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rreids · 19 days

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PRACTICE RUN • S. REID X READER

fluff, based on a scene at the end of 1 x 04 , going on a platonic date with spencer (for him to know what it's like) that becomes very real, kissing, silly little facts (again, very loosely verified, read everything i say ever with a grain of salt), ~1.3k

“Spence?” You ask, glancing at the clock on your nightstand. It’s 10:30, everyone had left the BAU around 8 after finishing up paperwork on the latest case. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, exactly,” Spencer mumbles. “You know how I went to that baseball game with JJ? Last week?”

”Yeah. You have fun?”

”Yeah. I mean, I guess.” He sighs. “I think Gideon meant for me to ask her out like a date,”

”Did you want it to be a date?” You sit up slowly, tugging your blanket over your knees and putting your phone on speaker so you can rest your cheek on your propped legs.

”No.” He pauses. “But I want to know how to ask someone out. In case I ever want to in the future.”

”Well,” you stretch and yawn a little. “Do you want me to explain it?”

”Would you?” You can perfectly imagine the way his face lights up from the way his voice pitches up alone.

”Of course, Spence,” you smile. “The best thing to do is make your intentions clear. Either have established that you like them, or make it clear when you ask. Try to ask them to do something, just the two of you, that is a shared interest between you two.”

He hums.

”For example, you like film viewings and stuff, right?” He mumbles a soft agreement. “So, it could be something like ‘Hey, I got tickets for this movie on — and then whatever day —, I was thinking the two of us could go. I’d like to see it with you.’”

”That easy?”

”That easy. Sometimes I like to say ‘it’s a date,’ when they agree, just to make sure they’re clear on my intentions. Never a bad idea to be explicit in your communication.”

”You go on a lot?” He asks curiously. “Of dates, I mean. You said that’s something you like to say,”

”Not recently, but in college,” you smile softly. “Not everyone was 16 when they were in higher education,”

Spencer chuckles. “You’re right. Are they any… fun?”

”You don’t know?”

”No one ever asked me out. Or maybe they did. I’m not good at that type of stuff. What do people even do on dates?”

”Talk,” you chuckle. “Enjoy one another’s company. Really, it’s just any old hangout with different emotions.”

Spencer sighs, voice petulant when he speaks again. “Emotions are confusing,”

”I have an idea,”

“What is it?”

”How about I take you on a practice run date? So you know what it’s like.”

”Isn’t that weird?”

”If you make it weird,” you tease. “It’s up to you. We’ll treat it like a date but go as friends, just so you can get used to that type of environment and its expectations,”

Spencer clicks his tongue, and you picture him pursing his lips in contemplation. “You promise I won’t feel weird?”

”I can’t control your emotions, Spence, but I promise to treat you like normal.”

He’s silent for a bit. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeat with a smile. “I’ll plan everything. Just tell me if you change your mind,”

.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊

When you and Spencer finally have time, it’s when you’re off work for a day after a rough week in Montana. He’s dressed pretty normally, but he took more time than normal to try to tame his hair, and he’s fidgeting with the cuffed sleeves of his undershirt as you walk up.

“Spencer,” you call and he looks up, smiling nervously. “You ready?”

“What exactly should I be ready for?”

“I decided we should go to an aquarium. That okay?”

“We have a shared interest in fish?” He asks, incredulous, recalling you saying a date had to be something both parties liked. “It’s fish.”

“The information,” you poke his side. “You like learning. It’s cool, I promise. And you can even point at the ugly fish and say they look like me.”

Spencer tilts his head. “Why would I do that? You’re not ugly.”

You smile, unsure of how to respond. “Come on.”

He listens, and it’s a little awkward, him silent and studying you. There’s so much tension that you’re unexpectedly and uncharacteristically a little quiet, looking at the way the cyan lights in the tanks flicker and reflect in his eyes, making them into inky pools of brown, black, and bluesin the low lighting.

You realize he looks pretty… cute.

“Spencer,” you whisper, snapping him from his laser focus on a sign about knobbed whelks. “You’re meant to talk to me.”

“Sorry,” he whispers back. “I just—”

“Think they’re cool?” You ask lightly.

“Yeah.”

“You want to go see the otters?” You question, grabbing his hand in yours. “They hold hands like this when they’re asleep, so they don’t drift apart and lose each other.”

He stares down at your hand, mouth dropped a little as you dragged him. “Is that why you’re holding mine? So I don’t get lost or separated from you.”

“Yeah.” You grin at him and he smiles back, letting you pull him along.

The otters are cute, and he’s fascinated by them. “I never knew they were so vicious…” he trails off as he reads the sign, looking at one with big round eyes that stares at him through the glass.

“Maybe we can profile our next unsub as an otter.”

Spencer snorts. “Yeah, whenever we get a killer who throws their victims on rocks repeatedly. That’d be a signature.”

You smile and look at his profile in the glowing light.

“What?” He asks, shying from the intensity of your gaze.

“People normally look at the person they’re on a date — fake… date — with.”

“Do they always look this intently at them?”

“Sometimes,” you fix his collar where it’s flopped over a little. “When they want to kiss them,”

You trail your fingers from his collar over his neck briefly before dropping your hand, and you feel his pulse racing.

“Do you kiss people on fake dates? Or practice dates?”

“Most people don’t go on those, Spence. But normally, you ask if you can kiss the person — through body language or verbally, and kiss them.”

Spencer falls quiet, following you towards the sharks slowly before catching your wrist in a dim part of the corridor, and you can barely make out the way his tongue darts over his lower lip.

“How does that body language look? So I can identify it,”

Your heart races, and you step closer to him, breathing in the scent of his cologne. Your eyes partially close just from the anticipation. You let your hands rest on his shoulders, meet his gaze before lowering it to his lips and dragging it back on, curling your fingers on his collar. “Like this.”

Spencer swallows, and moves his hands shakily to your waist.

He waits for you to look at him, and then copies you, eyes falling to your mouth before sliding back up your face.

You kiss him and he startles a little, stiffening under you before sighing and awkwardly trying to match you.

His eyes shut instinctively and remain like that even as you pull back, cheeks so red you can see it despite the lack of light.

“I don’t know… how… to kiss.” Spencer mumbles. “I’ve read a lot, but you’d be surprised how little there is other than facts that roughly 60% of couples tilt their heads to the right to kiss, and that many recipients of kisses will tilt to the right if the person kissing them is doing—”

You kiss him again.

“Later, Spencer. We’re on a date.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “A real one?”

“Unless you kiss everyone you hang out with, yeah,”

“No, no, I don’t.” He clears his throat. “But did you know it’s—”

“Safer than shaking hands when it comes to the amount of pathogens transferred. I know.” You hold his hand firmly in yours. “Now we’re doing both.”

not proofread, like always. i'm trying to improve my characterization still so please forgive that it's still clumsy. i am also a stickler for cute awkward spence so. expect that too

#my works #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #cm spoilers #requested

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pitchsidestories · 6 months

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You can be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare II Ali Krieger x Mewis!Reader

masterlist I word count: 2599

The heat of the day was gone, and it started to cool down in New Jersey. The breeze made you shiver, so did the words of Ali Krieger with whom you had a love affair for the past weeks: “Y/n, you’re 13 years younger than me and I just go through a separation from my wife.” “Ali.”, you tried to soothe her doubting face. Sadness lay in the eyes of the defender while she was looking at you: “I can’t do that.” “But you kissed me first and you said that it meant something to you.”, the hurt in your voice was undeniable.

Regret was shimmering through her words: “I shouldn’t have done that. You’re way too young for me.” “I’m not that young, Ali.”, you interjected. Eyerolling Ali countered: “You’re 26.” “Yes, which makes me an adult.”, you protested. Softly the older woman replied:” I know you’re.”

This didn’t change the fact that you were 13 years younger than her, this much you both knew. The defender made very clear that it was time to end the thing whatever you two had going on before anyone could get too hurt. So, you decided:” I should go.”

Meanwhile Ali’s daughter Sloane was standing right behind you and interrupted your talk, with big eyes she pleaded:” Don’t go, you promised me a good night story.” “No, she’s right. She should go.”, the dark-haired woman declared. The toddler looked disappointed at her mother: ”But-“ “It’s okay, Sloane. Maybe, we’ll do that another time in the future.” , you reassuringly hugged the little girl.

Audibly Ali cleared her throat: “Goodbye, I hope I’ll see you soon.” “We play in the same team, so I guess we can’t avoid seeing each other.”, you reminded her. Nervously the older woman went through her hair with one hand: “Yes, sure.” “Bye.”, you waved at them. “Goodbye.”

Were those tears shimmering in her beautiful brown eyes? But weren’t you the one who was allowed to grieve the possibility of what you two could have become when she ended it? Confused you left the home of the woman who broke your heart.

A worried Sloane looked up to her mother:” Why do you look so sad, momma?” “I’m not. I just have a hard decision to make. But it’s bad time for you now.”, Ali tried to shrug it off. “No.”, the toddler whined. “Yes, come on.”, the defender’s lips curled up into a tired smile as she knew all too well that her daughter would be soon asleep by the time her small head hit her pillow.

“Ali! Lynn! Doesn’t my little sister look super hot in this outfit?“, Kristie Mewis yelled a week later at Gothams next NWSL game. It has become kind of a ritual that the players took pictures of their outfits before the games for social media. You stood in front of the camera, rolling your eyes at your older sister; “Kristie, stop it.“ “Just admit that I picked it out for you!“, she protested with a laugh. You objected, frowning; “I picked it out. You just lend me the clothes!“ “I picked it out!“, Kristie insisted again. You could easily forget that she was the older one. “Whoever did it, I’m sure every queer woman would be happy to unpack her.“, Lynn interrupted your discussion with a wink.

Ali who stood next to her, waiting for her turn to be photographed, said flatly; “What’s there to unpack? She’s barely wearing anything.“ You could feel your cheeks heat with anger. Before you could answer, Kristie looked at the defender; “Don’t be mean, Ali. It’s a cute fit.“ She gave you a proud smile while Ali shrugged; “It’s true, Kristie.“ Your sister deliberately ignored her negative comments and walked up to you; “Come here. Let’s take some sister photos together to send to Sammy.“ “Sammy will pout forever about the fact that she wasn’t included in this picture.“, you reminded Kristie and immediately smiled at the thought of your other sister who currently played in Kansas. Kristie grinned into the camera; “Let’s be honest, she probably would have ruined it.“ “Still, you know her.“ “Yes, I do.“, she rolled her eyes.

You had taken a quick selfie with Kristie too and texted it to Sam. Now you held up your phone in Kristies face; “Told you. She’s already pouting in her text messages. We need to send her a good snack for when she’s doing her next podcast episode to make up for it.“ “Trust me, she’ll survive.“, Kristie replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. Lynn nodded in agreement; “Yeah, she’s already busy with other things. Sammy will forget about that photo by tomorrow.“ As her podcast partner, Lynn always knew what Sam was up to. “Yeah, you two are probably right.“, you shrugged but sent your sister in Kansas a heart emoji anyway. “We are. Believe us.“, Kristie winked.

After the match Ali was standing next to your locker, arms crossed in front of her chest: “Where do you think you’re going with this outfit?” “I’m going out.”, you shrugged with your shoulders. Although her reaction fuelled your anger. She did not have a right to react jealous. Curiously she asked: “Out? With whom?” “Oh, just with Kristie and some other teammates.”, you replied nonchalantly.

Bitterly the defender answered:” Go and have fun then.” Innocently smiling Kristie intervened: “Isn’t Ashlyn looking after your kids tonight? Come on, Ali. You should join us.” “I don’t think Ali is interested in partying with us.”, you told her. Much to both of your surprise the captain of the team replied:” You know what? Why not? I got nothing else to do.” “Great, this is going to be so much fun.”, your older sister chirmed. A small smile lightened up Alis whole face: “I’m sure it will be.” “We’ll see about that.”, you whispered frustrated.

The club Kristie chose was new and trendy and settled in Manhattan. The music was good, and you and your teammates enjoyed the night out. A stranger came up to you: “Hi, can I get you a drink?” She looked pretty and you could not help but to nod along: “Sure.” “No.”, Ali interrupted the talk between the two of you. “No? I think I can decide that on my own.”, you huffed. Determined the defender shook her head: “No, you can’t.” With these words she took your hand and walked off with you.

Furiously you glanced at her: “Seriously, what the fuck Ali?” “What? It’s impolite. You’re out with us.”, she pointed out. Annoyed with her actions you scoffed: We both know that’s not why you did it.” “Maybe not. But that doesn’t matter. The others don’t have to know.”, Ali admitted. “Don’t worry, Kristie doesn’t know with whom I spent my summer.”, you disclosed. The mentioning of your older sister made the dark-haired woman smile in amusement:” “Kristie doesn’t seem to be bothered anyway. She’s on the phone with her girlfriend.” “And where are Kelley and Lynn?”, you couldn’t help but to ask. While Ali took you on to the dance floor without asking you: “At the bar.” “Oh.”

“Come on. You should have some fun.”, she smirked. As you were starting to move to the music you wanted to know from her:” Are you enjoying your parenting free night?” “I do.”, with that said you could feel her hands placed around your hips. You tried to keep your tone light: “That’s great.” “But I do miss them.”, the older woman answered. A sigh escaped your lips:“I miss them too to be honest.” “They miss you too.” Surprised you looked at her:”Really?” “Sure. You’ve met them quite a few times.”, Ali replied while her fingers touched your naked skin which made you shiver. Secretly you hated that your body still reacted to her like this.

Apparently, she had also noticed your reaction because she quickly pulled her hand away. “Yes, that’s true.“, you replied, trying to ignore what had just happened. Ali furrowed her eyebrows, looking at you intently; “Are you okay?“ “Yes, I’m fine… I think I’ll go home now.“, you explained, turning away from her. “Already?“ “Yes. Good night, Ali.“

You took your bag and were about to leave when you suddenly felt her hand close around your wrist. “Let me bring you home. Your sister obviously isn’t going to.“, Ali decided rather than offered. You followed her gaze to Kristie, who stood off to the side with her phone pressed to her ear and giggled about something her girlfriend must have said. “We should not interrupt her when she’s talking to her girlfriend.“, you had to admit. Ali finally let go of your hand; “I’m sure the others will make sure that she gets home safe. But now let me take you home.“

Your brain was constantly screaming at you while you accepted the offer and followed Ali to her car. The car ride was unusually silent but you were half expecting the awkwardness already. When the car stopped in front of your apartment building, you realized that Ali had gotten out of the car to open the passenger door for you. You gave her a tight smile; “Thanks for bringing me home.“ “You’re welcome.“, she answered politely. While pulling the keys out of your bag, you noticed that Ali hasn’t moved.

With a sigh, you turned to her, finally asking you the question that was bothering you the whole night; “Ali… did you already find someone new?“ The defender seemed taken aback by the question; “No. I’m not looking for someone right now.“ “I see.“ “It’s all a bit much right now. I thought I’d focus on myself and my children. What about you? Are you seeing anyone?“, Ali continued. You shook your head, your lips pressed together tightly; “No. I think I’ll focus on my career right now.“ “That sounds… reasonable.“ “I know.“ You were just about to turn the keys and unlock the door when Ali spoke up again; “You know I’m sorry, right? I didn’t think when we started this. Or else I wouldn’t have put us both through this mess.“ “So you regret us?“, you asked, your voice a pitch higher than you wanted it to be. “That’s not what I said.“, Ali retorted defensively.

You heaved a long sigh; “I guess it’ll be easier when the season ends.“ “Yes. I think it will be. That gives us more space.“, the defender agreed. “Right and we’ll never have to see each other again.“ Ali rolled her eyes at your remark; “You know, you can be a bit dramatic sometimes?“ “To be fair, I learned from the best. Kristie and you.“, you laughed involuntarily. “I’m not dramatic! Your sister is!“, Ali protested with a wide grin. “Yeah, she’s a little bit more drama.“

For a second, everything felt like the break-up never happened but then Alis’ face turned serious again; “See. I’m sure you’ll be alright. You’re an amazing soccer player, smart and pretty, and you have your two sister who always got your back. You don’t need me.“

“Ali, you know that’s not true. I do need you.”, you disagreed. Her expression was unchanged as she answered: “No, you don’t.” “I still don’t care about the age gap. I thought you should know that. Good night, Ali.”, you smiled disappointed. “I do know that. Good night.”

Yet she still did not move so you asked the defender:” Ali, why are you still standing here?” “What? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking.”, Ali blushed. “Thinking about what?” “Mistakes.”, the older woman truthfully replied. Sharply you shot back: “Well, I think you made very clear that we were a mistake.” “No. But apparently think that if you keep accusing me of saying that.”, she shook her head. You could feel your cheek turn red:” Sorry.” “ I don’t think this was a mistake. What was a mistake was the fact that I didn’t think about it before starting something with you. That would have saved us the trouble.”, Ali summed it up. Slowly you nodded:”Right.”

“But now I’m wondering if it’s a mistake to let you go.”, the defender cautiously looked into your eyes. The words left your mouth before you could think more deeply about them: “Don’t let go.” This said she closed the gap between you and pressed her lips onto yours while you replied to her kiss with an equally passion, running your hands through her dark long hair. All the emotions finally making their way out as you embraced each other. Needless to say, Ali did not leave that night.

After your now girlfriends last game where was a big party being held in her honour. All her friends were there to celebrate her long soccer career. Proudly you kissed her which made Kristie gasp out loud: “Oh. My. God!”

“Why are you yelling, Kristie?”, your other sister Sam Mewis asked amused because she was well versed in the older sibling’s talent to make everything super dramatic as if you were part of a reality show. “Our little sister is making out with Ali!”, the blonde shouted into her ear. Unimpressed the taller woman looked at her:” And?” “And seriously?!”, Kristie repeated playfully shocked.

That made Sam laugh out loud: “Yes?” “Why aren’t you freaking out about this?”, the smaller midfielder wanted to know. “Should I?” “Well, they look happy, right?”, the older sister observed as she glanced at Ali and you. Giggling the middle sibling remarked: “I don’t know. They’re about to eat each other up.”

Kristie grimaced in disgust; “Ew, gross.“ “As if you and were any better with your girlfriend.“, Megan Rapinoe interrupted the sisters, giving Kristie a smirk. Sam gasped with widened eyes, happy about the mutual understanding between her and Megan; “Don’t even get me started! You can’t even have a normal conversation without them making out!“

“Let’s try it with this new couple, shall we?“, Megans wife asked, a challenging look on their face. But before she could her plan to action, Ali took her lips off of yours for a second and yelled; “We’re busy here!“ “Get a room!“, Kristie answered. You eyed your sister with scepticism; “Coming from you?“ “Don’t talk to me in this tone, young lady.“, Kristie warned, playfully raising her finger at you. You cringed; “You’re my older sister, not my mum.“

Ali got up, taking your hand in hers; “Let’s leave, love.“ “Please.“, you answered, looking at your sisters with feigned disdain. “Bye, guys.“, Ali waved while gently leading you outside. Kristie watched you with her mouth open; “You can’t just abduct my sister.“ “This is consensual.“, you clarified with a laugh. “This better be!“, Kristie yelled after you. You smiled at her and Sam, waving them goodbye; “See you tomorrow.“ “Or not.“, Kristie added. Sam snorted; “Probably not.“ “Girls!“, you called. But Ali nudged you with her shoulder, giving you a wink; “They are not wrong though.“ “Go.“, Sam rolled her eyes, gesturing for you to finally leave. Sue smiled as she watched you two; “Seems like we don’t have to worry about Ali being bored after her retirement from soccer.“ “I was never worried about that.“, Megan replied, amused.

Kristie in the meantime had taken a step away from the group and was holding her phone to her ear. “Kristie, what are you doing?“, Sam asked. “Uhm, telling mum the news?“, her sister answered, looking at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sam shook her head at her; “Oh my god, Kristie. That’s exactly why I’m mums favorite.“

#ali krieger #ali krieger x reader #woso x reader #uswnt x reader #kristie mewis #gotham fc #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #megan rapinoe #uswnt #kristie mewis x reader #uswnt imagine #nwsl #sam mewis #woso oneshot #kelley o'hara

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lovelettersforthedamned · 7 months

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Let Me Be There, Let Me Be Yours

--genre + trope: fluff, hurt/comfort, slight nsfw, 18+ ONLY MDNI

--pairing: frat!peter parker x f!reader

--word count: 1.7k

--summary: while attending peter's frat party, he realizes he wants to be more than friends with benefits with you after seeing his frat brother harry osborn flirt with you. this leads to an emotional conversation about the future with peter.

--warnings: drinking, mentions of alcohol/alcoholic games, suggestive nsfw, kinda forced drinking, protective!peter, drunk!reader, confession, peter takes care of reader while she's drunk, peter's down bad.

--gif credits: @talkaboutyourday

You can hear the bass bumping through the walls of the fraternity as you make your way up the steps of the porch. The first Delta Chi party of the school year brought in a lot of people this time. You hesitate before opening the door. Why you’re so nervous puzzles you, yet those thoughts are quickly interrupted by the smell of cheap beer and smoke flooding your senses. You look around trying to find any familiar faces.

“(L/N)!” Harry’s voice recognizable over the loud music echoing through the familiar frat. You turn around to find the familiar brunet with a red solo cup in his hand.

“Harry Osborn,” You taunt back, “Where’s Parker?”

“I don’t keep tabs on Parker? Who do you think I am, his best friend?” He waves his hand around in the air in a dramatic way.

“Actually yeah,” You laugh, reaching out for his cup to take a sip, “What’s this?” You take a sip before he can answer you. The familiar burn of the vodka runs down your throat. “Jesus,” You mutter to yourself.

“Let’s get you an actual drink, then we’ll go find your little boyfriend, Parker,” Harry throws an arm loosely around your shoulder leading you through the house.

“Since when was he my boyfriend?” You ask, looking up at Harry. He looks down at you with his typical shit-eating smirk and a quirk to his brow.

“My mistake then, just thought after you guys fucked the last few times he would’ve made it official or something,” he joked.

“Well-” You laughed, “We’re just fucking.”

You don’t remember getting to this point of being trashed, but you’re definitely there. One shot turned into two, then Harry offered to take another with you, and another. None of it matters as you finally see Peter grabbing a beer from the fridge. It takes a few ‘Excuse Me's' to eventually reach him, plotting a funny way to sneak up on him in the process, before you poke him on the side of his waist.

“Jesus fuck,” He turns quickly to look at the culprit, you. You honestly wonder how he didn’t get whiplash from turning that fast, “Are you serious?”

“Yes, are you serious?” You ask with a laugh. Your cheeks are warm, as you grin up at him. You think you’re the funniest person in the world right now, and Peter is looking at you with confusion, and a bit of amusement written across his face. He’s speechless at your state right now.

You feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, “Looks like you found him,” Harry teased.

“Yeah, you sure were a lot of help Osborn.”

Peter’s eyes dance between you and his best friend's arm that’s thrown casually across your shoulder. He doesn’t know what’s going on between you two, but he has a weird feeling in his stomach about it. It’s teetering on the line between anger and jealousy, but he doesn’t know why.

Harry sticks his tongue out playfully at you, all you can do is roll your eyes in response. Even though you knew you were pretty plastered right now, you also knew that Harry was not the one you wanted attention from. Being around Peter was easy, and most importantly, simple. What you have with him is strictly a situationship, friends with benefits, maybe. You’re still open to do as you please just as much as he is.

“How many drinks have you guys had,” Peter asks bluntly.

“A few,” The brunet answers for you both. You crane your neck up with a puzzled look, he meets your gaze, “What?”

“A few drinks? Harry, how many shots in are we,” You start counting with your fingers jokingly, you hold up at least 6 fingers, “This is just a few?”

This makes Peter look between the two of you again, “Hey, maybe we should go get water (Y/N)?” Still looking at Harry’s arm slinged around your frame.

“Nah, she’s fine,” Harry once again said for you, “Right, (Y/N)?”

You respond with a firm, yet dizzy nod, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Harry guides you away from Peter, the beer now warm in his hand as he’s been clenching it in his fist the entire time Harry interrupted your brief conversation. He watches as his frat brother leads you to a beer pong table, asking around if anyone wants to play with the two of you. As the game starts, Peter’s already in the background of the crowd watching how you sway as you aim for a cup. As the game goes on, you and Harry gain a lead and ultimately win the game, leaving you to play another round with two new people. Peter has gotten closer to you as viewers disperse to find another form of entertainment.

The second round started, and Peter can tell that you’re not doing well. There’s a more prominent bend in your knees, almost like you’re about to fold at any minute if you’re not too careful. The other team’s ball flew into a cup right in front of you, Harry insisting on you taking one for the team and chugging it. Maybe it’s because Peter has been watching you all night, but he notices a slight gag as you’re about half way through the drink.

This is what sets Peter off to approach you, “Maybe it’s time for you to actually get some water, yeah?” Reaching for your elbow to guide you away from the crowd, dragging you into the less populated kitchen.

“Parker, how many times…how many times do I have to tell you that I am fine,” you sluggishly reply, trying to pull away but ultimately failing.

“Peter, at this point you’re just killing the vibe,” Harry’s voice chimes in as he makes his way into the room, “Just go find someone else to bother, you’re interrupting us.” A smirk is on his face at that last bit, knowing he’s struck a nerve in Peter.

“Honestly Osborn, shut the fuck up,” Peter snaps. This pulls you out of your drunken haze, your eyes now locking onto the guys in front of you.

Harry just laughs, “Whoa, calm down Pete,” he raises his hands in defense.

“No Harry seriously, just get the fuck out of here,” Peter turns his back to his best friend and grabs your wrist, “Let’s go.”

“You’re not my boyfriend Parker,” You snap, ripping your arm from his grasp.

“Well you’re not letting me be your fucking boyfriend,” He quips.

“We’re just fucking, you made that clear since the beginning.”

Peter runs a hand through his hair, “I made that clear? You’re the one that-fuck,” He rubs a hand across his jaw in frustration, “Let’s go.” He grabs your wrist once again dragging you from the kitchen, he doesn’t falter when his shoulder rams into Harrys. He pulls you across the house and up the stairs to his room, despite your complaints.

“What the fuck-”

“I’m the one that made it clear?” He questions, now clearly frustrated, “You’re the one eye-fucking every guy in the room, (L/N).”

“Because I fucking can, like I said you’re not my fucking boyfriend! You don’t have that jurisdiction Peter!” You raise your voice.

“Because you won’t let me,” He spits out calmly. The tension in the room doubles, his new tone making the room feel small.

“Because I don’t fucking know how!” Your chest heaving with rage. Your eyes melting into his hazel set, “I don’t know how,” you repeat quieter. At this point your drunken haze has completely left you with a sick hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach. Peter just stares at you, unable to form words. The seconds tick by painfully slow, you become nervous as they pass. “Can you just say something Parker-actually fuck this,” you cut yourself off, turning to grab the door handel.

“I-I’m sorry,” He stutters, “I just don’t know what to say.”

“Figures,” You laugh sarcastically.

“Look (Y/N), we could make this work if you just let me in,” Peter says.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m scared, Pete,” You glance at the floor with a sigh “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it.”

You laugh,“I just can’t.”

He walks over to you, “Please,” he whispers, “I want to be with you.”

You turn to finally look at him, tears clinging to your lashes, you give him a sad smile as your eyes melt into his.

“Please,” He asks again, “Just let me try, just give us a try.”

“I don’t want to hurt you Pete, I can’t do that to you.”

“It’s fine,” A grin etching its way onto his face, “I’ll wait as long as you need me to.” He brings his hand up, cradling your cheek in his palm, wiping away the stray tear, “Just let me be there, let me be yours.”

You bring your hand to lay on top of his to keep the contact for just a bit longer, “Yeah,” you sniffle before you nod with a grin, “Fine, but if it becomes too much, you have to let it go.”

“You’ll never be too much for me.”

“Should we head downstairs?” You suggest, wiping the rest of ur tears.

Peter opens the door letting you walk out first, “Yeah, I think I need to talk to Harry real quick before I walk you home.”

As if right on cue Harry appears at the bottom of the stairs, “Yo, Parker! What I did was out of line, my bad dude. It won’t happen again.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” He says out loud before pulling him in for a quick side hug, “Don’t mess with her again like that, alright? Everyone else is fair game, not her though.”

A quick nod is shared between the brothers before you head out, walking back to your apartment, since it’s only a few minutes away. You and Peter aren’t simple, and you aren’t a situationship. You are navigating your way through each other’s lives, together.

--author's note: HEY!!! you guys love peter so much, and i love him so much that i had to go write about him again. really in my frat!peter era, so here's my take on this beautiful AU. shoutout to @webslingingslasher for being an absolute god in all things frat!peter, im obsessed. don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support your writers!! ok ily, bye<3.

#frat!peter #tasm!peter parker #andrew garfield peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker fluff #peter parker hurt/comfort #marvel #andrew garfield #college au #frat!harry #protective!peter parker

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writingwithfolklore · 8 months

Text

Surviving Death

I am a sucker for revival after character death—as long as it’s done well. Maybe in the future we’ll do a separate post on killing characters, but what I’ll say about it now is that revival can be a fantastic plot twist or narrative turn as long as both it and the death has proper meaning.

While you may want to revive a character for a happy ending--they wake up and not only is the world saved but everyone made it out alive! This can also sometimes feel a bit cheap. What was the point of suffering the death if they were just to get to come back easy-peasy? Consider, would End Game have been as revered if Tony got to survive his sacrifice?

So here’s some ways to bring a character back to life without losing the meaning of their death:

They are forever changed from the experience

A classic “came back wrong”, one of my favourite things in fiction. You get to choose to the extent they are wrong. Maybe the ‘wrong’ isn’t some supernatural influence, but rather just a result of the experience of dying.

They saw something about the afterlife, they’ve lost memories, they’ve gained new memories about a past or a future or alternate timeline, they realize how much they mean to certain people, they discover just how little they meant to others, etc. etc.

Their death (and subsequent revival) should quite literally change the course of their life. That’s not something one could go through lightly. Whether it gives them trauma, new perspectives, or a complete shift in personality/morals, they definitely didn’t come back how they left.

2. Sacrifice for a Sacrifice

Also a pretty common trope—you don’t get to gain something unless you lose something. To bring them back, someone else has to take their place, or something important is lost. Maybe to trade for their companion back, the main character loses the greatest asset to their quest. Maybe they have to choose between two people, and the two who live have to live with that fact.

I read a book once where the main character had to choose between his love interest and his brother in a Saw-like trap. He chooses his brother, and the villain kills him anyway. Now he must continue his quest with his love interest, who knows he didn’t choose her. It was tragic, and completely changed their dynamic.

3. They’re only half back

They come back, but only some of the way. Maybe they are cursed to die again in a year. They’re tied to one place and will disappear if they leave it. They’re a ghost, or otherwise not fully present. They exist only in relation to certain objects or people. Their communication is lost, or certain other abilities they used to have.

They came back, but only some of them—the rest is lost to the beyond.

Most importantly to reviving characters is the permanent consequences. Death is no easy thing to overcome, and whatever the circumstances are--it should remain with them forever.

What are some other ways to revive characters?

#writing #creative writing #writers #screenwriting #writing community #writing inspiration #books #film #filmmaking #writing advice #revival #character death #character revival #surviving death #came back wrong

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inmyicyworld · 10 months

Text

Jersey

College! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected.

Words count: 3.2k

Warnings: established relationships, SMUT, unprotected sex (but they’re both safe and clean), dirty talk, sex in the locker room, a lot of pet names, Bucky is needy and caring, he’s deeply in love.

Author’s note: hey everyone! thank you for your feedback on my last posts, it means a lot to me. so this is my first smut, and I hope you’ll enjoy it. (I became creative with that photo of the red jersey because I couldn’t find a perfect picture, so I edited it for like half an hour😭)

I have many ideas for my future works, but you have something interesting in mind, feel free to write me about it. Maybe I get some inspiration and create something🩷🦋

*English is not my first language. Sorry if you find any mistakes*

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

It’s been another game for the "Avengers", where your boyfriend Bucky Barnes was a quarterback. Today was one of the most important games against "Hydra" – their biggest enemy. Obviously, you couldn't miss the game, and Natasha, your best friend and roommate, will be with you as always. And right now, she has convinced you to do something that has been on your mind for a long time.

"C’mon, It’ll be fun. He’ll like it, I promise!" She said as you two stood near the place that made custom t-shirts with any prints. And at this moment, Natasha wanted you to order a jersey with Bucky’s number and his name on it.

"I don’t know, Nat. I mean, I want to do it, but what if he thinks that it’s too much?" You nervously played with the hem of your skirt.

"Now stop it." She stood before you and put her hand on her hips like a mother who was scolding her child. "You’ve been dating for more than a year, and his guy loves you so fucking much that he can’t even tear his eyes from you every time you two are in the same room. So when I tell you that he’ll love it, I mean it." You silently looked at her for a few minutes, but when she questionably raised her eyebrow, you finally gave up.

"Fine, you won. I hate you."

"I love you too, baby." Nat chuckled and dragged you to the store.

It seemed like there were thousands of people because everyone wanted to see one of the most important games of the season. People were already taking their seats, but you and Nat went straight to the locker room to wish the guys good luck. Trainer Fury was very strict about this, and it was forbidden for people not from the team to go there, but for some reason Nat always found a way to solve this problem.

"Guys!" Natasha loudly knocked at the door. "Are all of you already dressed up? I’m not in the mood to see somebody’s ass today!"

"Come in!" You heard Thor’s loud voice.

"Oh, I see our support group is here." As soon as you two walked in, Sam ended up between you and Nat and threw his hands over your shoulders, leading you deeper into the room. "Barnes will be here soon; don’t worry."

"Okay. Are you guys ready to beat their asses?" You smiled and looked at the almost entire team that had come to see you and Nat.

"Don’t worry, Sweets, we’ll win, as always." Tony answered you while he was cleaning his helmet. "But you should tell your boyfriend to stay away from Rumlow, or else he’ll be suspended again. By the way, is that jersey with his name?" You quietly nodded as the whole team made an impressive ‘woo’ together.

"You two are disgustingly sweet, you know that?" Sam rolled his eyes, and at the same time, the door slammed. "It’s him; go give him some kisses for luck."

"Shut up, Samuel." You laughed and left their little circle to find Bucky looking at his phone. "Don’t you want to say hi, James?" He moved his eyes to you, and his face immediately lit up with happiness.

"I just wanted to text you." He threw his phone on the bench and came closer to wrap his arms around you. "Hi, doll. I missed you so much today." He mumbled into your neck.

"I missed you too, Buck." You smiled when your heart filled with all the love you had for that man. "But wait, I have to show you something." You slipped out of his hands, excited and nervous at the same time. "Look what I’ve got!" You happily turned around to show Bucky your back and flipped your hair to the side so he could see everything better. "Do you like it?"

You had a big red jersey on you, to which Bucky didn't even pay attention at first. But when you turned around, his mouth went dry and his whole body became fuzzy. You had his number 17 and the word "Barnes" on your back. You were wearing his name.

For a few seconds, he was silent. He didn't answer your answer either, so with confusion written on your face, you faced him again, only to see a weird look on his face.

"What? You don't like it? Should I take this off? I'm sorry…" You started to apologize, only to be interrupted by his low voice.

"Don't you dare take this off, Y/N." He suddenly came closer to you again, and the next thing you knew, your back was slapped against the metal lockers when Bucky’s lips attacked you. He kissed you passionately and deeply, pressing his body against yours as if he was desperate to touch you and feel you closer. You couldn’t hold back the quiet moan that escaped your mouth when he tilted your head with his hand, helping his tongue slip into your mouth.

You thought that you heard the screams of the boys on the other side of the room, but they were really muffled when your head was filled with the thought of your boyfriend’s soft lips and warm skin. Bucky finally broke the kiss, leaving you two catching your breath while he put his forehead on yours and closed his eyes.

"You don’t understand what you’re doing to me. You look so fucking hot in this jersey, I want to fuck you right now." He whispered so only you could hear. "You made me hard, doll." To prove his words, he pushed his hips a little bit closer to you so you could feel the hardness.

"‘M sorry; I didn’t know that you would react like that."

"Hey, Buck, we should already go." Bucky’s grip on your waist became only tighter, when he heard Steve’s voice, and he nuzzled into your neck.

"Give me a minute."

"The game is gonna start soon."

"I said, give me a minute, Steve!" He said it louder. Bucky deeply inhaled, and it was obvious that he just needed some time to calm down.

"Shh, it’s okay, James." You put your hands through his hair because you knew that it would instantly relax him. "You're gonna win this game, right? And without fights."

"I’ll do everything for you. I just love you so much, doll." He whispered into your neck when his body finally relaxed and he was able to move away from you.

"I love you too, James." He quickly kissed you again before turning around to face the team, who had knowing smirks on their faces.

"You two should get a room." Sam had an annoyed look on his face.

"Don’t worry, Birdbrain, we will. Are you ready for the game, or are you gonna stand here and complain all day?" Bucky winked at you and went out of the room without waiting for the answer from Sam.

"So…" Natasha suddenly appeared near you. "Did you make The White Wolf hard by just wearing a shirt with his name on it?" She grinned, as it was her original plan that worked.

"Oh, shut up!"

The game was tough. Hydra played dirty as always, and Bucky almost got into a fight with Rumlow during the intense moment. You almost jumped out of the seat during the last few minutes of the game, and when "Avengers" finally won, you and Natsha screamed at the top of your lungs.

As soon as the team was done cheering and hugging, Bucky looked at the seat where you were supposed to be but saw only Nat, who pointed at you already standing near the rim. He ran to you with the biggest smile on his face, and when he finally reached you, he crushed his lips into yours.

You didn’t care that many people looked at you, even though you knew that some particular groups of girls would gossip about it for the next week because… well, everyone wanted your boyfriend. You just wrapped your hands around his sweaty neck and pulled him closer to you as far as you could with a fence between you two.

"I’m so proud of you, baby." You whispered into his lips. "You were amazing as always."

"Thank you, doll. I'm happy that you’re here with me." He looked into your eyes as his right thumb rubbed your cheek.

"You know I couldn’t miss your game, especially if it’s that important."

"Mhm, can you… come to the locker room in like twenty minutes?" Bucky nervously licked his lips.

"To the locker room? I thought we were going to celebrate it with the team as always."

"Maybe later, but I’m thinking of something, so come, ‘kay?" He started to go back to the field, but not before giving you another sweet kiss on the lips.

You sat in the cafeteria for about twenty minutes, passionately waiting for the appropriate time to go to the locker room because you really didn’t want to see another naked man that wasn’t your boyfriend. One such experience was enough for you. You asked Nat to come with you, but when you repeated Bucky’s words to her, she just gave you a mysterious smirk and patted you on the shoulder, saying that you better go there alone.

When you finally got there and knocked on the door, you heard only Bucky’s voice, who told you to come in.

"James? What’s going on?" You asked as you came further into the room. It was empty except for Bucky, who came out of nowhere and locked the door. "What are you doing?"

He didn’t answer you; he just crossed the room, kissed you, and pushed your back into the metal lockers, just as he did it a few hours ago. He was greedy, passionate, and a little bit too rough, so you couldn’t keep the moan from escaping your mouth. Bucky’s hands squeezed your hips and then went higher under your jersey.

"Bucky…" You pulled away from the kiss, but he took advantage of it and started kissing your neck. Your eyes rolled back as you squeezed his shoulders and completely forgot everything you wanted to say. He sucked your soft skin into his mouth and even bit you. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to leave dark marks on your neck, but, honestly, you didn’t care. He smelled too good fresh out of the shower, with his bare chest and low-rise gray sweatpants, and his mouth… God, you knew what his mouth could do. "Baby, we can’t do it here."

"We can, and we will." He left your neck and looked at you, leaving only a few inches between your faces. "You can’t imagine how hard it was for me not to bend you over the closest surface when you showed me that fucking shirt. With my name on it? So everyone could see that you’re mine?" Bucky licked his already swollen lips. You pressed your thighs together, feeling how wet you were. He definitely felt that motion because his eyes became darker, and he looked like he was going to devour you at that same place.

"James…" You quietly whimpered, not being able to hold yourself anymore.

"Baby, fuck– doll, I love it when you call me that. You drive me insane." He decided not to lose any more time, so his hands went straight to the button of your jeans. He helped you get out of them, not losing a chance to touch your bare legs. "Now turn around, baby." You heard a deep moan, probably when he saw the back of the shirt again.

"Bucky, please." You whispered when you felt that more juices came out of you. You loved when your boyfriend became needy and possessive.

"Look at you, doll. You're already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet." He said that when he put his hand over your pussy, he probably felt the heat and pulse. "I would’ve eaten you out, but I need you too fucking much, so I promise to do it when we get to my place."

"O-okay, just do something, please." You pushed your ass back and heard a loud, deep moan as soon as you touched Bucky’s hard cock through his pants. You put your hands behind your back to try to push down his clothes, and at the same time, Bucky removed your black thongs.

You felt his hard cock on the bare skin of your ass, the tip already leaking with pre-cum. Bucky squeezed your ass with his hands and moved his hips. His perfectly shaped cock grinded against your wet folds, and you couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping your throat.

"Please, don’t tease me–" You didn’t even finish the sentence when Bucky moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. The mixture of pain and pleasure washed over you, and you didn’t even realize that you moaned too loudly. He was too perfect, filling you completely and stretching you around him in the most delicious way.

"Sh-h, sweetheart, you don’t want other people to hear you, right?" One of Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt and laid on your stomach, and the other one covered your mouth, pulling you closer to his chest. "Good girl." He mumbled into your ear when you shook your head.

Bucky pulled away from you, still staying deep inside of your heat, letting you adjust to his size. He put one hand from your mouth on your back, which made you lean forward toward the lockers. The cold metal cooled your hot skin, but it still felt like you were burning inside.

Bucky finally started moving his hips, and the filling of his dick coming in and out of you made you almost faint. You two had sex a million times, but it still amazed you how full and satisfied he made you feel.

"That’s right, doll. You’re so greedy for my dick, huh?" He started to go faster, and you tried to move your body to his rhythm. "Was this your plan? Showing me that fucking jersey, so I could fuck you like a little slut you actually are?" His hand went over your back, tracing letters on your shirt with his fingers, and his motions became harder. In fact, it wasn’t your idea, but you should definitely thank Natasha because you really didn’t expect your boyfriend to become even more obsessed with you.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and you clenched around Bucky’s cock, making him moan. "I feel how you’re clenching ‘round me. I know that you like it when I call you my slut. Only mine."

"Yes, Bucky– James, please." A sudden slap on your right cheek pulled another moan out of you, and Bucky just chuckled, knowing that you’re always loud with him.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum, please– James! I’m so close." You felt too overwhelmed with pleasure, not even realizing that you started crying when his fingers moved to your clit, drawing little circles there.

"Fuck, one day I’m gonna make you Mrs. Barnes, so you will have a well-damn reason to wear this shirt." He deeply chuckled, moving harder and harder into you. More nasty sounds of skin slapping into skin and your not-so-quiet moan filled the room. "Can you imagine that, baby? Being my cute little wife, who likes when I fuck the shit out of her? Poor doll, crying. Can’t even handle my cock deep inside your pussy, can’t you?" He moved even deeper into you, and that was it.

"God– James!" You slammed your hands on the metal near your face, trying to find something to hold onto, as the wave of heat and extreme pleasure covered your whole body and mind. Your legs trembled, and the only thing that kept you straight was Bucky’s strong hands. He felt that you were over the edge, that you couldn’t stand on your legs, and he definitely felt more juices coming out of you. He looked down and saw how his shiny cock was coming in and out of your pussy that was particularly choking him, and that sight threw him over the edge. With the last movement, he pulled your body into him, wrapping his hands around you and releasing his hot seed deep inside of you.

You both moaned at the feeling of you being so full of his cum that it had already started dripping down your thighs.

"That’s it, baby." Bucky whispered into your ear. "You did so well. Are you okay?" He left light kisses on your cheek.

It was too intense; not a single thought came to your head, and for a few seconds you tried to put yourself together.

"Mhm." It was the only thing that you were able to answer because your body was still trembling with the leftovers of your intense orgasm.

You two stayed in that position for a few minutes until Bucky realized that you had become too sleepy. He tried to pull out, but you grabbed his hand.

"‘M too sensitive." You almost cried.

"I know, sweetheart, but now I have to clean you and take you home." Bucky gently came out of you, and your body got goosebumps at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you. It took him all the strength not to shove it back into you with his fingers, but you were obviously too tired, and he couldn’t properly take care of you since you weren’t at his or your bedroom.

Bucky fell on his knees, quickly took a towel from his bag on the floor, and carefully cleaned the mess between your thighs. He reached for your panties, helped you put them back, leaving a soft kiss on your leg, and then helped you sit on the bench.

He looked at your sleepy and tired face while putting on his clothes.

"Hey, doll? You’re too quiet. Is everything okay? Was I too rough?"

"I’m ‘kay, it was just as intense as when you make me come many times in one night. Just help me with my jeans; I can’t feel my legs."

"Of course, sweetheart." He helped you with your pants and then fixed your messy hair. You couldn’t imagine how you must’ve looked right now. "I love you so much. Thank you for being here today. You’re truly the best thing that ever happened to me." Bucky kissed your forehead and wrapped his hands around your body, standing up with you.

"I love you too, Buck. So so much." You happily buried your face into his neck, knowing that your boyfriend was going to take care of everything.

He picked up his bag and keys for the locker room and came out of there. Bucky didn’t even close the door when he heard a familiar voice.

"Do not tell me that you two did what I think you did!" Sam was standing there a few steps away with disgust and shock on his face. "I didn’t expect that from you, Y/N/N." He joked.

"Sorry, Sam." You moved away from Bucky’s neck and tried to give Sam your best apologetic smile.

"Well, I’m not. Since you’re here, close the door, Birdbrain; we hurry."

Sam stood there for a few more moments after Bucky left with you in his arms.

He decided that the headphones that he left in the room could wait until another time.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #college bucky barnes #football player bucky barnes #marvel smut #bucky barnes smut #marvel fanfiction

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

Old Scars, New Blood 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, borderline bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has accepted that she’ll never be wanted, not only by the man she’s crushed on for years, but by anyone. That is until a new player enters the game. (f!, short!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen, Thor Odinson

Note: Still sick but going to have to work.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

With meal prep complete, you return to Lloyd’s office to find it empty. The remnants of his earlier spill remain speckled over the desk and floor. You clean it up, leaving a lemony fresh scent in your stead. While you’re at it, you tidy up the bookshelves.

You hesitate on your way to the door. You glance over your shoulder as something tickles in your head. You still don’t get why Lloyd didn’t tell you about Valhalla. For months, he hid that from you. You think about that day in the car and being left on the side of the road. Maybe he’s been planning to cut ties with you for a while.

You stare at the large iMac. It would be wrong to snoop. Even if it isn’t his redeeming quality, you’ve always been honest with Lloyd. You’re just confused. He’s never anything less than straightforward so if he’s going to fire you, why hasn’t he just pulled the trigger?

Maybe… you know too much. That sends a shiver through you. It may actually end with shots fired.

“There she is,” Lloyd interrupts your inner turmoil and you whip around to face him. He’s freshly showered and styled. You can smell the specialty oil he puts in his mustache, “the fuck are you doing in here?”

“Cleaning,” you reply quickly.

“Looks pretty fucking spotless,” he tosses keys at you and you flinch, catching them against your chest, “I need a ride.”

“Um, I can get Jackie–”

“He drives like an old man,” he retorts, spinning on his heel as he snaps his fingers, “chop, chop, kid.”

You swallow your agitation. Usually, you’re better at it. Today you just find him grating. Maybe you’re just a bit sore about him leaving you on the highway. Well, get over it, he’s not apologising.

You follow him with the keys in your hand. He’s several paces ahead of you as you scurry to keep up. His stride is tense as he opens and closes his fists.

As you come outside, you hear a whistle. Lloyd peers over and scuffs to halt as he faces Thor. The large blond bounds over, a shirt with only one button done up displaying most of his chest. He looks over Lloyd’s shoulder and his cheek dimples.

“Running away?”

“Business,” Lloyd says flatly, “I’ll be back.”

“What about my business?” Thor challenges. Lloyd doesn’t respond. “Relax,” he slaps Lloyd’s arm, “I’m ragging on you. Tonight, we will share some of your scotch, eh? Get you nice and loose.”

“Mm,” Lloyd grumbles, “we’ll see.”

“The little one prefers wine, I think,” Thor points over Lloyd’s shoulder, “oh, and she has quite the sweet tooth, eh? You must know that.”

“Whatever. She’s the assistant. Her job is to worry about what I like,” Lloyd sneers, “don’t wait up.”

He turns back towards the car and you send an apologetic smile past him. Thor smirks and winks, flicking his tongue out lasciviously. You blanch and swiftly follow Lloyd.

You still don’t believe what he said in the kitchen. Not only that he said it but that he meant it. You’re certain it’s all just a part of this pissing match between the men. Thor keeps stepping onto Lloyd’s territory, he’ll keep going till he gets bit. You don’t how much longer Lloyd can hold out.

Lloyd’s in the passenger’s seat of the SUV before you even get to the door. You open it and swing yourself in. You hate how big all these vehicles are. You shove the keys in the slot and turn the engine. You shift in the seat and slide your phone out of your pocket, placing it in the cup holder.

You check the time then the mirrors. It’s not unusual for Lloyd to head out later in the day but you didn’t have anything on the agenda. You know better than to ask questions. That’s what he liked about you, if he likes anything about you.

“Would you just fucking drive?” Lloyd growls.

You wince and shift into gear. You look behind you then ahead of you. Thor watches you as you ease into reverse. Or maybe he’s watching Lloyd…

You roll the wheel and turn towards the gate. Lloyd takes out his phone and slumps in the seat as he scrolls and taps. You steer through the gate and pull out onto the road. You don’t even know if you should ask where to go.

“Head northeast,” he says.

Right. You take his direction and turn onto the ramp onto the highway. He grumbles at his phone but says nothing else until you have to get into the exit lane. What is he up to?

You head into the city and he directs you through the main row where much of the nightlife thrives. You’ve been there many times before. He isn’t shy about his nocturnal activities. He commands you past his typical spot.

When he points you into the lot behind a Hilton, you frown. Is he that desperate to get away from Thor? You don’t say a word as you idle by the back wall.

“Right,” he doesn’t look up from his phone as he undoes his seat belt, “I’ll be a while.”

You look over at him confused. What does he mean?

“I’m sure you can keep yourself entertained,” he pokes his tongue out as he smirks at his phone. You catch the glimpse of a chat, a picture sent of a woman in a thong. You cringe and grip the wheel.

“I’ll just go back to the compound–”

“You’ll stay the fuck here,” he tears his eyes from the cell and jabs his finger at you, “you need to remember who the fuck you work for, kid.”

You say nothing as he opens the door and drops out of the SUV. You know this side of Lloyd. His ego is bruised. It happens after rough missions or when an agent gets mouthy. It’s worse now since he can’t do much about his problem.

He slams the door behind him and you watch him march towards the entrance. You sigh and roll down the windows before you shut off the engine. There’s no use in wasting gas for who knows how long. You’re certain if you get bored, you’ll have enough time to get a coffee down the block.

You grab your phone and shuffle through several apps. You can’t focus on any of the time-eating games you keep for when you’re restless. You have nothing else to distract you. Your sister hasn’t answered the text you sent her a week ago and Lloyd is busy.

You open up your downloaded series and turn on the same show you’ve seen a dozen times before. Still, you’re not paying attention. You don’t think Lloyd is here for business. It really shouldn’t matter to you but it feels extra humiliating to have to wait outside while he does…whatever.

You turn off the show and let the car go silent. You adjust the seat to recline and close your eyes. You’re exhausted. All the chaos has got the best of you.

Your phone vibes before you can get cozy. It’s Lloyd. You tap the preview so it expands.

‘Need lube. Ten minutes.’

You scoff. Is he serious? Your heart shrivels up as your stomach turns. He’s punishing you. Not because you did anything but because he can’t punish Thor. You’re so so tired.

You grip the wheel and stare at the phone. You wonder if he knows? Is this why he’s doing this? All these years, talking about his escapades, you just assumed it was his usual crassness. He talks like that with everyone. If he’s not boasting about killing, it’s fucking.

Either way, he knows what he’s doing. This is low. You are low.

You open up maps and search for a shop nearby. You fix the seat and pull out, driving numbly as you follow the automated voice directing you through the street. You park without paying attention and get out, nearly stumbling from the height of the SUV’s lift.

You stroll inside the shop with its blackened windows and enter with your head down. Your eyes scan furtively as you search for your goal. The task is made more difficult as the flesh toned silicon and shameless displays set you on fire.

“Hello, hon, can I help you find something?” The man behind the counter asks.

“Er,” you cross your arms, “lube.”

“Alrighty, are we looking for flavoured? Water-based? Oil?”

You blanch as he rounds the counter and strides towards a rack. You shrug and trail after him. You see a black bottle with cherries on it.

“That’s fine,” you pluck one off the shelf and quickly retreat to the counter. “Credit.”

You bring up your card on your phone and tap. The man behind the counter tries to break the tension but you’re not listening. You shove the receipt in your pocket and swipe up the bottle and leave.

Back in the truck, you have to hold back from screaming. What are you doing? You don’t need this shit. Why do you keep bending over backwards for Lloyd when you don’t have a chance? Why have you wasted a decade hoping for nothing?

Because, you don’t have any other options.

You turn the car on and roll out of the lot. You make your way back to the hotel in a haze. You check your phone. He sent the room number and nothing else. You walk into the hotel, ignoring the front desk clerk, and wait for the elevator. You step onto it and watch the doors shut.

You get off and follow the signs to the exact door plaque. You knock with your knuckles, your hand fisted around the bottle. You hear giggling. It’s more than one woman. Footsteps approach the other side.

A woman in an open robe opens the door. She has dark wavy hair and smeared lipstick. Lloyd growls in the background as you glimpse his naked ass.

“Hurry up, sugar tits,” he calls, “I’m starting to chafe.”

You shove the bottle at the woman and drop it. You don’t wait to see if she catches it. You spin on your heel and you’re gone. Your eyes fill with hot tears. Tears like acid. Tears of stupidity.

When you get back to the car, you keel over the steering wheel and heave. You don’t hate Lloyd. You hate yourself. You need to cut it out but somehow, you just can’t. He’s the worst person you know and yet, you want him so badly.

❤️‍🩹

As the sky darkens, you get out of the SUV to stretch your legs. You pace around and check the time. You don’t want to get back in the car. Instead, you wander down the street to the coffee kiosk you drove by earlier. You get an Americano and drag your feet back up the pavement.

You stand outside the SUV and sip from the cup. You chew the paper brim anxiously and look at your phone. Another car door opens and closes.

“Candy?” A man approaches.

You look up, the glow of your face making the stranger nothing more than a dark shadow, “not me,” you back up and press your phone to your chest.

“Oh, sorry,” he puts his hands up, “thought you were someone else.”

You shake your head as he turns and wanders off. You’re not entirely sure how he mistook you for a prostitute. That is what he thought, isn’t it? Candy? Sounds pretty tasty.

You get back in the SUV and lock the doors. You put your phone in the cup holder and it flashes. A message. You don’t bother reading it. You tap your fingers on the console and close your eyes, sipping from the warm cup.

A knock on the other window startles you. You turn on the light and see Lloyd peering in. He winks and tugs on the handle. You hit the locks and sit up.

He gets in and lets out a sigh, “ahh, I feel good.”

You don’t say a word as you slip your cup into the empty holder beside your phone. You start the car and press the gas. As you come to the exit, Lloyd yawns and stretches his arm between the seats, gripping yours above your shoulder.

“I’m fucking starving, let’s hit a burger joint,” he says as he rubs his stomach, “you don’t think I would be with how much I ate.”

He cackles and you bite down. You don’t understand it. He repulses you and yet there’s that sharp pang in your chest.

“You see the tits on Kasia? Fucking pert–”

You veer onto the next street and he hits the door with the motion, “hey, be fucking careful.” He shifts in his seat as he touches his crotch, “I’m tender.”

You sniff and pull into the drive through. You stop by the menu, “what do you want?”

“Get me some of that honey chicken and some rings. Extra honey sauce for the rings. Oh, and a sprite.”

“Sure,” you answer as you drive up to the speaker. You recite his order and the fuzzy response tells you to drive up to the window.

“What’s up? You’re not hungry?”

“I’m fine,” you insist.

“Aw, you on another diet,” he taunts, “bone broth?”

“No,” you answer flatly.

“I’m not sharing my rings,” he says.

“I don’t want any,” you insist.

“You’re fucking testy,” he accuses as you pay.

“I’m tired,” you utter and roll up to the pick-up.

“You’re tired? Fuck, my back is aching from all that thrusting.”

“Would you stop?” You snap before you can stop yourself, “I don’t want to hear about your dick anymore.”

He snorts and sits up straight, “excuse me, kid?”

“I don’t care,” you reach over and give a blunt thanks to the drive-thru worker as you take the paper bag. “Why don’t you shut up and eat?"

You shove the bag in his lap then take the cup and move your phone to plant it firmly in the holder. You follow through the lane and back onto the street. The silence is still and stolid around you.

“If you wanted to join in, you just had to say–”

“No,” you snip. You know he’s not serious, he’s teasing you. You’re a joke to him. “No, I don’t want that.” You grip the wheel tight and bite down until your jaw hurts, “I don’t want you.”

He inhales and blows it out heavily through his nose. The bag crinkles as he opens it and reaches inside, unleashing the smell of chicken that makes your stomach rage. You ignore the discomfort and focus on the road.

“Learn to take a fucking joke, kid,” he snickers, “maybe then, you’ll catch a dick or two.”

#lloyd hansen #thor #dark lloyd hansen #dark thor #dark!lloyd hansen #dark!thor #thor x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #mcu #marvel #avengers #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #old scars new blood

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astral--horrorshow · 7 months

Text

Red Snow - Platonic Yandere Mud Dogs x GN Reader

A/N: Happy spooky month, everyone!! This is the first of two stories I'm going to release for October. They're based off of horror/thriller media, and credit to @yandere-toons for the inspiration of merging a horror movie with a yandere scenario with their Invader Zim story!

This story is based off of the film "No Exit", and even though the protag in the film and this share the same name, they aren't the same, that's a just a coincidence.

Try to guess what the second story is based off of! Here's a hint: It most likely served as inspiration for a nordic horror game that's getting a third installment in 2024!!

If anyone wants to draw fanart based off of this story or take any sort of inspiration based off of it, please feel free!! I'd be happy to see anything you make!

Her: You better not be writing a 6000+ fanfic for characters who only had 5 minutes of screentime when I get there!

Me:

Warning: This story is meant for entertainment purposes only and not meant to romanticize or encourage any of the behaviors found in it.

TW: a gun, blood, kidnapping, restraints, semi infantilizism, being struck, hinted fear mongering, slight gore, death, this is strictly platonic

Word Count: 6246

Summary: Darby is stranded at a rest stop in a snowstorm with 5 complete strangers when they unveil a chilling discovery.

Darby wrapped their hands around the mug of coffee, warming their hands up through their fur. They sighed in relief as they began to feel their fingers again, the snow melting.

A snowstorm raged outside, beating against the windows of the rest stop and coating them with layer after layer of dull frost. Looking around, Darby swallowed hard as they took a nervous glance at the people they would be sharing the rest stop with for the foreseeable future. Three other yōkai shared the table in the center of the room with them, with a fourth napping in the corner of the room, and another making himself a cup of coffee. Their hand instinctively drifted to the pocket on their jeans, attempting to soothe their nerves by rubbing the denim-covered contents. The air was thick and hard to breathe in, not with Darby’s nerves.

“What’s your name, kid?”

The cat yōkai jolted, yanking their hand away from their pocket and staring at the bat yōkai from across the table. “Sorry?” They breathed out, trying to regain the air in their lungs.

“I said, what’s your name?”

“Oh! Oh. Darby, sorry…”

“Nothing to apologize for,” the bat said, reaching up and scratching his big ear, “But you’ll want to get used to me. We’ll be here for a while.

Darby swallowed again, and nodded. The bat gave a half-smile to them, and spoke again.

“I’m Rafferty, and this is my wife-”

“Juane,” the borzoi yōkai next to him butted in.

“Right, Juane,” Rafferty turned to the eel on Darby’s right and opened his mouth, but the eel beat him to it.

“I’m Mickey!” He said, cheerfully.

“Well, hello, Mickey.” Juane said, staring at him with a turned head. Mickey grinned at her, which unsettled Darby. In fact, all of the yōkai in that room freaked them out. They didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way Juane’s eyes seemed to stare at them from behind her long snout, maybe it was Rafferty’s intimidating aura or Mickey’s freaky grin.

Everyone sat in near-silence again, the sound of the coffee maker and the snowstorm being the only companion to the yōkai’s ears. Mickey looked like he wanted to say something, but he took a glance at the rat making the coffee, and kept his mouth shut. Darby took notice of this, and an uneasy feeling burrowed into their stomach. Maybe they were overthinking it, but maybe not. Why would Mickey stop himself from talking after looking at a stranger?

Darby clutched their knees. They needed to be away from people, to clear their head. They stood up from the table, the grating sound of the chair scooting back on the hardwood making them internally wince. They half-stumbled to the bathroom, unaware of the burning stare boring into their back.

Inside the bathroom, Darby pulled out their phone to find it had no service. Even though they were expecting it, being in a rest stop in the middle of nowhere with a snowstorm raging outside, they still groaned. The thought of being completely stranded with the unsettling strangers that they had just met made them feel sick. They buried their head in their hands, taking a deep breath. Maybe they could get some service outside. They needed to get away from all of that thick air, anyways.

Darby trekked out of the bathroom, not sparing even a passing glance at the other yōkai while they walked towards the doors. They pushed the doors open, the frigid air drawing all heat from their body and bits of ice pelting their coat and nose. They didn’t mind. It was freeing. Refreshing, even. Their boots crunched against the snow as they took their phone out of the pocket of their olive green jacket, holding up like a flare in hopes of getting at least a single bar. They tramped around in the thick snow, trying not to let go of their phone by gripping as tight as they could with their quickly numbing fingers.

A metallic-sounding thud barley pierced Darby’s ears through the vociferous whistling of the storm, but they heard it, nonetheless. There was another thud, and Darby snapped their head towards the vehicle it came from, a large, dark van.

Darby lowered their phone and stumbled towards the van, glancing back at the rest stop windows. Nobody had moved or was looking at them. They jumped behind the van, standing at its back doors. One of the windows had been covered up with something, but the other one had only snow as its curtain. They wiped away the snow with their hand, and immediately jumped back.

There was a human in the van.

Your arms and shins were tightly bound together with rope, and a gag covered your mouth. You banged on the window with your arms and Darby could hear you whimper as they stumbled back in shock. Shaking off their surprise, they turned back to the window again to make sure that nobody was looking, and threw themselves to the door window.

“Hey, hey, I’m gonna get you out of here, alright? I’m gonna help you, you’re gonna be okay.”

You continued to whimper, attempting to open the van doors with your bound and mittened hands to no avail. Darby tried the doors, too. Locked.

Darby panted in fear, eyes widening when they glanced back at the window and saw a figure standing tall with their back turned. Darby practically leaped to the other side of the van, pressing their back to it and holding their hand up to their chest, feeling their heart beating fast. They didn’t want to believe that they were in this situation, that they were dreaming, or hallucinating.

Taking a deep breath, they attempted to calm their nerves. They only had to play it cool until they could get help. But who knows how long that would be? And they didn’t even know who the van even belonged to! Everyone in there was an equal suspect, and Darby didn’t even know the other two’s names! They groaned and tugged on their ears. The cat yōkai couldn’t just pull you out, but there had to be a way to help, there had to!

Darby smoothed some of the frazzled fur on their head and took another breath. It was going to be hard, but playing cool was their only option until they could deduce who the owner of the van was, or at least get one bar of service. They walked back to the rest stop, holding their phone above their head again.

They tucked it back into their pocket when they opened the doors, swallowing the lump in their throat when they saw the two other yōkai, now sitting at the table. The rat decked out in purple smiled at Darby as they walked inside with what might’ve been a warm smile if he didn’t have such an air of coldness to him. Darby tried their best to smile at him back, though it probably looked more like a grimace. They didn’t smile much, anyways.

They sat back down in their chair, taking in the sight of playing cards on the table and the scent of cheap instant coffee wafting in the air. “Well, hello,” the rat said in a friendly tone, “It looks like we have everyone here! My name’s Danny.”

He reached a hand out to Darby, and they gingerly shook it. “Darby…”

Though the ogre yōkai to the right of Danny was sitting at the table with everyone else, he didn’t make any move to speak, focusing more on the deck of cards in his hands, which he was shuffling with his thick fingers. Darby eyed him nervously. Silent and sullen-seeming, he might’ve been the type to hide a human in his van, but Darby stopped themself from making any assumptions. If there was one thing their mother taught them, it’s that one can’t judge from feeling alone. Darby knew plenty of quiet and sullen people, including themself. That didn’t mean that they had a human in their car. The snake in the grass could be any one of the people they shared the table with.

“So, where are you all headed?”

Rafferty struck up conversation again, glancing around at everyone. “I’m headed to Shimmering Isle with Juane.”

“I’m going to the Enclave. Don’t you just need a change of scenery every once in a while?” Danny said, raising his coffee cup up to his mouth.

“That’s neat, son. And where are you headed, Darby?”

Darby’s throat went dry as they opened their mouth to speak, eyes darting around the room as they tried to think up a place for them to say. They just wanted to get away from the Hidden City, they didn’t realize they would have to lie to a stranger about it.

Luckily for them, Danny spilled his coffee on Mickey, and luckily for Mickey, it was only lukewarm at that point. Still, he groaned when the dark liquid stained his bright orange t-shirt and ran down his tail. Danny apologized profusely, but it didn’t seem genuine to Darby. Maybe not to Mickey, either, as he was glaring at Danny like he had just defaced a priceless family heirloom.

Darby took advantage of the commotion and slipped inside the bathroom again, looking around for a window or a back door until they saw a big hole covered up with a piece of flimsy plywood. They grabbed a crowbar near the hole, and pried it open with some effort. They rushed back to the van and slipped the edge of the crowbar between the cracks of the passenger seat door, prying it open, too.

The cat yōkai crawled inside the car and closed the door behind them, practically diving to you. They lifted up your head gently, awkwardly petting it with their other hand in an attempt to soothe your cries and whimpers from behind your gag. “Hey, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine,” they repeated like a mantra, trying to convince themselves more than you. “My name is Darby, and I’m gonna get us out of here, okay? We’re gonna get out here.”

Darby grabbed the side of your gag, attempting to pull it off when they heard the driver’s side handle jiggling, whoever was attempting to open it was having a hard time. Darby’s eyes widened, and their eyes darted around to find a hiding place. Spotting a pile of blankets in the corner right behind the driver’s seat, they slipped under it, tucking the crowbar in, pulling their legs in and internally praying that their ears didn’t stick out.

The door opened, and someone slid into the front seat. Yanking the door shut, Mickey’s voice muttered angrily.

“You could’ve just tapped me, you could’ve done ANYTHING but spill coffee on me! Man, this is totally gonna stain!”

Tears ran down your face as you craned your neck to gaze up at Mickey, curling into yourself on the floor. He heard your sniffles and looked down at you, his face now set in gentle confusion and concern instead of the death glare he sported merely a moment ago. “Oh, sorry, little pike. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, “It’s just- Danny can be such an a-” Mickey cut himself off, taking a deep, shaky breath. “Danny can be very mean… sometimes.”

He said this through gritted teeth, as though it was physically painful for him to talk in the way one would to a kindergartener. He ran his arm over the fin on the top of his head, closing his eyes. “Oh, yeah!” He exclaimed, opening his eyes again, “I’m supposed to be checking on you. Are you okay?” He took notice of your puffy eyes and shaky breaths, “You don’t look so good-”

MIckey halted his sentence, his eyes widening as he looked at the uncovered back window and the piece of cardboard near your feet, “What the hell?! Did you do that?!” He pulled himself into the back, scrambling towards the door. He snatched the cardboard up from the floor and put it back on the window before turning back around to you. “We told you not to touch the windows!”

You started to sob again, eyes shutting tightly as you curled up into yourself. “Hey, hey, hey, don’t cry. You’re gonna be okay.” Mickey switched back to his gentle tone, petting your head with his arm, “Trust me, things’ll get a lot better when we get to Jadetown.” He said this while using his other arm to reach into one of the many boxes in the van, pulling out a shirt exactly like the one he was wearing, except that it didn’t have a coffee stain on it. He pulled off his black coat, inspecting the stormy fur that lined the hood to see if there was any trace of coffee on it, and set it aside to change his shirt.

After Mickey pulled his coat back on, he grinned at you and petted your head again. “I have to go back inside now, people’ll think I’ve died, haha!” He clambered back into the driver's seat and got out of the van. He slithered towards the rest stop again, pulling his jacket closer around him. Mickey wasn’t paying attention to the world in front of him, as always, so it was a surprise when he bumped into the chest of Leonard, with Danny behind him. If looks could kill, the ogre yōkai would have a bigger body count than he already had, but it wasn’t directed at Mickey, no, he was glaring at their van. The eel looked back at him and the van, confused.

“What is it, Len?” Mickey asked, “Is there a scratch on the paint, or-”

“No, there isn’t a scratch!” Leonard snarled, “Where’s the cat?”

Mickey looked back to the van, eyes shooting towards the bootprints leading towards its back door.

Once they were sure that Mickey was back inside, Darby slipped out of it again, and rushed over to you again. This time, they were able to take off your gag, and you coughed and cried and took shaky, deep breaths as though your head had just been let up out of a bucket of water. Darby lifted your head up, wrapping an arm around your back in support.

“What did he mean by ‘we’? Are there other people with him?”

You let out another sob, “Yes, yes, yes- Please, please help me…” You spoke incoherently after you has answered Darby’s question, but their blood ran cold as they looked up and saw three figures standing outside of the rest stop door, their stares rapt on the van. Darby’s fur stood up on end, and after they stumbled back, tipping a few boxes over mistakenly, they pulled open the back door and fell into the snow. They scrambled into the surrounding forest, hoping to loop back while your kidnappers were distracted.

You felt the hope that you would be saved disappear with Darby into the trees, tears flowing from your eyes and down your face in grief for your potential freedom. The harsh wind from the open door felt bitterly cold. The sliding door on the side of the van was yanked open by Leonard, who looked at the open back door and the objects littered around the van from Darby’s getaway. He seethed in anger, clenching his fist. “Mickey, come with me. Danny, stay here.” As he and Mickey ran off after the cat yōkai who could ruin everything for them, Danny got into the back of the van and closed all the doors. After he re-fastened the gag around your mouth, he pet your cheek and smiled.

Darby stumbled through the trees, pushing branches out of their way and trying not to trip over roots and rocks hidden under the heavy snow. They heard shouting behind them, along with the faint sound of a pair of footsteps that weren’t their own and what sounded like something being dragged across the snow.

The farther they ran, the harder it was for them to keep their balance. They nearly slipped with every step, but they refused to let themself give up. If those criminals caught them, they would be as good as dead. Darby started to practically climb up the hill, seeing the distant light from the rest stop glowing above their head. The running and shouting was getting closer, “Get back here! You’ll ruin everything!”

They ignored every word the ogre and the eel shouted at them, only focused on their goal; get back to the stop and tell Rafferty and Juane what was going on. That was the only way they would have even a sliver of a chance saving you. The light grew brighter, they were almost there! But anything that seems too good to be true usually is, for the moment they caught a glimpse of the roof, Danny jumped in front of them from seemingly nowhere, making them stumble back.

The back of their boot snagged on a root hidden deep beneath the glimmering snow, but instead of falling back on the hill and landing upside-down, they started to roll down the hill, getting face-full after face-full of dirt, leaves, and snow. Leonard reached out to grab them, but they knocked him over so that he started to roll, too.

Darby and Leonard hit a tree, hard. It knocked the wind out of Darby’s lungs, but Leonard was able to recover faster. Darby opened their swirling eyes and saw a gun slipping out of the inside pocket of Leonard’s jacket as he was reaching out for them. Just as it fell out, they shot their hand out and gripped it like their life depended on it, which it did.

Quickly regaining their senses, Darby pushed themself back with their feet, taking advantage of Leonard’s shock to stand up and point the gun in front of them, shifting its aim between Danny, Mickey, and Leonard, who had stood up and was closing in on them with the other two.

“Come on, kid,” Danny said, “We don’t want trouble. Hand over the gun and keep your mouth shut, and nothing bad will happen to you.”

“I’m not an idiot, don’t lie to me!” Darby said, voice raised, “Stay away, or I’ll shoot you. I’ll do it!”

Danny honed in on the way they were holding the gun, and scoffed internally. They didn’t know how to use that thing. If he were to run out and grab it, he would’ve been able to push them into the stream aways down before they figured out where the trigger was.

“No, you won’t. Come on, we want to get out of here just as much as you do.”

“I bet you do. Why do you have a human?”

“It’s impolite to ask about other people’s business, dear,” he condescended, taking tiny steps forwards.

“It’s everyone’s business if you have it tied up!”

“You don’t know anything!” Leonard yelled, making Darby jump.

The moment the cat's eyes flitted away from him, Danny lunged at them. The two struggled with the gun for a few seconds before it fired into the snow, startling everyone. Darby pushed the rat off of them and made a mad dash towards the top, going as twice as fast as they had before. Crashing footsteps sounded through the forest, but this time, only in the forest. There was no fourth accomplice waiting to grab them at the stop, so they made it safely into the rest stop again, slamming the glass doors behind them. Rafferty and Juane stared at them, apt confusion on both of their faces.

“What’s wrong, Darby? What’s going on?”

The cat was out of breath, holding their hand up to their chest and wheezing. “Dan, Mick, Leonard-”

“What about them-” Rafferty began to inquire, but cut himself off at the sight of the aforementioned yōkai nearing the door, each with a menacing look and a weapon in their hand. Darby turned to face them and wondered, did they get the other two from the truck? They probably did, Darby thought, but shook their head. It wasn’t important where they got the weapons when they were closing in like a kettle of vultures to roadkill.

“What are they doing, Darby?” Juane asked, holding on to her husband's arm as they backed up out of their seats.

“They have a human tied up in their van, and they know I know it.”

The two elder yōkai gasped, holding on to each other tighter. “What are we going to do?” Juane asked, “I haven’t fought since-”

“No, no. Go hide.” Darby interrupted, “I started this. I’ll finish it.”

Rafferty and Juane looked at each other for a moment, then nodded. Darby continued to stare down the approaching criminals as the sound of swift footsteps faded behind them. Each of them had a murderous look on their face.

As they got closer and closer, Darby realized something. They had no weapon of their own. They left the crowbar in the van, and even if they did have it, they were facing three yōkai that had probably killed before. Darby never once won a schoolyard fight, what made them think they could take on three criminals? They backed up as they thought of the foolishness of their plan, mentally berating themself for their impulsiveness.

This was all their fault. They were going to be murdered, then Rafferty and Juane would probably be found and face the same fate. Then you would get carted off to who-knows-where and be subjected to who-knows-what. For the first time in months, tears welled up in Darby’s eyes as they stumbled backwards and hit the wall.

You squirmed across the floor towards the pile of blankets in the corner that Darby had taken refuge under. None of your captors has time to search the van. You shoved your bound arms under the blanket, feeling up and down until your hands hit the cold piece of metal. You grabbed it, and tried to tug on the knot of your ropes with the end of it as hard you could.

Minutes passed with barely any results, and you were about to give up when you felt the grip the ropes had on your arms loosen. Your soul rose and flew, and you continued to tug until they had slipped off. You pushed yourself up and started to practically throw every restraint off, cradling yourself once you threw the ropes and the gag far away from you.

The only thing you wanted to do was curl up and cry, but you had already done enough of that the past few days. You had to get out of here, maybe Darby was still alive. Maybe they were still around. Probably not, you thought to yourself. If they were fast, the Mud Dogs were faster. The last time you had tried to run, they had caught you in under a minute. But maybe there were still other people who could help you. You had been drilled countless times about how no other yōkai would like humans as much, but this could be your last chance. If they had made it to Jadetown, who knows when you would be allowed outside again? They did say they had to lay low for a while, you heard them arguing about it.

Shaking off your fears, you crawled into the driver's seat and opened the door, falling face-first into the snow. You stood on your wobbly legs and stumbled to the hood of the truck, where you saw the wide-open doors of the building your captors were in, and a bullet going into your would-be savior's head. Blood and flesh splattered all over the dark wood of the walls, and you suppressed a scream.

You fell backwards into the snow, putting a hand over your mouth and scooting away. You couldn’t find the strength to stand up. You took a glance around the parking lot. There were definitely more than two cars, but who did they belong to? You couldn’t see or hear anyone else in the building. You didn’t think they were dead. You would’ve heard screaming or a gunshot or-

You broke yourself out of your thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that. You needed to get away. If one of them turned around, your freedom would come to an end. No, you had to get into the woods. At least you could be a little concealed there. Then you could figure out what to do.

With newfound confidence and adrenaline, you made yourself stand up again. You glanced around, and saw the entrance to a hiking trail 30 yards away from you. Trying to be as quiet as possible, you stumbled to the trail, heading into more darkness.

The Mud Dogs walked out of the bathroom, having killed the other two yōkai that were in there and washing the blood off of their faces and hands. Leonard smoothed his hair, closing his eyes and taking a breath. It had been a long night. First, the storm. Then Darby came along. He growled at the thought of them, trying to hold himself back from kicking their body. This was all their fault. They had to lay low, and the cat almost ruined everything. He sighed. There was no use hanging up on it.

“Why is the van door open?”

Leonard and Danny snapped up at Mickey’s question, honing in on the parking lot. He was right, it was open. Tiny footsteps led to the side, going off into the forest. Leonard froze. You didn’t.

You did.

When the Mud Dogs ran out and opened the van, you were nowhere to be found. Your restraints were on the floor with a crowbar. Leonard barely bit back his scream of anger. All of the trouble they went through tonight, and now you had run off into the snowy woods without proper clothes and you were going to freeze to death if they didn’t find you on time. Just wonderful.

The three ran after your footsteps into the woods, Leonard ordering Mickey to go right after it had gotten too dark to see the forest floor. Leonard and Danny tramped forwards, pushing branches aside and keeping their ears open for any noises over the snowstorm. Danny groaned internally. Out of all the things to forget back in the Hidden City, why did it have to be the flashlight?

“Dollface! Come back!” Danny shouted, his voice echoing off the trees.

“There’s no use in yelling, Danny. They’re not going to come to us no matter how cold they are.”

“Well, at least I’m trying.” Danny mumbled, feeling his feet numb through his boots, “Maybe Mickey found them…”

“He would’ve yelled for us. Go left, I’ll keep going on ahead. They couldn't have gone far.”

You dragged your numb feet through the deep snow, trying to stay awake. The snow had soaked through your socks, which were worse-for-wear. You tried to keep yourself optimistic in spite of your numb hands and feet and exhausted mind and body. All you needed to do was make it to a road, or a house, or someone who wasn’t a criminal. That was all you…

You fell to your knees, throwing your hands in front of you to stop your nose from hitting the ground. You could barely hold yourself up, your arms shaking from weakness and the cold. Snow and ice whipped at your face, making you somehow sting and feel numb at the same time. Your attempts to push yourself up were in vain, as you fell into the snow the moment you lifted your arms. You could only turn your head to the side to avoid suffocating in the snow, and nothing else. Your thoughts felt foggy and the snow twisted to swirls in your vision. You were so cold. So tired. You just wanted to go home.

Danny called out your name, his ears twitching for any sort of answer or noise. Along with his insane worry, he also held anger at you. How could you do this to them? Why didn’t you just stay put?

“Hey, I found them!”

Mickey’s shout rang throughout the woods, and Danny ran towards the sound of his voice. Leonard was already there, kneeling towards your unconscious body and hoisting you off of the ground, feeling your pulse.

“Are they alive?” Danny asked, feeling his heart sink to his stomach.

“Yeah, they are, but they’re freezing. Let’s get them by that heater.”

They sped off towards the rest stop, Leonard carrying you in his arms. They reached the indoors, Mickey closing the doors behind them after he had retrieved a few lengths of rope from the van. Leonard pulled a chair in front of the heater on the left side of the room, setting you down in it. Mickey tied your arms and legs to the chair’s own limbs, making sure to tighten them to the point where you were sure to have bruises on your skin if you struggled.

Leonard cast off his jacket and threw it over you, making sure that your practically frozen fingers and feet still faced the heater. As mad as he was at you, he wouldn’t go so far as to cause body parts to fall off. He sank into a chair, leaning back and closing his eyes. It had been a long night. They just needed to sit for a while.

Danny clenched his hands around his chair, his sharp nails digging into the wood. They needed to keep you on a tighter leash. Look what you did the moment they took their eyes off of you. It was all the cat's fault. You had already gotten worked up, all antsy inside the van. Their little intervention didn’t do you any favors. Danny steeled himself. They learned something from this. You were going to learn something from this. It had been about a month since they had taken you in, and you still didn’t realize how much they cared for you. He gripped the seat in anger again. Ungrateful brat.

Mickey was grabbing random objects on the other side of the room to electrocute until they were either crispy or ash, the smell of burning filling the room. He threw his debris to the side before continuing on something else. Leonard turned his head towards his teal cohort. “Mickey! Stop that!”

Mickey gave him a death stare, but ceased his violence towards inanimate objects. He slithered over to a chair and crossed his arms, like a kid who was forced to go to their siblings piano recital.

Leonard rubbed his face with his hands. They still needed to take care of you, even if you had run off. What was the point in saving you if they didn’t take care of you afterwards? And besides, the last thing they needed was for you to get sick. Danny was the only one who really knew how to care of a sick person, and he would be fuming at you for a few days, at the very least.

He walked to the counter, taking a TV dinner and shoving it into the microwave. Once it was done, he took it out and walked over to you, pulling up a chair and sitting across from you. He grabbed your shoulder and shook you until your bleary eyes opened to a sliver.

The light was blinding after being stuck in a dark van for so long. You closed them again, but Leonard shook you again.

“Wake up,” He said.

Your entire body felt hot and cold at the same time, truly punctuating your discomfort. You were shivering and your head hurt something awful. Leonard poked a spoon against your lips. “Eat.”

You had refused to eat early in your captivity. It didn’t go well. The thought of having food shoved down your throat made you want to gag, so you opened your mouth and ate the food you were offered. You had to admit, it made you hurt a little less, having something in your stomach. Even if it was a crappy frozen dinner.

Leonard tossed out the plastic container, walked into the bathroom, and closed the door. You could vaguely hear the sound of a sink inside.

Just as you were about to try to sleep off the pain, Danny stood up. You watched him jerk his head towards the bathroom at Mickey, and the eel got up and went in. Danny walked towards you with a purpose in his steps and eyes, and he didn’t stop until he was right in front of you.

“How could you?” He almost whispered, the rage in his eyes apparent. “After everything we’ve done for you, how well we treat you, you still run from us?” He said, his voice raising, “What, do you think we’re not good enough, huh?”

Danny clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes at you. “You selfish, ungrateful brat. We take such good care of you, and you just spit that goodwill back in our face.” He leaned forwards and grabbed your face, his nails digging into your cheeks. “Never do this again. Even think about it, and I’ll show you just how bad I can be.”

You started to sniffle, which turned into full-on sobbing in a matter of moments. Your cries filled Danny with even more rage. How could you be the one crying? He hadn’t even done anything that was worth spilling tears over. He gritted his teeth as his mind went blind with rage. He’d give you something to cry about.

He raised his hand, and brought it down upon your cheek.

Danny took a step back from you as your sobbing stopped for a second, and came back in full force, a bright handprint now on your cheek. A wave of guilt flashed over him, but he turned away from you so he didn’t have to look at your trembling. You deserved it, he told himself over and over.

Leonard and Mickey walk back into the room a moment later, talking in hushed voices. When he hears your crying, Leonard halts and stares at you and the blooming bruise on your cheek. His eyes widen, and Mickey looks back and forth between everyone before grinning.

“Looks like Dan got to them first,” He said, and strolled back to his seat. Leonard turned his gaze on Danny’s back with clenched fists and a twitching eye. “What were you thinking?!” He snaps, “They’re already all cold and roughed up, what if you broke them?!”

Danny scoffs, his gaze focused on the wall and all the guilt seeming to wash away from him. “Oh, please. They’re not made of glass. They deserved it.”

Leonard took a deep breath. “We’ve all had a long night. Don’t make it even longer.”

Danny didn’t respond. Leonard resisted the urge to yell at him. As much as he wanted to, he had to make sure that Danny didn’t do lasting damage. He grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and approached you, pulling up a chair.

He held your chin up with one hand and held the ice pack up to your bruising cheek with the other. By then, your sobbing had turned to quiet hiccups and sniffles, and you were merely shivering instead of shaking like a leaf. Leonard didn’t show it, but concern rose in his chest. You ran, and that deserved consequences, but you were only a human. A tiny human, at that, weak and fragile. He had heard the stories. Humans could die if they went to bed wrong. Unfortunately, his cohorts didn’t know that, if he wasn’t there to stop them, they would’ve already broken you, and then what?

He sighed and looked at you. You diverted your gaze away from him as much as you could with his grip on your face. “Hey,” He almost whispered, “I’ll tell Danny to leave you alone, but if you run again, I might not be able to stop him.”

You finally faced him as he let go of your chin, and nodded. Your cheek flared in pain as it rubbed against the ice pack.

The Mud Dogs loaded into their van again, the approaching dawn apparent. Fresh ropes bound your arms and legs, although the gag wasn’t as tight as to not hurt your cheek. Mickey sat next to you, leaning against the wall. When you looked into the gloomy skies of the yōkai world through your glimpses of the windshield, you imagined the sun shining on your face

Taglist: @yanteetle @oleander-nin

#platonic yandere #yandere rottmnt #yandere tmnt #yandere rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere mud dogs #mud dogs #mud dogs rottmnt #yandere mud dogs rottmnt #yandere mud dogs x reader #platonic yandere mud dogs x reader #mud dogs x reader #platonic mud dogs x reader

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positivexcellence · 28 days

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Interview: Jared Padalecki on Walker Season 4, The Show’s Future & More

KSITETV’S CRAIG BYRNE: What can you tease about The Jackal, particularly in relation to his history with certain characters?

JARED PADALECKI: The Jackal is a serial killer who haunted then-Ranger James and Ranger Walker five years prior when they were partners, and before Ranger James became Captain James. The Jackal, and his choice of kills and the victims he left behind, really tortured and tormented James and he took it personally. We were never able to solve it, and the Jackal;s case went cold, and we have kind of assumed he had died or stopped or something. And then, as we found out during James’s wedding of all times, someone with a similar M.O. to the Jackal surfaced, and because of how dark it sent James five years prior, Trey and Walker decide to look into it low-key with Detective Luna from Corpus Christi, who Walker and James had worked with back in the day.

We find out in Season 4 that sure enough, the Jackal is back, And so, Walker finds himself stuck in a position. We’ve learned in the first three seasons that keeping secrets among Rangers is not a great idea, but Walker thinks he’s doing what’s best for James. He doesn’t want to him spiraling. James just went on his honeymoon, and he’s married, and he’s going well. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe this is a coincidence. But we soon seem to settle that it is the original Jackal, and the Jackal is back. Walker takes it on himself to save James from that same torment that he went through five years ago., but the question is how much can Walker take on on James’ behalf, without falling prey to the same feelings himself?

Twitter made me ask you this: Is there any chance that The Jacckal might be played by an actor that you’ve referred to as “Jackles” before?

[LAUGHS] No. All But that’s a great question!

The readers of KSiteTV loved Walker Independence, and it’s great that hopefully we’ll be seeing more of Justin Johnson Cortez as Detective Luna. Is there any chance we might see more people from the show in new roles in the present day, or maybe another Hoyt flashback?

JARED: Let’s say yes. We will be seeing some of our our Windy family. We loved the show as well.

And is there any chance we’ll see those classic characters again?

The answer, again, is yes.

Jensen [Ackles] and I used to have something funny during Supernatural. We did several seasons with 23 episodes, and we likened it to sports analogies. We’d be like “you know, if you’re going to shoot 23 three pointers during a game, you’re not going to make ’em all. If you’re gonna drive the lane 23 times, or go to bat 23 times, then you’re gonna put some air balls. You’re gonna strike out sometimes. But with 13 episodes, they’re all knockouts. They’re all home runs.

We didn’t waste any time this year [on Walker]. We have 13 episodes to make an amazing season of television. I’m on set right now shooting the finale, and I can say with confidence that this is our strongest season.

Are you feeling good about the possibility of a fifth season?

I am. I don’t know… I mean, even during Supernatural’s last season, something can always happen. There can be a strike. There can be COVID. There can be a merger. There can be something.

My career for the last 25 years has been based around not really knowing what’s going to happen. You know, “is Gilmore Girls gonna go? Am I going to get an option to do it again? Oh, now it’s CW instead of Warner Brothers. Oh, now we have a new showrunner. Oh, now we have another showrunner! Now we’re changing nights. Now there’s COVID. Now there’s a strike.” [Last year’s strike] was the second strike I had been through in my career. So, all I can speak to is the quality of work we’re putting out, and there’s nothing I could change.

I will say that I have no reason to think that we we will not carry on. I intend to do the show for another 10 years, so hopefully the powers that be feel the same way. I know our cast and crew all hope for the same. We’re willing and able. Our writers are incredible, with the stories they come up with and the speed with which they can come up with great storylines and great arcs for each and every character… and our crew that makes it… if I was a network, then I would want this show to go as long as everybody who’s making the show would go.

I couldn’t be more proud of the work that we’re putting out there. I think we kind of stand alone, as far as new scripted hour-longs out there. We’re a great combination of heart and action, and trying to mimic reality as best as possible, which I think is needed and necessary. I’ve certainly heard from fans on the street and via social media and whatnot, how much they appreciate it and enjoy it. I’m very optimistic.

How are things with Cordell and Geri as we get into Season 4?

They’ve had five months together since Larry and Kelly’s wedding, snd things have been going well. Things have kind of cooled off; the Jackal’s trail went cold, and so maybe it was not a big deal. They’ve kind of been enjoying the summer with August and Stella and Bonham and Abeline, and they’ve had some time together.

There’s been work for Cordell and for Geri, obviously, but they’re on the same page. They’re living together, and they’re enjoying each other’s company, and they found a place.

Obviously, they both went through some hardships in their prior relationships. Luckily, I think with a lot of great relationships, when they become romantic, they start as friendships. Because Geri and Cordell started as a platonic relationship for many years, they’ve seen each other as friends, and they kind of know who each other’s hearts are. I think they’re enjoying that time and chance to breathe together, and just be with each other.

Is it hard for Cordell that Stella and August are both growing up, with Stella already off to school and August approaching senior year?

It’s very, very hard, and I think you’re more prescient than maybe you even realize; we kind get into that in Episode 2, and as the season goes on, of what it’s like to be to be preparing to be an empty nester, especially without your spouse. So we certainly do see that, and again, going back to what I said earlier about Walker’s storylines imitating life as best as we can, we certainly do see Walker going through that very real [situation].

At work, he is this big Texas Ranger who gets to go in and save the day and all as well, and then at home, he wants to be a Dad, but the clock is ticking. One of his kids is already gone, and the second is a senior in high school, and presumably soon to be spreading his wings. So what does that look like and feel like for this big tough dude?

Will we get to see Walker’s reaction to the situation that Stella got into at the end of last season?

Oh, yeah. And that storyline doesn’t stop, because it’s not all over. Obviously, months have passed and there have been investigations and there is conclusion of sorts, but as with most things in life, it brings about a whole new set of problems that we will deal with through the entire season.

Why should people check out the season premiere on Wednesday night?

I think a lot of us, myself included, have been dying to see what the whole Walker clan is up to. Not with the Walker clan with with the last name Walker. And we get a great catch up with a friend we haven’t talked to in a while. We have action. We have comedy, we have drama… but also, it feels like a dear friend that I haven’t caught up with in way too long, and I get all the ins and outs of what’s been going on their lives over the last period of time

ksite

#jared padalecki #walker

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xcherryerim · 1 month

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What You Deserve

Vanessa Shelly x gn!reader

SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | 18+ ONLY

Warning: this so short that it’s literally oral sex (to vanessa) , reader is into Vanessa AND Mike. More plot than porn tbh sorryyyy

So, I had this idea FOR A WHILE before i even started writing and i was waiting for someone to ask me to write for vanessa but no one did ☹️ so I wrote it anyways. It’s not my best writing that is because I wrote it in one go to get it out of the way bc i’m overwhelmed with other ideas and requests for jhutch characters. I might re write this in the future we’ll see.

Summary: Engaged in a situationship with Mike, you can’t help but let your insecurity drive you the conclusion that Mike and Vanessa are into each other, that’s until Vanessa proves you wrong.

“Let’s go!” You excitedly cheer as you win the bowling game, only to realize that Mike, your not-so-boyfriend, was too caught up staring at Vanessa to notice that he even lost.

You tell yourself that you’re not allowed to be jealous, since Mike is technically not your boyfriend. Despite the lack of official labels, you and Mike act as if you’re a couple without one. However, there’s no denying that something is going on between Mike and Vanessa, and you don’t particularly like it.

“Oh, good job!” Vanessa said to you, with a cheerful smile on her face that she would manage to fake, just to hide the bitter truth. She was likely looking you up and down, trying to find an advantage to exploit, so she could feel superior to you.

You could instantly tell that her attitude wasn't genuine, so all you could manage was a quick "thanks."

“Actually…” Vanessa said, turning towards Mike, the person she was more interested in, “Why don’t you get a reward for the winner?”

“Huh, yeah, alright,” Mike responded, before walking off and leaving you alone with Vanessa.

“So,” Vanessa said, as she leaned in close to you while still staying just out of reach. “You and Mike are together or something?”

You tried to stay composed and avoid stuttering, even though you knew that she could likely see right through your lie. “I—we—“

“Friends with benefits?” Vanessa asked with a mocking tone, daring you to say otherwise, as she smirked at you.

“You’re better than some situationship,” Vanessa stated, this time with a surprisingly genuine tone. It seemed to leave you speechless for a moment before you struggled to conjure up a response.

So?” you asked, “We’re grown adults. I don’t need your permission to be with whoever I want.”

“Come on,” Vanessa said as she moved forward, pressing her body against yours, taking your breath away. “You need someone mature, someone that takes you seriously.” she continued, smirking at you, obviously knowing how the conversation was making you feel.

“You need someone to please you, to make you happy. I doubt you’re getting any of that.” Vanessa finished, clearly playing into your insecurities, but in a strangely flirty way.

As she stood back from you, looking directly into your eyes, her words weighed heavily upon you. Venessa’s words were both provocative and challenging, yet they aroused an unexpected curiosity inside you. Your heart raced as you considered her proposition, unsure how to respond. She looked pleased with her effect on you, sensing that she had gotten under your skin.

“Maybe I don’t need anyone,” you retorted, trying to maintain control over your emotions and hide your vulnerability. But even as you spoke, you couldn't help feeling intrigued by the idea she presented. Could there be more to you both than just this casual interaction? Was she genuinely interested, or was she simply toying with you?

Vanessa smiled, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Well," she drawled, "I think we both know that's not entirely true." She took a step closer, her scent enveloping you, and whispered, "But you can keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night." With that, she turned around and sashayed away, leaving you standing there in confusion and desire.

“I know you’re doing this because you want Mike for yourself!”

Vanessa stopped mid-step, turning around slowly, her hips swaying seductively. She raised an eyebrow at you, tilting her head slightly. "Oh really?" she asked playfully. "And what makes you so sure about that?"

“Oh please! Do you think I don’t notice how Mike gets around you? I know you guys had something in the past!”

"Isn't it fascinating how people jump to conclusions?" Vanessa retorted, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Just because Mike likes me doesn't mean I like him back.” She crossed her arms over her chest, a challenge evident in her gaze.

"You're projecting your insecurities onto me," she added, taking another step near you. "Admit it, you're jealous. You're afraid I'll take what's 'yours.' But, is Mike truly what you want?”

Pausing for a moment, she stared intently into your eyes, her gaze intense and unwavering. "Mike may be your safety net, but what happens when you want something more?"

“So? Why do you care anyway?” You responded in anger to her treatment.

“You still don’t get it huh?” Vanessa let out a soft chuckle, her laughter ringing in the air like a bell tolling a warning. Her eyes narrowed, her expression growing more serious. "I care because it's obvious you're not happy. I care because I see potential in you, potential you waste on mediocrity." She shook her head, her disapproval clear.

"It's not my business, but if you ever decide to stop hiding behind that safety net and spread your wings, remember - I'm here, waiting." With that, she spun around and strode away, leaving you alone with her words, echoing in your mind. Despite the anger, her words left you pondering. Were you truly settling for less? Could there be something more out there?

“Vanessa wait,” You held onto her wrist. “What do you mean you’re here for me?”

“I think you know what I mean,” Vanessa said with a sly smile, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. "I've made my intentions pretty clear, haven't I?" She took a step closer, her confidence radiating like heat waves.

“I uh, I thought you liked Mike not me,” You responded.

Vanessa chuckled softly, shaking her head. "I never said that," she countered, her lips curving into a wicked grin. She leaned in until her lips were mere inches from your ear. "Besides, Mike is not for you. He's far too predictable, too safe. And trust me, you deserve more."

You couldn’t deny the truth; you were in love with Mike, but it didn’t seem like he was reciprocating your feelings. Now Vanessa was here, and seemingly begging you to be with her, all while exuding a dominating aura.

“And you’re what I deserve?” you teased back, letting yourself be overwhelmed by her presence, yet trying to keep your cool and appear playful.

Vanessa's lips curved into a smirk, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "No, I'm not what you deserve," she said, her voice velvety smooth. "But I'm certainly what you need."

“I can make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

"That's a bold claim," you replied, trying to maintain your composure amidst the storm of emotions brewing inside you. "But what do you get out of it?"

“A taste of you,” Vanessa replied, making you struggle to suppress your blushing as you felt her hot breath against your neck. “Would you let me?”

You swallowed hard, feeling her warm breath tickling your skin. A tangle of excitement and fear twisted in your stomach. "Are you sure?" you asked hesitantly, your heart pounding loudly in your ears.

"Positive," she replied, her voice firm yet inviting. "But bear in mind, there's no going back after this."

You took a deep breath, steeling your resolve. "Okay," you said, your voice barely audible. "Let me taste you too."

With surprising strength, Vanessa pulled you forcefully into the darkened maintenance room, slamming the door shut behind them before pushing you against the wall. Her body pressed against yours, pinning you in place as she devoured your mouth hungrily, tongue wrestling with yours in a fierce dance. Her hands roamed freely downwards, skimming over your abdomen before reaching for your belt buckle.

Meanwhile, your own hands fumbled clumsily at her zipper, determined to reciprocate her advances. Finally, both of you met in the middle, both sets of buttons and clasps coming undone simultaneously. Her panties slipped down her thighs, exposing her wetness to your hungry eyes.

Without breaking the lip lock, Vanessa broke free long enough to whisper, "Do you like what you see?"

“God, you’re so hot.” You said, falling to your knees without a thought.

Vanessa's eyes widened in surprise as you sank to your knees, but she quickly recovered, her grin growing wider. "Good," she hissed, her breath ragged. “Open your mouth for me, baby.”

She stepped back, giving you room to worship her. Your hands trembled slightly as they ran over her silken skin, tracing the curve of her hips, and the dip of her waist. You paused at the evidence of her arousal, drawing in a sharp breath. Your fingers parted her folds slowly, revealing the slick wetness that awaited you. Taking a deep breath, you dove in, your tongue flicking out to taste her sweetness.

She moaned softly, her fingers twisting in your hair, urging you on. "Faster, harder," she urged, her voice hoarse. "Make me come on your tongue, baby."

As you obeyed, licking and sucking at her tender flesh, you couldn't help but wonder - was this worth the risk? Was it worth losing everything else for her taste? Oh, but the way she moaned your name was making you dizzy by her siren voice.

As you continued to please her, Vanessa's moans grew louder, echoing throughout the empty hallway. Her hips rocked against your face, grinding herself against your mouth. "More, baby," she panted between gasps. "Give me more."

You did as she commanded, thrusting your tongue deeper into her core, exploring every crevice of her most intimate parts. Each sound of approval spurred you on, fueling your desire. Your hands cupped her full breasts, kneading and squeezing them roughly, eliciting another moan from her lips.

The rhythm of your tongue matched the pace of your thrusts, creating a synchronized symphony of lustful sounds. Suddenly, her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her muscles tensing up. "Ah! Yes! Oh god, yes!" she cried out, her voice strained with ecstasy.

Finally spent, she collapsed against the wall, panting heavily. "That was... incredible," Vanessa managed to utter between gasps. "Now it's your turn."

Before you had the chance to properly stand up, the noise of the entrance door opening froze you in horror. Slowly turning around you see Mike, standing right there in the doorway.

“Is this where I'm supposed to say ‘How could you?’” Mike replied, catching the two of you standing in what was an obvious compromising position.

“And what I'm supposed to say, ‘it’s not what it looks like?’” you also replied, still trying not to let your embarrassment get the best of you, as you were caught red-handed.

#Not the detention reference #vanessa shelly #vanessa x reader #fnaf vanessa #vanessa afton #vanessa shelly smut #vanessa fnaf #vanessa shelly x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x you #vanessa shelly x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

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demontobee · 8 months

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Parallels between Lord Jim and Good Omens (2)

I have rewatched GO2 at least 10 times now (still counting, obvsly), and every time I notice new easter eggs that emerge from the massive web of intertextuality that Neil Gaiman created for us here.

So today, I wanted to focus on the way Aziraphale came up with the “undercover” name “Jim” for Gabriel. He read it on the spine of a book: Lord Jim.

That book was written by Joseph Conrad (a Polish-British writer with dubious ideas about colonialism) and published in 1900. The plot basically follows the life of a young idealistic seaman called Jim who has to defend himself in a trial that concerns a sinking ship which he and other members of the crew abandoned in a storm, leaving it and the helpless passengers to their fate. The ship did not sink in the end, and he was the only member of the crew who was held accountable for his deeds by stripping him off his naval certificate. The trial is where he meets the narrator of the story, Marlow, who is strangely intrigued by the young man, who seems to be engulfed by guilt and shame over his morally wrong decision to leave the boat. The narrator tries to help Jim to his feet and lands him a job as a post manager at some remote colonial outpost. There he becomes a hero by capturing a local bandit. Later he falls victim to a scheme against him, and a pirate raids a neighbouring community and kills the son of their chief, Jim’s close friend. Jim then goes there, and the chief shoots him as a revenge for his son.

I mean, the most obvious parallel is that Gabriel gets named after Jim. He, too, abandoned his ship (Heaven; and the question here is, did he know it might be a sinking ship as well?) and was put on trial and lost his position as archangel before he came to Aziraphale for help. But that’s not all there is to it.

Let us start with the formal (concerning style and structure) aspects:

narrative structure:

“Marlow has complete control over the story … and he exercises his power in increasingly complicated ways. Time is broken up: in a single paragraph of narration, Marlow will reference the past, the present, and the future. By manipulating the flow of the narrative, Marlow is able to create juxtapositions and contrasts that highlight particular aspects of the story. He is a master at withholding information …” (Source: Sparknotes)

As I have already discussed in another post, this is more or less how narrative structure works in GO, too (S2 maybe more than S1, but this still applies to both). We get minisodes from the past that directly reference and juxtapose situations in the story that takes place in the present. Take, for example, the Job minisode, which gives us information about the development of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship, but we also see how devastating and hard it was for Aziraphale to realise that sometimes he had to lie (or do something considered wrong in heaven) to do the morally right thing. This sequence is juxtaposed with the relative ease he exhibits in the present day when he has to lie to heaven on a regular basis (in this case, about the miracle and hiding Gabriel, which is kind of a big lie, too). The show also plays with our understanding and expectations of how time works, as S2 starts with a scene that takes place “before the beginning,” which undermines dramatic structure as it has been known and accepted since Aristotle. It is also interesting to note that in S1, we have a strong sense of an almighty narrator, since god herself is narrating the whole time and she sure lets us know that she is playing her own ineffable game here. In S2, however, we don’t have a clear narrative voice. This might make it seem like the narration is more neutral or less meddled with, but in reality, it just makes things even less reliable and situations more ambiguous, as we have no single voice to interpret them for us. Someone is definitely “withholding information” here, and I guess we’ll have to wait for S3 to get the full picture.

language/style:

“Marlow constantly ponders the "message"--the meaning of Jim's story. His language is dense with terms like "inscrutable" and "inexplicable," words that denote imprecision and indecipherability, but which also possess a certain quality of uncertainty in themselves, as words. He struggles to name things, and is often reduced to wondering if there even is a meaning to Jim's story and his fascination with it. Sometimes he concludes that the meaning is an "enigma"; sometimes he decides there is no meaning to be found at all. Words are constantly being contested in this novel; at least three major episodes center around the misinterpretation of a single spoken word.” (Source: Sparknotes)

I mean, “inscrutable” and “inexplicable”? Why not just call it “ineffable”? I also love how Crowley seems to wonder about the meaning of things (especially the distinction between “good” and “bad”), as one of the first things we here him say in S2 is something like: “Do you ever ask yourself what’s the point. I mean angels, demons, heaven, hell … it all seems a bit … point … less.” And obviously, the whole show is full of misinterpretations of words (e.g., “what does your exactly mean, exactly? I feel like my exactly and your exactly are different exactlies”), or, as we are all painfully aware, a whole way of communicating with one another (“aim for my mouth, but shoot past my ear”).

Now for some similarities concerning informal (aka content) aspects:

moral balance and “naïve heroism”:

“Even more tortured is the analysis of idealism and heroism that lies at the center of Lord Jim. Jim is a young man who enters the world motivated primarily by fantasies of daring and noble deeds lifted from cheap novels. His ideals break down, however, in the face of real danger; they are, in fact, untenable when applied to any form of reality.” (Source: Sparnotes)

That sounds like both Crowley and Aziraphale in a way. They both set out as naïve idealists, and both of them learn (Crowley earlier and faster that Aziraphale) that their (heavenly) ideals do not hold in the complex reality of life. A lot of what we see in S2 is Aziraphale coming to terms with accepting that doing the “right thing” on earth often involves breaking his heavenly rules and allowing for “shades of grey.”

struggling to comprehend own identity and moral consequences of own actions:

Both the narrator, Marlow, and the protagonist of his tale, Jim, are trying to figure out their identity. Marlow seems to tell the story mainly to kind of make sense of identity itself but also of him personally, while Jim tries to make amends for his morally wrong behaviour and tries to manifest his identity (as a hero) through action.

In GO2, we have a lot of identity struggles and questions of “who am I?”: Jim the amnesiac angel is the most blatantly obvious case, but we also have Aziraphale negotiating his identity constantly, e.g., in the Job episode when he asks “Then what am I?” after having lied to heaven for the first time . And I mean Crowley is just on another level of liminal identity entirely, isn’t he?

As a bonus (and I am probably going overboard here, but well), this is the description of Jim’s death:

“Then with his hand over his lips he fell forward, dead.”

The imagery reminds me of something…ahhh yes:

Feel free to add your thoughts in the tags or comments!

#good omens #good omens s2 #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #crowley #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #neil gaiman #crowley x aziraphale #meta #lord jim #go2 meta #jimmmm short for gabriel #thank you neil gaiman

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whateveryouiguess · 10 months

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idk if you take requests but!! i think reader and miguel getting a pet together would be super cute :> i wanna see mr anger issues calm down for once in his life cause of a cute puppy or something

HIII i’m still deciding if i wanna take requests but. i couldn’t NOT do this. like cmon. hope this does the trick anon 🫶🏼

el perro dinero.

Also known as: Miggy O’ Hara and his inability to tell you no ❤️

Pairing: Miguel O’ Hara x Reader

Word Count: abt 1.5k

Warnings: None :) just lots n lots of fluff, maybe improper grammar on the spanish (im not fluent yet, sorry native speakers. feel free to critique me!!!) Not beta’d, I tried to keep this one gender neutral, I don’t think I used any pronouns but if Y/N throws you off, I apologize :)

Sunday Afternoon.

“Absolutely not.” He didn’t even need a minute to think before the words left his lips.

“Miguel!” You draw out the syllables of his name in a whiny response. It was a decent question, honestly: the two of you had been together for a steady two years, going on three, and having just moved in together, the topic of “next steps” in your relationship was pretty fair game! Miguel had mentioned wanting a family before—very vaguely, but it was something you two had discussed—and it seemed like the present was a good time to make those kind of choices together. Despite his hope for your future together, he had been vehemently against the idea since you first brought it up, but you couldn’t understand why! Maybe he’d had bad experiences in the past, or he just wasn’t that kind of person? Or maybe he had an allergy you’d never heard about?

“Amor, we can not get a dog.” He slices open the tape seal of the box in front of him, leaning his elbows against the countertop as he unpacks it. “We’ve just moved in, rent here is already ludicrous…” he rambles as he unpacks thin stemmed wine glasses from the neatly packed box. You sit across from him at the bar, admiring the view of his messy hair and black wife beater against his amber skin, cheeks rosy from all the back and forth from moving vans. The love of your life—too stubborn to use a dolly, like you suggested—stacking empty boxes on the kitchen floor and using words like “ludicrous” to describe the best idea you’ve ever had. “Neither of us are home often enough to take care of a puppy-“

“We don’t have to get a puppy!” You suggest enthusiastically. He quirks an eyebrow and fights a smile at your excitement. “We’ll adopt a grown dog, maybe we’ll find one who’s already trained. You know, a lot of people forfeit perfectly behaved dogs just because they-“

“Amor.” He walks around the kitchen island to ground your shoulders with two big hands. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words are stolen by the pang in his heart at the disappointment in your eyes. The same eyes he’d spend hours gazing into without a care in the world, hearts full and minds at ease. The hopeful eyes he’d have to let down easy.

“We’re not…Not right now, honey.” His voice is kind and quiet, but to the point. “I’m sorry.” He squeezes your shoulders tightly as you sigh in disappointment. Walking back to his station by the sink, he slides a few glasses into the kitchen cabinet and continues speaking. “Possibly in a few months, if we’re stable enough and we have the time-“

“Really?” Your tone perks up immediately. His back shakes a bit, laughing at your excitement.

“Possibly. It’s possible. Don’t make any plans just yet.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head, walking towards your shared bedroom. “Póngase sus zapatos,” he pulls a light jacket on over his shoulders, sliding a pair of sunglasses onto the neckline of his tank top. “Let’s go find some lunch.”

————————————————————————

Friday Evening.

Since moving in with you, Miguel has quickly grown fond of the ends of his days. Taking his new route to his new home, hopping the steps up to the third floor two at a time. Mind exhausted from a long day at work, heart pulling his body through the hall to you, like a Looney Tune drawn euphorically to a pie in a window. The sound of the key twisting the lock mechanism is like a Pavlov bell, and before he’s even opened the door, he knows the treat of your arms is waiting for him behind it. This time, however, when he swings the mahogany door open, he’s not flooded with the soothing scent of your favorite candle, or pulled into your sweet embrace: he’s greeted with an empty living room, and darkness.

“Amor?” He calls out, toeing off his loafers at the door, placing his jacket over the back of the sofa. “Estás en casa?” He says quieter, padding through the house in search of you. All is quiet in the apartment until he reaches the shallow hall leading to your bedroom. His blood freezes at the faint sound of crying, high pitched and seemingly pained. Bounding to the door, footsteps heavy and shaken, he swings open the bedroom door to find you hunched over on the floor, and he can only imagine the worst has happened. Although, now that he’s closer the sound of the crying, its much more high pitched than he knows your voice to sound. When he hears you mumbling over the crying, he knows he’s severely misunderstood the situation.

“Honey?” he calls quietly. Your whip your neck around and see him standing in the doorway, concerned and disheveled in his work clothes. The sight of your red face kills him, you look as though you’ve been crying. His eyes travel to your lap and finds the source of all the noise, and his tightly knit eyebrows unravel in realization. In your lap sits a small, shivering puppy, whining as you try to wipe its eyes clean with a wet rag.

“I—I didn’t…” you stutter. With the conversation you two had been having a few days prior, you didn’t want it to seem like you’d gone against the decision you both had made . Miguel figured from the size of the pup that he couldn’t have been even a month old, and was almost certainly betrayed on the side of the road somewhere. On the streets at that age, it would’ve either been left for dead or found by someone soft hearted enough to give them a second chance. “He was all alone, he was hurt,” you sniffle as Miguel kneels beside you. “I know you said no, and I’m sorry, but I…” the desperation in your eyes is enough to make him wish he’d never denied you. “I couldn’t just leave him there.” You’ve started to cry, really cry, and even with the stress of the situation, he can’t help but curl his arms around your shoulders and hold you as tightly to him as he can. “I’m really sorry, baby.”

“Hey, no, amor. None of that.” Miguel rubs his palms up and down your arms to soothe you, careful to avoid the sad babe between your legs. “It’s…it’ll be okay. Alright? It’s okay.” He lets go of you and leans back to get a good look at the puppy. He was a little thing, no doubt the runt of his litter, but still a bit fluffy. His fur was matted and dark, the spots you’d wiped clean a few shades of brown lighter than the rest of him. Even with his staunch, no dog policy, the puppy’s floppy ears and pointed nose pulled gently on his heart strings. she watches intently as you siphon water into the little guys mouth, dabbing a drop onto your finger, then letting him lick it off. Miguel couldn’t help but smile at how the little thing preened under your touch, hoisting itself up into the palm of one of your hands, gathering more of your warmth. The love that radiates from your eyes is almost motherly, and he knows it’s love at first sight for you two. Leave it to his lover to help the lonely pup—a helpless wret in their time of need, no home to return to and no means to make anew. Left behind, forgotten, just in need of a little love. Sounds familiar, Miguel thinks to himself. The puppy wanders across your leg towards Miguel’s territory, and as soon as he presses a small paw onto his thigh, a switch is flipped for him, his hand shooting out to help the puppy climb. Mierda. He’s silent as he scoops the baby up with one hand, inspecting it like a broken package. The sweet little eyes peering back at him dismiss the perma-scowl on his face.

“He kinda looks like you, Mig.” You observe humorously, your perception of the strong, frightening man as “cute” still baffling to him. He scoffs out a laugh and sighs, gaze never leaving the puppy wriggling in his hands.

“How much is pet rent?” He says dryly. You snap your head towards him, a new hope awakened in your eyes. He pretends not to see it, smug as always.

“Are we keeping him?” You ask timidly. Miguel sets the dog back down between your legs, it’s stubby little tail wagging ferociously, shaking his entire rear, as if in understanding. Miguel smiles slightly as he repeats himself.

“How much is pet rent?”

THIS WAS FUNNN 🤭🤭 I imagined the puppy to be a norwegian elk hound but if you imagined something else, lmk in the comments!! im curious lol :)

#miguel is 1000% that dad that didn’t want that dog at first but is absolutely smitten within two weeks of having it #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara fanfic #spiderman #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o hara fluff #miguel o’ hara fluff

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