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brokenbeskar · 2 hours ago
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Chapter Four of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x Reader) 
Word Count: 7.8k
Summary: Karga had warned that the two of you would have to work together to catch this bounty, but who knew working together would be so difficult?
Warnings: some canon typical violence, but nothing else! 
A/N: This chapter was a STRUGGLE to write, but I have been so excited for it! I hope my hard work payed off and you all enjoy it!
Sixty thousand credits. Sixty thousand credits. You have to keep repeating it to yourself as you scan through the passing crowd on one of the lower levels of Galactic City. Taking bounties on Coruscant was never easy, and quite honestly it was beyond exhausting. Thousands of city blocks stacked on top of eachother and spanning the entire length of the planet made it that much easier for bounties to blend in and hide. You and the mandalorian had decided to split up to cover more ground, but even between the two of you it could take weeks to finally find your quarry, and that was time you didn’t have. 
So here you were, on a vantage point scanning the streets below you on the west end, looking for any sign of your bounty. Nothing...nothing...nope...still nothing. A lot of the passersby were shady, as to be expected, but not who you're looking for. The lower you got in Galactic City, the more crime ridden and poverty stricken it became, a prime place for spice runners and black market trades. Which is exactly why you were looking here. 
The bounty you’re after, Kargra warned that the two of you would have to work together to catch her, and you know why. Her name was Yanu Nuld. This particular bounty was a renowned thief. She was known for pulling off incredibly risky heists but somehow managing to never get caught. She was incredibly cunning and deceitful. Known for convincing others to help her only to leave them abandoned and easily caught with nothing in return. All of the intel gathered on her was information happily given up from those scorned by her mendacious ways. Above all though, she was incredibly smart, a master evader. The price on her head was only as high as it was because of how many failed attempts there have been made to capture her. 
Yanu was clearly a thrill seeker. Hearing how high stakes her last few heists were, you wonder if she’s getting bored. It was no wonder she was here on Coruscant, there were plenty of valuables to go after, and with the thriving black market beneath your feet, she could easily make more than a few credits in one evening alone. That can’t be why she's here though, no-- she has to be after something bigger. She’s not here for some measly credits and you know it. That would be too easy for her, she needs something more exciting, more risky, more fun. What though? You didn’t intend to find out, just grab her and go as fast as possible. Sixty thousand credits were on the line here, and maker, you needed them. She was just a way to get you one step closer to your new ship. 
As you’re scanning the crowd you notice a familiar, irritating gleam of metal. You huff angrily and activate the commlink in your helmet. The two of you had synced them up before you split up to communicate, but clearly there wasn’t enough of that going on.
“What are you doing here?” You bark out through the comm, and you see him immediately look up to your vantage point as if you had shouted it over the crowd. 
“Looking for the bounty.” He deadpans and it infuriates you, you roll your eyes under your helmet. 
“Stand up at the cantina not work out for you, shiny?” A mocking tone was oozing from your voice before you suddenly changed your demeanor and snapped out at him, “We agreed I would take the west end, and you would take east.” 
“I finished sweeping the east end, she's not there.” 
“Well I don’t need you to double check my work.” you spit out bitterly at him. How he managed to constantly get on your nerves was a skill of its own. You try to push your irritation aside to focus on the bounty you still had zero leads on. “I’m assuming since you’re here you didn’t get anything good from the jeweler?”
There's a long pause on his end before he replies, “I didn’t speak to the jeweler.” He says it slowly, drawing it out. He sounds almost as irritated as you. 
“What do you mean, you didn’t speak to them?” You speak out through your clenched jaw. Your irritation is much more obvious than his, but you can’t help it. 
“You never asked me to.” it’s true, you didn’t, but you thought it should have been obvious when you told him you thought they might have some information. 
“Dank farrik! Fine!” You spit through the comm and jump down onto the dirty street below you, heading off in the direction of the jeweler. “Just keep doing whatever you’re doing. Let me know if you get anything.” You switch off the comm before he can say anything else.
You’re grumbling angrily under your breath as you trudge through the dirty streets. You and the mandalorian had been constantly getting into each other's way, you don’t work well together at all. It’s not like you don’t know how to work with others. Kriff, you got into this profession with a partner, working with someone else should be more natural to you than it would be alone. Something about this mandalorian however, was making this job far more difficult than it already was.
 Since you landed he’s been getting on your nerves. The both of you couldn't agree on anything, you are uncoordinated together, pushing each other away like opposing magnets. At the same time however, you kept getting in each other's way as if you were being drawn together-- like magnets. You would go to question someone, only to find he was already there with the same idea. You would go to search a new area, only to see his damned shiny armor somewhere close by. The both of you even physically collided with each other once rounding the same corner. You were seriously only one more run-in away from locking him back in his ship and finishing this job yourself. 
You pull out your tracking fob and hold it out in front of you to see if you can get anything, but the beeping is still just as steady as it has always been. She must be screwing with you on purpose, running in circles around the same block. At least you know she's still in the area. You keep walking, sweeping the fob in front of you to see if you pick up anything new, but you feel someone watching you. You feel it on the back of your neck, like electricity running through the air. You look to your right where you feel it, and see someone dart into the darkness. 
Pocketing your fob you decide to investigate. 
You step down a couple steps into the dark alley and change the setting on your helmet’s display to look for footprints. Bingo, bright red and clear as day. You follow them with your visor, whoever it was, they were running when you caught sight of them. You can tell based on the spacing of their prints and just how far they went considering you just saw them a minute ago. Walking along with them, you keep your eyes peeled, scanning your surroundings with your visor, looking for anything out of place. You’re just hoping this isn’t a trap. 
You follow them down the dark and damp alleyway, until the footprints your tracking come to a halt. It’s like whoever you were tracking simply disappeared. You look up and around the buildings next to you, whoever it was had clearly taken higher ground. You spot them on the heat signature, crouched on a ledge. 
“Do I have business with you?” You call up to them, letting them know you can definitely see them. 
“Should have expected a mandalorian to find me that easily.” They jump down from their ledge and saunter over a few steps closer to you, but make a point to keep their distance. You can’t exactly get a good look at them, their hooded robes concealing most of their features. 
You can’t help but scoff, “You say that as if that wasn’t the most obvious hiding spot. Too predictable. Now what’s your business with me.” 
“I have...information.” They seem to hesitate with their offer, but it causes you to tilt your helmet up in interest, so they continue, they’re voice dropping in volume, barely above a whisper, “I know the bounty you’re after.” oh now this was interesting. Definitely not what you were expecting, and you have a pretty good feeling it could be a trap, but maybe that's exactly what you needed.
“I’m interested,” You admit, “What can you offer me?” 
“Not so fast, I need something in return--in exchange. I need you to guarantee my safety.” They seem rushed, on edge.
“Your safety? From what?” You tilt your helmet at them quizzically. 
“From her. And--and I want to walk away with my record clean. I don’t want anyone to know I’m involved.” They were definitely panicked, there's an urgency in their voice, a sort of desperation.
“I can’t do anything about your record, but I have no bounty on your head so you're free to leave this planet, I won't stop you. Though I’m curious, why do you need protection from my bounty?” You relax your stance slightly, shifting your weight to one leg, but keep your shoulders square.
“Listen, Yanu...she’s dangerous. I thought I knew what I was doing getting caught up with her, but when I found out there was a mandalorian holding her puck--,” They cut themselves off and shake their head slightly, “look, doesn’t matter, this ended up being more than what I signed up for. She’s acting careless, like she wants to get caught--and I for one, don’t want to end up frozen in carbonite next to her....or worse…” They trail off at the thought of what their fate could be at the hands of a mandalorian, despite you not even really being one. There's no bounty on their head, at least not one that belongs to you, so for all you care you would shoot them without hesitation if they got in your way. And you get the feeling they know it. 
“How’d you know I was after her?” You rest your hands on your belt as you continue to question them. So far their story makes sense, but you’re checking for holes. Any little hint that something doesn't add up. 
“We saw you. Two days ago, maybe three hundred levels up. She knew immediately you were looking for her. ‘only a matter of time,’ she said.” The stranger in front of you shakes their head to themselves before continuing, “I didn’t believe her until I saw you interrogating some shopkeep and I saw your puck light up.” They swallow harshly, hard enough you can hear it, “She told me not to worry about it, and I didn’t...until she changed the plan. Look, what she’s planning is insane, and I want out. I tried talking her out of it, but she won’t budge. I feel like she’s left me no other choice. If she finds out I came to you, she’ll--she’ll kill me.” Their voice cracks at the end and you can tell they’re being sincere. 
They’ve so far only mentioned you though, they must not know about your mandalorian hunting partner. You want to ask, but know better of it. You don’t want to risk giving up any information that you could use to your advantage instead.
“So why did you come to me then?” You tilt your helmet curiously with your question. Truly it made no sense. “Why didn’t you just hitch a ride off this planet as soon as you got the chance? No reason for you to be helping me.” “Well I -- she…it’s--” They struggle immensely trying to explain, and it immediately puts you on high alert. This was it, that hole in their story you were looking for. The confirmation you needed that this was a set up. A trap. 
“Spit it out then.” You punch out the words through your modulator more aggressively than you intend. You hope it’s taken as a warning, a warning that you know exactly what they’re up to. And with the way they snap their gaze to you, you’re sure they get the message. 
“Look, it's not what you think,” They wave a hand dismissively. 
“What is it then?” 
“It’s complicated…” 
“Oh I bet it is. Now tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you here and now, you’re wasting my time.” You move a hand to the blaster in the holster on your thigh.
“Wait hold on! You aren’t listening, I told you it’s not like that--” 
“Well you better start explaining, and quickly, because I’m losing my patience.” 
“I…I--I love her, okay?” They blurt it out in a panic and it takes you by surprise. There was nothing in the galaxy that could have prepared you for that one. Of all the things they could have possibly said, that was definitely not what you were expecting. They hang their head defeatedly, “I love her...but--but she doesn’t--not me. She doesn’t even care about me, I’m nothing more than bantha fodder to her.” They scoff and shake their head, “She was willing to put my life at risk just so she could have a good time…” 
“So you came to me as a sort of...revenge?” You tilt your helmet inquisitively. You’re trying so hard not to let the amusement drip from your voice. This was clearly very serious to them, but this all feels so childish to you. This whole situation was borderline hilarious. 
“Do you want the information or not?” They cross their arms in front of their chest. You beckon them to continue with a slight wave of your hand, and settle both of yours back onto your belt. They give you a determined nod before they start spilling everything. 
“She's going to intercept a trade, some kind of rare crystal--I don’t really know what they are, but I know they’re probably worth more than double the beskar on your shoulders.” “Clearly that's an exaggeration.” You scoff. Beskar, mandalorian iron, was one of the most legendary metals in the galaxy. To imply these “crystals” were worth double? Hearsay. “It’s not. Like I told you, I don’t know a lot, but I guess they were stolen after the fall of the Jedi Temple. I don’t even know where she got the information about the trade, they’re keeping the whole thing incredibly confidential.” The stranger keeps their own voice down, as quiet as they can while they explain this to you. You don’t know much about jedi, honestly you don’t know anything. Whatever these crystals were, they weren’t important to you, but you realize why your bounty has an interest in them, if what your hearing is true. 
You take a step closer to the stranger in front of you, “Tell me everything you know about the trade.” And they do, they spill everything they know. It’s not a lot, but it’s everything you need. 
“Some kind of black market trade to a private client--I don’t know anything about the guy, but that doesn't matter. They’re doing the exchange on the upper levels tomorrow night. Some kind of hotel or something-- it’s big, real fancy. I’ll give you the coordinates. The crystals are in a case. Yanu is planning on intercepting before the case trades hands. I don’t know exactly how she’s planning to pull it off, but you’ll see her. She's...hard to miss.” The stranger trails off before giving you the coordinates, which you punch into your vanbrance so you can find the location later. 
“Thank you.” You nod to them, “You better get going, get off this planet and find somewhere to hang low for awhile.” 
“I plan on it.” They toss back at you and begin to head off in their own direction, before pausing and looking over their shoulder, “Be careful, Yanu is dangerous. Even for a mandalorian.” And with that, they continue on their way without looking back. 
You wait for them to leave, watch them disappear behind a building, and then wait a few seconds more before you activate the comm on your helmet. 
“Hey, shiny. You there?” You call out through the static of the comm. 
“You find something?” His voice rings back to you through the static.
“Yeah. Got some information, bounty’s going to intercept a trade. Some kind of rare crystal or something.” Maker, just repeating this stuff out loud sounds so ridiculous. Maybe you did get conned. 
“Rare crystals? You got that from the jeweler?” He sounds dubious, but intrigued. How were you even going to begin to explain the situation to this tin can.  
“It’s a long story. Rendezvous back at the ship, I’ll fill you in.” 
“Copy.” You hear his end of the comm click off and you begin your trek back to the ship. 
You’re perched up high in the immaculate hotel lobby, somewhere high on one of the various balconies, out of view from the bustling travelers beneath you. To call this a hotel lobby felt...disingenuous. Truly it was something else. Yeah it was the main lobby and lounge for a hotel, but it was unbelievably fancy. Marble, decorated flooring, chandeliers, huge windows, decor unmatched by anything on the lower levels. Large and impressive staircases surrounding both sides of the main desk area, It even sported a small cocktail bar in the lounge area. Staying here alone was a symbol of status, and it showed. 
The patrons below were just as decorated as the impressive area around them. Flashy jewelry and flowing fabrics. It always felt strange, seeing the stark disconnect between classes especially since the fall of the empire, and even more so especially on Coruscant. The glittering and extravagant spectacle of it all, it felt so fake to you. You knew the harsh realities of the galaxy, that no amount of glistening gems or extravagance could cover up. 
“You sure this isn’t a trap?” The mandalorian’s voice crackles over your helmet’s comm. 
“No, but it’s the best chance we got.” You admit. It could very well be a trap, a set up, but that was a risk you were willing to take. Even if this wasn’t a trap, you know she probably knows you're here. 
You couldn’t see your mandalorian hunting partner from where you were, he's perched up somewhere away from you, watching the lounge area through his pulse rifle scope. Where though? You have no idea. you both agreed it would be best if he stayed out of sight, since as far as you knew, your bounty was only aware of you, and only you. If you have even the slightest chance of catching her off guard, you definitely want to use that to your advantage. 
You notice down below a well dressed Pantoran gentleman leaning against a wall. Nothing outwardly paints him as suspicious, but with the way he’s scanning the crowd, and seems to be lingering for no reason catches your attention. Not to mention the fact that you somehow didn’t even notice him walk in. You continue to watch him. He adjusts his clothes, crosses his arms, shifts his weight from one leg to the other, nothing odd or alarming--until you see him fiddle with something on his wrist and hold it up to his face. 
You click a switch on the side of your helmet to zoom in, focusing on him. Oh yeah, he was definitely speaking into a comm unit. You glance down a little lower, and notice the hint of a holster under his jacket, only revealed when the edge of his jacket rides up when he speaks into his wrist. Now he definitely looks suspicious. 
“Hey, you see that Pantoran over there by the window?” You ask over the comm, hoping the mandalorian notices the same thing you do. 
“Yeah. He’s got a friend at the bar.” you look over, and sure enough, another well dressed man is sitting at the bar, speaking into his wrist. Sitting at the bar, but no drink. A pretty big red flag for you. He was much bigger than the one leaning against a wall across the lobby, built, and clearly strong. 
“Extra security, you think?” You ask.
“Probably something like that.” You can hear him shift slightly over the comm, as he adjusts his position. 
“No case though. Might be the buyer.” You know the mandalorian you're working with is probably thinking the same thing. At this point you're just trying to make conversation. Not that the silence bothered you at all. It was just...habit? It’s been  a long time since you worked with anyone else, but your old habits still get kicked up every now and again. When you and your late husband would go on hunts together, there wasn’t a second of silence between the two of you. It definitely made the job a lot more enjoyable, when the conversations weren’t just strategy and business, but they were filled with playful banter and jokes too. You can't help the snort you let out when you remember the dumbest joke he once told you.
“What’s so funny?” The mandalorian’s gruff voice asks through the static. 
“It’s--,” You shake your head lightly and let out another breathy chuckle, “Here, how do you unlock doors on Kashyyyk?” 
“Is that really what your laughing at right---” 
“A woo-kiee. Get it?” You cut him off, and immediately laugh at how ridiculous it is. Hearing his sigh over the comm only makes it that much better. You remember your response being about the same when you heard it for the first time. 
“Hey, pay attention. I got eyes on the case.” he cuts in through your chuckling sternly, and it snaps you back to reality. 
You peer down below you, and there, coming through the entrance. Another well dressed man is striding through, a shining silver case at his side. The man at the bar stands, and the one leaning against the wall, begins to make his stride to meet the one with the case. Bingo. That's the trade. You’re searching all over for your bounty, but you don’t see her anywhere. Did she abandon her heist? Did she decide it wasn’t worth it with you after her? Her partner, the one you met in the alley yesterday, told you she would be hard to miss, so why is it you’re not seeing her? The closer together the two men get to exchanging the case the faster your thoughts are racing. 
Then suddenly they all come to a halt when a deafening blaster shot zips through the crowd from seemingly nowhere, immediately there are panicked screams and the man holding the case drops to the ground in an instant. 
Suddenly, it’s chaos. 
Patrons of the hotel lobby are scrambling all over, every which way, screams echoing through the shimmering entryway as disorder reigns beneath you. Did...did the mandalorian just shoot him? 
“What the kriff are you doing?!” You shout over the comm, while you quickly scramble to jump over the banister of the balcony you’re on. You aren’t sure why your first instinct is to go for the case, but it is. You’re rushing down to the ground level, trying not to get caught up in the swarm of panicked people surrounding you. 
“Wasn’t me.” You hear the shuffle over the comm as he starts to make his move. Well if it wasn’t him then that must mean--she was here.
You keep pushing your way through the crowd the best you can, picking up the pace at the realization that your bounty is close-- when another blast rings through the air. You hear a thud, and see the man who was at the bar earlier on the floor, face down. Between people, you barely catch sight of the silver case lying on the floor next to him. You get shoved harshly from someone on your left, it knocks you off balance for just a second, and when you get your footing back, you finally see her. 
It's quick, she darts in to grab the case, picking it up off the floor without a break in her step. And then she's sprinting. You immediately start to sprint after her, aggressively shoving anyone out of your way as you chase her. Luckily she's easy to spot, her partner was right, she's hard to miss. Her bright pink skin, fiery red hair, and even brighter jumpsuit stood out easily in the crowd. 
“She’s on the move!” You struggle to get the words out as you fight through the sea of people all swarming to escape the turmoil. There's a break in the crowd, and you use it as an opportunity to close as much space between you and her as possible. She glances back at you over her shoulder and gives you a smirk, before she whips out her blaster and fires twice at you. 
Sparks erupt as it hits you once in the chest, and again in the shoulder, the brutal force of it causes you to lose your footing and stumble. The beskar protects you, but the impact is still hard and painful. You quickly try to shake it off and continue on your pursuit, the adrenaline from the chase making the pain dull quicker than it would otherwise, but then another shot, in the same shoulder, combined with someone colliding into you at the same time, and you fall to the ground with a rough grunt through your helmet. You can’t see anything but strangers’ feet passing by you, kriff you need to get it together, and quickly. You cannot let her escape. The shock from the blast still rings through your whole arm, your fingers are tingly and numb, pins and needles stabbing into you while you try to pick yourself off the ground as quickly as you can. You try to ignore it but--maker, the sharpness radiating from it was serious. 
You hear another blast just as you get to your feet, immediately followed by the loud crash of glass shattering. You look up ahead of you just in time to watch your bounty jump through the now shattered window, as glass continues to fall around her and all over the lobby. Light catches every tiny shard causing it to glitter as if it were part of the expensive decor. You rush your way over to the destroyed window and peer down, to watch as she takes off in a speeder, case in hand. 
“Dank farrik!,” you shout out through clenched teeth, and angrily pound your fist into the edge of the window. You drop down from the open window onto the balcony beneath you with an aggressive THUNK. “She got away, she's heading towards the port on a speeder.” 
“I’m on it.” Is all he says back to you. You’re about to ask for an explanation, but you don’t end up needing to, because you see him soar into that direction. The lights from the city reflect off his armour as he bolts through the air with his rising phoenix. Well, that definitely wasn’t fair.
 You’re desperately trying to come up with a plan, there's no way you can catch up to her in time on foot-- 
But then, you have the most stupid, most crazy, most riduclous idea you think you have ever come up with. 
You look over the railing of the balcony and take a deep breath. Fuck, you were really going to do this weren’t you? 
You hold your breath when you jump off, your heart jumping to your throat, as you fall through the air.
 You roughly catch onto the side of a speeder passing underneath you, and it dips dramatically with your weight. The person driving makes a loud noise in distress and you fear your going to pull the whole thing right out of the air. Your grip is slipping from your left hand as you struggle to keep hold, your feet dangling in the air below you. Speeders are zipping past you, beeping loudly as they pass your disruption. You’re terrified you're going to fall.
This was it. This was by far the dumbest thing you could have possibly done. 
“Sixty thousand credits...sixty thousand credits...sixty thousand kriffing! credits!” You’re repeating the amount over and over to yourself through gritted teeth as you attempt to haul yourself up over the side of the speeder. You get one arm hooked firmly over the side of the passenger door, and you're struggling to pull your legs up, when the driver shouts at you in some foreign language you don't understand. They swerve viciously to the right and the sudden shift in force causes you to slip, smacking the bottom of your helmet against the side of the door. 
“Cut that out!” You shout angrily at them and you attempt to pull yourself up again, ignoring them as they continue to shout at you panicked and angry. They jerk the speeder again, even harsher this time, and you get whipped back against the side of it, causing you to lose grip in your left hand and let go of the side of it. Now you’re barely hanging on with one hand, struggling to keep your grip while you dangle in the air as the driver speeds up and continues to veer dramatically to shake you off. Other neighboring speeders beep loudly and swerve dangerously close to your flailing limbs, the rush of air from them passing by only making holding on that much more difficult. If you don’t fall off this thing, you’re definitely getting hit by a different one. 
One more rough jolt from the diver and your gloved hand can’t hold on any longer. Wind rushes from your lungs as you start to fall, but you quickly hit the whipcord thrower on your vambrace, and a long length of fibercord shoots out above you, just barely grappling onto the bottom of the speeder you just fell from. The driver yells loudly as the whole speeder tips sharply with the sudden yank of your cord. The sudden halt from the cord pulling taut, yanks you aggressively, and combined with the weight of your beskar helmet, sends a sharp pain through your neck and makes you dizzy. 
You shake your head, and try to straighten up, gripping the fibercord with both hands, only to be met head on with blinding headlights from an oncoming speeder. Your breath catches in your throat as you brace for the oncoming impact, the blaring beep ringing through your helmet--but the speeder manages to swerve away from you just in the nick of time, causing your fibercord to sway, swinging you along with it as your grip on for dear life.
You clench your jaw tight as you haul yourself up, climbing the fibercord attached to your wrist, slowly reeling yourself closer and closer to the speeder above you. Some bounty hunter you were. The mandalorian probably had no trouble flying off after your bounty with his jetpack, and here you were swinging wildly from some poor soul’s speeder like an absolute fool. 
You continue to haul your way up until you get to the end of your fibercord, and grab back onto the side of the speeder, wasting no time to haul yourself up and over the side of it before there's any further mishaps. The diver continues to yell at you loudly in their forien language, fear lining every inch of it. You grunt as you finally make it into the passenger’s seat, and they start shouting at you louder, growing more and more desperate to shoo you off.
“Let me drive.” You gruff out, ignoring what you assume to be their pleas. Only, they don't move, just continue to shout at you, and honestly you’re getting irritated. You’ve wasted enough time dealing with this, you need to catch up to the mandalorian and your bounty--quickly. 
You pull out your blaster and point it at them. The driver shuts their mouth immediately at the sight of the blaster and you can see them gulp harshly. “Move...Let. me. drive.” You enunciate every word, dropping your voice to a threatening level. They make a small noise of distress before nodding once. Good, they understand basic. Or at the very least, they understand the blaster. You grab onto the steering controls with one hand and you awkwardly and unceremoniously trade places with the driver. 
“Hold on tight.” you shout over to your unwilling passenger. The second you get a firm hold of the controls, you immediately accelerate, speeding up as fast as the small civilian speeder would go. You can hear the driver next to you muttering what you assume to be prayers under their breath, while they clutch to their seat with all of their strength. They gasp and cry out every time you make a risky maneuver. You're pretty sure you break every flying law Coruscant has, as you zip through lanes of traffic, cutting through with no regard to anyone else flying around you. The aggravated beeps of other drivers fall on deaf ears. You can’t be bothered, you need to catch up. 
You see the mandalorian first, following close behind the bounty, dodging the occasional blaster fire she shoots out blindly at him. She's heading right for the dock, she must have a ship lined up and ready to go. Maybe if you’re quick enough you can cut her off from the front. The mandalorian was already right behind her, it was the perfect plan. There's no way she could escape if you pull this off. You quickly veer the speeder to the side and make your way to the opposite side of the dock, picking up as much speed as you can. 
The driver in your passenger seat screams as you come barreling down towards the platform of the dock without slowing down. You pull up tight on the controls and level out the best you can, scraping the bottom of the speeder as you slide along the platform. Sparks fly around you, before you come to a sharp halt. You immediately jump out over the side, and start sprinting in the direction of your bounty without a word to the driver. 
You can’t see your bounty yet, or the mandalorian for that matter, there's too much clutter along the platform. Crates, supply lifts, workers, and ships are scattered all over, but you know what direction she was heading, so you don’t stop running. Picking up as much speed as you possibly can, blaster in hand, you’re ready. You will not let anything stand in your way. 
There was no way she was going to escape. 
You hear blaster fire to your left, and see worker droids fleeing the area. You round a corner around a large stack of supply crates when you finally catch sight of her in a wide open landing area. Her neon jumpsuit makes her easy to spot from the rest of the clutter. She doesn’t seem to notice you as she continues sprinting towards what you assume to be her ship, case still in hand, firing behind her at what you can only expect to be your mandalorian hunting partner.
This was it, this was your chance. Your blood is rushing in your ears, you’re locked onto her, the only thing you’re focused on as you continue to barrel towards her. She was close enough, you could catch her by surprise and tackle her to the ground, and the mandalorian could catch up to support. No mistakes--no hesitation--you have to go for it--
But as soon as you take the leap--
Your vision goes black, a deafening ring goes echoing through your helmet that shifts into a horrible, loud, and awful white noise. 
Then, a pain. An absolutely excruciating, sharp, pounding pain, surrounding your entire head. The pressure feels unbearable, the ache searing behind your eyes. Your wincing at the pain only causing it to grow. 
You groan gruffly as things slowly come back to you one at a time. You flex your fingers and find them pressed against some kind of metal beneath you--you were facedown on the ground. How did you end up on the ground? You go to lift yourself up, but your vision is blurry and fading in and out. You manage to sit up slightly, and it takes you a minute to realize he's shouting at you. 
“Get up! She’s getting away, we gotta get back to the ship.” He grabs you by your arm and roughly helps you to your feet. But? You’re so confused, what just happened? Your head is still pounding, and you feel like you could fall over any second, but you try your best to keep steady. 
“Wh-...what happened?” You barely manage to get the words out as the both of you start to run towards your ship. There’s no way it was the quarry...was it? She wasn’t even looking at you, she didn’t even see you. Right? 
“You ran into my line of fire, now keep up or we’ll lose her!” he shouts over his shoulder to you, over the noise of the bustling dock. Wait...ran into his line of fire? The realization hits you like a ton of duracrete. 
“You kriffing shot me?!” The anger building in your chest sobers you up almost instantly. This idiot actually shot you! You would have had the bounty, she was right there. You practically had her in your grasp, but this absolute, bantha brained--bucket headed---fool, let her get away because he SHOT YOU in the back of the head. 
“You jumped in my line of fire.” He snaps back angrily at you. He sounds just as furious as you are. Not sure why--he's not the one that got shot in the back of the head. 
“You idiot! You’re lucky I'm wearing beskar, you could have killed me!” You’re shouting only increasing in both volume and fury as the two of you make it to the ship. The mandalorian hits a control on his vambrace to lower the ramp as you approach. 
“No, I think you’re lucky you’re wearing beskar.” He challenges, as he quickly makes his way up the ramp and through the hull. Oh you’re gonna kill him. Snap his neck and grab the bounty yourself. 
“Are you really that dim?!” You stomp through the hull right behind him, shouting up the ladder as he climbs to get to the cockpit, “Do you not look where you’re shooting? I can’t believe my bounty is getting away, because you shot me! Like a dumbass!” You grip the rungs of the ladder with such force and you stomp your way up, pure resentment filling every single movement as you make it up to the cockpit, “You kriffing moof milker!” 
He’s ignoring you now. Slamming down buttons and initiating take off as quickly as he can in hopes of catching up to the bounty as you continue to sling insults at him. You angrily sit in the copilot’s seat and buckle in as the ship begins to ascend. 
“I nearly had her! You tin-headed moron!” Despite the quietness inside the ship compared to the dock outside, you’re still shouting at him just as loud. Your irritation for this man is at an all time high, and that's saying something considering how often he seems to bring you to the edge of murder on the daily. All of the times he had gotten in your way this entire hunt, all of the times you felt like he was slowing you down, all of the times you felt like you were better off doing things yourself, and now this? Ohhh you hate him. You cannot wait to capture this bounty, collect your reward, and be on your way. You relish the day you get to turn away and never see this shiny mandalorian ever again.
The ship jerks roughly as the mandalorian rushes the ship through the air, twisting and turning wildly to avoid colliding with the heavy air traffic of Coruscant. Struggling to catch up with your bounty’s ship as it barrels towards the atmosphere. Every rough jolt of the ship only feeds into your seething rage. 
“Kriff! Did a wampa teach you to fly? Get it together, dumbass!”  He continues to ignore you as he flies, like he can’t even hear you, and maker, it pisses you off. The two of you are gaining on the bounty’s ship, quickly closing the distance between her ship and yours. She’s barely managing to dodge around other ships making their way through air traffic, before  it looks like she's going to directly collide with one. She doesn’t slow down and she accelerates towards it, until she fires. Blasting right through the ship and flying through the smoke and debris. 
The mandalorian tries his best to swerve out of the way of oncoming debris, jerking roughly to one side, which sends you slamming into the side console despite your seatbelt, but a large chunk still collides with the side of the ship. It’s like deja-vu when the ship gets knocked over in air, the rough shaking and awful clang of metal on metal, alarms blaring deafeningly, reminding you of your wreck nearly a week ago.
“IDIOT!” You shriek over blaring alarms as the mandalorian struggles to get the ship to straighten back out in the air. “Are you trying to kill us?! First you shoot me, and now you’re trying to get us stranded on Coruscant! Do you know how much repairs cost on this maker forsaken planet?!” The ship is rattling violently as he attempts to break through the atmosphere after the quarry, and you’re not sure you’re going to make it. “How did I end up stuck working a job with such a blurg-brained-no-good discount droid?!” You have to shout even louder to even be slightly audible over the blaring alarms, and brutal clunking and rattling of the ship, as she struggles and groans to break the atmosphere. 
You are almost positive the whole thing is going to come apart before you can make it into open space, but much to your surprise, the ship manages to stay together and make it through the atmosphere--just in time to watch your bounty jump into hyperspace. The stretch and blink of her ship disappearing is the final blow to your already shattered mood. 
“Farrik!” You shout and slam your fist into your armrest. You turn to face the mandalorian next to you, with every intention of flinging more insults his way, when you see him furiously flicking controls on the pain panel. There’s no way--he's not actually planning on trying to make the jump is he? This ship is on the verge of falling apart, you won’t make it. This whole ship will be ripped to shreds with you still in it. 
“What are you doing?! We won’t make it! You’re gonna kill us!” Your shouts fall on deaf ears, with the way he’s ignoring you it’s like you haven't said anything at all, like you aren’t even there. You watch in horror as he tightly takes hold of the controls and pulls back, forcing the ship to make the jump. You hold your breath, and the ship jolts and rattles violently, as stars start to smear past the cockpit viewport. Ear-splitting alarms still echoing throughout the ship, as you somehow make your way into hyperspace-- 
That is until you’re being ripped right back out. The whole ship jerks forward with such force that both you and the mandalorian end up colliding with the control panel with an accompanying grunt. You hear a bunch of things shift in the ship's hull and you pray to the maker the kid is okay in there. You come to a sudden halt and everything in the ship powers down, until you are left floating, sitting in the cockpit in complete darkness, minus a few red emergency lights. There's a slow whirr of all the ship's machinery powering down, until there's nothing. Complete silence fills the cockpit. 
“You…,” You start to break the silence, starting off quietly, barely above a murmur, until you gradually raise your volume back to an aggravated yell, “You absolute MORON! Bantha fodder! Moof-milking asshole!” 
He says nothing, continues to ignore you as if you don’t even exist as he slowly gets up from the pilots seat and goes to open a panel in the back of the cockpit. 
You murmur to yourself again, pressing one of your hands to the front of your visor in pure exasperation,“Di’kut…,” You shake your head, before turning to shout at him again, “Di’kutla!” The mandalorian flinches slightly, so subtly you think your eyes might be playing tricks on you in the dark. Oh, but that fuels you, all it took was that slight movement, and you know that must have struck him differently. 
You’re not fluent in Mando’a by any means, but you know what you learned from your late husband. And insults were his favorite. They were the first thing you learned, and the thing you’re most familiar with. And now that you know those might actually affect the idiot you're working with? You start throwing out every insult you know, “Utreekov shabiir!” Empty headed screw up, “Gar mirsh solus!” you’re a dumbass, “Di’kut!” Idiot. You say each one with such a passion, because maker knows you mean it. 
After messing with the control panel, the lights come back on, and you hear the low hum of machinery powering back up. He doesn’t acknowledge you as he walks back over to his seat and starts flicking switches to power up the ships thrusters. 
“We’re going to have to stop on the next closest planet for repairs.” He finally speaks up, but it's your turn to ignore him. You’re furious, this was the worst hunting experience you have ever had, and it was all his fault. Your bounty was long gone by now, probably halfway across the galaxy. All that time on Coruscant? Wasted. He doesn’t say anything when he gets up again and leaves you alone in the cockpit, probably to go check on the kid. 
You sit there alone angrily staring out as the ship slowly crawls its way along the stars. Seething in your own frustration. At this point, you don’t know if you’ll be able to make it to the next closest planet without killing him first. You hate him, you absolutely hate that shiny, tin-brained, fool of a mandalorian.  *** Previous - MASTER - Next (Coming soon!)
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nerdyfangirl67 · 3 hours ago
Are You Going to Kiss Me or Not - Criminal Minds Reader Insert
Pairing: Hotch x fem!reader
Word count: 1660
Warnings: mild language, slightly steamy kiss scene
Reader is done waiting around for one Aaron Hotchner to decide whether or not he is interested.
A/N: This came to me one day on my way to work, after listening to the Thompson Square song “Are You Gonna Kiss Me or Not”. Since this fic is inspired by the song, it will be related, in some ways, to the song’s lyrics. I admit, it did get away from me and I’m not entirely sure how much I like the middle part. I hope y’all enjoy it regardless! Next up is a POTO work, so stay tuned for that :)
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The words start to blur across the page as you try to read the document, again, for the third time. And just like before, a couple of sentences in your attention wanders from the page to the large window of Aaron’s office. Your eyes immediately find him where he is hunched over his desk, his hand moving furiously as he burns through the stack of paperwork taking up his desktop. You were glad you were the last one in the bullpen and no one was there to witness your hopelessly longing stares you had been sending Aaron’s way. 
“Screw it.” You murmur, pushing away from your desk before striding towards Aaron’s office. You knock hard twice and wait for him to call you in. Once he does, you push open the wooden door and take a few steps into the office. You watch as Aaron finishes scrawling out something on the paper in front of him before he lifts his head. 
“Y/L/N?” He asks in surprise. “What are you still doing here?”
You shrug your shoulders, not really sure yourself why you had stayed hours after leaving time to ‘work’ on paperwork. Deep down though, you knew it was because you hadn’t wanted to leave Aaron to another long night of paperwork. “I could ask you the same thing.” You quip back, causing an almost unnoticeable lift in one of his eyebrows as he gives you a look.
The room is quiet for a moment, the two of you staring into each other’s eyes. You’re saying more with your eyes than you had ever said out loud to him, showing him how you truly felt. His brown eyes were filled with something akin to longing and you had to fight the urge to take his face in your hands and kiss him. You break eye contact as you make your way to one of the chairs in his office. 
“I was thinking of calling it a night and thought maybe you might want to do the same.” You pause before quickly adding, “Or maybe you’d want to get a drink together.” You hope that despite the hour, he would feel as desperate to spend time with you as you were to spend time with him. 
“I don’t think that is such a good idea.” He answers, his eyes only meeting yours briefly before he looks out the window overlooking the bullpen. 
“Some other time then.” You say, feeling a rush of disappointment as he turned down your offer. 
His eyes meet yours now as he says, “I don’t think that any time would be good.” 
“Oh, well whenever you want to get a drink with a friend, just let me know.” You say, somewhat dejectedly, not sure why he was being so standoff-ish. “You’re a good friend.” You add quietly.
“I think you and I both know that that isn’t what this is.” He responds. “And I think that you and I also know that whatever this is, it can’t happen.” You open your mouth to argue otherwise, despite the fact that what he was saying was true, but he cuts you off.
“Good night Agent Y/L/N.” His voice has a biting edge to it as he returns to his paperwork, effectively ending the conversation. His apparent rejection has your heart seizing in your chest and your throat tightening against the rising sob in your chest. You turn and run out of his office, only stopping in the bullpen to grab your jacket and purse, not wanting Aaron to see you cry, especially when it was over him.
The drive home passes in a blur as you try to keep the falling tears from blocking your vision. You somehow make it back to your apartment without getting into an accident. You tiredly unlock your apartment, dropping your purse and jacket by the door before locking it back up. You don’t even have it in you to get ready for bed, instead opting to just take off your shoes and crawl into bed. You don’t get much sleep that night, the stress and anxiety of possibly having ruined your relationship with Aaron weighing down on you. When your alarm goes off the next morning, you know that there is no way you were going to be able to make it through work, let alone face Aaron after what happened last night. You send Penelope a quick text saying you weren’t feeling well and would be staying home. 
Later that evening, after a day of feeling sorry for yourself, you are lying on the couch, listening to some random podcast that has been playing on the radio, when a knock sounds on your apartment door. You let out a heavy sigh as you get up, not really excited by the idea that someone was at your door at this time of night. You open the door, ready to tell off whoever it was, but all words leave your mouth when you see that one Aaron Hotchner was standing in your doorway.
His eyes meet yours briefly before they scan over your body, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He wordlessly steps past you to the inside of your apartment, his hand catching yours as he passes you, a finger straying to caress your wrist. You slowly close the door, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall and the emotions that were rising to the surface before turning your attention to him. You watch him, watching you, for a long time, taking in the smallest details of his appearance; his dark hair, slightly disheveled, his white dress shirt without his characteristic tie and the top few buttons undone, and a tired expression on his face. 
You couldn’t take the silence any longer. “Aaron Hotchner, are you going to kiss me or not?” You burst out, hands on your hips as you focus your gaze on him. He didn’t say anything as he continues to stare at you, his dark brown eyes boring into yours. His silence infuriates you further and causes you to throw your hands up in the air in exasperation. 
“Damnit Aaron.” It wasn’t often that you used solely his first name, only doing so when a situation caused you to be enraged or terrified, and you felt a little of both at the moment. You were so upset at his apparent disinterest in what you were saying, what you were asking of him. And you were terrified that it meant he didn’t feel the same for you. 
“I like you a lot. In fact ... I might actually be in love with you.” It came spilling out, everything that you had been keeping to yourself for months and you couldn’t stop yourself once you’d started. “I’ve felt this way for a while, a long while. And I think you know, or at least a part of you does.” You pause, wondering if maybe you had been reading too much into the longing looks and the lingering ‘accidental’ touches, but you decide since you had gone this far, you wouldn’t back out now. 
“Aaron, I’m not going to wait around forever for you to decide.” You soften your voice, pausing for a long moment to let what you said sink in, before you ask him again. “So, are you going to kiss me or not?” He is moving before you even finish talking, reaching you in only a matter of steps. His large, rough hands come to rest on either side of your face, cupping your face in a gentle manner that contrasted heavily to the urgency in his movements. He brings your face up to his, bending until he is able to reach your lips. 
The kiss is soft, almost tentative, as if Aaron isn’t quite sure of what he was doing himself, as if he was going to pull away at any moment. You kiss him back fervently, worried that he was going to back away. You find yourself getting lost in the feeling of his hands on your face and his body brushing up against yours, the euphoria you feel over finally getting to kiss him flooding through your body. 
You are the one to finally pull back, your need for air overcoming your want to kiss him. He rests his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as the two of you catch your breath. “That was...” You murmur, a languid smile growing on your face. You catch a glimpse of the mischievous spark in his eyes as he mumbles out an incoherent reply, right before he seizes your lips with his. 
Where the first kiss had been safe and reserved, this one was passionate and frenzied. In the heat of the moment, Aaron backs you up against the wall of the living room in your apartment and his hands are everywhere; on your face, your hips, in your hair, sliding down your back. He breaks off the kiss before resting his forehead against yours. 
“I’ve waited years to do that.” He whispers, his voice rough with need. “And it was better than I ever could have imagined.” His soft brown eyes, twinkling with emotion, meet yours. 
“You better get used to it, Hotchner.” You say, a surge of confidence washing over you. “Because I’m definitely going to do that again.” You press a light kiss on his lips before wrapping your arms around his waist in a tight hug. His strong arms bring you infinitesimally closer, one of his hands coming to tuck your head in against his chest. “Good.” He murmurs his warm breath fanning across your neck. “I look forward to it.”
His words cause a smile to grow on your face as you relish in, finally, being able to feel his arms around you. You were certainly glad you finally decided to ask Aaron Hotchner if he was going to kiss you because it clearly paid off.
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rodrikstark · 5 hours ago
TORRES AND FALL. TORRES AND FALL. 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 Congrats on 900!! Well deserved! 💕 (-@tlcwrites)
joaquin torres x reader (fluff)
a/n: joaquin my precious cozy boy 💕💕 and thank you!!! i appreciate all the support you've shown for my writing it's very flsjkfsdlkj 😫💕
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every year—stupidly early—joaquin shakes you awake, already fully dressed and eager to drag you to the orchard many miles out of town
whispering that the early bird gets the best apples
which, you remind him, isn't a thing
you're dozing off when you arrive at your destination, whining at joaquin when he opens your car door, exposing you to the cold as he unbuckles your seatbelt
he buys a hot cider for you to sip before nudging you into the endless rows of greenery
all of it beautiful and calm under pale morning sunlight
joaquin sneaking long, smiling kisses or playfully pinching your butt whenever the coast is clear
he repeatedly offers to carry the basket, but you refuse
you like watching him
when he’s in that soft blue flannel and knit hat, his dark curls sticking out the front
and he’s cheesing at you from up on his tip-toes, all blushy from the cool breeze
you’re an absolute goner, and you know you'd get up at 5:30am again, or feel your arms strain with the weight of two dozen apples, or really whatever
he just has to ask, and the answer's yes.
— — —
part of my 900 follower celebration :)
— — —
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rosescries · 5 hours ago
(WARNING!! There's a lot of emotional and mental abuse and past major physical abuse mentioned, in this story. If you're sensitive to this type of thing, please be cautious) AU Sans and Papyrus X Reader At first, it seemed like a dream come true when your old friend offered to let you live with her and her.... friends in their big ole house during college. For a small amount of rent of course, it was the cheapest option by far. But.... then... you started seeing behind the curtain..... ..... And you really didn't like what you saw.....
Chapter 44 is up! Enjoy!
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besotted-eros · 6 hours ago
Obsessed!Eren Headcanons+
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Genre: SFW Headcanons + NSFW scene under cut
Summary: Eren being helplessly in love with you, and the night where he could show you just how bad.
Content: Bit of toxic jealousy, obsessive thoughts, losing virginity, romance,established relationship,oral (female receiving), unprotected sex
AN: Take some fluff, take some angst, take some smut and don't say I don't feed you
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Eren loves so deeply, so passionately, so possessively. From the moment his heart decides on you, you are twisted in him. Yours is the first name on his lips in the morning, whether he wakes up beside you, or in a barracks beside Armin. Or in a jail cell alone. He thinks of you obsessively, weaving you into everything he does.
He used to follow you, sorting his schedule by yours. You would find him by your door, by the table you liked to read at, waiting for you expectantly.
It's almost scary sometimes. He makes your breath falter with his intensity, his need for you. You know he means it that he'll go mad if he ever loses you.
He keeps a note you wrote him in the inner pocket of his jacket. It doesn't say much, a quick entreatment to sleep and eat, your name signed with love. When he salutes his fist rests over it. He pledges to more than the scouts. It remains there long after his last salute.
He steals your hair ties, often reaching up to touch his hair when your absence gets too much. When his hair is down, falling below his shoulders like a chestnut curtain, he keeps it around his wrist. When he loses himself in the fog of memories that don't belong to him, he snaps it. It reminds him of the way you'd tap the back of his hand, pulling him back into the world of the living. You are his anchor.
He refuses to keep his hands off you in public, even if it gets him in trouble. No amount of scolding from Levi will make him stop touching your waist as you pass by during training, or pulling you in for a kiss before zipping away. Your friends become use to it, the way Eren will pull you against him when you sit together, or move you into his lap. His hands will rest on your hips, rub your shoulders. But he loves holding your hand above all. It's the way the world knows you are tied. Bound.
There are only a few people allowed to touch you. Mikasa, Armin. Sasha on good days. One time Jean attempted to throw a casual arm around you as you spoke, and was quickly thrown to the ground. Yes, Eren and Jean fought. But this time was different. Eren spat in his face, baring his teeth as he delivering a bone crunching punch. "Don't. Fucking. Touch her." He growled, sounding more animal than man. He never apologised for that. You were careful to keep your space from other men too.
When you're apart he is hollow. Listless. He imagines what you're doing, if you're safe. If you're missing him. He pictures you in trouble without him, and it stirs him into action, to find you faster. To wrap you in his arms, the only place you'll ever truly be safe.
When you reunite, it brings him to tears. They quiver in the corners of his verdant eyes as he tenderly cradles you, large hands stroking through your hair. He buries his face in you so you won't see them. And he says your name. Over and over. Like a chant. Like a prayer. Like a thank you.
There is one time that those tears fall. It is when he takes you, when he gives himself to you.
The evening had been perfect, ignoring the upcoming trip to Marley that weighed heavily on all minds. You didn't want to think about that, instead focusing on the spiced wine that Levi had quietly pushed into your hands while Hange grinned from behind him. And the way Eren traced circles on your knee, his normal stoic face softened into a half smile.
You snuck away from your friends, leaving Connie and Sasha bellowing a war song while Mikasa tried to force Sasha's shirt back on. You had tapped his wrist, and soon you were out of the mess hall, holding onto each other as you stumbled into the moonlight. You kissed, soft and repeated, your lips unbearably supple under his. Eren wondered if the butterflies would ever fade as your head leaned against his shoulder. He never wanted them to. He wanted to love you like he was free falling from a wall, with his heart in his throat and life bursting from every pore.
Soon you found yourself at the door to the room you shared with Mikasa and Sasha. This is where you would usually part, with him kissing your forehead goodnight. He would quell his thoughts of you in the shower later, your name hot on his tongue as the cool water cascaded over his firm body.
But this time you pulled him in.
When he laid you on the bed, your soft hair splayed across the over the pillow like a sunburst, his heart stopped. He had seen this before. He had dreamt it. There was no god to Eren, no angels. But in that moment he knew he had found someone to worship.
But nothing could have prepared him for how it felt. Lips meeting like crashing waves, the soft gasps that left your throat as his hands found parts of you no one else would ever touch. He wanted to run his fingers across every inch, to discover you like a new world. Here, the dip of your hips. There they smooth into your legs, here into your ass where the flesh was soft and pliable under his fingers. His thumb brushed across your lips, and when you took into your mouth, tongue tracing the pad of it, he groaned.
He could have ruined you right then and there. But he held back.
Eren memorized you, the feel of your chest against his and the way you kissed his collarbone until it was a field of blooming bruises. Tomorrow he would wear his shirt unbuttoned, wearing your love like a medal. He returned the favour in tenfold, leaving blossoms of soft purple across your neck. They were rewards for every time you touched him. How good it felt. Eren had never felt this good. Soon your chest was littered with them, his mouth hot and desperate on your breasts. Here he seemed to say. I have touched you here, and here. I loved you there, and there.
You spoke his name into the night like a prayer. The want in it, the need of him. It twisted his stomach into a rosary as he held your face and kissed you like a blessing. He liked how your mouth formed him, called him forth into the world. He wanted more of that.
So he kissed his way down, teeth sneaking out every once in a while to nip at your supple skin. You found where you wanted him most, where you throbbed with want. You were so delicate under his fingers as he dipped them into you, walls fluttering as your toes curled. Your hands found his hair, encouraging him further as his tongue slid against your clit, making you buck.
He could do this to you. He could make you putty under his fingers. This strong, demanding woman who slayed those who threatened her, reduced to whimpering his name.
His. Eren was making you his. He was defiling you in the softest of ways, pressing your legs open, your slick slit parting for him. He dragged his tongue up, down, up again to circle your throbbing clit. When you looked down at him, his eyes were glazed green glass, your wetness making his lips shine. He pulled his fingers out, holding the soaked fingers towards you. Obediently you took them into your mouth, and he gasped against your warmth, sucking at your clit in response and making you throw your head back. Your throat exposed, vulnerable and ridden with angry bruises.
He couldn't handle it. His shaft was hard against the bed as he pressed into it, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. And then you pulled up, tugging his long hair. You licked yourself off his lips, tasting how you coated his tongue. Your legs were still spread, exposed for him. Eren angled himself, his dripping head aligned with your wet entrance, while he kissed his love into you.
"Please," you asked, it was all Eren needed.
And then you were connected. His fingers found yours, and you held tightly to his hand as hips rocked against yours. Your eyes were closed, pinched tightly at the sensation of pleasure and pain radiating from the warmth between your legs. He was big. He was so big.
Eren whispered your name.
"Look at me. Look at me while we do this." He murmured, his nose tracing your cheek as he peppered soft kisses on your jaw.
You did, meeting his green gaze. His mouth opened, a kick of pleasure making his toes curl as he adored you. The way you stared up at him, a look he would never see you give another. Your hand moved to cup his cheek, breasts bouncing as his body picked up speed. He was desperate. He was aching. He had pictured you like this for so long, but his dreams held no candle to the way your walls gripped him.
"Never. Never let another man touch you." He panted, his heart soaring as you nodded, nails digging into his shoulder as you held on to him, feeling him rail into you. "Be mine. Be forever mine. Please y/n..." His voice broke as he picked you up from the bed, needing to feel even closer. Even tighter. Your legs wrapped around him in response as your moans hit a fervored pitch. He gripped your thighs, using them to bounce you up and down his veiny shaft, using you to milk him. Eren sat back, letting the moonlight bathe your back as your hair stuck to your skin, mingling with his.
"I love you." He said. It cut through your incoherent moans, your whimpers of satisfaction. You pulled back to rest your forehead against his, letting yourself stare at him. To be seen by him. He could have done anything to look at you forever, to live his world only through your eyes.
"I love you too, 'ren." You whispered, and it pushed him over the edge. He slammed you back into the bed, load whines ripping from his throat as his hips snapped against yours over and over. You. You. You. You invaded his every sense, his every particle. You were Eren's everything.
When he came, it was like a dam breaking. Flooding you, making you cream around him. You overflowed with him, and he was at once addicted to the sensation. You cried out with him, your moans mingling as his hot mouth overtook yours. His cheeks were wet. He shook as you kissed, collapsing against you. His body was hot and muscular, the scratches you left on his back steaming slightly.
You lay there for peaceful moments, pressing your face into the top of his head while he listened to your heartbeat. He would do anything to ensure that it would never stop. He was going to do anything to ensure it never stopped.
Even if that meant he wouldn't always be there to hear it.
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golddustharrington · 7 hours ago
Stuck In The Web of Love (Peter Parker x Stark! Reader!) |Spider-Man: Homecoming- Chapter 8|
Spider-Man: Homecoming Masterlist
Story Summary: Being Tony Stark’s kid can have its ups and downs. One of the downs is that you are in danger when your dad comes out as Iron Man. And one of the ups is that you are protected by the avengers. But what happens when you meet someone that you met a long time ago. As the two of you get closer when you go to Midtown Tech, meeting Ned, MJ, and everyone else. What happens when you catch feelings for the geeky brunette, especially when he has feelings for someone else? Will you hide these feelings or tell him at the right time… or the wrong time?  
Chapter Summary: the reader and peter are working at the weapon core they found the night before in the shop with some help from ned. its decathlon time and its seems to be the perfect time for peter to sneak off, right? peter talks to karen about his feelings, but about who.
Word Count: 8.2k+
Warnings: fluff and language 
I love interacting with you all! Feel free to ask, private message or leave a comment below! 
Note: grammar, punctuation and spelling errors 
Taglist: @write-from-the-heart @ayejaysshite @est19xxshit @hallecarey1
“You want to tell me why the hell you came home late last night with your clothes somewhat wet?” Pepper questioned you, watching you grab two pieces of toast from the toaster and placed them on the white plate that you were holding before you. You were wearing a white ivory shirt with a maroon plaid button up with light washed skinny jeans, paired off with black vans. 
“I was hanging out with Peter at the party, and we ended up staying late, okay?” You lied as you placed the plate onto the counter and grabbed the jar of your favorite jam to put on the toast. Pepper sighed in annoyance as she looked at you, her head placed in the palm of her hand as she looked at you with a look of disbelief on her face.
“Mhm,” She hummed, stealing a quick glance down at the screen of her laptop. Probably an important email or something like that. “So, what’s your explanation for your clothes?” She looked at you with a raised brow and you returned the look after taking a bite for your toast, swallowing the bite before you spoke.
“There was a pool. I lost my balance and fell into the pool.” You lied again before taking another bite of the toast. Pepper took a deep breath before looking at her laptop before her and started typing, the way she looked at you and how she reacted to what you said was telling you that she didn’t believe you.
“And what did Peter do?” She questioned as she continued to type, her eyes moving word after word that she was typing in her computer. Trying to get more out of you, looking up at you quickly.
You shifted on your feet as you got rid of the little crumbs of toast off your hands as you finished your breakfast. “He jumped in to make sure that I was okay,” You lied to her once again as you placed your plate into the sink. “And we just hung out in the backyard with Ned afterwards.” You finished. You were met with typing as it echoed throughout the room.
You sighed and glanced down at your watch that sat on your wrist to see that it was time to go to school, and from what Peter texted you when you woke up that morning was that he was bring the glowing purple item in school and was wondering if you wanted to help him dismantle it to see what it was.
Of course, you agreed to do so.
“I’ve got to go,” You informed Pepper as you grabbed your bag from a chair at the table. “I’ll be back some time after school.” You added as you began walking towards the elevator.
“Don’t you have that Decathlon competition coming up soon?” Pepper questioned as you pressed the button to go down. You looked over your shoulder to look at her.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Just wondering,” She answered, turning around in her seat to look at you. Her arm sitting on top of the chair as she looked at you. “You might want to pack beforehand, Y/N.” She suggested, to which you nodded to her as the doors of the elevator opened.
“Have a great day at school, Y/N.” Pepper said over her shoulder as you walked into the elevator, placing earbuds into your ears. “Have a great day, Pepper.” You repeated as the elevator doors began to close. You sighed and leaned against the railing of the elevator, watching the numbers count how many floors you passed by.
The numbers telling you how close you were getting to going to school.
At the shop with Peter, trying to dismantle the glowing object that the two of you found to look at the glowing item better. Peter hitting the item a few times with a hammer to see if that freed the object from the wiring. Causing the object to glow purple after hit after hit. 
It did lose up a piece of metal that was placed on the object, letting Peter remove it just as easily as it came loose. 
“Hey,” Ned said as he walked up to the table where you and Peter were. “Thanks for bailing on me.” You and Peter looked up from the object to look at your friend. 
“Yeah, well, something came up.” Peter informed, looking down at the glowing object and back at Ned. Showing him what the two of you are working on. Ned looked down in shock. 
“Oh, what is that?” Ned asked in shock as he studied the object just you and Peter were. You picked some tweezers and began removing the wiring as Peter informed Ned about what happened last night. 
“We don’t know,” Peter shrugged, glancing at you quickly before looking back at Ned. “Some guy tried to vaporize me with it.” Peter said, causing you to look at Peter with a look of concern. 
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me that Peter?” You questioned the brunette as you tossed some metal onto the table. Peter looked over at you and shrugged once again, swallowing nervously. 
“Did… didn’t cross my mind at the time Y/N.” 
“Mhm.” You hummed as you returned to dismantling the object. Tossing more things that came from the object onto the table.
“Really?” Ned asked in shock, making his friend look away from you and back to him. 
“Yeah.” Peter nodded.
“Awesome!” Ned exclaimed, causing you and Peter to look at him with an indignant look making him back track immediately. 
“I mean, not awesome,” Ned shook his head to disapprove of what he said before. “Totally uncool of that guy. So scary.”  You and Peter glanced up at him from the device to look at with the same look you gave him before looking back at the device and disassembling it. 
“Well, look, we think it’s…” Peter looked quickly over at you. “A power source.” He said, making you nod your head in agreement. “Yeah, but it’s connected to all these microprocessors,” Ned pointed at some of the wires. “That’s an inductive charging plate. That’s what I use to charge my toothbrush.” 
“Well, whoever’s making these weapons is,” You began as you pulled a wire loose.
“Is combing alien tech with ours.” Peter finished your sentence, making you look at him. Earning a tug at your heart. You gave him a soft smile and nodded your head. 
“Yeah, that.” You sighed. Peter reciprocated the same soft smile you gave him in return. The two of you having a red tint to your cheeks.
“That’s literally the coolest sentence anyone has ever said,” Ned said in amazement, making you and Peter look over at him as he stared off. You two of you looked at each other and shrugged. You went to start moving the wires, feeling Peter’s hand brush against yours.
Causing sparks to flow through your skin.
“I just want to thank you for letting me be a part of your journey… into this amazing-“ Ned said, beginning his speech until you moved your hands away from the device to allow Peter to slam the hammer down on it once again. Making a loud noise echo throughout the shop and the glowing object to jump out of the device it was held in, onto the table, also causing the three of you to jump and to quickly look over at the teacher, who was reading a book at his desk.
“Keep your fingers clear of the blades.” His voice boomed throughout the shop. The three let out a sigh of relief and turned back to the device. “We gotta figure out what this is and who made it.” Peter informed.
“We’ll go to the lab after class and run tests,” Ned added, which not too so afterwards do their handshake as you just chuckled at them with a small shake of your head as the three of you continued to look at the glowing object.
Wondering who in the world would want to combine alien tech.
In Peter’s room, you were spinning in Peter’s desk chair. Staring blankly up at the ceiling as you tried to understand what you were just told over the phone when Peter called you. Talking quickly through the phone.
“So, let me get this straight,” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair with your eyes clenched closed in concentration. Peter sitting on his bed looked at you with his head in the palm of his hand, staring at you admiringly. “The guys that tried to vaporize you came to the school because they…” You trailed off and looked over at Peter for help.
“They had an energy pulse in the shop and were searching for it. So, I put a tracking device on one of the guys boots to see where they might be going.” You nodded your head at this information, moving the chair back and forth slightly as you pursed your lips in thought.
“And what are you going to do when you figure out where they are?” You questioned the brunette. Peter sat up fully as this question and looked at you confidently.
“Easy, I’ll go after them and stop them,” His cheeks began to turn a light pink as he looked at you shyly. “With your help if you want to.” He suggested shyly, making your cheeks feel hot.
“I’d like to Peter, but my-“ But you were cut off by Ned sitting in front of the two of you as a holographic map with a blinking red dot on a device with excitement in his voice and on his face. You were going to tell Peter about the tracker inside his suit, but it was too late when Peter looked over where Ned was with excitement. 
“This is so awesome,” Peter laid on his bed to be closed to his best friend and you moved from the chair to sit on the floor and lean against the bed as the three of you looked at the holographic map that sat in Ned’s hand.
“I know, right?” Peter agreed as the three of you watched the red dot move along the map. You sighed and moved around to get comfortable, having a feeling that this was going to be awhile until the three of you figured out where they’re going to stop at. You glanced over at the map to see that the red dot moved.
“They’re in Brooklyn.” You sighed as you crossed your arms against your chest.
As time moved on, the three of you moved around the room as you watched the red dot move on the map.
“Staten Island.” Ned said as the three of you were snacking on chips, you and Ned sitting on the floor and Peter hanging upside down from the top bunk of his bed.
“Leaving Jersey.” You yawned as night fell on the three of you. The only light sources helping the three of you see were the holographic map, your phone that you had in your hand as you texted Pepper that you might be late coming home, and the streetlights shining in through Peter’s bedroom window.
Not too long ago, Ned fell asleep on Peter’s bed, wearing the Spider-Man mask. You were laying down on the floor with a pillow cushioning your head as you looked up at Peter, who was on the ceiling. The two of you having random conversations after one of you brought something up. 
“Do you remember when we first met?” You questioned him as you looked up at him. Your heart beating fast as you looked up at him curiously. Peter furrowed his brows at you with a small tilt to his head, making your heart do backflips. 
“Of course I remember Y/N,” He said softly. “I have a fucking picture that aunt May took of us sitting on the fucking jungle gym. I remember bumping heads with you and meeting you, it was one the best things that happened to me.” He smiled softly, making you do the same. 
“It was the best thing that happened to me as well,” You sighed, but then sat up and looked at the brunette curiously. “One of the best things that happened to you?” You questioned him. Peter looked at you with another tilt of his head and began to lower himself from a web, stopping to be face to face with you even though he’s upside down. 
“Yeah, meeting you again was another best thing that happened to me, Y/N.” He confessed, his cheeks having a light pink tint to them, you felt your cheeks heat up at this confession as well. 
“Same,” You smiled at the brunette. “I wish I didn’t lose that picture though. When my dad came back from where our house used to be in Malibu with just a few things that were left behind and didn’t have that picture I felt my heart shatter,” You confessed, looking down at the ground. Playing with your fingers as you did so. 
“Y/N,” Peter said softly, making you look up at the boy with brown eyes. He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, kept his hand there as the two of you looked at each other. Both of your hearts feel a tug on them. 
“I’m sorry for losing it.” You apologized softly as you continued to stare into his brown eyes. Peter shook his head at your apology. 
“You don’t have to apologize for losing it, Y/N. You didn’t know that your home was going to be destroyed that day,” He began, watching at a passing headlights of a car pass by his bedroom window move across your face, showing your features that caused another big tug at his heart. 
“I can make you another one if you’d like.” Peter offered with a soft smile. 
“No,” You shook your head. “I can’t ask you to do that Peter.” You were being stubborn, something that your dad, Pepper, Happy, Rhodey, the Avengers picked up on when they were around you. Tony telling you that you act like your mom when she’s stubborn, especially when you cross your arms and tap your foot when your firm about your decision.
“Y/N, please let me do this for you,” Peter begged as he pushed the same strand that came loose when you shook your head. “Please.” He pleaded softly to you. You stared at Peter and opened mouth to say something, but the sound of a beeping noise interrupted you and the bed shifted as Ned sat up on the bed and grabbed the device that had the holographic map. 
“They stopped.” He informed, causing you and Peter to turn in his direction to look at the map. 
“Maryland?” You questioned as you looked at the red dot with furrowed brows. 
“What’s there?” Ned questioned the two of you. Peter shrugged as he answered him. 
“I don’t know. Evil lair?” 
“They have a lair?” Ned asked, surprised. 
“Dude, a gang with alien guns…” Peter began his sentence. 
“Run by a guy with wings?” You questioned, you and Peter looked at each other with a pink tint still on your cheeks but probably slightly brighter before looking back over at Ned. 
“Yeah, they have an evil lair.” The two of you said in unison. 
“Badass,” Ned said, impressed with a nod of his head, but titled his head to the side as he looked at Peter. “But how are you gonna get there if it’s like, 300 miles away?” The three of you stared at each other for a second before looking over at the decathlon poster simultaneously.
“It’s not too far from D.C.” Peter stated, forming a plan inside his head already. But looking at the poster made your eyes widened from what you and Pepper talked about that morning, causing you to stand up quickly. Being careful to avoid bumping heads with Peter as you did so. 
“I’ve gotta go,” You informed as you patted your jean pockets to see which pocket your phone was in to text Happy you need a ride home. “I’ve got to pack for the decathlon and I told Pepper I was going to be home earlier and it’s late…” You rambled as you texted Pepper quickly after texting Happy. You glanced up at Peter and Ned as they looked at you. 
“I’ll see you guys later,” You sighed as you walked over to where they still were. You leaned down to hug Ned goodbye. 
“Bye Ned.” You said.
“Bye Y/N.” You gave him a soft smile before you turned around to see Peter still hanging upside down but still eye level with you. You couldn’t really hug him like this so you had to think of another way to say goodbye. 
“Bye Peter,” You said softly as you leaned a little closer, your heart beating fast in your chest. 
“Bye Y/N.” Peter said with a shy smile on his lips. Thinking you were going to back away and walk away like he thought, you didn’t. 
Instead you leaned in a little closer making Peter shallow nervously as he watched you. You quickly looked at the brunette before pressing your lips softly to his cheek like you did years before at the playground when you had to leave. 
When you pulled away you saw that Peter’s cheeks were a bright red as he looked at you and you were pretty sure your cheeks were exactly the same. 
"I… I'll see you guys later," You said softly as you stood up fully and started walking towards Peter's bedroom door. 
"Bye Y/N!" Ned waved happily at you. You returned the wave with a shy smile and watched Peter land on the floor on his feet. And turned around to look at you in awe. 
"Bye Y/N." He breathed. You felt a tug at your heart at this. You opened the door as you said before you walked out the door. 
"Bye Peter." 
Once you stepped outside his bedroom door, closing it behind you, you pressed your lips together to hide your smile as you walked to the front door of the apartment. 
Saying goodbye to May as you did so. 
You were standing in front of the bus with Ned and the rest of the decathlon team, helping everyone load up the bus wearing your yellow decathlon jacket with a river green short sleeved t-shirt with different variations of colors that were gathered in bouquets on the shirt. 
The colors consisted of; yellows. whites, pinks, and blues. The dark blue skinny jeans finished off with black vans. You were looking around to see if Peter was going to show up or not, you were worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked around the school. 
“Where are you Peter?” You mumbled underneath your breath. What if Peter decided to not go with the plan that he told you over the phone that morning when you woke up. What if it was because of the kiss you left on his cheek? You shook your head at the thought followed by your cheeks heating up at the thought. 
As you looked forward again you felt your heart almost leap out of your chest. Peter was walking over to where all of you were standing. A smile broke out on your lips as you waved at him with a smile on your face, making Peter return it. 
“Hey, it’s Peter.” Abe shouted, giving Peter away. Everyone turned their attention to the brunette that was getting closer to all of you. 
“Guys,” Peter greeted as he stopped in front of everyone, taking a few steps back when he got too close to Liz. 
“Peter?” Liz asked, confused with her brows furrowed in confusion as to why he was back after quitting. 
“Hey, I was hoping I could rejoin the team. Peter said, looking at everyone in the group. Before anyone can say anyone, a voice that annoyed you to death so much that you knew who it belonged to spoke up. 
“No, no, no way,” Flash spoke up, annoyed as he walked towards Peter. “You can’t just stroll up and be welcomed back by everyone.” And just right on cue, Mr. Harrington stepped off the bus and greeted Peter with a smile and did the exact opposite Flash just said. 
“Hey, welcome back Peter,” Flash looked at Mr. Harrington with an annoyed look just as Mr. Harrington looked at him. “Flash, you’re first alternate.” You laughed when you heard this, covering your mouth with the fist of your hand. 
“What?” Flash questioned, acting like he just got punched in the face. Making you laugh even more behind your hand. 
“He’s taking your place.” Abe shouted out to Flash, making people silently chuckle to themselves. 
“Excuse me,” Michelle spoke out from the back of the crowd, stepping forward a bit so that she could be seen. “I was hoping to get some protesting in front of an embassy before dinner, so.” Michelle added as she looked at Mr. Harrington for his response. 
Mr. Harrington nodded his head as he understood where Michelle was coming from. “Protesting is patriotic,” He nodded towards the bus towards him, telling all of you to get on. “Let’s get on the bus.” 
As everyone began getting on the bus, Flash shrugged off his jacks and thrusted in into Peter’s arms before getting onto the bus in annoyance. Bumping into people as he walked up the steps of the bus. You walked up next to Peter and bumped your shoulder against his. 
“He deserves it,” You sighed and looked over at the brunette with chocolate brown eyes. Peter chuckled as he removed his backpack and handed it towards you to put on his decathlon jacket. “He’s a dick.” 
“Not to you at least.” Peter sighed as he pulled his right arm through the jacket sleeve. You rolled your eyes at this and an aggravated groan. 
“It’s because he likes me and doesn’t know how to take a no as an answer.” Peter snickered at this as he grabbed his backpack from you and put it back on his back with a smirk on his face. 
“You should tell him that you have a crush on Spider-Man.” Peter joked. You felt a tug at your heart and your cheeks when Peter said this. You wished that Peter knew what he said was true. You really wished he did. 
But it needed to be at the right place, at the right time. 
“Hahahahahahaha,” You sarcastically laughed as you bumped your shoulder against his again as you walked towards the steps of the bus. “Like that’s gonna stop him. It’s only gonna motivate him even more.” You added, walking past Peter to get onto the bus. Your cheeks heating up even more if that was possible as you heard Peter’s light footsteps against the concrete and grass to catch up with you. 
With one foot stepping onto the bus, you felt Peter grab your hand, sending sparks down your spine. Even more were sent down when he intertwined his fingers with yours. The two of you holding hands until it came to walking down the aisle to get to your seats is when you let go of his hand, and him letting go of yours. 
Much to both of your dismays. 
In their hotel room, Peter and Ned had his suit hooked up to Ned’s computer after getting to the hotel for the competition. Peter wanted to get rid of the tracker that Happy mentioned to him on the bus when heading to D.C. Why didn’t you tell him when you had the chance? 
Were you going to tell him anyways? Let him know about the tracker or keep it a secret from him? 
But here he is, sitting on the carpet floor on his knees. Tweezers in one hand, flashlight in his mouth, while his other hand is holding onto a piece of his suit that held the embedded tracker. 
“Peter… what are we removing the tracker from your suit?” Ned questioned him. Peter looked at Ned quickly and back to his suit, and took the flashlight out of his mouth so that he could speak. 
“I gotta follow these guys to their boss before they move again…” Peter answered, dropping his voice a little as he looked at his friend. “And I don’t want Mr. Stark to know about it.” 
Ned furrowed his brows at Peter in confusion. “So you’re lying to Iron Man now? What about Y/N? Wasn’t she going to go with you?” He questioned, making Peter look at Ned with his brows furrowed as well when he mentioned him lying to your dad and leaving you out on his little mission. 
And Peter has thought about you going and he decided not to. He noticed how you were enjoying being a normal actual teen for once on the bus with everyone else, more specifically having separate conversations with Michelle during practice on the trip to D.C.
“No, I’m not lying. He just doesn’t really get what I can do yet,” Ned rolled his eyes with a shake of his head in annoyance. “And for Y/N… I just want her to enjoy this trip as much as she can. She’s never got to do something like this for a while. She deserves this.” Peter placed the flashlight back into his mouth and started concentrating on the tracker once again. 
Feeling his heart flutter at the little scenarios of taking you on little dates if the two of you were to date. If you shared the same feelings as him, the keyword being if. Scenarios where you can be a normal teen with him by your side, as your best friend and boyfriend. 
“Gotcha,” Peter muttered as Peter held the tracker up between the tweezers and removed the flashlight from his mouth and moved towards the lamp. “All right, Happy, enjoy tracking this lamp.” Peter smiled as he placed the tracker not the lamp shade while Ned was looking at the coding that was on the screen of his laptop.
“There’s a ton of other subsystems in here… but they’re all disabled by the Training Wheels Protocol.” Ned smirked with a laugh leaving his lips. This caught Peter’s attention and moved to Ned’s side to look at the screen in annoyance.
“Training Wheels Protocol,” Peter mumbled to himself as he looked at the screen. “Turn it off.” Peter demanded. 
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ned disagreed and pointed at the screen to prove his point. “I mean, they’re probably blocked for a reason.” Peter sighed in annoyance with a roll of his eyes
“Come on, man, I don’t need Training Wheels,” Peter got up and got onto a bed and stood on it. “I’m sick of him treating me like a kid all the time. It’s not cool.” He complained. Ned looked at his friend with furrowed brows in confusion. 
“But you are a kid.” Ned pointed out. 
“Yeah, a kid who can stop a bus with his bare hands.” Peter remarked. Ned looked at Peter with a worried look. “Peter,” Ned began, he gestured to the screen in front of him. “I just don’t think this a great idea. I mean, what if this is illegal?” Ned asked, cautiously. Peter jumped down from the bed in panic and got down on his knees next to Ned. 
“Look, please. This is my chance to prove myself. I can handle it. Ned, come on.” Peter pleaded with his friend to follow on with disabling the protocol in his suit. 
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Ned stated, disapproving of the idea. 
“The guy in the chair.” Peter said, trying to tempt Ned. Ned sighed with a roll of his eyes, trying not to fall under his friend’s temptation. 
“Don’t do that.” 
“Come on,” Peter begged. Ned sighed and typed away on his laptop, disabling the protocol. The two of them watching light blue lines run over the suit and stopped. 
A sign telling the two of them that the plan was taking place and that Peter was no longer under the Training Wheels Protocol. 
“Come on, Y/N,” Liz urged you as you, her, and some of the people on the team were rushing down the hall of the hotel with snacks, towels, and wore white robes around yourselves, giggles leaving your mouths as you tried to “sneak”. All of you were rushing down to the pool before the day of the competition, which is the next day. 
You never got the chance to do something like this, especially when your dad took you out of school earlier on when you were little. You never got the chance to do the things you haven’t, like this. Not being able to be a regular teen with friends and do things that teens do. 
So here you are in a light purple two-piece bathing suit with a white robe around yourself as you ran down the hard floor of the hotel with your friends. Right when you went around the corner of the hallway, you saw Liz and Peter talking. You tell it was Peter, even with a hood over his head, was some of his chocolate curls peeking out from underneath the hood of his jacket. 
While everyone ran past them, Flash slapped Peter’s ass as he did so. Starling Peter while it made you laugh. You stopped in your tracks while Peter and Liz talked about something and then Liz looked over Peter’s shoulder and gave Peter a smile before walking off. 
Telling you it was your chance to talk to him. So you did so. You started making your way towards the brunette, your feet lightly hitting the hard cold floor. 
“Hey,” You said softly, making Peter jump and turn around to see who it was. He had his jacket all the way zipped up, and you already knew why. He had his suit on underneath. “I see that you’re ready to go swimming.” You joked, pointed to his jacket and jeans. Peter looked down at the clothing he was wearing and back at you. You had a white robe on like everyone else that passed by him. 
“Y-you’re g-go-going swimming to?” Peter asked, stuttering. You nodded with a soft smile and burning cheeks. 
“Yeah,” You nodded, playing with the soft fabric on the towel that you were holding. “I haven’t been swimming in a while, which feels like forever. The only time it feels like I’ve ever been swimming was in…” You trailed off and looked at Peter, feeling a tug at your heart. 
“Malibu.” You and Peter said in unison. Peter looked at you sympathetically as you gave him a shy smile. You let out a sad sigh as you thought about the memories you had in Malibu, everything that you missed and remembered. 
“You miss it? Don’t you?” Peter inquired, making you look up at him with another sad sigh and a shrug. 
“Yeah, sometimes I guess,” You looked into his brown eyes with a sad smile, playing with the cuff of your robe. “I miss the beach, the water, surfing on the waves.” You listed off with a laugh, closing your eyes imaging everything you listed off. The sound of the waves crashing around you, encompassing around you as you were knocked off your surfboard. Peter joined in the laughter as he looked at you, the lights showing your features like in his room. 
But this time it made it seem like you were an angel from how it was behind you. 
But then your laugh faded and your eyes opened to look at him, sadness prevalent in your eyes as you looked at him. Almost like you were hurt or upset by something. 
“What’s wrong?” He asked, concerned. You bit your lip nervously as you looked at the brunette. 
“It’s just that…” You sighed as you ran your fingers through your hair. “If I stayed there, meaning that the house wasn’t destroyed. I might not have met you and that would really suck, because you’re my best friend.” You admitted with a shy smile and a burning of your cheeks. You looked down at the floor real quick before looking up to see Peter looking at you in awe. 
His brown eyes showed admiration as he looked at you with a smile and light tint on pink on his cheeks. You just wanted to kiss him, telling him how you feel also and hopefully he’ll feel the same also. You wanted to have little dates with him and hold his hand across the table, make little jokes between the two of you during dinner with your dad, couple things that you’ve read in books. 
Even though sometimes they’re not sometimes exactly accurate. 
Unfortunately your little scenarios of Peter were interrupted by a voice calling out to you. 
“Y/N,” You groaned and rolled your eyes and looked over Peter’s shoulder as Peter looked behind him. Flash was standing there waiting for you with his hands on his hips. “You coming or what?” He questioned. You sighed in annoyance and looked at black haired teen in your eyesight. 
“Give me a damn minute, okay?” You looked at Peter quickly, mouthing to him. “He’s so annoying, my god.” Peter snickered at this as you looked over his shoulder to see Flash throwing his arms up in annoyance and walked off. Allowing the two of you to start laughing at loud. 
You leaned forward, clutching your stomach and placed your head on Peter’s shoulder. Trying to catch your breath but failing to do so. 
“He really doesn’t know when to leave you alone, doesn’t he?” Peter chuckled, he felt you shake your head no as you continued to laugh. “No, I-I guess he doesn’t.” You giggled. The two of you continued laughing until the reason why Peter’s out here dawned upon the two of you, causing the laughter that was shared between the two of you to stop. 
You lifted your head up from Peter’s shoulder, your lips closer than you thought. Making your cheeks burn from how close the two of you are, you could feel Peter’s breath lightly hit your face as the two of you look at each other. 
“I should let you go, huh?” You questioned. Peter nodded, looking down at you sadly. You nodded, understanding that he had to go. But then something popped up in your head. You nudge your nose against his lightly, making your heart flutter even more. 
“I can go you know, help you catch the bad guys. I can hurry back to my room and get changed and we can go.” You suggested. As much as Peter would like that, he still remembered the decision that he made earlier on. 
“As much as I’d like to, Y/N,” Peter whispered, nudging his nose against yours like you did before. “I can do this on my own. I want you to be able to have fun with teens our age without having to deal with any superhero duties for a day. You should be able to have a day to be just a teen.” 
“But I want to have those days with you.” You admitted with a whisper. Peter felt a tug on his heart when you admitted this, Peter nudged his hand with yours and yours reacted to his small touch by nudging against his. And you pressed your forehead against his, making your heart flutter even more. 
“I promise…” Peter trailed off with a nervous swallow as he closed his eyes. “After all of this is over we can hang out somewhere. Just you and me.” He promised. You hummed as your response and moved your head a little, making the brunette curious. But he soon figured it out when he felt a light peck against his cheek that made his cheeks flush even more and a hard tug at his heart. 
“Please be careful, I don’t want to lose my best friend,” You whispered in his ear before you pulled away. Peter opened his eyes to see you had a bright pink flush on your cheeks that probably matched his. “Please make it back safely. Please.” You begged as you began backing away towards the direction of the pool. 
“Y-yeah.” Peter stuttered with a smile on his face as he watched you get closer to the corner that led you to the pool. You returned the smile as waved him goodbye before turning around and rushing around the corner before Flash came back to get you. Your hair flying in the wind. 
Peter did not know what was going to happen tonight and neither were you. 
Waking up from a hard shake from the dark trailer of a truck, Peter woke up with a groan and sat up a bit, holding his head. 
“Oh, my head,” Peter groaned. He vaguely remembered about what happened. He knows that he found the bad guys and went after them, but then the bird guy came over and everything went fuzzy from there. He continued to groan as he got up from the floor, his vision a little bit wobbly, causing him to hold onto the crates in front of him. 
“You appear to have a mild concussion.” The voice lady in his suit informed him. Peter removed his hand from his head and looked around the area that he was in. Confusion setting on his mind as he looked around. The metal crates around him full of things that he didn’t know. 
“Hey, so where am I right now?” Peter questioned the voice lady. 
“I’m not sure,” The voice lady answered as Peter looked into the crates. “The container walls are hindering my sensors.” 
 “Wait a minute,” Peter whispered to himself as he looked around his surroundings once again. “They must have hijacked the truck and taken me to their evil lair.” Peter looked around once again before whispering. 
“Okay, suit lady, we’re gonna have to fight our way out of this one.” 
Peter turned around to face the doors of the trailer, getting into stance and to break down the doors.  
“Three, two, one.” Peter began to run towards the metal doors of the trailer. Bracing his arms in front of him for impact. Peter breaks the doors down of the trailer and looks around to see that he’s in a warehouse full of containers, making him look around the warehouse on guard. 
“What is this place?” Peter asked himself. “Suit lady, where am I?” Peter asked his suit. 
“You’re in the most secure facility on the Eastern Seaboard. The Damage Control Deep Storage Vault.” The voice informed Peter. Peter turned around to see a huge door with the letters. 
Peter placed his hands in panic as he started at the huge door. “No. Seriously.” Peter said, groaning in annoyance at the end. Moments later, Peter crawled to the door and tried to open it, but nothing would budge. 
“The door will most likely remain closed until morning.” The voice lady informed Peter as he landed back onto the concrete floor. Peter kicked at the door in annoyance and looked up at it. “Morning.” Peter asked in disappointment. Peter sighed after hearing this and looked around the warehouse to see if there was any other way for him to leave. 
But when he found nothing in return, Pete was left to find something to do in the meantime until morning.
“Hey, suit lady. I kind of feel bad calling you ‘suit lady’, you know?” Peter asked as he laid down on a web-made hammock. “I think I should probably give you a name,” Peter said, thinking about names. And one came to mind. 
“Like Liz,” Peter suggested, but then immediately regretted it. “No, no, no. God, that’s… weird.” 
Later on, Peter was swinging on a web with one hand. Still coming with names for the suit lady. 
“What about Karen?” Peter suggested as he dropped onto the concrete floor below him gently on his back. He was wondering what you were doing right now? Were you wondering if he was okay or where he was at? The thought of you made Peter’s heart do backflips.
“You can call me Karen if you would like.” Karen said, breaking Peter out of his thoughts. Soon after that, Peter was hanging upside down on a web reading a textbook. “Hey, Karen, what else can this suit do?” Peter questioned, trying to break his thoughts from the last time he was hanging upside down like this. 
It reminded him of when you kissed him on the cheek before you left the night before everyone left for D.C. The thought of you not only kissing his cheek in his bedroom, but also in the hotel hallway. He felt his cheeks heat up at the feeling of your lips pressing softly against his cheek. 
But then suddenly, web wings popped out from under his arms. Snapping him out from his thoughts and from the textbook that sat in his hands in shock. 
“What?” He gasped. 
Peter then moved onto standing in front of an empty wall, wearing his yellow decathlon jacket over his suit. A laser of the Spider-Man emblem on the wall, while Peter is examining the options for his web. 
“Maybe we should run that refresher course.” Peter mumbled under his breath. 
“Ricochet web.” Karen said as Peter selected an option for his web. 
“Ricochet web.” Peter repeated, aiming towards the empty wall where a ball of a web was shot out towards the wall and then ricocheted off the wall into a trailer, making Peter duck when it bounced off the wall. Peter turned around to look at the container in amazement. 
“Whoa! Cool!” 
Later on, the wall is covered with patches of webs. No longer being as empty as it was before. Peter was walking around the area of the wall full of webs, selecting another option. 
“Splitter Web.” Karen said as Peter selected another option, making two different webs shootout in different directions as Peter continued to walk.
More time had passed by and the wall was even more messier from Peter practicing each option he was learning. 
“Web grenade.” Karen named another option Peter selected. 
“Web grenade!” Peter exclaimed, as he jumped and threw another web and it exploded into a giant web and then later on Peter used some web and started to jump rope. Just trying to find something to pass time. 
Hoping that time will speed up so he can go to the competition in time before anyone notices he’s been gone. And so he can be there with you before you start to worry even more than you probably were. 
After learning about his different options, Peter was laying on one of the trailers. One hand placed on his stomach as many thoughts ran through his head. Like, what would you do when you see if? Would you run towards him and hug him so tight that he couldn’t get out of it unless he pushed you off. 
Which he didn’t want to do. 
Or would you kiss him on the lips instead of the cheek this time. In front of everyone. Telling them that you both liked each other. But there was that little doubt inside his mind that was telling him that even though he liked you, doesn’t mean that you liked him back. You were kind of out of his league. 
“Should I tell Y/N that I like her?” Peter asked out loud, not knowing that he did so as he stared up at the ceiling. 
“Y/N Stark?” Karen questioned him, making Peter jump for a bit but then embarrassed when he realized that he asked something out loud instead of his head. 
“Uh… y-yeah. She’s just… heh. She’s awesome and so caring, you know. And she’s just the best. And, uh… Yeah, I just… I really want to tell her, but it’s kind of weird, you know? ‘Hey, I like you, do you like me?’” 
“What’s weird about that?” Karen questioned the brunette. Peter let out a deep sigh as he thought of his answer. Thinking about any other boy that might catch your interest who isn’t him. Someone that might catch your interest more than him gaining your interest. 
“What if she’s more into someone like Flash? Imagine how she’ll be when I tell her. What if she rejects me after I tell her that I like her?” Peter questioned out loud, throwing his arms up. 
“Well, if I were her, I wouldn’t reject you at all.” Karen reassured. Her reassurance made Peter feel a bit better, giving him a little bit of hope that you might like him back. 
“Thanks Karen. It’s really nice to have somebody to talk to,” Peter thanked Karen, but then something popped inside his head. Something that he was trying to keep a track of time he had left until morning so that the doors could open. “Hey, how long we been here anyways?” Peter questioned Karen. 
“Thirty seven minutes.” Karen answered. This was a shock to Peter since he thought that it was less than that and this frustrated him. 
“What?” Peter sat up immediately, getting ready to leave the warehouse. Not waiting for anyone to open the doors to the warehouse he was in. He needed to leave now. “Thirty seven minutes? That’s insane. I cannot take this anymore. I gotta… I gotta get out of here.” 
Peter then flipped off the trailer he was laying on and walked into the trailer that he was in when he woke up. He sighed as he took off his yellow decathlon jacket and he’s other jacket he wore at the hotel. 
“There’s got to be something in here I can use.” Peter said to himself as he kneeled down on the ground and unzipped the bird man’s duffle bag. 
“Okay, let’s see,” Peter said as he began going through the duffle. Peter pulls out a wheel-shaped metal piece and puts it aside, finding it not useful for what he’s trying to do. 
He then reached inside the bag again and pulled out a head of a robot. “That’s awesome,” And then also put it to the side like the wheel-shaped metal, the robot head making a clanging sound as it hits the metal of the floor. Peter reached into the bag again and pulled out a similar glowing thing that you and him found when the two of you were walking back to Liz’s house. 
“Ah, hey, it’s like the glowy thing Y/N and I found.” Peter said out loud. Examining the object close like he did with the one that Ned has currently. 
“That glowy thing is an explosive Chitauri energy core.” Karen informed Peter. This new information that Peter just received made him drop the Chitauri energy core carefully. Not wanting to disturb it and cause it to blow up, if that could be the possible cause. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! You mean, we’ve been carrying around a bomb?” Peter questioned, panic in his voice. 
“It would require radiation to transform it into an explosive state.” Karen informed. While Karen said this, Peter rushed to the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his phone to try to call Ned, but the call ended itself from getting any reception. 
“No, no, no, no, no.” Peter panicked. Peter then rushed out of the trailer and used his webs to swing to the warehouse doors, clinging to them once he reached them and started banging and shouting. Hoping that someone nearby will hear him and get him out of there. 
“Hey! Please! Please, somebody, let me out! Hey!” But then caught Peter’s attention from the corner of his eye. It was a time lock, sitting there for someone to put in the right sequence to be opened and make the doors open. “Karen, you have to help me override that time lock.” 
After gathering his stuff into his backpack, Peter was hanging upside down in front of the time lock with a notepad and a pen in hand. Putting numbers into the lock panel in hopes of the doors opening. 
“Okay Karen. Lower the voltage and run it.” Peter ordered. 
“Trail unsuccessful.” Karen informed. Peter began crossing out the wrong sequence into his notepad, panic settling in his bones. 
“Okay, we’re just gonna have to try every sequence.” He said. After he began writing another sequence that’ll override the lock, Peter yawned as he pressed in the numbers of the finished sequence he wrote down. 
“Initiating trail 247.” Karen stated, the massive warehouse doors groaning as they opened made Peter look over in relief. 
“It worked! It works!” Peter exclaimed. Right when the warehouse doors had a big gap between the two of them, Peter swung out in his webs, crawling on a ceiling outside the warehouse afterwards and then dropped on a trailer on a departing truck. When the truck was passing by an armed guard, Peter quickly laid down to stay out of sight of the armed guard. 
The only thing going through his head was that he was hoping that he was going to make it to the decathlon to see you and Ned and the Chitauir energy core. 
Hoping that he wasn’t too late, but something was telling him that he was. 
You might want to remember about the picture that the reader lost and what Peter told her what he can do. It’ll be REALLY important in a future chapter!
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ikpopwriting · 8 hours ago
Series Masterlist
Chapter One: Letters
You change the filter of the photo currently on your computer screen, sighing when something is still wrong about it. The lighting is perfect, at least, but something about the tone of the photo just You scroll through the filter options, looking for a specific one, and pause when your eyes land on another. Maybe...
“Doesn’t hurt you try,” you tell yourself, clicking on the filter and adjusting the settings. It takes you several minutes, but finally, the image comes to life like you had hoped. “Well...thank God for that.”
“Looks good,” your boss, Mr. Hughs, says, coming to stand behind you. “I had my doubts about these being salvageable, but you’ve done it again, sweetheart.” He places his hand on the back of your chair, and you go through the finished photos with him quickly, showing him side-by-side before and afters. “Amazing. I really thought Trevor had screwed us over, but you’ve managed to save the whole spread. Too bad you weren’t available yourself to take the shots.”
“Yes, sir,” you agree, though you honestly doubt your boss would have let his personal assistant fly to London for two weeks. You don’t know how the man functions without you. He’s slowly let your photography skills be used throughout the office on different local jobs, and has always offered up your editing skills, but you highly doubt he’d let you out of his sight for so long. Especially with the photographer opening available.
“I have a meeting at 12:30, but I shouldn’t need your assistance the rest of the day so I’ve told Margarette you’ll be available to help her get some shots for her piece on graffiti artists around the city. Should she need you tomorrow, since it’s the weekend, I’ll leave that up to you,” he says, placing his hand on your bare shoulder and giving it a light squeeze.
Mr. Hughs has never been the most subtle about his more than professional intentions towards you, but you’ve politely brushed them off over the last two years since coming to the magazine. He’s nearly fifteen years your senior, and has many qualities you find...lacking, to be polite, not the least his obvious feelings that you belong to him professionally.
“Yes, sir. Thank you.” You turn your head in his direction, giving him a polite smile. He nods his head, removing his hand after another moment and returning to his inner office. You shake your head, returning to your computer screen, and move onto the next photo, groaning internally when even the lighting can’t be justified. Honestly, where did this company find these photographers?
“Thank you so much for agreeing to help me!” Margarette Johnson, one of the best local writers, says the moment you climb into her Tahoe. You smile, buckling your seatbelt and glancing in the backseat at your camera bag. Since you’re not an official company photographer, you supplied your own equipment, which was fine with you. You know your camera better than you know yourself, honestly. “I hope we have enough daylight to get all the art I want, and the right shots, of course. I’ll leave that up to you, though. If you think the lighting is all wrong, we can definitely try again tomorrow or Sunday, if you’re free.”
You turn back to Margarette as she pulls out of the parking garage, nodding. “I’m free all weekend, and I intend on only giving you the best quality.”
She laughs, heading towards the south side of town first. “Oh, I know. That’s why I requested you! You’re hands down the best photographer we have! It’s a shame you’re not official, and that old Hughs is keeping you to himself.” She pouts, and you find yourself laughing. She’s definitely a personality. “You should definitely apply for the photographer opening! You’d definitely get it; we all think so!”
“We?” you ask, shocked.
“Yes, we. Everyone I’ve talked to has mentioned that they hope you apply. We love working with you, and hate that you’re not officially available for use. You would be booked up, flying all around the world on projects! There’s even been a couple of higher-ups talking about selecting you as their official photographer, if you apply that is. We’re all very confident you would get the job.” She glances at you. “You’re honestly too good to be working for a magazine.”
You blink at her, absorbing the information. You had no idea so many people in the company thought so much of your skills; especially top editors. It leaves you with a lot to think about the rest of the drive, and you’re even more conflicted by the time you reach your first destination.
“It’s been touched up since the last time I was here. Good, I had worried about fading,” Margarette muses, taking in the wall of art. You take a few practice shots, forgoing your tripod. It wouldn’t give you the right feel to your photos, you decide. “Try to get them as vibrant and alive as you can—what am I saying! This is you! Just—do you, and I’ll hush!”
You smile, looking over your practice shots and deciding on the best angle for lighting. You crouch down, snapping a few shots, before moving for a different angle. You lose yourself in the camera lens; in the subject in front of you; in bringing to life the moment and object you capture for anyone who views your work. Eventually, you decide you’ve gotten all the shots you need, and turn to Margarette to let her know, only to stop short. “What?”
She’s smiling fondly at you, leaning against the opposite wall. “You’re really in your element there, aren’t you?” She straightens, not letting you answer, and heads back towards her car. “Come on, on to the next one!”
The last stop of the day is on a rooftop overlooking the city, the sun setting to the left of the wall the graffiti art is on. It makes for a perfect shot, the colors blending together nicely, and you use it to your advantage. You take several shots, and wait for the sun to sink a little lower, before adjusting your position and resuming. Margarette is patient with you, allowing you to take as long as you need on this one. By the time you’re done, the sun has sank below the skyscrapers, illuminating them in a way that pulls at you. You snap a couple of pictures for yourself, debating on whether the new background works for the art, and take a couple anyway. You can always scrap them later, during editing.
“Okay, I think that’s all for today. Unless you have a site in mind that’s lit up at night?” You quirk a brow at Margarette, and watch as she thinks for a moment. She pouts, shaking her head.
“That would have been a great shot, though. Maybe I should do some research for tomorrow night...” she trails off, turning to look back at the city. “I’m sure there’s something out there that’s perfect.”
You nod, looking down at your camera, before raising it and taking a quick snapshot of Margarette, silhouetted against the cityscape below. She doesn’t notice, and you smile to yourself. You’ll have to surprise her with the photo sometime, you decide.
“Well, I guess we better go. I’ll take you home, unless you have a reason to return to the office?” You shake your head, packing your camera bag up. You push your sleeves up to your elbows out of habit.
“Those are interesting...what language is that?”
You look down at your left arm, noticing for the first time the new writings there, and smile. “It’s Korean. I wasn’t aware they were there, I’m sorry.” You go to tug your sleeve down, but she stops you.
“Don’t ever apologize for your soulmate writings, dear. They’re treasures.” She smiles at you, before looking down at the sprawling script. “I remember those days, before I met my Paulo. It’s a wonderful feeling.” She shows you her wrist, where her permanent soulmate mark is, and traces over it with her fingertip. “Can you read them?”
You run your finger over the neatly written characters:
나를 생각하니, 나의 천사?
You shake your head sadly. “I can speak the language quite fluently, but unfortunately my understanding of the written words is very...lacking. I take pictures of each new appearance, though, so maybe someday I can look back and decipher them someday. Whenever I find the time to take up my studies again, that is.”
She nods. “I was the same way with Italian, but I pushed myself. You’ll get there, don’t worry. It’ll all be worth it when you meet them, too.”
You finish gathering your things in silence, lost in your own thoughts, before watching the last colors of sunset disappear from the sky as the night sets in fully.
“What time works for you tomorrow? I can be ready whenever,” you say, pulling the strap of your bag up onto your shoulder as the two of you make your way to the stairway.
“Well, if I hadn’t started with the sites I had today, I’d say before sunrise, but none of the other sites really offer the view. Unless you need the lighting?” You think for a moment, then shake your head. “Then how about 7:00? We can grab breakfast before getting to work—my treat. I owe you for this, anyway.”
“That’s not-“
“I’m feeding you one way or another.”
“-okay. 7:00 works for me, then,” you sigh, smiling slightly.
Margarette drops you off at your apartment building after giving you her number and waving goodbye. You can’t help smiling as you make your way up the steps and into the lobby, nodding to the doorman and pulling your keys out of your pocket as you head to the elevator. You live in a relatively more upscale apartment building than you can actually afford, all thanks to your roommate, Skyler Hansen. Her dad owns the building, and she allows you to live with her, rent free. You buy the groceries and necessities, of course, though she insists you don’t have to.
You get out on the third floor, stopping in front of your door just as it swings open, startling you.
“Finally!” Skyler cries out, pulling you inside, slamming the door behind you. “Where have you been! You got off work hours ago!” She crosses her arms across her chest, foot tapping against the hardwood floor.
You blink at her, confused. Neither of you really care about the other’s schedule, coming and going as you please, so this encounter is odd to say the least. “I was taking photos for a spread about local graffiti everything okay, Sky?”
She holds out her hand, and you notice for the first time she’s holding an envelope. You look at her questioningly, and she flips it over. It’s addressed to you, but it’s the return address that’s got your eyebrows raising nearly into your hairline.
It’s from the office of the CEO of the magazine company you work for.
“I have been itching since getting that out of the mailbox to know what’s inside,” Skyler says, taking your arm and leading you to sit at the dining table. “Open it!”
Your hands shake slightly, wondering what the envelope could hold. You tear open the fold, pulling out the letter, and quickly skim the contents, your eyes widening the whole time. You reread it, thinking there must be a mistake, and your breath catches.
“Well?” Skyler asks, leg bouncing next to yours beneath the table. You glance her way before handing her the letter, clasping your hands together on the table in front of you when she practically rips it from your hands. “What the—no fucking way!” She looks back at you. “Babe!”
You exhale shakily, eyes tearing up, and she grabs you in a crushing hug. “They want me to take the photographer opening—the CEO himself is offering me the job, without an application!” The tears start to fall, and you laugh at the feelings bursting in your chest.
Skyler pulls back, fixing you with one of her looks. “You’re going to accept, of course.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, and you hurriedly nod. “Good, because, babe, this is a sign if I’ve ever seen one. You’re going places!”
You wipe at your tears, looking down at the letter on your table. The fact that he had sent you a letter, instead of a simple email, shows how serious he is about this decision and offer. You smile to yourself, thinking back to what Margarette had said earlier. Things were finally looking up for you.
“What do you mean, you’ve accepted the job offer?”
You wince at the loudness of Mr. Hughs’ voice, and his tone, but stand firm. You’re standing in front of his desk, having just pointed out your buried resignation letter to him. “I mean just that, Mr. Hughs. I’ve accepted Mr. Singh’s offer to be a company photographer, starting immediately.”
He looks at you with incredulousness. “You didn’t even consult with me! I didn’t even know you had applied!”
You sigh, clasping your hands in front of you. “I don’t need your permission, sir. It’s my decision, and I’ve made it.” You pause. “I didn’t send in an application, either. Mr. Singh requested me for the job, personally.” His mouth opens and closes, and you smooth down your skirt. “If that is all, I’ll take my leave. My replacement has already been brought up to speed on how you like things done, and is proficient in her duties. It’s been a privilege to work for you, Mr. Hughs.”
You turn on your heel, leaving him sitting in shock at his desk, and let the smile fall into place on your face. You honestly don’t know how this has come as such a shock—you’ve spent the last two weeks training your replacement right in front of the man, after all.
You say goodbye to the new personal assistant in the outer office, picking up your box of things and your bag and walking out the door, into the main area of the floor. You look over the cluster of sectioned desks and milling people, before making your way to the elevator, and your new office on the seventh floor.
When the doors to the elevator open, all heads turn in your direction. You pause, one foot forward, but lift your head and proceed. People smile at you, congratulating you on landing the job, on your skills as a photo editor and photographer, and say they can’t wait to work with you. You smile, tension easing from your shoulders as you make your way to your office cubical, setting your box of belongs down.
“Hey, new girl,” a voice calls, and you turn to see Margarette walking towards you, a smile on her face. “Glad to see you in your rightful place, finally.”
“Glad to be here,” you respond. “How did you like the photos?”
“They were perfect, of course! I’m having a hard time narrowing the selection down for the spread, actually.” She sighs, but the smile doesn’t leave her face. “So, have you gotten your first assignment yet?”
“There you are.”
You both turn, watching as a man walks towards you. You recognize him immediately as one of the top writers of the company’s entertainment magazine, Mason Floyd. You assume he’s addressing Margarette, so it surprises you to realize his eyes are on you.
“Mr. Floyd-“
“Mason, please.” He holds his hand out to you, and you shake it with a firm grip. “I cannot tell you how long I have been waiting to get my hands on you. Hughs definitely kept you under lock and key, didn’t he?”
“He sure did,” Margarette agrees. “I’ll catch up with you later. See ya!” You watch as she walks off, before returning your attention to Mason.
He smiles at you, leaning against the wall of your cubical. “I was hoping to catch you before anyone else did—I have a job for you.”
“You do?” You ask, surprised.
He nods, smiling. “How do you feel about international travel?”
To be honest, you’ve never traveled outside of the United States, not for lack of wanting. “I’m entirely open to the idea, sir.”
“Good. What about extended stays? Say, a month?” Your eyes widen, but you nod. “Excellent. Last question...what do you know about K-Pop sensation BTS?”
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uncpanda · 8 hours ago
The Ties that Bind: Aardvark
Synopsis of series: Being the older sister of a literal genius? It’s not easy. Raising said genius from childhood on? An act of love. Uprooting your life again when he gets in over his head? A no brainer. Finding a new family and support system for yourself? Well, you suppose that’s just luck. 
AN: We all know Reid loves Halloween, but maybe there’s a special reason as to why he does? 
Warnings: parentification
Year: 1987
 Master List
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“I want to be an Aardvark.”
You stare at your little brother, not quite sure what to say, “Like Arthur, from the show?” 
He shakes his head, “No. Like the animal. Did you know they eat termites?” 
Ahh, he must have taken out a book on them, that explains the sudden fascination. But you really doubt a store is going to have an aardvark costume, and even if they did, you’re not sure you could tear your mom away from her book to take you both there. She’s become increasingly distant in the past few weeks, and you just hope the phase will end soon. Either way, this one is on you. 
At six years old, Spencer has had enough disappointment in his life, and eleven it’s your job to take care of him. You’re his big sister after all. “That costume is going to be really unique, so unique I don’t think a store is going to have it.” You watch his shoulders slump for a second before saying, “So, we’ll just have to make it.” 
You find a brown sweatshirt, and khaki pants at goodwill. You use your lunch money to pay for them, and Spencer beams at you. The ears are made from construction paper, felt, and one of your old headbands. The nose, the most difficult part, is made out of one of William’s old socks stuffed with newspaper. You fasten it to Spencer’s face with string. 
To be honest, the kid looks nothing like an actual aardvark, but you suppose it’ll pass for Halloween. And Spencer, well he’s thrilled with the end result, and that’s what matters. He wears it proudly to school on Halloween, and he must tell you a million different aardvark facts in the process; facts that will stick with you for the rest of your life, and you like to whip out as a party trick. 
When you pick him up from school he’s still in amazing spirits and he tells you he’s won an award for most creative costume. He proudly shows you the little plastic medal, before slipping it around your neck, “You’re the one who made it, I just wore it.” He explains. 
Your mom is still buried deep in her work when you get home, but she does take enough time to look at Spencer’s costume, listen to a few aardvark facts, and take a picture of the two of you. You put the polaroid in the scrapbook you had started after William had left. 
When that’s done, she retreats back to her office. You grab a pillowcase, hand it to Spencer, and set out to trick or treat. Your eyes never leave your brother. You stay focused on him as he goes up to a house, says the magic words, and then returns to your side. He looks vastly different from kids in their store bought costumes of superheroes, and cats, and witches. But Spencer is unique, and you’d have him no other way. 
By the end of the night, your feet hurt, and you’re feeling a little cranky, but Spencer is still on his Halloween high. He hands you a very heavy pillow case, and talks about all of his favorite moments from the day in vivid detail. When you get home he takes time to sort out his candy. You’re not quite sure what his organization system is, but you watch in fascination as he sorts them into four piles. 
When that’s done, he goes and gets three ziplock bags and a marker. With handwriting that is extremely neat for a six year old he writes his name on one bag, your name on the second, and mom on the third, before putting a pile of candy into each. When he hands you the bag with your name on it he says, “I know you gave up trick or treating for me, but you deserve some candy. I think I got all your favorites in there.” 
Your eyes prickle with tears, and you wrap your arms around him, and he immediately snuggles into the hug. “You’re my all time favorite Aardvark, you know that?” 
He grins, “I figured as much. I’m very smart, ya know.” 
Yes, you do know, you also know that he’s incredibly kind, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world. 
“You are very smart, so put that big brain to use and start brainstorming for next year. We’ll make an even cooler costume!” 
Tag List (If your username is striked out it means it wouldn’t let me tag you): 
@hateinthemorning @nightressposts @bulldozed88 @toastedside @am3l1a-24  @wintelu @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @moonwarriorx3 @fallen-wolf22  @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @kathleenjasmine @l-vvne @sekhmet5 
@lil-frenchfri77  @prettylittlemoonlight @webreathfandoms
 @fandomsstolemylife00 @gracesd1ary @eli-side-blog @sleepy-time  @bcarolinablr @acoolnight @violet-potter @ssavanessa22 
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ajbwasntwriting · 9 hours ago
My inspiration to write is dead so please fill my inbox with requests/prompts literally everything
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Fandoms I can write for:
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The Walking Dead
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Harry Potter
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My Hero Acadamia
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No !dark aus
I won't put minors in NSFW situations.
Ships & self insert are fine
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wulfies-kpop-fanfics · 9 hours ago
One Photo → Mark Lee [7]
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↳  Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader
↳  AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.
↳  Word count: 3,097
↳  Chapters: Prelude | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.
You awaken to a streak of morning glow shining into your bedroom through your window, the curtains slightly parted. You feel warm and comfortable, your polar bear plushie tucked neatly in your grip. When you manage to gain some semblance of morning vision, you notice that Mark wasn't with you. Before you can jump to conclusions, though, the smell of eggs and bacon wafts into your nose. 
Standing and grabbing your glasses from your desk to put them on, you yawn and make your way out of your room, following the smell of breakfast. 
"Here, make sure you crack it so there aren't any eggshells. The most important part is that you make sure the water is bubbling, but not boiling all the way. Then we carefully slip the egg into the water from the bowl." 
Your feet idly carry you down the hallway from your room, and your eyes follow the sound of conversation and a fork scraping a plate. You meet eyes with Donghyuck, who is sitting in your makeshift dining room, freezing just as he takes a bite of scrambled eggs, his eyes wide and staring straight at you. Without a word between either of you, he chews and swallows, getting up and quickly shuffling into the kitchen. 
Furrowing your eyebrows and licking your lips, you approach the arch of the kitchen and peer inside. Rhiannon is standing next to Mark, who is dipping a slotted spoon into a pot of steaming water. There's a breakfast in bed tray next to them on the kitchen counter, already topped with toast and bacon on a plate accompanied by a glass of milk. 
Donghyuck comes back into your view, leaning toward Rhiannon and whispering in her ear. Her head snaps to look in your direction, elbowing Mark in the side. He nearly drops what looks like a perfectly poached egg, but still successfully manages to put it on the plate. 
Mark, too, looks over at you. 
"You couldn't sleep for like, five more minutes," Rhiannon is the first to speak, her words causing your cheeks to heat up. She quickly places a metal cover over the plate, shoving Mark in your direction. 
Mark stumbles for a moment but quickly approaches you, taking your hands in his. He sheepishly smiles at you, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. "Go," he starts, kissing your other cheek, "back," kiss "to bed," kiss. "I wanted this to be a surprise." He's gently leading you to step backwards, down the hall and all the way back into your bed. He smooths the covers over your legs, kisses your forehead and then dashes from the room.
Your mouth hangs open with genuine surprise, your eyes glued to your bedroom door. It's not long until Mark appears again, carefully carrying the little table into the room with him.
"You really didn't have to do this for me," you remark as he gently places the table over your lap. "I should be the one cooking for you."
"You will have a million chances to cook for me in time," he said, nudging the table closer to you and lifting off the little metal cover that hid your plate. The bacon was crispy, one poached egg was on top of a piece of toast and the second piece had strawberry jam spread to the edges, just the way you like it. 
"Thank you, Mark, this is too sweet, I feel bad," you laugh softly as you pick up the toast with jam to take a bite. 
"Don't feel bad, I had fun cooking these, (Y/N). One second, though." Again he dashes from the room and comes back with his own plate with toast, bacon and scrambled eggs. You scooch over enough so he can fully join you again in bed, and you both share a quiet breakfast. 
You begin to notice an aura in the air as you look at Mark. He seems cheerful, poking away at his meal and occasionally looking back at you, cheeks full of food and his lips decorated with crumbs from his toast. Today was the last day you would see him in person for who knows how long. You would have to let all this go- all the time you spent with him, his cheerful expressions and his touch. 
You quickly peeled your eyes away from him, poking your egg with your fork and watching the yolk spill down the edge of your toast. You didn't want this week to end. 
"Your exams start next week, right?" Mark's voice is soft as if he knows exactly what you're thinking about. 
"Yeah," you reply, "then I have to wait for my graduation form, and then I can go to the ceremony, hopefully." 
"I feel like I might have taken away any time you would have had to study," he comments dejectedly, and it makes you look at him again. 
"No," you retaliate quickly, taking in a deep breath, "I've never really needed to cram like people do in the movies- I study subjects as I go. I could technically do all my exams today and be confident. Please don't feel bad, I already do." 
"Ever since I met you I've been dreading today," Mark says, placing his fork and knife down on the empty plate sitting on his lap. "The day I had to leave."
You licked your lips, taking a long blink. His tone of voice made your stomach flip and your chest hurt like you were being stabbed. "Me too. I, uh, was thinking… I wanted to go to the airport with you."
Mark's eyes widened. "Really? I mean, I'm happy, but aren't you worried about all the fans and the media?" 
"Yes," you nod, "but they're all going to find out eventually. I just want to spend as much time with you as I can." 
"I do too," he agrees, finally wiping his mouth. "I just don't want to pull you into a world you might not be ready for." 
Slowly you nodded, looking back at your nearly finished breakfast. You finish off your egg in silence, scraping up the last of the yolk with the final corner of toast. "You're a good cook," you say, a small smile tugging at your lips. 
Mark laughed sheepishly, standing up. "Only because I had help. Can I take that?"
"Y-yeah. I'll get dressed. Thank you."
Mark loomed over you for a moment, gently placing his plate on top of yours and lifting the tray off your lap. "Okay. We'll leave when you're ready." With that, he was gone. 
You were glad you hadn't decided to wake up early and put on makeup because if you did it would have been ruined almost as quickly as Mark left your sight. It wasn't that your mind was racing with thoughts, with what-ifs. No, it was just the idea that your life changed so quickly in one week - and now you had to go back to your normal life like nothing had happened at all. 
You would be able to see him again sometime in the future, you knew this, but when he left the room, pain hit you like a wave, knowing that when he went to customs at the airport, it would really be the last time you saw him - indefinitely, until something brought you back together. So you cried, hoping to get all of it out now. 
Finally dressed and looking like you had banished evidence of your tears off your face, you grabbed your backpack and looked inside. Two items were neatly secured in a cloth tote bag lined with green tissue paper - the photo frame that was neatly wrapped in bubble wrap and your most prized piece of clothing. It was the Star Wars: The Last Jedi sweater you bought on your trip to Florida with Rhiannon in the year previous, nearly three sizes too large. Smiling sadly, you ran your thumb over the fabric, then closed your backpack and secured it over your shoulders. 
When you exited your room, everyone was waiting for you in the front hall. The day wasn't a happy one despite the sun bursting through the patio door, especially judging from the aura of melancholy that hit you as soon as everyone laid eyes on you. 
"Ready to go?" Rhiannon was always the bravest to speak first, gently taking Donghyuck's hand. You in turn gently took Mark's hand, squeezing it ever so slightly. 
"Yeah. I'm ready." 
The further you went, from the dorm to the subway and from the subway to the streetcar, you felt increasingly sad. You knew that everyone was feeling the same way as you since the entire way had been completely silent. You and Rhiannon already knew the way, so the boys just followed your lead, sitting and exchanging sad smiles when any of you made eye contact. 
Next stop. Next stop. Next stop. Change here for line two. Next stop. Change here for streetcar. 
Once you arrive at the airport, their manager meets you. He eyes you and Rhiannon sternly until Mark speaks up, and once he is finished the manager reluctantly nods and leads you to the first-class lounge. The lounge is nearly completely empty, except for where the rest of the group is, surrounded by luggage. 
There is little exchange of words when Mark and Donghyuck both take their luggage from the others. All of you gather around a flight board, watching for the Vancouver gate. You hear distant conversations, your mind almost blanking out. You took Mark's hand, causing him to look back at you with a sombre smile. 
"It's not forever, you know," was the first thing Mark said to you since leaving the house. You can barely make eye contact with him, nodding and leaning into his side. 
"I know, but it feels like it." You lifted your arm, looking at the scars that decorated both yours and Mark's bodies. "When I graduate I'll visit."
Mark's smile became more genuine, looking down at you with a sparkle in his eyes. "You won't just be visiting, you'll be moving."
Your eyes widened for a moment, and then you also begin to smile. "I hope so." You both settle into a mutual gaze, one that isn't exactly awkward, but it's not happy either. "Mark," you say again, after waiting far too long. 
He raised his eyebrows at you, nodding questioningly. "What is it?"
You take in a deep breath, taking off your backpack and opening it up to pass Mark the tote. "As commissioned." You held it up to him, and his curious expression changed back to a genuine smile. 
"Thank you," his voice was barely above a whisper, taking the tote from you and peering inside of it. "What else is here?" It sounded like he was asking that to himself as he pulled out your sweater. 
"It will remind you of me," you add quietly, "and it will probably fit you better than it fits me."
"(Y/N), I can't-"
"Please?" Mark looked you in the eye as you muttered that one word, noticing that tears you had long thought you had been rid of were beginning to surface. 
Mark quickly tied the sweater around his waist and gently set the tote with the photo frame to the side so Johnny could pick it up, quickly engulfing you in another hug. "Okay," he whispered, letting you dig your forehead into the crook of his neck. "Thank you."
Not long after, a small chime rang through the lounge as the next lineup of gates appeared on the large screen everyone was lurking around. It was time for the boys to head for their gate. You were reluctant to leave the tight hug Mark nearly trapped you in, and you could feel that his breathing was beginning to stutter like he was crying. 
"Come on," you heard Jaehyun from beyond the grip of your soulmate, "we can't miss our flight."
You gripped your fingers into the fabric of Mark's shirt, but you knew you had to let go. As soon as you separated, Mark reached for your hand, wiping his face.
Mark and Donghyuck insisted that you and Rhiannon were allowed to walk with them until they went through security, so you decided to go with them. Your heart thumped in your chest when you remembered that fans would be waiting for them. Mark squeezed your hand gently once you tensed, hearing the sounds of camera clicks getting closer and closer. Soon enough you were bombarded by flashing cameras and stunned fans who were staring at you with varying degrees of surprise and confusion. 
Mark waved toward the small crowd with his free hand, leading you past them with an experienced fervour. Once you arrive at the end of the line, still inwardly panicking, Mark turned to you, taking your other hand in his. 
"I'm going to miss you," he said, smiling shyly. "Send me lots of pictures from your graduation, okay?"
"Of course," your mind was nearly taken off the crowd until Mark kissed you. Nothing like you haven't done before- sweet and loving- just like you had come to adore and sometimes crave. Only this time, so many other people were watching you. Once you separated your lips you caught him in a hug. "I love you,"
"I love you too, (Y/N)."
You took in a deep breath, standing next to Rhiannon and taking her hand as everyone began to put up their luggage and go through customs. You waved back at them, putting on the best smile you could, trying to keep from looking at the multitude of photographers behind the black ribbon barricade. 
Once they were out of sight, everyone had their cameras trained on you and Rhiannon. Taking her hand, the two of you pushed back through the growing crowd and ran as fast as you could to a place where you both could lay low until the fan sites lost interest. 
Once you got home, you dreaded going onto the internet, knowing you would see yourself, red-faced and melancholy, basically attached to Mark at the hip. So, you shut yourself in your room.
"Are you studying?" 
Night had fallen when you woke up from your impromptu depression nap, so you had rubbed the sleep from your eyes and headed to Rhiannon's room. She looked back at you from her desk, the light from her laptop the only source of illumination in the house. 
"Kinda," she sighed. She rolled her computer chair to face you, crossing one leg over the other. "I've been mostly pretending to worry about my studies and instead checking my phone every five seconds for a text."
"They're probably busy," you mumble, inviting yourself into her room and sitting on her bed. "I miss them."
"I do too. All we need to do is save up enough to move, I guess," Rhiannon said, turning back around and opening one of her textbooks.
"If only it were that easy."
She scoffed when she heard you. "Yeah, if only." 
You licked your lips, laying down on top of the sheets of Rhiannon's bed, taking her stuffed turtle into your arms. "Have you been on the internet today?"
You could hear her chair moving again, her mouse clicking and her keyboard following after. "Yeah," she answered with a sigh. "It's not all bad, thank God, but people are really trying to speculate who we are." 
You groan into the fabric of the turtle. "I really hope people don't feel like they have to, like, deduce who we are and start following us around." 
Rhiannon didn't answer. After a minute, you put the plushie to the side and sit up, looking at her silhouette framed by the light of her computer. 
"You okay?" 
She perked up, shrugging. "I guess. I suppose that it's all, y'know… sinking in. This week I've just been thinking about Donghyuck and I, but now the rest of the world is going to be involved, too. Even if we have the scars to prove it, some fans will never let them go." 
You looked down. "Yeah, you're right. I guess that maybe we shouldn't have gone. I just didn't want to say goodbye." 
"Me neither." Rhiannon sighed audibly, and then the gentle tapping of keys on her keyboard became the primary noise in the room. You stayed sprawled out on her bed, not fond of the idea of being alone. 
"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" As soon as you finished your question, the typing stopped. The deadly quiet made your heart thump in your chest, worried that she would say no. 
"Yeah. I don't want to sleep by myself either." 
Sighing with relief, you smile. "Are you going to keep studying?" 
Rhiannon hummed. "For another while yet. You can sleep if you're tired, I'll keep it down."
"Okay." You quickly made a trip to your room to grab your polar bear and your phone, and then you did your best to snuggle in the sheets of Rhiannon's bed, claiming the left side as your own. You placed your phone right by your pillow, too afraid to unlock it and see your face on Soompi, Allkpop, Koreaboo and worst of all, Twitter. 
You stayed awake and listened to the sounds of Rhiannon's studying, slowly dozing more and more. Once you were on the cusp of sleep, your phone buzzed. Then it buzzed again. You groaned, turning over to grab it. Running your fingers along your pop socket, you wondered if you should even look at what the notification was. That was when your screen lit up again with another faint buzz, revealing Mark's contact photo and a line of sparkling heart emojis. 
You found yourself donning a tired smile as you unlock your phone to read Mark's texts. 
Mark: I'm not sure if you're still awake but I thought you might want to know that I'm safe and we are all settled in Vancouver 
Mark: my mom said that you are very pretty 
I miss you
Mark: aaaaaa you probably really are asleep please sleep well, study hard, I love you 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
You: I love you too Mark, rest well, I miss you too
Before temptation could get the better of you, you locked your phone and quickly shoved it beneath your pillow, holding your polar bear tightly. You did your best to focus on Rhiannon's typing once more to lull you back to sleep, wishing with all of your might that the next couple of years would pass you by while you slept. 
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odnanerf · 11 hours ago
Accelerated Ignition Pt 2 Preview
I’m currently writing Accelerated Ignition pt 2 and idk if y’all even remember it because I literally wrote the original a MONTH AGO ahhhh. Is the sequel still wanted?? Who knows?? If all goes well I will post part 2 soon.
If anyone really is still waiting for this, well thank you for being patient and also I apologize lmao I did not realize so much time had passed.
I also feel like we deserve a little preview:
Sitting in a plush seat of the first class section of this train wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but the way your party was currently restlessly staring at the window and pacing around the compartment made you know not to get too comfortable. You stared at your own reflection, seeing the sun gleam in the background, through the fog and cold air. Traveling through the mountainside of Sokovia was tricky, and it was also unnecessarily long.
You pulled your winter parka around you a little bit harder, feeling the chills of the air through the glass. It didn’t help that your newfound pyrokinetic powers had made you entirely more susceptible to feeling awry about the cold, even if you were capable of being warm for the most part. The misty air just felt rather alien to you.
You didn’t want to see the Scarlet Witch again, but you knew that was just the primitive part of your brain talking. Wanda needed help, even if she was kind of frightening to be around now. You were set in your mind about that.
Stephen Strange, for the maybe fiftieth time, if you were keeping count, sighed in a way that could only really appropriately sum up the serious nature of the journey. The conflict, the very imperative priority of why you were here, only continue to harrow your collective minds, and you could feel the urge to hurry up the trip somehow.
“Tell me again, why I couldn’t just run you two up to whatever cabin the she-demon is in?” Peter Maximoff sat down on the seat next to yours, exasperatedly blowing some of the hair out of his face. He had been pacing around in annoyance for a bit, with slight bursts of super speed, and it was the least you could do to not stop him. Peter had told you before that he gets kind of anxious if he’s not moving, and you understood that. You could see it in the way he kept tapping his seat and running his hands through those shiny silver strands of hair.
“I explained the procedure to you in its entirety during our flight to Romania, Maximoff.” Stephen fixed him with a stony look, and Peter was unbothered.
“Sure, sure. I just think that was a dumb reason.”
“Okay, if you want to superspeed across Romania into Sokovia, be my guest. Don’t be surprised if the Scarlet Witch runs away, though.” Stephen replied, and he scoffed at that.
“I’ll just catch up, doc.”
“And what? Create an ongoing chase, after we have her where we want her? So typical.”
“It would be better than sitting here and doing nothing!”
“Doing nothing is more productive in the long run.”
They were both consistently getting irate and you had been stalling this whole time, trying to get as comfortable as possible in the cold, but it didn’t matter. 
“You two. Stop it.” You finally retorted, and they both turned towards you guiltily. “Peter, I know you’re impatient, but there’s no way you would be able to catch her on your own.”
Strange crossed his arms, clearly agreeing with you, but you didn’t stop there.
“Stephen. We both know you’re just flexing your intellect again.” You added, and he visibly seemed disgruntled by this. “Both of you just… chill.”
“Wise words, Y/n.” Peter leaned his head onto your shoulder.
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boldlyvoid · 11 hours ago
Hypothetically, | chapter updates
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chapter 16: international case - november 2009
chapter 17: doing time
chapter 18: Christmas
Summary: reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast. friends to lovers, case of the week style story warnings: basic case content warnings, refer to the ao3 tags and chapter summaries for details word count so far: 60k (chapter 1-18) from the beginning
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Hello my sweet sugar cubes... I'm still working on you guys' requests but I have in my drafts 5 chapters of a Harry Potter reader insert fanfic that hasn't left my mind for the last few months.
I was wondering if you would like me to post the first parts of it even though I just finished writing first year and I will start writing the second year probably next Monday.
Please comment what would you like, if I should wait until I have more chapters or publish the ones I have now.
Thank you and take care my sugar cubes xxx
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uncpanda · 12 hours ago
Could you do #6 with Derek Morgan??
My first thought was ANGST!!! ANGST EVERYWHERE!!!  But then a small part of me went, but FLUFF! Guess which won? 
Derek Morgan x Fem!Reader 
Prompt 6: hugging and gently holding the other’s head
The music is slow, and instead of the rather elaborate dances you and Derek had participated in earlier in the evening, this one allowed the two of you to just sort of sway back and forth, and to be honest you didn’t think you had much more in you. 
You’d been up early to get ready, and everything from there, had been a whirlwind: hair, makeup, nails, the dress. It had been worth it, you were officially Mrs. Morgan. 
Derek’s arms are wrapped around your waist, while yours are wrapped around his shoulders. He’s pretty much supporting you right now. You feel him kiss the top of your head and whisper, “I love you sweetheart. So much.” 
You force your weight back onto your feet, as you drag your hands up to cup his face and bring him down for a proper kiss. You smile into it, and you hear someone whistle. When you’re done you only pull back a fraction of an inch and whisper, “I love you too.” 
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mizumi-xi · 12 hours ago
So guys I don’t know who to write for at the moment so any ideas.
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onewithnomightypowers · 12 hours ago
clandestine (chapter 1)
PAIRING: Tom Holland x Reader (main), Harrison Osterfield x Reader
SUMMARY: y/n is in a crumbling marriage with Harrison (Haz), she is trying to make sense of how she feels about Tom 
Chapter 1: too wise to trust
A/N: y/n is bisexual but not paired with a women. the characters have been aged up. the characters in no way portray how these ppl are in real life. i do not encourage cheating. i hope you guys like it as much is i do. if you want to be tagged them pls tell me. also comments are appreciated as they motivate me to write more and i love to know how you guys feel about the story.  
warning: cursing, mention of miscarriage, mention of sex, mention of cat calling, angst. fluff? 
word count: 1.4k
important: character thoughts are bold and italic, flashback is in italic
masterlist  series masterlist
She picked up her makeup bag from her vanity and started walking towards her empty suitcase which was wide open on her bed. “What time is your flight?” Haz asked while walking into their bedroom. “I think it’s at 6:30 in the evening but the car will be here to pick me up at 4”, she replied whilst folding her clothes.
“So we have at least an hour to us”; he pulled her by the waist and started kissing her neck. She tried pushing his chest away but failed miserably. “Haz, I’m not in the mood, please stop”
“Fine. But you have been saying that for months now”, he was frustrated.
She ignored his words like always. 
He was right. They hadn’t had sex for at least five months now and it was starting to gain on Harrison. Their marriage, which had been ‘couple goals’ according to the internet, was now slowly falling apart. It was clear that Y/N was falling out of love but she couldn’t find grounds for it. She couldn’t reason it by making him the villain because he was a good man who, in theory, had done nothing wrong. Though, to her, it felt like he had. Maybe he didn’t love her enough or maybe all had gone astray when they had lost their baby last year.
“Will Tom be there?” his words felt like venom, entering her bloodstream.
She placed her hand on her forehead, trying to indicate that she did not want to have this conversation or the inevitable fight, again.
“Of course he will be there, he is my co-star. You should get off the internet, it’s feeding you poison”, she said in an almost nonchalant way. Trying her best not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction to his name. His name, which did not mean anything to her. Tom was her colleague whom the internet liked to ship her with, but he was just a friend. Haz found it hard to believe this because the internet told him so. Their relationship was so far gone that he had no other way of knowing what was going on in her life. 
His wife was so far gone. She was as distant as the sun is from the moon. The distance left coldness between them. The kind of cold that you feel when you pass a stranger. She was a stranger to him and the only reason he could think of was that she and Tom were having an affair. This was not true, but the ache in his soul found comfort in painting Tom as the villain. 
“I don’t believe you”, Haz spat out.
She threw her heels inside the suitcase in anger. “What do you not believe? That Tom is my co-star? Is that what you don’t believe?” her voice was louder than before.
“I don’t trust him.” Haz matched her voice.
“Do you trust me?”
Trust? Her? How can I trust a stranger?
It was his turn to ignore her.
She zipped her bag, put on her shoes, and left the room. “Fuck you”, she cried before slamming their apartment door and leaving for London.
Y/N had first met Tom at a cast and crew dinner in New York, six months ago. Greta, the director, had invited both her and Haz but he had decided to opt-out of the ‘fancy’ dinner. Y/N was excited to meet her new co-stars and mark the starting of a new project, a new phase in her life.
It was cold in New York, she figured she shouldn’t wear a dress. She put on black stockings underneath blue bell-bottoms to keep her warm. She wore a dark grey American Eagles t-shirt and over that, a tan leather trench coat. She liked commuting via subway because she believed ‘nobody gives two shits about who is sitting next to them on the train’; and a town car was much slower, especially when it had been snowing. She stuffed her heels in her purse and wore her commuting shoes.
Tribeca to West Village was a good ten minutes train. Her travel was mostly uninterrupted except for the catcalls which felt like the usual to a native. Just before ringing Greta’s doorbell, she got out of her Converse and wore her heels.
Y/N entered a packed house. Almost everyone was there and she was late. But someone was to arrive even later than her. She examined the room, everyone was mingling with each other. She didn’t know anybody there except Noah Baumbach from the time she auditioned for ‘marriage story’. She didn’t get the part but still loved the movie. She realized Tom was missing.  
Greta pulled her into a conversation about when the production of the movie would start or something like that. She wasn’t really paying attention. She was so eager to meet Tom that her eyes couldn’t stop roaming around the room, trying to find him, and just when she thought he wouldn’t show up, he did. 
Everybody’s head turned towards him when he entered the living room. It was as if every person in the room wanted him, including her. His dark brown hair, falling into place like a domino, had snowflakes in them.
“Excuse me”, Greta gave a small smile to Y/N and walked over to Tom. She greeted him and politely touched his back. “Now that everyone is here we should take the party to the dining hall”, she said in a loud and cheerful tone.
Following Greta, everyone started moving towards the dining hall. Tom sat right across Y/N on the grand dining table. “Hi, I’m Tom”, he introduced himself in his thick British accent. “And he’s English”, Y/N said, adding to her list of things she found captivating about Tom.  
“And?” Tom gave her a confused look.
Shit. I said it out loud.
“I-I mean hi, I’m Y/N”, she tried to cover up her mistake.
His dark brown eyes on her, made her thoughts run wild. It was wrong enough to feel right. The dinner was served and small groups of conversations were taking place. Somehow the whole table took on the topic of bisexuality. Y/N felt obligated to take part in the conversation, being part of the community herself. 
“I think bisexuality is a gateway to being gay”, Tom said to the whole table.
“You’re being bi-phobic, Tom”, Y/N called him out. All eyes were on her now.
“And how do you know that?” Tom asked Y/N.
“Because I am bisexual, and any decent human being would know that”
“Are you calling me indecent?”
“No, I’m calling you bi-phobic”
“But aren’t you married to a guy?”
“That doesn’t change my sexual orientation, and you’re being bi-phobic. Again.” There was silence, everyone was listening carefully. 
“Okay, so please explain to me how I’m being bi-phobic?”
“Just the fact that you believe bisexuality is a gateway to being gay and me being married to a guy, means my bisexual card has been revoked, portray your biphobia”
“I am a little confused”, Tom said while reaching for his wine glass. 
“Someone who is bisexual is attracted to both men as well as women. It isn’t a gateway to being gay, it is a legit sexuality of its own”, 
“Hmm, I suppose I stand corrected. I’m sorry if I offended you or anyone. I will go home, do the research and try to be more open-minded”, said Tom, smiling.
“Good”, Y/N said, feeling accomplished and impressed by Tom’s ability to accept his mistake.
Haz would have never accepted that he was wrong.
Y/N felt wonderstruck. Blushing all the way home. She hoped Tom knew how enchanting it was for her to meet him. She wondered if someone was waiting for him at home, like someone was waiting for her. She wasn’t quite sure whether Haz was waiting for her to reach home or not.
She reached home to an empty bed. Not knowing what to make of it, she got ready to sleep. 2 AM and Haz was still not home. She didn’t try to reach him because she knew all phone calls would go straight to voice message and all messages would go unreplied. She closed her eyes, feeling indifferent towards Haz. Even in her sleep, her mind echoed Tom’s name. She was unaware of the treacherous road ahead of her. And that gave her comfort. His thought gave her comfort.
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subtlebucky · 13 hours ago
bitter (wanda maximoff x reader)
bonus: twitter bios
summary: trying to untangle your life from your ex isn’t as easy as it seems— and you might not be as upset as you should be.
warnings: wlw fic, plus size reader, swearing, fluff
author’s note: edit: i was genuinely gonna wait until tomorrow but as i added the read more i just hit the post button without thinking lmfao, so have this now i guess. thanks for sticking around, if you have. bitter is finally finished!! time to move onto the next project i stretch out for almost a year :)
epilogue | series masterlist | main masterlist
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the-emo-asgardian · 14 hours ago
Ever Since We Met
Chapter 9
Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: After making a bet with Odin, Loki finally has a chance to prove he is worthy of being heir to the throne. Under mysterious circumstances, you find yourself stranded on Asgard, left with no option but to team up with Loki and help him win the crown. Now posing as visiting royalty, you must be careful of rumors in court that say you’re not who you claim, all while battling your growing feelings for the raven haired king. But some things are easier said than done because secrets, you’ll soon learn, can be deadly. Chapter Summary: When you meet one of his brother’s friends, it seems to spark jealousy in Loki. You come to a realization about your feelings toward him. Chapter Warnings: none A/N: Another Friday, another chapter. And it’s much happier than the last time! I love hearing any comments/predictions you have, so feel free to share. Updates every Friday. Happy reading! :) 
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Disclaimer: Gif not mine
The nobles in the room were all chatting, so it took them a moment to look up and notice you’d entered. Even once they did, they went back to talking amongst themselves, undoubtedly now about you. A blond man with a goatee and fancy armor was the first to approach you, who was still hovering uncertainly by the door.
“Do not mind them, your highness,” he said as he finished sauntering over to you. “They are but stuffy nobles, who do not make for good conversation, anyway.”
“Oh?” you replied, somehow amused by his obvious ego. You already got the sense he thought more highly of himself than he should. “And I suppose you will make for an interesting conversation partner then?”
“Indeed, I shall. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Fandral the Dashing.”
He bowed and kissed your hand, much the same as Loki had. It was different this time though, it sent no thrill racing through you. In fact, you could hardly wait for the second the contact would end. Sadly, it seemed he decided to keep his lips pressed to your skin much longer than the raven haired god had.
You introduced yourself the same way you had in the courtyard yesterday. “Though, I suppose you already knew that. My arrival has caused quite the stir.”
“Well, when such a distinguished, beautiful visitor as yourself comes, how could it not?” he replied, with what you supposed was meant to be a charming smile.
Though you saw right through his act, you thought he seemed like the kind of person it would benefit you to befriend. So, you responded with some fake flattered giggles. “It is certainly no wonder why they call you dashing, Fandral. I don’t suppose you’d stay by my side while I get to know the rest of the nobles? After all,” you continued in a stage whisper, “I hear they are dreadfully boring.”
His face lit up like a lightbulb, and he offered you his arm. “It would be my honor.”
As much as he annoyed you, Fandral was right about one thing; the conversation was quite dull. It was filled with silly gossip and complaints of first world problems. It took all your strength not to roll your eyes at every other line. How did Loki manage to put up with this? For how arrogant he could act, he wasn’t like this at all. It made you think of what Sidra had told you about him; how he was always compared to his brother. Maybe growing up in Thor’s shadow had actually given him a sense of self instead of the personalities of these shallow, superficial, copy-and-paste nobles. You knew things were bad when you decided Fandral actually was the most interesting person in the room; at least his tales included some action and daring.
As the day rolled on, you found yourself missing Loki more and more. You wondered what kingly business he was dealing with right now. If what he’d said was true and not merely a fabrication, your lessons had set him back a bit. Still, even if he’d never admit it, you were certain he enjoyed spending time with you. All the times he’d cupped your cheeks or made some kind of contact, it was obvious he was drawn to you. Yet it seemed his nature to push you away, ruin any chance at friendship you might have. Or else he was just touch-starved, desperate for any human contact. Maybe it was a bit of both. You came to the conclusion you were developing great psychoanalysis skills.
“Oh dear, you are holding the cup all wrong,” the noble to your right fretted. She seemed scandalized by the mistake you’d made, too lost in thought to keep Loki’s carefully taught lessons in mind.
“Am I really?” you feigned shock, getting an idea. “You will have to pardon me; this is how we hold them on Þrjóskurheim.”
That shut her up. It was the perfect excuse. They couldn’t say you were lying since they didn’t know anything about your supposed home world. And, since you ranked above them and were a visiting diplomat, it would have reflected poorly on anyone who pushed the matter.
“You simply must tell us more about your home,” Fandral declared, putting his arm on the back of the couch. Had you been sitting back, it would have been around you. The realization made you lean forward a bit more. “Travel is a topic of much fascination to me, and I would love to hear more about where you come from.”
You shared with your companions the details Loki had thoughtfully come up with. You sprinkled in some of your own ideas, too. Things that were the culture from your home on Midgard that it would be too hard for you to unlearn. Wait, Midgard? Since when had you started thinking of it like that? Your home was Earth, not Midgard. You convinced yourself it was just because you were very in character. Which was good. But still, in the back of your mind you were worried that your priorities were shifting. That maybe you weren’t so concerned about getting home anymore, after all.
“I’m telling you, Sidra, it was so boring!” you caterwauled later that day as your maids helped you dress for dinner. You thought it tiresome and excessive to have to change into something more formal for the meal. But it was celebrating your arrival, so it apparently would have seemed rude not to. “Do the nobles truly have nothing interesting to say?”
“I haven’t any experience with them, but I can’t imagine they would after lazing about the palace all day,” she replied, fixing the hem of your outfit.  
“I guess you’re right,” you chuckled. “Either way, it’s making me want to skip the feast and hang with you guys.”
“But Loki shall be there!” Asta exclaimed. “Certainly you must be excited to see him.”
“I, um, I dunno where you got that idea,” you said, twiddling your thumbs.
“The way you tucked his note into your sash to carry with you all day. It made me assume you had some joy in hearing from him. I thought perhaps I’d misunderstood the situation before, and there was something more between you... Please forgive me if I am wrong,” she hurried to add.
Your eyes flicked to the place where the paper now rested, its new home on your vanity. Why you’d put it in such a place of honor, you didn’t know. Nor could you figure out why you didn’t just crumple it up and toss it in the wastebasket. Why had you taken such care in unfolding it, making sure not to rip it? All these musings swam through your head as you tried to formulate a reply for your blonde friend.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for; don’t worry about it. It was just nice to see Loki being encouraging for once. That’s all,” you quickly said. “But that does remind me, what about you and Folkvar?”
“Oh? What about us?”
“Do not be coy, sister,” Sidra interjected. “I have not missed the way you look at him, and clearly neither has it escaped out new friend’s attention.”
“Well, perhaps I do find him rather charming,” she blushed. “So kind and soft, but strong too. Yet, it is silly, no more than a schoolgirl’s crush, a flight of fancy.”
“Or that’s all it is so far,” Sidra tittered.
Making a noise hallway between a gasp and a shock, Asta threw a pillow at her twin’s head. The projectile landed, giving the still laughing Sidra a face-full of the plush object. It was enough to send you and Asta into a fit of giggles with her.
As you walked down to the Great Hall with Alvaro and Folkvar, you tried to forget what Asta said, but it kept popping into your mind. Something more between you and Loki. That implied that not only did she think you had feelings for him, but that he had feelings for you, too. But she’d been wrong about you, so surely she’d also read Loki incorrectly. Yes, that had to be it. If you had any sort of crush on him, it was just a friend crush of sorts. But then why did you feel those butterflies again when he smiled at you from the head table?
As you walked towards where he was, you shook all thoughts of it out of your head. It was silly, you knew how you felt. Right? You shouldn’t let yourself be so suggestible. Loki stood and greeted you with a bow, but didn’t make any physical contact with you. You supposed the kissing of your hand thing was just for first meetings. Ignoring the way that made you sad, you returned the greeting.
“And how have you fared today, my mortal?” he asked in a low voice, sitting down after he’d pulled out your chair for you.
“I think it went pretty well,” you answered, eager to tell him more, but scared someone might overhear.
“You only think so?”
“Well, it’s not like anyone was there to tell me how I was doing, but it seemed like I made a good impression,” you pensively said. “Plus, I-”
“Your highness!” Fandral greeted, taking the seat on your other side. “So lovely to see you again.”
Turned out the hand kisses were for any time, after all, because he began to reach for it. Pretending you didn’t notice, you quickly moved it into your lap. He looked dismayed, but Loki seemed rather satisfied. Meanwhile, you just kept the most innocent, oblivious look on your face that you could.
“And greetings to you too, Fandral the Dashing,” you addressed him, forcing yourself to giggle. Suddenly, the looks on his and Loki’s faces switched. “What a pleasant surprise.”
He launched almost immediately into one of his tales about some adventure or another. Adventures, it was worth it to say, you were beginning to believe were greatly exaggerated. Luckily, by the time everyone was seated, he became interested in the raucous conversation of battles with the men who were to his right, leaving you able to turn your attention back to Loki. The king still had a sour look on his face, tapping his nails on the table while his head rested in his other hand.
“Hey,” you said, resting your hand over his and pulling him from his thoughts. “Are you alright? Did something happen today?”
“Yes, something most certainly did happen,” he replied, nostrils flaring as he quickly shot a glare at Fandral. It seemed he hoped you wouldn’t notice. “Never mind that now, my mortal. We can talk more later, in a safer place. I must give you a welcome speech, anyway.”
“Oh, ok. Do you need me to say anything?”
“No, that is quite alright.” Loki now clasped your hand in both of his. “Just sit back. The less attention you draw to yourself and fewer things you do, the better this will go; the safer you will be.”
You just nodded, emotions and thoughts a mess again. On the one hand, it sounded like he was back to not believing in you. On the other, it seemed like he was just concerned with keeping you safe. But honestly, this back and forth was getting ridiculous. You either had to confront him about this or come to a definitive conclusion about your own feelings. Now was not the time, though, because he stood and clinked his fork against his glass, gaining the attention of all the nobles in the hall.
“My good people of Asgard,” he began. “Today we celebrate the arrival of the heir to the throne of Þrjóskurheim. They are our first ever visitor from this great nation, here to forge an alliance that will stand the test of time. Thus, it is with open arms that we welcome them into our midst. As acting king, I look forward to getting to know more about you and your home, as well as coming to terms that will benefit us both,” Loki added, addressing you. He raised his glass to propose a toast and looked back out at the crowd. “To our esteemed guest, to Þrjóskurheim, to Asgard, and to the new friendship between our kingdoms.”
“Here, here,” everyone in the hall simultaneously responded, raising their glasses before drinking from them.
“Well, that went rather well,” you said to Loki after taking a sip of the bittersweet liquid in your own. “Don’t you think?”
“I would have to agree, my mortal.” You hated that the hall was loud enough and he quiet enough that he still didn’t have to use your name. “Now eat; I am quite nervous you have not been giving your body the sustenance it requires.”
You followed his instructions, eating the decadent meal laid out in front of you. After all, he was right; all you’d really eaten in the last twenty-four hours was the breakfast you’d barely managed to nibble on. As you feasted, you chatted with Loki, asking him to tell you about Asgard. Besides the fact he’d agreed to answer all your questions, it made perfect sense in the context of the act you two were putting on. By the time dessert was served, it seemed the majority of the hall was inebriated, you and the king two of the only ones still in your right minds. It was when the drunkards began to fall asleep at their tables and come to the brink of brawls that Loki decided to escort you out.
“So,” you said after a minute of walking in the empty, silent halls. “Can we talk freely now?
He quickly surveyed the area. “Yes, my mortal, I suppose we can.”
“What happened then? You said something happened, and then you looked at Fandral. But I was with him basically all day, so I don’t know what he possibly could have done.”
“Ironic, considering you just said what he did to upset me,” Loki wryly laughed.
You scrunched your nose, confused by the implication. “You mean the fact that he’s taken an interest in me?”
“And you’ve taken an interest in him. It is fine if that is the likes of which you want to align yourself with. I just have misjudged you, apparently.”
“Oh, Loki. You’ve only misread the situation, not me,” you replied, an odd smug feeling at his obvious jealousy seeping into your heart. “I only figured he seemed like the right kind of person to have on our side. But, believe me, I’m not too happy about it.”
“Is that so?” he wondered aloud, a satisfied smile gracing his perfect features. “I suppose you are correct, but my little mortal, please do not torture yourself like that. Believe me, I understand if you can only handle him in small doses. As I am certain he has boasted, he is one of my brother’s closest friends. I have had the misfortune of having to put up with him all my life.”
You chuckled at that. “You know, you haven’t talked very much about your life, your brother. Even though I’ve just been asking about Asgard, I want to learn about you, too.”
He thought for a minute, regarding you with a perplexed gaze. “If that is true, suffice it to say we do not get along as well as we used to. When we were young, we cared not for our differences, as children tend not to. It was as we got older that we no longer meshed so well. I would, at least in part, attribute that to the competition for the throne.” He paused a moment, considering if he should add the last part. “That, and our father’s blatant favoritism of Thor.”
The fact he shared that with you made you inexplicably happy. “Loki, I’m sorry. You make a great king, I was just angry when I said you didn’t. I know it can’t have been easy to be compared to him all the time.”
“Thank you, my mortal, but it is no matter now. I am certain I can prove myself as king.” You got the impression he was saying that to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince you. “But I digress. Do tell me, my clever mortal, did you make any other great strides or strategic moves today?”
You recounted how you attributed any differences between you and the Asgardians to Þrjóskurheim culture, and Loki seemed rather proud of your idea. You preened under the attention and praise, wishing it could always be like this. Still, you were wary. His mood was likely to change at any given moment.
Together, you lamented how stodgy all the nobles were. The trickster god even admitted the feast was more bearable with you by his side, albeit somewhat begrudgingly. Even so, it still made you beam. All too soon, you reached your room.
“Well, this is where we part ways for the evening,” he said after escorting you into the drawing room. “I will see you tomorrow, my mortal.”
Now came time for him to kiss the back of your hand again, just as you’d been hoping. You were quick to remind yourself it didn’t mean anything, he’d clearly said it was just an act. But here in the privacy of your quarters, you realized, there was no one around to see. Once he was gone, you slunk down to the ground against your door. It seemed like the mystery that was his emotions was one you weren’t yet meant to solve. But how you felt? Well, you were pretty sure you finally knew.
73 notes · View notes
mitchmatch24 · 14 hours ago
Melt Away
still going
Pairing: soft dom!Spencer x male!reader
Warnings: smut, teasing, cum eating, stripping, orgasm delay, wax play, making out, bondage, anal sex, praise kink, begging. that should be it.
A/N: why
Word Count: 4006
 You unlocked the door to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, Doctor Spencer Reid, and stepped inside, tossing your work bag across the room with a deep exhalation. Work had been exhausting. And stressful. Your boss had been up your ass all week about budget reports this and annual spending that. It wasn’t your fault. Things happened and sometimes money needed to be moved around. You just balanced the numbers; you didn’t call the shots as to how money was spent. You really didn’t understand why he had chosen to spend fifteen minutes of your lunch break to yell at you about it. It was out of your hands. If anything, it was his fault.
 You slipped your dress shoes off, leaving them out of the way of the door so Spencer wouldn’t trip when he came in. You padded over to the couch, flopping onto it with a tired groan. You just needed to rest your eyes. Just for a few minutes. You would just take a second and close your eyes and then you would change clothes and start making plans for dinner. You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath in as you tried letting go of all your stress and anxiety from the work week.
 You jumped awake when you felt a hand shaking you awake gently, your eyes fluttering open. You pushed up onto one forearm, trying to shake off sleep. “I’m up, I’m up,” you say quickly, looking around. Spencer laughed softly, giving you one of his amused smiles. He was sitting on the edge of the couch next to you, still dressed in his work clothes. You must have fallen asleep. You were just so exhausted when you walked in the door, sleep was bound to happen when you decided to rest your eyes. You let out a sleepy sigh, dropping back down and closing your eyes, trying to go back to sleep rather than get up and get on with the rest of your evening.
 “That good, huh?” Spencer asked teasingly. You opened your eyes, glaring at him. You thought about smacking him but refrained from doing so, knowing that wouldn’t end well for you. While you and Spencer hadn’t had sex in the past few weeks, you knew that he was more than willing to drive you crazy sexually as payback.
 “Sorry,” you mumble, realizing how you were coming off by trying to ignore him and go back to sleep, “hi, Spence. How was work?”
 “It was fine. Everything has been somewhat slow because we haven’t had any new cases. How was your day? You look exhausted and very stressed out,” Spencer said softly. He was being soft, and you wanted nothing more than to curl up in his lap and go to sleep. Or make out. Whichever came first, honestly.
 “This week has been terrible. My boss took up a quarter of my lunch hour yelling at me about spending and the budget and it wasn’t even my fault. I don’t decide how money is spent, I just budget and balance what I’m told to. I’m just tired and frustrated on so many levels,” you complained, rolling your eyes at the thought of your dickish boss. The guy needed to take a chill pill… or do drugs. Either was fine with you, as long as he pulled that stick out of his ass.
 “I’m sorry baby. I know how hard you work. How about we order Chinese and watch a movie on the couch?” Spencer suggested.
 You grinned. “Star Wars?” you both suggested simultaneously. You both laughed, Spencer’s warm laugh making your mood lighten automatically. “Then that’s settled. I’ll order while you go change clothes,” Spencer said. You could feel the shift in atmosphere, Spencer’s more domineering nature taking over and leaving no room for arguments. You were fine with that. You didn’t want to think after the long, drawn out day you had. Spencer stood and you clambered off the couch and down the hall, entering the bedroom you shared. The walls were an olive green, everything accented by dark wood and lamps. It gave the room a certain ambiance the both of you enjoyed.
 You shuffled over to the closet, hanging up your things and pulling out an old t-shirt of Spencer’s, the need for extra comfort sparking within you. Spencer was someone you felt safe with. Secure. And right now, you needed the feeling of security. It was a worn Star Trek shirt that was a little big on you. Mostly because Spencer was taller than you were. You flicked the closet light off, making your way over to your dresser and pulling out a pair of navy-blue lounge pants. You walked out of the bedroom to find Spencer on the phone, calling in the Chinese food. You walked over to one of the many, many bookshelves, looking at the set of Star Wars DVDs on the shelf and trying to decide which one to watch.
 “Empire Strikes Back,” Spencer called out, making you look back at him and scowl in mock distaste.
 “A New Hope is so much better, though,” you complain.
 “Y/n. I’m telling you. Empire Strikes Back is so much better. 97% of Star Wars fans gave it a positive rating, making it the most popular Star Wars film based on viewer opinion,” Spencer argued. You narrow your eyes further but give in, pulling The Empire Strikes Back off the shelf and walking over to the TV stand, hitting the on button on the DVD player and popping the movie in. “I’m going to change clothes. The food should be here in a little while. Wait… are you wearing one of my shirts?” Spencer asked, quirking a brow curiously. You blush, your cheeks tinging a light shade of pink as you give him a small nod. Spencer grins, walking over and kissing the crown of your head. “That’s really cute,” he states bluntly, walking away and down the hall.
 You wait for him patiently, getting up and retrieving a blanket from one of the small closets in the hallway and pouring yourself a drink. You didn’t drink very often, and seldom did you get drunk, but you just needed something strong tonight. You grabbed a bottle of water to accompany it after the scotch and then sat back down on the couch, setting the glass on a coaster on the wooden coffee table. Spencer came back down the hall dressed in black lounge pants and an old Caltech t-shirt. Spencer sat on the other end of the couch and then patted his lap, reading your mind. You happily climbed into it, shifting with him as he laid down, letting you lay between his legs. You rested your head on his chest, clicking the play button on the TV remote and starting the movie.
 After about twenty minutes there was a knock on the door. You got up, watching Spencer go over to the door and thank the delivery guy, coming back with a white plastic back. He set the bag on the coffee table and then went into the kitchen to get himself a fork. You thought it was hilarious that a genius couldn’t use chopsticks. He could memorize textbooks in a matter of minutes and repeat it back to you perfectly, but he couldn’t ‘scrounge for dinner with a pair of number two pencils’ as he said. He shot you a glare when you laughed, silently teasing him about it. “Shut up, y/n,” he grumbled.
 “What?” you say defensively, “I didn’t even say anything. I just laughed!”
 “I know what you were thinking,” he shoots back. You just roll your eyes and continue to laugh, picking up some noodles with your chopsticks and eating, turning your attention back to the screen. You both eat in silence, paying more attention to the movie but both of you ending up on the couch in you original positions as soon as you finished eating. You reveled in the feeling of being in Spencer’s arms, trying to let your frustrations melt away. Your work frustrations, however, were replaced with sexual frustration. You were growing hornier by the second, sexual need coiling inside you like a spring.
 Spencer’s hands started to roam after a few minutes, slipping up the back of your shirt, the act seemingly innocent. His job as a profiler gave him the ability to read you like a book, something you were thankful for at times. His fingers brushed up your back lightly, caressing your skin and then resting there for a few minutes as though all he was doing was touching you a little more. After a few more minutes his hands snaked down, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your lounge pants and teasing the skin. Spencer gave an amused chuckle at his findings. “Commando? Feeling bold, are we?” Spencer whispered, smirking down at you.
 You shrugged, deciding to play his game. “Didn’t feel like putting boxers on,” you reply, trying to sell your innocence. Spencer doesn’t say anything, his eyes going back to the screen. His hands slip under your waistband fully, gripping your ass and squeezing, a sharp breath escaping your throat. Spencer hummed his amusement, paying no attention to you as he teased you, every once and a while squeezing your ass. Two can play that game. You slipped one of your hands under his shirt, gripping his skin and tracing his abs with one of your fingers. You smirked when you saw how it effected Spencer, your fingers lingering and then sliding up, teasing his pectoral. You made a mental ‘fuck it’ turning all your attention to seducing him rather than the movie.
 You started kissing his neck, licking and sucking and nipping up to his ear and then back down to the other side. Spencer looked down, hindering your movements. He leaned down, taking over in an instant, his lips sliding over yours, his tongue plunging into your mouth. He sucked on your bottom lip, expertly extracting a small whimper from your lungs as he continued making out with you. Then Spencer stopped paying attention to the movie, turning all his focus to you and making out with you. You both were sliding your hands all over each other, your tongues and mouths colliding with each other’s again and again. After a few minutes Spencer pulled back, his eyes burning with arousal, passion, and lust. “Let’s… take this to the bedroom. Shall we?”
 You just nodded, disconnecting from him and then laughing as he suddenly grabbed you, picking up and continuing to kiss you while you laughed against his mouth. He put you on the bed, his body over yours. “Um… Spencer?”  you ask, making him pause.
 “Could you please, um, take me out of my head? I just want to feel. I don’t want to think. Today has been rough and I just need to turn my mind off,” you ask, your tone shy. You could feel yourself blushing.
 “Of course, I can, baby. Get up and get the sheet we use for wax play out of the closet and put it on the bed while I prepare everything else,” he ordered, slipping into his dominate persona with ease.
 “Yes sir,” you throw out as he got off you, letting you up. You walked into the closet, flicking the light on and easily locating the old sheet he was talking about. You snatched it, turning the light off and then walking back into the bedroom, unfolding it and then throwing it over the bed, making sure everything was protected. You turned, standing awkwardly as Spencer stood watching you, letting the candles start to melt. He had lube and a condom on the table, a first aid kit next to it just incase something happened. There was water sitting on the nightstand as well, for both drinking and for cooling the skin down should something happen. Safety came first. Always.
 Spencer sauntered over, a slow, dominate, sexy stride that exuded power and control and confidence. You felt a little weak in the knees just from him walking over to the bed and sitting down. He crooked a finger and pointed at a spot in front of him, silently ordering you to stand in front of him. You swallow, your heart starting to race just a little, your body coiling with anticipation. You walk over to where he wanted you, stopping and bowing your head, looking at the floor. “Strip. Slow,” Spencer ordered. You give a small nod and bend down, taking off your socks and dropping them on the floor next to each other. You rise to your feet slowly, your fingers sliding to the hem of your shirt, slowly taking it off your body and then dropping it to the floor. You repeated this until you were completely nude.
 “You look so good, baby. I could just sit and look at your body for days…” Spencer says, trailing off as his caramel irises rake up and down your body, memorizing every inch of it. Your cheeks heat up at that, but you smile shyly. You always liked little praises and compliments like that, especially right now after the day you had. Spencer stood up, stepping to the side. “Lay on the bed, baby. Head and hands by the headboard.” You complied, getting on the bed and laying down, your head resting on a pillow by the headboard, your hands stretched up above your head slightly awkwardly. Spencer went to the foot of the bed, grabbing your ankles and pulling you down a little so your arms could extent without any issues. He went over to the dresser, the sound of a drawer opening and then closing filling your ears.
 Spencer came back over, coils of dark purple rope in his hand. “Safe words?” he asked, stopping at the foot of the bed and waiting expectantly.
 “Legacy if I need you to stop completely. Lineage if I need you to pause, slow down, or fix something,” you say from memory (I’m sorry, I’m making up safe words up on the fly).
 “Good. Remember those,” he instructs, his fingers starting to work on the ropes. He restrained you so you were spread eagle, each arm and legs spread and tied to each corner of the bed. He went over to the bedside table, picking up one of the two candle he had burning and lifting it up, dripping some of the wax on his wrist to make sure it wouldn’t burn you and then walking over to the bed, climbing onto it and then straddling your hips. “Ready, baby?” he asked, giving you a small smile.
 “Yes sir.”
 “Good boy,” he praised, tilting the candle and letting the first droplets of wax hit your skin. The feeling of intense hit and the slight burn making you flinch, but you quickly adjusted, basking in the feeling and trying to let your frustration go. You wanted to let go of all your thoughts and slip into a different state of mind. Spencer slowly moved his hand up, dripping the melted wax up you abdomen and to your right pectoral, letting the wax hit right around your nipple but not hitting it directly. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your skin becoming warm and the tingling, burning sensation taking over everything. Spencer stopped, leaning over and taking an old plastic card off the nightstand. He took it to your skin, scraping off the dried wax and then beginning again, dripping the molten wax up your abdomen and then onto your left pectoral.
 You felt goosebumps race up your arms, the sensation of sudden heat and then a small nip of pain as the sudden burn hit your skin in the form of melted wax. Spencer stopped again, scraping the wax off and then moving up your body, dripping wax up your arms, the red substance dripping all over your biceps and forearms. You felt your cock pulse, your arousal building as Spencer methodically sent the addictive tingling sensation up your body over and over again. He did this with all areas of your body except your groin, neck, and face for obvious reasons. By the time he was finished you were achingly hard and needy, your frustrations melting away from you, your only focus being what you were feeling and Spencer.
 “What do you want?” Spencer asked, leaning over you, planting his hands at either side of your head and kissing your neck and throat, sucking softly on the skin. He was going to leave marks, but you didn’t care. You kind of liked it when he marked you. Claimed you. You struggled to find the words, the only response you gave being a whine and the arching of your hips upward. Spencer chuckled, the sound dark and smooth. “No, no, no, baby. Be a good little slut for me and use your words. Come on, baby. Tell me what you want,” he coaxed, his lips sliding down, his teeth nipping your collarbone.
 “W-Want you,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip to contain noises from spilling out of you.
 “You’re going to have to do better than that, you needy little thing. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you,” Spencer teased, one of hands moving down, his fingers sliding down your side. You whimper, your mind trying to piece the words together and then force them from your mouth. “So needy you can’t even tell me what you want… so desperate and helpless… use your grown-up words and tell me what you want. Just tell me. Come on, baby. Be good for me and do what your told.”
 “F-Fuck me, please, sir,” you force out, your words mixing with a whimper as his fingers slide down to your thigh, his nails barely scraping your skin.
 “Good boy,” Spencer praised softly, momentarily taking his hands off you and then scooting down, settling in between your spread legs. He popped the cap of the lube, coating his fingers and then closing the bottle, setting it down beside him carelessly. Two fingers teased your entrance, his fingers barely pressing inside as you relaxed, allowing him more access to you. You threw your head back, closing your eyes as Spencer made quick work of stretching you open. Spencer removed his fingers and then leaned back, taking his shirt off. He climbed off the bed, stripping quickly and then climbing back on the bed, picking up a foil packet. He tore it open, sliding a condom onto his very hard cock and then lining himself up, the tip of his cock barely pressing inside you as he came back over you. “Ready?”
 “Yes sir. Please. I need you so bad,” you rasp, waiting for him in great anticipation. He slowly pushed in, the pleasurable feeling of fullness and pressure making you moan softly.
 “You feel so good around my cock, baby. You’re so perfect. So, so perfect for me,” he praised, slowly pulling back and then pushing back in slowly, his cock hitting deep inside you. He carefully changed his angle, his cock sliding into you and brushing your prostate. That made you moan more, your arms pulling at the restraints. “I love it when you’re like this, needy and helpless underneath me but restrained, only able to take what I give you. It makes me so damn hard. You are so fucking tight, angel, fuck.”
 One of his hands snaked between your bodies, his lube-slicked fingers wrapping around your cock and stroking in a lazy pace. His mouth sealed over yours, claiming you further. You moaned into his mouth, absorbing the feeling of being completely at his mercy, your mind slipping further and further away from the stresses of day to day life and into a place that was completely your own. He fucked you slow and lazily, his mouth always somewhere on your skin, driving you to the brink of ecstasy.
 “Spencer, please…” you breathe.
 “Do you want to cum, angel?” Spencer asked, knowing that was exactly what you wanted, but purposely withholding you from doing so. You nod frantically, trying to thrust up into his hand to no avail. “Show me how bad you want to cum for me, baby. Beg me for it. Show me how desperate you are to cum for me,” he commanded.
 You wasted no time, the need to climax consuming you, your mind deep into subspace, “please, Spencer, please. I want to cum for you. Please. I need it so bad. I want it so, so bad. I can’t take it any longer… please.”
 “Insatiable little minx,” Spencer taunted half-heartedly, still sliding in and out of you slowly, driving you absolutely insane.
 “Spencer please! I c-can’t take anymore. Please. I need to cum so bad. Let me show you how good you make me feel. Please,” you plead, hoping you would say something that would get you your way.
 Spencer’s lips brushed your ear, “who do you belong to, angel?”
 “You. Only you, Spencer. Please,” you answer.
 “Cum for me, baby,” Spencer said, picking up his pace and stroking you perfectly in time with his thrusts, “I want you to cum for me.” You cum on command, moaning his name as he fucked you through your climax, cum shooting onto your abdomen. His fingers snaked down, swiping through your ejaculate and then coming up, his fingers resting on your lips. You grant his fingers entrance, sucking softly and tasting yourself. “Fuck, that’s hot,” Spencer murmured, now motivated to chase his own high. His pace got faster, his thrusts harder as he fucked you senseless, cumming with a final groan of your name.
 He dropped, gently collapsing on top of you and breathing hard. You closed your eyes, panting as you came down from your high. You felt on top of the world, your mind blank. It was like you were floating, the only other thing in your world being Spencer. He was the only one who ever made you feel this good. Spencer peeled himself off you, taking the condom off to dispose of it in the trash can in the attached bathroom. He came back, his fingers untying his knots deftly, freeing your hands. You stretched out, exhaling deeply and opening your eyes, revealing a very satisfied Spencer Reid.
 “Thank you for that. It was just what I needed,” you murmur in appreciation.
 “You’re welcome. Let’s shower and then go to bed. You were already tired when you got home today,” Spencer said softly.
 You get up, following him into the bathroom. Spencer turned on the water and then came back to you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you tightly to him. “I love you,” Spencer whispered into your hair.
 “I love you, too,” you whisper back. You both shower quickly, not wasting anytime dawdling under the water. Spencer had washed you and you had washed him, though, the need for intimacy consuming the both of you. You dried off and brushed your teeth, walking into the bedroom and picking up Spencer’s discarded shirt, slipping it over your head and then snagging some boxers from the dresser, slipping them on and then sliding into bed. Spencer followed, only putting on boxers and leaving everything else. “Can you read to me?” you ask, hope evident in your voice.
 “Of course. What do you want me to read?” Spencer asked.
 “Anything. I just want to listen to you read,” you respond truthfully. Spencer left the room and came back a moment later with a book in his hand. He climbed into bed, propping a pillow behind his back so he could sit up in the bed. You curled into his side, humming your contentment with this arrangement. He started reading some old French novel, translating with ease. You listened to him read, the sound of his voice lolling you gently to sleep.
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mitchmatch24 · 14 hours ago
Best Behavior
(im sorry to those scrolling through a certain tag who must get through a wave of my shit. i’m transferring fics onto this platform. my bad)
Pairing: dom!spencer x male!reader
Warnings: SMUT. L bombs, slight daddy kink, choking, teasing, dom/sub, dom/sub undertones, edging, orgasm delay, degradation, anal sex. let me know if i missed something (cuz i probably did)
A/N: what is my life
Word Count: 3538
Your eyes flittered open, revealing the dark room around you. You heard the telltale jingling of Spencer’s keys in the door. Spencer had been gone all week on a case in Colorado. He had called you when he got the chance, but it wasn’t very often. You were excited he was back, but it was like 2 in the morning. You closed your eyes, listening to sounds of Spencer moving around the apartment you shared. He came down the hall, opening the door to the bedroom and closing it behind him. He was clearly trying to be quiet, although you were already awake. Your body was attuned to his, meaning you could sense him and feel him. You almost always could.
 You heard the light clatter of his shoes on the hardwood and shuffling of clothing before the bed dipped and there was an arm around your bare chest. Spencer’s lips were in your hair, the sound of his breathing making you sigh. You opened your eyes, turning over and then snuggling into his dress shirt clad chest.
 “I missed you,” you mumbled sleepily, feeling his heartbeat under your palm.
 You could sense his smile. “I missed you too, baby. Were you a good boy while daddy was away?” he asked. You instantly knew what mood he was in. Sometimes he slipped into his more dominant persona when cases ended badly or when he felt he needed to reassure himself that he could take care of someone. You didn’t answer, simply nodding as he played with your hair. You exhaled, already feeling happier by his mere presence. “Use your words, little one. Tell me you were a good boy,” he reprimanded, his voice carrying that dominant demeanor, yet it was still gentle. Still soft and comforting.
 “I behaved while you were away. Just missed you,” you murmured, giving him what he wanted. Sometimes you decided it was worth being on your best behavior. This week had been one of those times. Work had been stressful, and the hours had been long. It hadn’t been a particularly good week, either. The stressful weeks seemed 10 times harder when Spencer was gone, but you opted to save your energy and follow his rules.
 “Good boy. I missed having you in my arms. I hate sleeping without you,” he whispered in your hair.
 “Me too. This week sucked, especially without you. Work was hard and so fucking long,” you mutter, frustrated by the very idea of work. You were happy tomorrow was Friday, which meant a weekend, which meant no work for two days.
 “Language,” Spencer admonished.
 “Sorry, daddy,” you snicker, a twinge of brattiness making an appearance.
 Usually Spencer would reprimand you for the attitude, but he seemed to let it go. He was more than likely tired, and jet lagged, meaning he wasn’t in the mood to keep his dominance up. That was fine with you. You were equally as tired. “The team wants to go out tomorrow night. Do you want to go? I know you haven’t them yet and they really want to meet you,” Spencer asked. You perked up a bit, excited by the idea despite your tiredness. You nodded but didn’t offer anything past that. “Are you tired?” he asked, amused.
 “Mmhm… very tired. Shut up so I can sleep,” you answer, grinning into his chest.
 “Excuse me?” he asked, losing his soft edge.
 “I mean, please stop talking so I can sleep, and we can talk in the morning,” you amend quickly, not wanting to set him off.
 “That’s what I thought. I’m going to change clothes. Go to sleep, little boy,” he ordered, his voice soft and gentle again.
 “Good night, daddy,” you murmur.
 “Good night, baby. Sleep well.”
 The next day passed in an odd blur, your focus being on finishing work. You found that if you simply turned all your focus towards working, the day seemed to go by quicker. You said a quick goodbye to your coworkers when 5pm rolled around and then got out of there, driving to the apartment to change clothes. You traded your suit for jeans, a basic gray t-shirt, and a black bomber jacket. A simple look that you could go to a bar or club in. Then you went to doing chores around the apartment, waiting to go out as Spencer got off an hour later than you did and had told you to meet him and his team at the bar.
 When 5:50 rolled around you left, taking the subway to downtown D.C. and walking the rest of the way to the bar Spencer had sent you the address for. You spotted him instantly. Spencer was tall so it wasn’t difficult. You went inside, smiling as you approached Spencer and his team members who were all sitting at a table, talking amongst one another. Spencer smiled at you when he noticed you approached, pulling you into a brief hug and kissing you on the side of the head.
 “Hey,” he greeted, a broad grin on his face.
 “Hey yourself,” you said back, reciprocating his smile.
  He turned his attention to the rest of the people watching the two of you, broad grins on all their faces at the sight of you both. “Y/n, this is Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau but we call her JJ, Aaron Hotchner, and David Rossi. Team this is Y/n Y/l/n. My boyfriend,” Spencer said confidently, a hint of pride in his voice as he said the last bit.
 You extended your hand to the large and incredibly good-looking black man who had been introduced as Derek Morgan, shaking his hand. “Derek. Nice to meet you, man. Spencer has told us a lot about you,” he said with a toothy smile.
 You laughed, “I hope that’s a good thing.” You shook hands with everyone, greeting them and making a bit of small talk.
 “Shots? Anyone?” Emily asked, looking at JJ and Penelope and then to you, her eyebrows raised. You shook your head, declining the offer. Spencer did the same, linking his fingers with yours as you watched the others, not saying much as they had a conversation.
 You leaned over to say something to Spencer, your voice fighting the music, “I’m going to get a drink. Be right back.” He looks at you and nods, releasing your hand and watching you walk away for a split second before turning his attention back to his friends. You walk to the bar, patiently waiting for a chance to flag down the bartender. You unconsciously zoned in on a conversation behind you, listening to the conversation.
 “No, please just leave me alone. I’m not looking for a date,” a woman said, making you turn your head to see what was happening.
 “Ohhh come on, darlin’. Loosen up, hm?” A man leered, making you scowl.
  You think on your feet, abandoning your spot at the bar and stepping behind the woman. “She said to leave her alone, man. Back off and go find someone else,” you say authoritatively, positioning yourself between the two and protecting the woman who looked thoroughly freaked out.
 “And why should I? Get out of the way, bitch,” he spits, trying to shake you.
 You double down, not letting him have an inch. “Because she said no, now back off before I break your god damn jaw,” you snarl, making him mutter something under his breath and walk away. You turn back around, giving a small smile to the woman you were protecting. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to try anything,” you say.
 The woman smiles, “no, no. I appreciate it. Can I buy you a drink out of thanks?”
 You shake your head, “no need. Have a good evening.” With that you take a different spot by the bar, flagging the bartender down and ordering a drink. Within 5 minutes your making your way back over to Spencer and the rest if his team, or what’s left of it anyway. He seems to be talking with David Rossi, focused on his conversation. You can’t help but marvel in the way he looks, his face lighting up when he gets truly passionate and excited about things. You take a stance by his side, smiling at him and listening to his conversation.
 “How was your day?” Spencer asked, turning his attention to you.
 “Oh, it was just long. Although I think I just made a woman’s night,” you say, a bewildered look on your face.
 There was a razor edge to Spencer’s voice when he asked, “and how did you make her night?” You realize how you came off and scrambled to explain, not wanting to make Spencer jealous. Sometimes it was fun, but tonight you weren’t in the mood. You were supposed to be on your best behavior, so to speak.
 “Oh no, no, no. Not like that. Some guy wanted to get into her pants and kept bugging her, so I stepped in and scared him off. He was just being a dick,” you explain, waving it off.
 Spencer nods, understanding what you had meant and smiling, “that was very nice of you, y/n.” He leaned down, lowering his voice so only you could hear what he was saying, “daddy will have to reward you later for being so good. Well, as long as you continue to behave, that is.” Your eyes widen but you nod, absolutely ok with that plan. Didn’t have to tell you twice.
 By the time the night wound down, you were still fairly sober. You had opted to take it easy on the drinks because Spencer would more than likely want to rip your clothes off when you both got home. You took the train back to the apartment, walking with your hands linked together and laughing as Spencer made some dry physics joke. You rested your head on his shoulder in the elevator and walked next to him to your door. As you were unlocking it he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear, “go inside and go to the bedroom and strip. I want you naked on top of the bed when I get in there.”
 You nod but he grips your hips, stopping you from opening the door and entering your shared apartment. “Excuse me?” he asks, and you instantly know what he wants.
 “Ok, daddy,” you say innocently, stepping inside as he releases you. You hear him say “that’s better” as you move down the hallway, ripping clothes off as you went and leaving them like a trail down the hall. When you enter the bedroom, you strip your boxers off and flop on the bed, moving up to lay your head on the pillows and waiting. And waiting. And waiting some more. You think about getting up and going to find him, confused as to what’s taking him so long. You were concerned he had hurt himself but the telltale footsteps moving down the hall discouraged you and you laid in wait patiently.
 “Good boy,” Spencer praises when he steps into the bedroom to find that you followed his instructions perfectly. You look at him, finding his hazel eyes dilated, his face twisted as his arousal grew. You were hard in an instant, his lips twitching as he resisted the urge to smile arrogantly at you. “Are you going to be a good boy and do everything your told?” he asks, his tone somewhat teasing.
 “Yes sir,” you reply, your eyes watching his rake down your body.
 “Good,” Spencer said, his fingers going to the buttons of his vest and unbuttoning them deftly. He shrugged it off slowly, walking to his closet and opening it, hanging it up. He kept himself at the door of the walk-in closet, giving you perfect view of him as he stripped down into nothing but his boxer briefs. While Spencer wasn’t very bulky, he was still muscular, the slight definition of his abs making your mouth water for him. You silently thanked god that he was attracted to men and that out of everyone in the world he wanted you.
 He sauntered over to the bedside, the gears in his mind turning as he decided what he wanted to do with you. He pointed to the available space on the bed in front of him, explaining what he wanted, “on your back, your head towards me.” You understood what he wanted. He wanted to fuck your throat as deep as he could possibly get. You weren’t complaining; you were more than willing to suck Spencer off to no tomorrow. You scrambled into position quickly, scooting up so your head was hanging over the edge of the bed just a little to get a better angle. “Safe word?” Spencer asked. Safety always came first between the two of you. Either of you could safe word out of something intense at anytime and neither one of you would be upset at the other.
 “And if you can’t talk?”
 “Snap twice for slow down, three times for stop completely,” you say. Spencer lets out a breath of approval, already palming himself through his dark purple boxer briefs that accentuated every inch of his glorious body. You knew he was teasing you by deliberately making you wait. If not for him standing there, you would have stroking your aching dick already.
 “What do you want, baby?” Spencer asks.
 You smirk, knowing exactly what to say to get a small rise out of him. You had been good all night. Now you wanted to loosen his control. “I want your cock down my throat,” you say with a hint of attitude. His hand came down across your cheek quickly, a small sting left in its wake.
 “Watch your mouth. You said you’d be a good boy for daddy, y/n. If you’re not, I’m not going to give you what you want. Now tell me again. What do you want?” Spencer warned, not letting his control slip for a second.
 You know he’s serious. He will deny you. He’s done it before. You drop the attitude immediately, too needy and aroused to push your luck. “Can I please have your cock, daddy? Please?” you beg.
 “That’s better. Of course you can, baby,” Spencer cooed, hiding his arrogance. He pulled his boxers off, kicking them to the side and stepping in front of you, sliding the tip of his cock over your lips. You open your mouth, letting his slide in a fraction of the way. Spencer moaned, his hands slipping into your hair at the side of your head and gripping tightly. “Fuck… I missed your mouth. You suck my cock so fucking well. And you love it, don’t you? Such a whore for me. Only for me,” Spencer gritted out. You licked the underside of his shaft, hollowing your cheeks and drawing out another moan from his mouth. He slid in deeper, thrusting into your mouth with shallow thrusts.
 Your fingers knotted into the comforter, gripping them with white knuckle force as you resisted the urge to start stroking yourself. You were achingly hard, precum already leaking out of you. You moaned around his cock, enjoying this as much as he was. “Fuck this,” Spencer breathed, his hips suddenly snapping forward, the tip of his cock pressing against the back of your throat. You instinctively swallowed around him, gagging lightly. Spencer stroked two fingers over to column of your throat, feeling his cock press against it through your skin. A dark laugh left his chest, your cock twitching at the sound. “Look at you… hard and needy simply from taking my cock down your throat. That’s all it takes to get you off. You just need my dick in your mouth. God… such a dirty fucking slut for me. That’s it, baby. Take it all. Fucking choke on it.”
 If you didn’t know any better, you would have cum from that litany of words alone. He pulled out suddenly, his hand going to the bedside drawer and opening it, fumbling with the contents. “Hands and knees,” Spencer ordered briskly. You flipped over and got into the position he wanted quickly, your chest heaving as you took in air. Sweat misted your skin, arousal heavy in the air. You heard the sound of a cap snapping open and then two fingers were inside you, a hiss of breath escaping from in between your teeth at the sudden burn. The burn dissipated quickly, Spencer’s long fingers scissoring and stretching you open. The tips of his fingers suddenly stroked over your prostate, making you jump slightly and moan out of immense pleasure.
 A third finger slipped inside you, working you open quickly. You could feel his patience slipping away as he grew even more aroused. “What do you want?” Spencer asked, his voice thick and husky with his own want.
 “I want you inside me. Please,” you plead shamelessly, “please. I need you inside me.”
 “Since you asked so nicely,” Spencer teased, removing his fingers and thrusting inside you in one quick move. You moaned, the sound loud and downright pornographic. He wasted no time, his fingers digging into your waist to the point you would bruise as he pulled you back into him to meet every thrust. Moans spilled from your throat, mixing with his moans and obscenities. “Christ, y/n. You’re so fucking tight. You take my cock so well, baby.” He shifted, changing his angle just slightly and then thrusting forward, his cock hammering right into your sweet spot, making you keen and groan from pleasure.
 He pulled back and then pushed in roughly, hitting that spot again and again, driving you to the edge with expert skill. “F-Fuck, Sp-Spencer please. I can’t fucking take it,” you pant out, your eyes closing and your body shuddering as you fought orgasm. He hadn’t given you permission to cum yet.
 Spencer wrapped his arm around you, pulling you up and back into his chest, his mouth by your ear. “I don’t fucking care, baby. You’re going to take my cock as long as I fucking give it to you. This is what you wanted, so this is what you get, whore,” he growled. You whimpered, his cock pounding into you at a merciless pace. His other hand came around, finding the sides of your throat and squeezing, cutting off your blood flow. You could feel him smirking against your skin, arrogance radiating off him as he fucked you. He kept squeezing, black dots speckling your vision as the euphoric high set in, mixing with your building climax.
 He let go of your throat, letting blood flow properly again, his thrusts getting impossibly faster and harder. You thought you might actually break from the amount of pleasure coursing through your body. His lips were on your throat, sucking and biting, leaving marks that screamed his dominance over you. “You like that don’t you, slut? You like it when daddy squeezes that pretty throat of yours and fucks you?” he growled, his hand finally wrapping around your dick and stroking harshly, “No need to even answer. I know you fucking love it. You love it when I lose my mind every time I slip inside this tight body of yours and fuck you fast and hard.”
 “Yes,” you breathe out, closing your eyes again as you fight to stay on the edge of climax without toppling over.
 “Yes what, whore?” he spat, another hard stroke nearly making you cum.
 “Yes, daddy. Please, I need to cum. Can I cum? Please?” you ask, your restraint starting to slip. You weren’t going to last much longer.
 “You can take it. Just a little longer, baby. Then you can cum. Just take my cock inside you a little longer,” he commanded. The hand at your throat started squeezing again, cutting off blood flow once again. Sweat was dripping off your body, your entire body shaking as you barely held yourself together. He released your throat from his grip, his hand sliding down and splaying again your stomach, holding you tightly to him. His thrusts starting to stutter, his orgasm close to consuming him. “I’m gonna cum and you’re going to cum at the same time as me, ok baby?”
 You nodded frantically, a labored breath leaving you as he stroked you faster. He thrust inside you a few more times before saying, “cum.” He held himself inside you, cumming while you came at the same time, shooting thick ribbons of cum all over his hand. Both of you were panting and dripping sweat, his head resting on your shoulder as you both rode out orgasm.
 “God…” you breathed.
 Spencer chuckled; his breathing still hard. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You were so good for me. So good. You’re so perfect. Christ, I love you, y/n,” Spencer murmured against you skin, his lips brushing over your ear.
 You smiled, feeling thoroughly worn out. “I love you too, Spencer. Can we please… can we please clean up now? I am so tired.”
 Spencer laughed, pulling out as he went soft. “Let’s clean you up and get you into bed,” Spencer said softly.
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