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eyesthecolorofarson · 3 months

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Soul healing

Damian was angry.

He was one of their best fighters, knew the layout of Arkham like the back of his hand, AND was on good terms with both Riddler and Ivy! Why wasn’t he allowed to help in the breakout? What was the point of making him babysit!?!

Father had said he was to keep the child safe but he’d neglected to say why. And honestly, the child was three months old. Who would be hunting down an infant, why would they be hunting down an infant, and what would they do with an infant? If anyone was after the child, that is.

The infant in question was babbling incoherently and rolling around on her stomach. She squealed and he huffed. All he knew about her was the information in her file, which was surprisingly little. Three months old, no name and orphaned, she was of Brazilian heritage and her blood tests located her place of origin as Blüdhaven. She was moved to Gotham to be fostered, which is one of the stupidest decisions he’s ever heard of.

The foster parent in question was Daniel ‘Danny’ Nightingale. Nightingale showed incredible intelligence, graduating upper primary school two years early and high school in two. Currently a student at Gotham University Nightingale was double majoring in chemistry and aerospace engineering when he decided to apply for a New Jersey foster license, which he was given due to already having one in both Wisconsin and Ohio as well as his incredible record.

Nightingale was in the room with him and the infant. He was 14 years of age and had short black hair much like himself, but Nightingale was disturbingly pale and had almost ultramarine blue eyes. Nightingale was sitting with the child in front of his place on the couch. There was a gate in a circle connected to each end of the couch that contained a multitude of children’s toys and a few books. The infant was currently playing with a keychain-like toy while Nightingale entertained her.

One part of him wanted to sit and stew in his contempt, but the other, the son of the Bat, was deeply curious. What was so special about this child that it warranted him–an Al Ghul, Robin, heir to the mantle of Bat and Demons Throne–to act as bodyguard? Was it her heritage—correction, what was her heritage, because there was no other reason for her to be hunted. What else could it possibly be?

But when he began paying attention to the infant, it made him realize that the child was not the oddity he was sent to watch, but Nightingale. Nightingale acted normal for the most part, but when the infant made a certain sound–a loud shriek–his pupils would retract and slit before expanding again, like a cats. That wasn’t the oddest thing he noticed.

Nightingales teeth were sharp, and the more he babbled and cooed at the infant the more teeth Damian could see. It appeared all his teeth were canines except for the teeth in the normal place for canines. Those four teeth were long and thin, like a vipers. When the light hit his eyes his pupils shimmered, like a cat or an owls. His ears, which were slightly pointy, twitched every now and then. His nails were noticeably sharp as well, and his voice would sometimes distort. As if a record player were malfunctioning. And the infant would respond! Respond in that same distorted tongue. That loud shriek would turn into a two second wail that made his heartbeat rise to his ears and his vision blur. Then she would giggle or coo and it would end. He had to do something. Those wails were coming more and more often now, and she was starting to lose shape.

“What is this?�� Damian snapped. “Don’t worry,” Nightingale told him gently, “this is normal for her species.” He blinked and processed his words. Species. She wasn’t human. “I’m surprised the Bat picked up on it,” Nightingale continued, “Humans aren’t usually susceptible to this sort of thing. But I also sorta expected it? Because he’s, y’know, Batman.”

Nightingale smiled sweetly as she shrieked again, her outline blurring and walls shaking. He could feel his teeth rattling in his head. Suddenly Nightingales jaw unhinged with a quick clicking sound, as if his bones were straining and breaking, and an even louder whistle-hissing sound came from between his now many, many teeth. She stopped, her mouth in an ‘O’ and her eyes wide. He didn’t notice before, but an infant her age shouldn’t have teeth. Especially that sharp. And her eyes were a light yellow color, like straw.

Then she giggled, and began babbling like she didn’t just use a sonic voice ability similar to Black Canary’s. “Dawww,” Nightingale cooed, tickling her, “she’s developing quickly! Garalings usually only start fawning when they start walking.” Damian watched warily. He didn’t want to get any closer, in all honesty. His ears were ringing.

But he was curious, so, so, curious. What was a Garaling? What was fawning and why did they do it after they began walking? Could all Garalings do this ‘fawning’? Compared to other Garalings, exactly how fast is she developing? Is early development common?

Start with the most important. “What is a ‘Garaling’?” Nightingale smiled at him again. “Garalings are an extradimensional species that reside in a place called The Valley. They act as lords of nature and patrons of a chosen plant or animal. Her fawning,” he tapped her nose and she giggled, “will soon turn into either an animal sound or a sound of her own.”

“Fascinating,” he muttered, “is it an attack?” “More like a call to arms,” Nightingale leaned back, relaxed, as the infant shook her toy. “Gathering her chosen animal or plant for whatever she needs.” Damian watched her chew on the toy, drooling and babbling.

“What are you?” “I’m dead. Well, sort of. How to explain this…” He thought for a moment. “Think of me….as the line between life and death, but not exactly limbo. More like I move the line. Sometimes more dead, and sometimes more alive. But always a bit of both.” Damian couldn’t help but be reminded of Todd. And himself.

“Your not from this earth.” Nightingale smiled sadly. “I used to be. But not anymore. Even so I can’t bring myself to fully leave, though I probably should.” “Why? What makes you stay?” Nightingales eyes drifted away, back to the infant. “I want to continue the life I never got to finish. Experience the things I never got to experience. Do what I always wanted to do, even if it’s too late.”

He could understand that. Nightingale looked to be his age. To be ripped from life so soon was something he worried about constantly. Knowing that Nightingale was…..He understood wanting to stay, to pretend to be alive.

“What brought her here?” Nightingales face tightened. “Cultists.” He sounded annoyed. “They exist in every world and their always fond of sacrificing children. Even though my summons specifically say if I’m offered children or anyone unwilling I’ll destroy the cult.” It took Damian a moment to understand the implications.

“….who are you?” Nightingale smiled at him again, and for a second his outline wavered like the infants had. “I am Danny Phantom, High King of the Infinite Realms, the afterlife dimension. I rule over everything and everyone who’s died, if they’ve stayed dead or not. I am The Warm Winter, The Space Between, The Brightest Star. I act as Defender Of The Undead.”

“And what do you plan on doing with her? Why did you take her if you do not accept living offerings?” It was suspicious. Even though Nightingale–Phantoms titles painted him as benevolent, and his stance on sacrifice was very pacifistic, Damian knew better than to trust him just on those facts alone.

But he was being very honest, and it made him wonder why. Compared to Phantom, he was microscopic, a nuisance even. Why was he answering all his questions with seemingly endless transparency? “Because her parents were apart of the cult that offered her, which is unfortunately a common case. I had to bring her here because I already have another offering child going to school here.”

“Another?” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “How many children have you kept?” He suddenly had a feeling. Not a bad one, just…a feeling. Phantom thought for a moment. “Well the first was Sirius, she’s from a dimension where people are made completely out of star matter. She doesn't live with me anymore since she’s all grown up now, but she’s a really popular singer in the Realms! I can see if she set up her inter dimensional and universal site, her music is great!”

“Casey is my second, he was offered when he was about ten and he’s from a universe that’s essentially the same as this one but everyone has magic. He’s currently in his home dimension in school as well. He specializes in hydrokinese but he’s trying to learn Essokineses. He’s a really quick learner but has a tendency to either give zero or a hundred, no in between.”

“A few months after that I was offered a pair of twins in their twenties. Well, they were built to look to be in their twenties, their actual age is, as of now, seven. Their from a world where hyper realistic androids have no rights and are destroyed if they develop sentience, so when they did they were offered to me because they thought it would get through my rule. They named themselves Poppy and Posies. They don’t like to leave the Realm so their being homeschooled. They really enjoy learning and playing, and Poppy’s favorite thing to do is dance and Posies is jewelry making.”

“I got another infant from a dimension where everyone’s a centaur a few weeks ago. I named her Amaranthe and her lower half’s a sheep! She’s so cute. She’s not the best at walking yet but she loves jumping whenever she can. She likes playing perk-a-boo with the handmaidens. And the child going here is Aiden, he was offered a few months ago. He was originally from Kentucky but everyone in his hometown was apart of the cult and Lady Gotham likes me so we’re here now. He’s still rattled but being on earth helps him so he can stay as long as he likes. He wants to get into a trade school.”

“And this—“ Phantom tapped the infant on the nose, who giggled and grabbed his finger. “Is Velvet! Like I said she’s a Garaling from The Valley. I literally got her two weeks ago so her fake identity is pretty rushed and I think Batman could tell which is why you’re here. But I need to be here for Aiden, so she’s probably going to stay with me for at least another four weeks or until her room in the Realms is ready.”

“You have an adoption problem,” He groaned. God forbid his Father learn about this even though he knew he had to show him the footage being collected from his mask. Phantom laughed. “Probably. But it’s not like I could just give them away to someone else. Well, I could. But I don’t want to. I don’t have any family other than my sister, and she’s still alive. So it’s nice to have people running around the castle.”

He respected it. Even though he was suspecting Phantom was older than he appeared, his physical appearance was probably the age he died at, he was still going out of his way to take in not only traumatized adults and children but infants. He’d never dealt with infants but he had no doubt that they were a handful, even though Phantom said he had handmaidens he didn’t seem like the type to let them do everything.

“Have you had any problems with vigilantes such as myself? I know Batman can be quite forceful and rude if he encounters something he does not understand.” Phantom allowed Velvet to shake his fingers with surprising strength. “Nope! I’m very good at staying under the radar. That’s why I was so surprised when Batman sent you. Like I said, humans aren’t usually capable of picking up on things like the undead. But it’s probably that contaminated ecto you and him are covered in. Can I ask you about that, by the way?”

Contaminated Ecto? “Whatever do you mean by ‘contaminated’? What is this ecto?” Phantom held his hand up and Damian watched, fascinated and horrified, as Lazarus water bled from his skin and rose into a ball. “This is ectoplasm! Every ghost is made of it. It’s our blood, flesh and atoms all in one. Judging by the look on your face you’ve seen it before?”

Damian cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Uh, yes. We call it Lazarus water, and it comes from Lazarus Pits.” Phantoms eyes narrowed. “Pits? Like, a natural or artificial hole in the ground? It doesn’t move or flow in and out? It just sits there?” Damian told him yes and explained the way the League used the Pits, the effects of being revived or healed by the water. By the end Phantoms carefree attitude had left and in its place was someone who held himself like a king.

“Let me put Velvet to bed.” He waved his hand and the gate and various toys began to float and put themselves away as he picked up Velvet and walked away. He was alone for a few minutes, watching as the toys stacked neatly in a toy box and thinking. There was a whole species of people made out of Lazarus Water. Ectoplasm. Pure ectoplasm. What he’d experienced, had contact with, was apparently so corrupted that Phantom had noticed it.

Phantom came back and sat next to him, running a hand through his hair. “Ok, so; ectoplasm has a mind of its own. It connects with and enhances emotions. That’s why a lot of ghosts are angry or sad. Because the ectoplasm connects with the feelings they had when they were dying, and that’s why ghosts are so emotional. It’s all we’re made of. Some people don’t become ghosts but their emotions do. We call those blob ghosts.”

Phantom looked disturbed. “Ectoplasm can’t just sit there or else it’ll start to deteriorate, mold. It’ll become poisonous, borderline radioactive. It needs to be moving and connected with more ectoplasm to filter it out. Yes it does having insane healing properties but it’s not supposed to hurt you. Never supposed to hurt you. Again it has a mind of its own. Most ectoplasm wants to create new life, heal and help. If this Lazarus water is hurting people, it’s because it wants to. And that’s really, really bad.”

“You said it was boiling?” Damian nodded. “That’s also not good. Ectoplasm is supposed to be cold. That’s why most people who contact ghosts feel cold or the temperature drop. I’ve never heard of ectoplasm boiling before.” Phantom looked very troubled. “You said these pools are controlled by the League of Assassins?” At his nod he waved his hand and a small white circle appeared next to him.

Through the circle he could see only what appeared to be a bookshelf. Phantom traced the spine of a few before pulling one out and closing the circle, flipping through the book. Damian leaned over to read. It seemed to be a list of people. At first he didn’t recognize them, but then the name The Sensei appeared at the top of a page labeled ‘The Demons-Al Ghul’

It was a family tree. One he’d seen and studied more than a million times. It showed his ancestors, great grandfather, Ra’s, his Mother, Dusan, Nyssa, even Mara and I’son. And him. Phantom pointed at his name. “Is this you?” He swallowed.

There wasn’t any real point in lying. He already knew, but if his Father found out he’d get in trouble despite the recording showing Phantom had figured it out himself. “Uh, yes. Yes it is.” Phantom nodded then flipped more pages before coming across a map. He folded the page out and Damian saw it was seven small but detailed maps. Maps of the locations of the Pits.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, “Phantom you can not let anyone find this book. If this got into the wrong hands—“ Phantom laughed. “Don’t worry, Damian. These kinds of books are only in the castle library. No one other than me and my family can get in there.” He flipped through a few more pages before coming across one with a sketch of the Lazarus Pits. Phantoms eyes scanned the pages quickly, growing more concerned the more he read.

“Do you have any of these symptoms? The anger, lost time and enhancement?” Damian bit his lip. “I…used to. The Pit rage and blackouts faded after time and I have no enhancement that I know of. But, one of my brothers, Jason Todd…” Phantom muttered the name, opening another circle and pulling out another book. He flipped through it quicker than before and pointed at a page near the back.

“Jason Peter Todd-Wayne?” Damian nodded. Phantom sighed again. “He’s a revenant, an angry spirit that was put to rest and then forced back into life. It’s no wonder these symptoms stuck with him; this Pit probably attached itself to his barely formed core. It’s a miracle his body’s still functioning.”

“What’s a core?” Damian leaned over and red more names in the book, all unrecognizable. “A core is a ghosts soul. Each core has a sort of unique elemental power or structure to them. I have an ice core.” Phantom opened his hand and Damian watched as wisps of ice and snow rose out of his palm.

“Ok, so; a ghosts age depends on how long they’ve been dead for and how developed their core is. So someone who dies at a hundred will suddenly become a newborn ghost. Ghosts get more powerful with time, and depending on how violently they died they might become newborn ghosts who are already really powerful. I was one of those instances.”

Phantom opened another circle and pulled out another book. “Every new ghost will usually search for or be found by an older ghost who’ll become their caretaker or ‘parent’. These ghosts are supposed to teach the new ghosts about their powers, what type of ghost they are, how their religious beliefs will affect their afterlife. I had a really, really old ghost named Clockwork.”

Phantom flipped through the pages again and showed him one. It seemed to be a medical diagram of a ghost. It was fascinating; they didn’t appear to have muscles or organs, but rather this core acted as not only their stomach and heart but their brain. In fact their whole body seemed to be one big vein, the whole thing circulating this ectoplasm throughout it.

“Finding a new ‘parent’ is really, really important. Like I said before ghosts are nothing but emotions. So when we get lonely, it’s like a major depressive episode. We start hurting ourselves and others, we do things that go against our beliefs or moral codes, we do anything to bring any sort of attention to ourselves. Is this similar to anything Jason went through after being forced back?”

“I believe so? I don’t know what he was really thinking, but he definitely did horrible things that he would never have done before.” Damian didn’t miss the wording Phantom used. Forced. Todd didn’t come back to life, he was dragged back. Ra’s wanted to come back, his Father wanted to come back, he wanted to come back. But Todd had been put to rest somehow. Todd had moved on.

“If Todd had moved on before being forced back, why would he react so violently? If he’d been at peace, why all the anger?” Phantom closed the book and pulled out another, flipping through it to another diagram, but this time it was of a core. It was cut up the way he’d seen cells be in schoolbooks. “I honestly don’t entirely know, and I would have to see Jason or take him to one of my doctor's, but I think it’s because of the Pit.”

“As I said, ectoplasm is slightly sentient. But if this Lazarus water is working the same way normal ectoplasm does but maliciously, then Jason’s entire core might be made out of this corrupt ecto. It might have connected with one of his dying feelings, anger, and blew it out of proportion.” Damian bit the inside of his cheek. Todd would not be happy to learn his new soul is made out of mold and corruption. He’d take it the completely wrong way.

“How would we fix something like this? If a core is every organ, how would we get rid of the Lazarus water his very soul is now made of?” Phantom thought again. “Maybe we could flush it? Like, get him pills or an IV of pure ectoplasm and try to push it out. I don’t really know, but I know a doctor who might.” Damian hesitated before speaking again.

“…Would the Lazarus water fight back? Is it sentient enough to do that? What if by doing this it inadvertently harms him?” Phantoms made a displeased sound. He snapped the book closed and put it back in the portal before turning to him. “I don’t know, but I can find out. The book said there’s one of theses Pits in the Batcave, is that true?” He saw where this was going.

“My father would never let you in,” he started, “But you can bring me some.” Phantom finished. “I can get you some transport-safe tubes from one of my doctors, and they can look it over and find out how it works. If we find out a way to purify it, we may be able to use that to purify all the pits.” It was optimistic, but hell, he could use some hope in his life. And if he got caught, the mask footage would be his saving grace.

“If it is for the purpose of curing Todd of his Pit madness, then I will do whatever needs to be done. Where will you get these containers?” Phantom smiled and opened another portal, this time showing what looked like a laboratory table filled with beakers and containers with a green tint. Phantom grabbed five vials with stoppers and tongs. He handed them to him, and then grabbed a rack and gave him that as well.

“Want me to open one to the Batcave?” “If you wouldn’t mind.” That’ll make it far easier to get to and from, and lessen his chances of getting caught. Phantom stood and opened a much larger white circle, and it showed the closely guarded Lazarus Pit that was deep in the cave. He quickly filled the vials and went back in the apartment. “What now?” Phantom secured the tops with ice before replying, “Now I take this to the Far Frozen. That’s where the best doctors in the Infinite Realms are, they’re a group of Yetis.”

“How long will it take you? How long will it take for them to test it?” “I don’t know,” Phantom opened a larger portal, showing a frozen tundra. There seemed to be a large cave of ice in the distance. “But I’ll be back as soon as possible. We’ll find a way to get rid of the Lazarus Pits, and purify your brother. I promise.” He said it with such certainty and confidence that for a second Damian fully believed him.

In a flash of white Phantom’s hair had turned a snow white and his eyes Lazarus–ectoplasm green. He was wearing a black suit similar to a superhero’s with white gloves and boots, and he had what looked to be a crown of northern lights. He had a white cape that’s inside showed stars, and the absolute power he radiated almost knocked Damian down. Phantom smiled at him, reassuringly and calm, then stepped into the portal. It closed without a sound, and Damian was left with his thoughts.

#damian wayne x danny fenton #damian x danny #dead serious #ghost king danny #dc x dp crossover #damian wayne #danny phantom #Aw hell yeah WORLDBUILDING BABY #No dead serious in the actual mini fic but I wanted it to be an endgame #I might continue this? But you totally can if you want!#Please continue this #I have #So many fics

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midnightcrw · 4 months

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"What does that even mean?" Simon asked himself as he sat on the couch looking at his phone with a frown on his face.

Gaz and Soap really love to use abbreviations and Simon was more than struggling to find out what it even meant as he slowly typed it into the search list.

Normally he would have asked you what it meant, but you were out buying groceries, so he was all alone trying to figure out what nonsense Gaz and Soap were typing into the group chat.

Simon was more than sure that Price didn't know what they were talking about either, but Price never even typed into the chat unless Soap was awake in the middle of the night out of boredom, asking them all sorts of stupid questions.

As Simon struggled to find the meaning of the abbreviation, he heard faint cooing.

Not really paying attention, Simon was sure Daisy was just playing with one of the stuffed animals the TF141 had given her.

But as the seconds passed, the cooing got louder as he slowly looked away from his phone until he found two big doe eyes staring back at him.

Seeing Daisy, Simon just relaxed, but looked up abruptly when he realized she was crawling towards him.

The phone was immediately put down as he grabbed Daisy and held her up to give her kisses all over her tiny face as she giggled, "Learning to crawl, Daisy?"

As if understanding what her father had just said, she began to squeal in glee, her arms and legs moving up and down in excitement as Simon chuckled.

With an idea in his head, Simon carefully set Daisy down, her eyes following him as he backed away until he was far enough away from her.

With that, Simon crouched down as he held his arms out to her, "Come here, Daisy," he said in a loving tone as Daisy seemed to get excited as she crawled towards him.

Seeing her move made Simon's face light up with happiness and as she slowly approached him, Simon pulled Daisy towards him and embraced her in his big arms "I'm so proud of you," he told her as she cooed.

Simon was more than eager to show you what Daisy had learned in such a short time.

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mrs-weasley-reid · 1 month

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Tricky Blunder

Spencer Reid x bau!reader | part 2

part 1

Summary: Mistakes always reveal what the heart really craves. And Spencer wasn't an exception as he desperately makes things right with you.

Warning: a sprinkle of angst and a cup of fluff

A/N: had two drafts, but this made the most sense in my head.

not my gif ctto :)

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

You gave Spencer a curt nod, "Hey."

Spencer's chest tinged at the sight of your smile. The kind of smile that gave him the impression that you two were absolutely fine and back to normal.

Hotch invited you to assist on the case that's been keeping the entire BAU team stressed out for the past three days. He thought you'd be a great help in increasing the team's morale and, of course, on the case.

Spencer took your arrival as a good sign. It has only been a month since you left the BAU. Maybe you'd change your mind and come back to the team. Besides, you wouldn't have joined them if you were still mad at him, right?

He thought he was getting ahead of himself. He knew he was getting ahead of himself. Taking the tiniest detail of your simple nod and civil smile into a desperate hope.

Your last exchange has been eating Spencer alive. The fallout repeatedly played out inside his head over and over in hopes that he could change the ending. He couldn't. Even an average person knew that they could never change what's been done.

You, on the other hand, did not dwell on your interaction with Spencer. In fact, as soon as you gave him some sort of acknowledgment, you immediately jumped in on a conversation with Emily. You were only being polite. It was in your nature.

If you were given the chance to boast, you would've said Hotch was almost begging you to help with the case. But you kept the idea to yourself and arrived with fresh sets of eyes. After all, the case specifically needed your specialty: human trafficking and victimology.

And fresh sets of eyes, you did bring.

While the others were occupied giving you a warm welcome, an arm suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, taking everyone by surprise, Spencer the most.

"I barely found parking," A man said to you in almost a whisper but loud enough for everyone to hear and gawk about.

Your eyebrows narrowed, "You're an FBI agent. How hard could it be to show your badge and get a spot?" You queried, forgetting about an entire team right in front of you.

The man grinned, "I wanted to prove I could find a spot without my toy." He spoke with you with such ease, as if you've known each other for years.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. If you only weren't in public, you would've smacked your forehead from the utter disbelief you felt. That's when you remembered that it wasn't just the two of you.

"Oh, shoot! I mean…" You gestured at the man next to you, "Guys, meet Agent Ezekiel." You went on to briefly explain that you offered Hotch another pair of hands to help with the case, thus the agent's appearance.

Although you were clear about Ezekiel's purpose, everyone couldn't help but take note of his arm around you. The only man they saw wrap their arm around your shoulders was Emily during an undercover operation, where she pretended to be a guy.

Spencer was not a fan.

"And Zeke, meet the behavioral analysis unit. Agents Hotchner, Rossi, Jareau, Prentiss, Morgan, and… Dr. Reid." You introduced them accordingly, paying attention to each one of the agents.

"Mr. Genius! Nice to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you." Ezekiel exclaimed, stretching a hand out to Spencer.

Spencer stared at the hand in front of him, "Clearly not enough." He lifted his hands out of his back pockets only to transfer them to the front pockets. "And it's Dr. Reid."

He couldn't help but shift his focus between you and the obnoxious arm on your shoulders. He wasn't exactly certain why he was feeling that way. He guessed it had something to do with the fact that he didn't get the chance to speak with you.

Ezekiel looked at his hand and retracted it with a shrug. He leaned against you, "You said he was fun." His face was of pure confusion.

You lightly shoved his face away from you, removing his arm on your shoulders in the process. "I promise, he's more helpful than he looks." You had the mistake of looking at Spencer as you spoke with a playful smile, immediately diverting your gaze to anyone else but him.

The reflexive habit was still present. You always had a knack for aiming for Spencer's approval of your humor. After years of trying to make him laugh in spite of feeling depressed about Maeve, adjusting your humor to align with his became second nature.

Spencer found himself smiling a bit at the millisecond of attention you gave him. He missed it. He missed you.

If the universe was giving him a sign, you standing in front of him was one big slap of a sign. This was his chance to make things right with you.

He'd do anything to make it up to you.

His first attempt was to join any conversation you had with anyone on the team. He tried. He really tried to get your attention, but somehow, before he could even breathe a word out, Ezekiel pops out of nowhere and takes up all your attention.

"Why can't you do it yourself?" You groaned yet stood up from your seat. Spencer wished you didn't.

Ezekiel ruffled your hair, "Less complaining, more doing. You lost the bet, remember?" He laughed, leaning against his seat.

Derek swore he saw Spencer's eye twitch inside out after seeing Ezekiel ruffle your hair.

You stomped out of the conference room, mumbling, "Stupid bet," under your throat.

"You would've beaten Morgan up if he asked you the same thing."

You jumped out of shock, spilling a bit of the hot water on the counter. Spencer followed you out, standing awkwardly next to you. You silently wiped the water off the counter and quickly stirred the cup.

With one last tap of the spoon on the edge of the cup, you turned to Spencer, "Just be glad it wasn't you." You deadpanned, walking away without giving him the chance to say a word.

First attempt: failed.

You clearly weren't in the mood to speak with him, especially when you hadn't gotten your usual coffee. You hated precinct coffee to the bone. Thus, you tortured yourself from lack of caffeine and exhaustion.

This sparked Spencer's second attempt to gain your friendship back: offer you coffee. Your coffee order has been in the back of his mind for the past month. It turns out he liked your odd coffee concoction after finding himself with two cups of coffee every morning the first two weeks you were gone.

The first two days were purely out of habit. The rest were out of the delusion that you'd be sitting on your old desk when he gets in the office.

So, he could only imagine the dejection when you arrived the next morning with an unfamiliar coffee order and bright laughter as you told Ezekiel how his coffee order had changed your life for the better.

Spencer constantly expressed his disapproval. Of course, you weren't happy about it. What was worse was you didn't know why. And worse than that, he couldn't figure out why.

Or so he thought.

As soon as he found an opening, Spencer pulled you into the side. He brought the two of you into an empty interrogation room.

"What are you doing?" You snatched your arm from his grip. You weren't stupid. You noticed Spencer's fixation for your attention. You did your best to be civil, but he was making it very difficult for you.

"You've barely been in the ViCAP unit, and you're already smitten with your superior. I think it's safe to say it does not look good on you. You don't even know whether he's a decent guy." Spencer gulped. He knew exactly how stupid he sounded.

You blinked loudly and chuckled, "So?"

Spencer straightened his back and averted his eyes away from yours, "So… I suggest you…" He trailed off. He didn't plan this far. He should've planned farther than this. It wasn't exactly very clever of him, and your glare made him dumb.

"Suggest me what?" You crossed your arms on your chest. When Spencer didn't speak for fifteen seconds, you continued, "You have no right to tell me what looks good for me. Or anything about me. You made that pretty clear, Reid. Stick with it."

You purposely bumped into his shoulder on your way out, leaving him dumbfounded and dry-mouthed.

His chest felt tight as if a hand was clenching it into the tiniest crumple of paper. He closed his eyes in agony as he whispered, "Damn it," running his fingers through his hair.

With the 187 IQ he's been bragging about, he couldn't imagine his own disappointment when he failed to realize his feelings for you.

You have been nothing but kind to him. When he was grieving, you were the only one he wanted to confide in. You were the only one who could make him smile. The only one who could make him laugh with an average humor. The one that made painful things less miserable.

And without him knowing, he fell for your kind smiles and warm company.

He became addicted to you.

Spencer did his best to avoid it, but he couldn't help himself. How could someone not fall for someone amazing like you? Clearly not him.

Your friendship felt more important to him, though. It always was. It was too important that he spent his time finding a fix for his infatuation. Shoving his growing feelings for you as if it were a crime.

But you just couldn't let him not fall for you. You didn't even try. You were just you, and he was just one of your willing victims. It was inevitable.

The deeper he fell for you, the more he wanted not to.

He was a weakling, a stupid coward, and irrevocably in love with you.

So, was he disappointed that you fell for the genius prodigy? Or was he disappointed that he never realized how deep he'd fallen for you until you left?

The next day was Spencer's worst nightmare.

You were at gunpoint.

Close and yet so far.

"Come any closer, and I'll shoot her!" The unsub shouted, holding you by the neck with his arm wrapped around it.

Spencer felt his hands clammy. You were too close to the unsub for him to find an opening. Backup was still a few minutes away. He didn't know what to do.

He took a deep breath, "No one needs to get hurt. Just let her go, and we can talk this out." He kept his gun pointed at the unsub.

He made sure you knew that. He never wanted you to think that he'd ever point a gun at you, even if you weren't already.

The unsub's grip tightened around your neck, and you could barely manage to let out a gasp. Tears began to spill from your eyes as air dissipated from your lungs. Your consciousness was hanging by a thread.

"Shut the hell up!" The unsub shifted the tip of his gun towards Spencer. He glanced at you and at Spencer's pleading face. He laughed, "If you let me go, I'll make sure someone rich buys her. You don't have to worry. I'll make sure they treat her well."

"Don't!" You choked, "Don't listen to him, Spence!" You were stammering, almost unable to form words.

Hearing you call him by his first name for the first time in a while gave Spencer a concussion. A string of déjà vu coursed through his body. Spencer was more terrified than he already was. He couldn't lose you again. He couldn't go through it again.

You could see it in his eyes. You knew that look from miles away. You've seen the same look etched in the deepest vault in your mind. The only thing was, you never imagined that you'd ever be the reason for it.

And just as you always have… you chose him.

You focused on his brown eyes. You took a deep breath and met Spencer's gaze, "Take the blunder."

His eyes widened. He felt his heart quicken. Spencer vigorously shook his head, tightening his grip on his gun.

After spending time together in his gloomy apartment, you and Spencer found enjoyment in playing chess. A few phrases stuck to heart, inside jokes that filled both of you with mindless giggles.

What used to be a funny term turned into something Spencer feared the most at that moment.

You were asking him to shoot you.

"No! I won't do that!" Spencer shouted, shaking his head to the point of dizziness. There must be another way. He needed to find another way to save you.

"What the fuck are you two talking about?!" The unsub pointed the gun back at your temple. This time, he made sure you felt the cold metal on your skin.

Both you and Spencer knew that the unsub was too far gone to be reasonable. Your plan was the only plan that'd work. He had to shoot you and let the bullet through to hit the unsub down. Of course, it wasn't a perfect one.

But it'd save many lives and his, and you were content with that idea alone. Except Spencer wasn't.

You closed your eyes, "Spencer, do it!" You begged, suffocating. "Take the fucking blunder! Now!"

Spencer didn't notice his watery eyes, fixing his vision solely on you. His hands were shaking. His body was ice cold. He could hear you and your fading breath. He aimed his gun at your shoulder, steadying his stance.

A bright flash and two loud strikes prompted you and the unsub to fall to the floor.

Hotch came into view across Spencer, pointing his gun to where the unsub used to chokehold you.

Spencer flew to your side, taking you in his arms as sobs spilled out of his lips. "No, no, no, no. Not again, no. Please, no." He brushed the hair off your face, holding your cheek.

A chuckle curved the ends of your lips, "You're a horrible shot." Your eyes were still closed as you felt a small sting on your shoulder grow as it bled out.

His breath hitched. Spencer chuckled a cry as he pulled you into a hug. It was so tight and yet gentle enough to let you catch your breath. "I thought I was going to lose you," He whispered. You never thought Spencer would ever hug you tighter than he already was. "I didn't— I don't want to lose you."

Soon, Spencer had to let you go as the paramedics came to your aid. They dragged you out where everyone waited in anticipation.

Ezekiel was the first to run to you, "You alright?" He replaced Spencer's spot on your side.

"I'll live," you shrugged, regretting it immediately as you felt a painful shock travel from your shoulder. You cursed under your breath.

"Stop moving, dumbass." Ezekiel scolded, turning to the paramedics and asking them if there was any way he could help.

Spencer felt empty at the sight. His heart shattered at the sight of someone else taking care of you. But compared to Ezekiel, he had no chance. And it broke Spencer even more.

But that didn't mean he couldn't try to befriend you.

So he chose friendship. He always did, after all.

He visited you the next morning, the first one to arrive as soon as visiting hours began.

"Hey," Spencer flashed a thin smile.

You placed the book you were reading down on your lap, returning his smile, "Hey."

This time, Spencer knew you weren't just being polite. It made his heart swell from relief. He still had a chance to make things right.

He walked inside the room, placing a small bouquet of white daisies on the bedside table. Spencer pointed at your book, "I have a book just like that." He started, attempting to make casual conversation.

"It's actually yours," You flipped the pages, revealing thousands of annotations. You only knew one person who did that. "It was my favorite. I couldn't let it go…" You gently wiped the cover.

George Orwell's 1984 novel was the first book Spencer ever lent you. As you packed your stuff from your old desk, you couldn't help but pick up one book to keep.

Spencer looked around, "Where's Agent Ezekiel?" He wondered out loud. Maybe too loud. The name rolled off his tongue with subtle disgust. He felt conflicted about the guy's absence from your side but was also relieved that he got to have you to himself.

"He's talking to my aunt," You replied nonchalantly, refraining yourself from shrugging.

His eyebrows furrowed, "Your aunt? Don't you mean your mom?"

You shook your head, looking at him oddly. "Last I heard, Zeke's my cousin, not my brother."

Spencer's eyebrows lifted over his forehead, "Ah, right. Yeah, that'd be weird…" He gave his best to sound casual while he internally screamed in his head. If only he could do a somersault without breaking every bone in his body and looking stupid, he would.

"Imagine the horror," You scoffed, bringing the book up to continue reading.

He watched you silently for a moment. He never knew why he thought a friend was all he was ever going to see you as. It must be the stupidest idea he's ever had.

Spencer bit his lower lip, his hands clenched on the side of your bed, "I—" He bit his tongue, unsure how to continue or how to start.

You turned to him with raised eyebrows, "Hmm? D'you say something?" You closed the book, giving him all the attention he has been dying to get for the past week.

"I—uh…" He swallowed the lump in his throat, "I know it's way too late to say this, but," Spencer wet his lips and met your gaze, "I'm sorry for being a jerk and—"

"It's okay, Spence," You smiled, cutting him off. "I did throw my feelings at you out of nowhere, so I kind of understand—"

Spencer cut you off, "Still doesn't it make it right for me to be an asshole. It's not like you—"

You shook your head, "But I was being unreasonable. I had no right to stop you from—"

It was like a game. Both of you kept cutting each other off like an indecisive scale.

Spencer couldn't take it anymore and grabbed your face, giving you a quick, soft kiss on your lips. "Just shut up for a second…" His breath fanned on your face, "Please…" He rested his forehead on yours and began to speak as soon as he felt you nod. "I'm sorry for being a jerk. I'm sorry for reacting like a coward. And I'm sorry for being stupid." He spoke in a rush as if he knew you'd talk over him as soon as you had the chance to.

"I'm sorry I said I was disappointed in you. I made a blunder…" You laughed at his joke. "I thought if I turned you down, I'd never have to worry about losing you. I was obviously wrong." He playfully rolled his eyes, only widening your grin. "I was falling for you, and I chickened out—"

You felt giddy. You couldn't stop the grin on your face. Your eyes couldn't help but stare at his lips. You did your best to listen to his sweet words, but damn were you easily distracted by him.

Apologies after apologies, sweet words after sappy sentiments. You grew too impatient. He was talking too much.

"Spencer, just say you love me and kiss me," You interjected, pulling his shirt to get him closer.

He laughed softly. A sound that made your heart skip a beat. He caressed your cheek with his thumb, tilting your head higher.

"I love you… I'm in love with you."

Spencer felt so good to finally admit it: to you and to himself. He pulled you in once more and kissed you again, longer this time.

He couldn't get enough of it, enough of you. He only pulled away when a nurse came in to check on you, blushing like a red beet.

Not a second after, his phone rang. The team was looking for him and wondering where he was, emphasizing the fact that they were to fly in forty minutes.

Spencer went back into the room, low-spirited. He didn't want to leave you just yet. You had barely forgiven him, and he barely knocked some sense into his stubborn head. He wanted to stay and make up for the month he'd missed.

But duty calls, so he sat silently as the jet took off the runway, fiddling with the loose string on his cuff. A snapping sound pulled him out of his trance.

"Reid," Derek called out as he sat on the left seat across Spencer. "How'd it go?" Derek queried.

"How'd what go?" Spencer's eyebrows raised. What could Derek possibly mean?

Derek looked at him as if Spencer was crazy, "You said you'd go to the hospital to get your migraine checked out. Is everything alright?"

JJ heard their conversation, turning on her seat, "Didn't you get checked out last week? Is it getting worse?" She worriedly asked, joining the discussion.

Spencer's ears turned pink as he quickly glanced at JJ, "Y-yeah... I mean, no. I'm fine." He stuttered, clearing his throat.

Emily squinted at the boy genius' stutter. She wasn't as smart as him, but she knew him well enough to know when he was lying. "Which hospital did you go to?" She raised her eyebrows.

"The... one on..." Spencer wasn't prepared to take the hot seat. His mind was still clouded by the thought of you. It was like he was under the influence, unable to get his head straight.

"The one where she's staying?" Emily prompted.

"Yeah, the one where she's staying—wait who?" Spencer was taken aback.

Emily grinned, catching a glimpse of a purple hue on Spencer's skin hiding behind his collar. "I think he's fine," She told JJ and Derek. He looked at Spencer, "You're fine, right?"

Spencer hesitantly nodded his head.

Derek's eyebrows knitted, "What are you on about?" He turned to Emily, who was sitting next to him.

"When you're stressed out, what do you usually do?" Emily raised her hand before letting Derek answer, "With Savannah." She smirked.

"Damn, Prentiss. I didn't know you were that curious about my sex life." Derek replied sarcastically.

"No," Emily smacked her forehead. She decided not to explain herself any further. She looked at the genius across him, "So, how is she?" When Spencer gave her a confused look, she rolled her eyes, "Oh, please. Stop acting like you didn't just make out with her."

Spencer looked down and giggled silently. Busted. It was your fault, really. Before he left, you made sure to turn his frown upside down and did it so well that his mind was malfunctioning from the memory of your lips, leaving marks on his chest.

"She's fine. The doctor said she'd be able to fly home in a few days." Spencer replied giddily.

Emily smirked, "Yeah, I bet she's fine, alright." She pointed at Spencer's tie, enough hint for Derek and JJ to catch up in the conversation.

"My man," Derek's grinned.

JJ's eyes widened, and her mouth was slightly agape. "So, are you two made up?"

Spencer nodded, "Yeah... just a tricky blunder."

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #ssa spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid series #spencer reid x reader #criminalminds #criminal minds #spencer reid angst

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aurpiment · 8 months

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I dreamed that I was working on an ecology research boat and for some reason aboard the boat there was an injured otter. One of my colleagues started feeding it cat kibble and thawed cooked shrimp on a plate and he even taught her to say yes and no. (Pulling a lever on a striped ball was no, on a plain ball was yes.) The otter was very intelligent and she became accustomed to and even fond of humans. She stayed on the boat even after she recovered. She cozied up to human hands to request to be petted on the head. This made another of my colleagues, who was more senior, very upset. She (the colleague, not the otter) explained to him that it is dangerous for wild animals to become acclimatized to humans.

Here’s where it got weird. We tried to reason with the otter to convince her to leave us forever and go back into the wild, since the otter had learned to understand English and could now speak. I told her that she had lost the instinct to bite our hands, and that otters are supposed to bite. She answered that she was sorry that she used to have the instinct to bite us, because it was rude, and that we were her friends. (She figured out it was rude among humans because she noticed that none of us bit each other, not even playing.)

I relayed this answer to the senior colleague who, after cussing out the other colleague for “de-animalizing” the otter, came up with a plan. (De-animalizing, my colleague explained, turns a wild animal into a pet, and “a house-animal is no animal.” She explained this in German. My German is very bad.)

This was the plan: We were to give the otter a “shamanic experience” to make her think she was having a meaningful vision. My senior colleague would drug her, and drape her in the preserved pelt of another otter, so that when she woke up, she would ask herself, ‘who am I?’ And come out of the pelt thinking she was being reborn. I thought draping her in the skin of a dead member of her own species was macabre and possibly itchy, and that the whole “shamanic experience” idea was pure plastic, but the risk was that she would be de-animalized if she stayed with us longer, so I followed along with the plan.

My senior colleague drugged the otter, the otter woke up and crawled out of the other pelt, and then, since I was the intern on the boat, I stomped rhythmically on closed tiptoes in front of the otter and conveyed information to her in a droning song. I chanted about how it was dangerous for wild animals to stay among humans. I don’t think I was wearing a mask, so the otter recognized me and didn’t get why I was doing that weird song and dance. Ritual does not come naturally to otters, even tame ones. Nor are they in the habit of having dream visions.

But she was sort of enthralled by the rhythmic footwork of the dance and she was still a little cross-eyed and high, so she was paying rapt attention to what I was telling her. She asked me, very earnestly, “do corrupt intentions underlie your deeds?” (Meaning humans as a whole, not just me)

I told her, (in a normal voice, no longer doing the song bit) “My friend, some of us are very corrupt. It’s not safe to trust any of us.“

What I said to her was more words than that, but I focused so hard on saying it that I said it with my real still-in-bed body’s mouth and breath, which woke me up. I don’t know if the otter was persuaded to return to the water.

#mt #dreams

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strawbeerossi · 7 months

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Sweet Treat

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Penelope gives you aphrodisiac chocolates as a gag gift. Whenever you and Spencer have a movie night, you both don’t realize what sweets you are delving into.

Content/Warnings: Awkward little banter between friends, mutual pining is mentioned, food/eating, aphrodisiacs, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2.4K

Kinktober Day Twenty Three: Aphrodisiacs

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

“Penelope, what the hell is this?” You asked, a laugh leaving your lips as you looked over the container of what looked to be normal chocolate. “Well! I found it online and apparently it’s some of that chocolate that you eat and you just wanna go crazy on the first person you see.” She giggled.

A girls night meant all sorts of things but whenever Penelope pulled out presents, you knew exactly where this was going. You and the girls had met up at her place about an hour ago. After ordering Chinese takeout and having way too much wine, the night had taken a bit of a turn when it came to discussions. Women talk. Sex was a main topic between you and your small friend group.

“So you are giving them to me?! P, I don’t even have a boyfriend.” You laughed. “Who needs a boyfriend whenever you can have fun with anyone in the world. Just keep them.”

And so you did. It was days after the fact whenever you were inviting Spencer over for a marathon of your favorite show. It was going to be fun, you and your best friend from the office watching your favorite show together. He’d offered to pick up food on the way, which he’d stuck with a good Thai place that you both had eaten at numerous times before whenever you got back from a particularly late case.

Spencer was your best friend on the team, the both of you being closer in age compared to the rest of the crew you worked with. Plus you had similar interests when it came to books, movies, among other things. You’d greeted him with a wide smile the minute the door opened. “Hey!” You grinned while moving to hug him. Despite his disdain for hugs or being touched, he’d slowly began to let you in more. He was happy to hug you or have you hold his hand whenever you needed to pull him somewhere else in a crowded room without losing him.

He enjoyed being by your side. Honestly, he was sure he was in love with you because of how caring you were. You listened to his rambles and even asked him further questions. You even laughed at the jokes that were complicated to understand. You were truly a light shining bright on the team. “I hope you have snacks because I didn’t even stop.” Spencer groaned after returning the hug with one arm as his foot kicked the front door shut. “I do. I have a lot in the kitchen.” You assured.

You'd started the new season of your show together and gotten through dinner within a few episodes before Spencer disappeared into the kitchen as you paused the program on tv. “Don’t take too long! I gotta see how this plays out!” You called while leaning back against the couch, pulling the blanket over your body while letting out a soft hum. Spencer had ended up grabbing some chocolate. Which he didn’t read over the label as he grabbed a tab from the container and looked it over. “That’s cute. It’s got little shapes.” He chuckled to himself, breaking one in half as he was moving to take a bite from the rich milk chocolate. It was to die for, so he had to take the other half to you so you could try before you both tore into the bag together.

“Try this. It’s so rich. I actually love it.” He’d commented. You weren’t paying attention to what the chocolate looked like, bringing it up to your nose and smelling it before you were pulling the piece in your mouth. Which it was delicious, your eyebrows raising. “Wow, that really is good.” You laughed, watching as Spencer was sitting down and passing over snacks to you. “We can eat the chocolate later. You know sweet stuff can either send me flying on the walls or I end up feeling bad to do anything.” Fair enough.

It was an hour later when you were on another episode, your body was feeling hot as you shifted uncomfortably on the couch. You wouldn’t like to think that you were attracted to the program, it was a horror series and you were in the middle of a chase scene. So why else were you squirming?

Just as you were going to excuse yourself to take care of the heat in your belly, you noticed Spencer shifting uncomfortably, a pillow resting over his lap. Then you thought about the chocolate, your eyes widening as you were shooting up from the couch and rushing to the kitchen. Spencer watched you, turning slightly on the couch to watch you curiously through the doorway. That’s when you see the box, a soft groan leaving your lips as you lifted up the sex candy while bringing a hand up to rest against your face. ‘

Just great. You knew you should’ve just put it in your room.

“Spencer.” The sound of your voice had him nearly jumping out of his skin as he quickly faced the tv again. “Yeah?” He asked as his hand clutched the pillow harder. Maybe you’d caught him. Even someone who wasn’t a profiler could tell there was something going on, not to mention the growing tension between the both of you.

Mutual pining was normal and you both weren’t exempt from that. Spencer was an awkward rambler but you found it endearing. Just as he found you as equally as endearing even if you were quiet a good majority of the time and relished in his ramblings about whatever was brought up. You both enjoyed each other's presence, the two of you spending time together more often than not.

Those unsaid mutual feelings made this whole situation worse.

You approached the couch again as you slowly sat down beside Spencer again, body leaning back against the couch as you could feel yourself hot, face flushed as you couldn’t sit still to save your life. Spencer had now taken notice, clearing his throat. “I-I uh.. I may need to leave soon. M-mom’s facility called.” A lie but it would be a smooth getaway.

“Oh, yeah. Uh, it might be for the best! I forgot that I have to..” Your eyes glanced around the room. “Reorganize my bookshelf!” Less subtle. “R-right. Uh, This seems weird but can you close your eyes for a minute? I just..” His eyes were glued on the pillow, making you bring your eyes down as well. “O-oh.”

“It’s not because of the show!” He squeaked, face bright red as he was looking back at the screen. “I don’t- I don’t know why but I was looking at you and it just.. I don’t know!” He whined. His awkwardness made it hard for him to admit why there was a pillow on his lap outright, however you had clocked the reasons why.

“You know the chocolate..? Uh, Penelope gave me them the other day as a joke and they are.. They are essentially just sex chocolate.” Your face was hot, chest rising and falling as you were feeling the gush of slick in your panties from the heightened arousal. “Wait. Aphrodisiacs?!” Spencer was looking at you with wide eyes, mouth agape in shock. Well, at least he didn’t feel as bad from getting hard after giving you a few glances. There was a reason behind it.

The both of you stared at one another, faces hot and eyes blown out with lust. “So uh.. How long does this last?” Spencer finally asked, his brain being too clouded over with lust as he stared in your direction. “I-I wouldn’t know.. I never used them.” Your nose crinkled as the both of you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from one another. “I, uh, I lied about my reason to leave.” He stated the obvious while you couldn’t help but let a little laugh escape your lips. “I know..” You admitted, slowly pushing yourself to stand. “I um.. I don’t actually have to reorganize my bookshelf either..” You laughed awkwardly while heading over to stand in front of your best friend, hand moving to gently rest over the pillow. “I don’t want you to go.. Not yet. Can you, um, help me out a little bit? I trust you and you are here.” You rambled on as you put your hands together slowly. Spencer was looking at you with wide eyes as he nodded slowly.

“I’ll help.” You were both a bit awkward at first, the male letting you move the pillow before you were straddling his waist, the show in the background continuing to run as your best friend was blushing nervously. “I gotta admit that I’ve only done this one time before..” He spoke while you offered a smile. “It’s alright.” You whispered as you let your head dip down to connect your lips with his. Your bodies were buzzing with electricity as you were deepening the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair while his hands were gripping your hips.

You never thought you’d be in this position, tongue in your closest friend’s mouth while your hips were grinding down against his. You felt a fire inside of you, your body desperate to be bare and touched. As you pulled out of the kiss much to Spencer’s dismay, you were tugging your shirt over your head before tossing it somewhere else in the room. The sight of your breasts in a white bra had Spencer’s Adams apple bobbing as his eyes were trained on the lace that accentuated your skin. “It’s pretty right? One of my favorites.” You comment while watching his eyes stare at your tits with a new sense of hunger in his eyes.

You took it as a great sign as your hand was reaching behind you, unclasping the top before letting it fall somewhere with your shirt. His hands were quickly coming up to cup your breasts before he was just diving right in, wet kisses being pressed against your skin before his lips were wrapping around your nipple, tongue flicking over the nub as your fingers tangled in his hair. “Fuck.” You cursed while his attention was focused on your chest.

Your body was perfect.

As he had gotten enough though, he was pulling back to examine your chest that was covered in a few hickies and your hardened nipples. “You look so pretty.” It wasn’t akin to being called a whore or a slut but you honestly liked it. The way he complimented your body had your cheeks heating up as you were lifting your hips when he had gained enough confidence to work on your pants. He’d tugged down your pants and panties before working on his own pants.

“Eager?” You commented, a little giggle leaving your lips as Spencer looked at you as if you’d grown another head. “Have you seen yourself?! Of course I’m eager!” He defended himself, causing the both of you to share a laugh. “I hate to rush this but-” He was cut off by a groan as your hand reached between you both to give his leaking cock a few tugs. “I know, me too. You can make up for the lack of foreplay later.” You wiggled your eyebrows as you pressed your lips against his once more, your leaking hole sinking down onto his cock.

The both of you had let out moans muffled in one another’s mouths as your hips rocked slowly, getting adjusted to the man’s thick cock. It was always the awkward nerds who had the best surprises.

Your head was falling on his shoulder as he held your hips with a bruising grip. He wasn’t one to have sex often, not being lucky like Derek in the department of women effortlessly throwing themselves at him. He knew that this scenario was one he never imagined happening, your velvety walls clenching tightly around this bare cock while you essentially used him as a human dildo to get yourself off.

He wasn’t complaining in the slightest, watching your face contort in ecstasy as his hips were thrusting upwards to slam into your leaking cunt, a groan falling from his lips as his head tilted back against the sofa. You were whining and moaning with each thrust that he matched with your movements, eventually pushing the one place you needed most. The impact had your hands clutching tightly to his shoulders as you let your mouth fall open with a soft cry.

“Oh my god, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Your words were slurred, the effects of the aphrodisiacs heightening all of your arousal so you felt like you were going to burst at the seams. Your body was hot, hips surely bruised by Spencer’s rough grip as he slammed into you as well as your legs shaking from their position.

When you did hit your peak, you were tightly grabbing Spencer’s shoulders as your hips slammed down into his lap, ass hitting his thighs at an unsteady rhythm. Spencer however, was quickly flipping you both over, your body sprawled out against your living room couch as he was rolling on top of you.

Taking the opportunity, he wasn’t skipping a beat as his hips slammed into yours, your sensitive cunt contracting around his cock as he was bringing himself to climax. As your moans and whines from overstimulation echoed in the apartment, his own whines of desperation were falling from his lips.

His cock twitched inside of your used pussy, quickly making the effort to pull out of you as he jerked at his leaking cock, a low huff leaving his lips as ropes of cum were now pooling in your stomach, glazing your bare skin as he let out a weak whine. As you lay there covered in his spent, your chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace as you made the effort to catch your breath.

“I think that chocolate needs to be thrown away to avoid incidents like this again,” his voice pulled you out of your post sex haze as you laughed a little. “Are you kidding? I think we need to do this every time we watch our show together.” You teased, making Spencer shake his head with a smile.

“At least hide it for when you have anyone else over. I don’t think I’ll survive if this mix up happens with someone else.”

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futureplayboibunnie · 7 months

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Heartless Pt. 3

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’hara x fem!reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

are we…lowkey…getting somewhere?

The flight wasn't as grueling as you thought it would've been, it was an eight-hour nonstop flight and you were lucky you went at night. You stared blankly out of the window, blinking at the stars. You didn't even realize that you were drifting away softly, your lashes fluttered and drooped and then everything went black, the soft hum of the jet reverberating in your ears as you slipped to sleep, sleeping for a dreamless night with your head in the literal clouds.

Miguel was quite literally nocturnal. He could never sleep at night, even if he wanted to and even if he tried. He pulled out his laptop and started working, going over some cooked-up books that his crooked accountant had given him. Maybe he was paranoid by triple-checking everything, he had gone through your background check multiple times and it still didn't feel enough, he still didn't feel like it was accurate to the character you were playing for him. Like a facade. Miguel was absorbed in his work, he didn't realize a few hours passed already. He still wasn't tired, and he wanted to avoid sleeping deeply for as long as he could- he couldn't be in a position where his bad dreams could get at him again. He frowned at the startling thought and downed the last of his Merlot. Your soft breathing made him break away for a moment, his head shifted to look at you and you were sound asleep. Your head rested to the side of you away from him and your hair was covering your face. Miguel hesitantly reached his hand to stroke away the strands that were blocking out your features, maybe he just wanted to check if you weren't awake, or maybe he just wanted to gawk at you without the consequence of your smart mouth or belittling stare- either way, he couldn't stop his fingers from brushing the hair away from your face. You breathed deeply and mumbled something incoherent that Miguel couldn't comprehend, Miguel felt you shift in your seat. He immediately retracted his hand, brows knitting together as he studied what you looked like in your natural form, when you weren't pretending to be someone else.

Again. He thought you looked nice. Miguel grunted softly at his ceaseless gaping, he was being ridiculous, staring at an attractive woman as if he'd never seen one before. He won't succumb to something as juvenile as this, his pressures lie elsewhere and he won't let his confusion around you cloud his thoughts to things that matter more. If he was being completely honest with himself, he needed some sort of vacation- he had grown tired of being on edge back home, looking over his shoulder, making sure to preserve what was his. How was he supposed to become more powerful and spread his influence if he was still looking after what he already had? It was startling for him to be in control of so many things at once, but as always, he pushed it down. There were still a few hours before you landed and Miguel didn't want to be engrossed by work anymore, he wasn't paying attention to it. He decided to pull out a book he still hadn't finished reading, he hadn't had time to indulge in such normal trivial things as reading. There were moments when you stirred and twisted in your sleep, surely you weren't comfortable in heels and a tight little dress but Miguel didn't want to meddle with you further. He's done more than enough.

“Hey.“

A soft gentle voice made your eyes scrunch.

“Hey, wake up. We're here.” The voice urged again.

Your lashes fluttered when you finally realized that it was Miguel. And that it was also Miguel who was had his hand on your face. You jolted awake, Miguel was next to you but it felt like he was so far away, you didn't realize how little it took for him to extend an arm and brush his fingers against you. The moonlight beamed through the pane, your groggy vision turning into a beautiful portrait of Miguel, illuminating every single feature of him, his brown hair turning honey as the Italian moon hit him perfectly. You shook your head and raised yourself on your seat, still not understanding how you could fall asleep in something so heinously uncomfortable, and even then you still resumed being graceful as always, you wouldn't let that appearance shatter, especially in front of Miguel. His presence itself didnt bother you but what went on in his head did.

Speaking of, Miguel's mind was whirring away but it drew to a blank

There was one thing he wanted to say though; 'Is this what we're doing? Just not talking to each other?’ Well. He preferred that to that polite small talk, you both kept on upholding, the thought made his skin crawl.

The drive to the complex was silent as per usual, but this time it was Miguel who was driving and you were in the front seat. His cars were expensive, his Audi RS Q8 wasn't an exception, it was a sinful amplification of the word money. You settled into the passenger seat, trying not to inspect every single inch of his car like a lost tourist, awing at the model but you contained it, your face expresser something akin to that of being unimpressed and uninterested, when in fact you were the complete opposite. The fact that you had to act this way just to not give Miguel the satisfaction wasn't difficult but inconvenient. You wanted to be yourself, but you didn't want to seem weak in front of him, you won't let that happen. Ever.

You breathed out, your fingers smoothing against the seatbelt, reminding you of the way he so easily trapped you in the plane, that hand keeping you in place. You couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched you like that, well, anyone who even touched you at all in the last few months. Your eyes couldn't help but glance over at him, sneaky eyes trailing over him, almost thickening the distance and tension between you- he was right here, but a million miles away. Miguel's hand slid over the wheel seamlessly, but you noticed his knuckles turning white as he gripped onto it. His jaw ticked as he let out a short frustrated breath, his gaze nothing more than penetrating as he glared at the window, completely unamused- his autopilot mood.

If only he wasn't blinded by rage and other primitive and frankly boring emotions- it was so predictable that it didn't phase you. You pursed your lips and stared outside the window, pensive and aloof as the night clouded your peripheral. the bleak darkness you were gazing at, seemed to reflect Miguel's mood more than anything and you didn't know how to confront this deep tension between you that was certainly getting thicker and thicker. Then your mouth ran before you could check it.

"You'll break it.”You said flatly, brimming with confidence by the way you squared your shoulders, surprised by your own voice thrumming out of your throat.

Miguel's head shifted to regard you. Oh wow, the church mouse finally roars. The fact that you're saying something at all, let alone something in a knowing tone made him halt in his tracks. You seemed so sure of yourself like you knew exactly what he could do. Like you had any idea who he was. Aw, honey. You didn't know anything. You needed to stop pretending like you did

"Hm?” Miguel mumbled impatiently, waiting for you to elaborate on your not-so-graceful statement.

“Don't grip so hard on the wheel. You'll break it.” You replied as if you were bored out of your mind, Miguel despised it entirely. His eyes turned into mere slits when they found his knuckles turning a pale white against the wheel, his veins turning thunderous and borderline pulsating with resigned anger he was used to but now since you pointed it out, he was becoming more aware of his actions than he was happy with. Miguel mostly kept to himself, but primitive emotions such as anger or frustration, creeped out of him slowly and etched at his features like a lingering poison.

"Hm. I see the only time you open your mouth is to critique me.” He replied with a soft snarl.

“I'm not criticizing you. I just don't want this ludicrously expensive car to break under your thumb.”

“I can afford another 10 of these.” Miguel's words ran off his tongue so smoothly you realized the point he was proving: he was extremely wealthy, he didn't need to care about things. It's something that you shouldn't forget. Miguel doesn't conserve material things, why should he? You shouldn't expect him to want to take care of his possessions, though you didn't realize how careless he actually was with it. you wouldn't have guessed a man as arrogant and careful as him within his work and his business to be so callous with his money, but then again- the money spent on a new car is a mere droplet within a river of riches. It left a bitter taste in your mouth. You shot him a glare and that's when he muttered flatly, “Don't ever question that again, we clear?”

"Hm. And also, I have a brain and a mouth. When I don't want to talk I won't talk, I don't need to fill the silence with empty words, if I want to talk or call you out on something I will. Just because I don't entertain petty or better yet polite conversation doesn't mean I'm a wallflower or taker of shit, we clear?”

Miguel's face was set in an uncrackable scowl, his jaw ticked as you talked to him in such a patronizing way, it may have been deserved or it may have been a clear indication of your intentions- but either way, he didn't like the way you were talking.

“Careful.”

“We may be married but I will not answer to yo-“

He cut you off sternly with his hand reaching out and gripping your cheeks to close your mouth, it was a warning, the way he stared at you proved that, his hand proved harsher. “I said careful.” You let out a frustrated breath, struggling with your hands on his to pry his iron-like fingers off of your cheeks and chin. Miguel felt you struggle in your seat, hissing and thrashing but he remained unaffected, so completely normal about it all as he kept driving. He released his grip on you and you breathed out deeply, flashing him a look of surprise and hatred. He had a tendency to make people this way and he revelled in it. “Smart mouth...All bark, no bite….it can only get you so far. Remember that the next time you wanna try and lay into me Cariño.”

You remained embittered with Miguel when you got to the beachside apartment complex, you slammed the car door shut harshly, seemingly acting like him for not caring for his little playthings. If he didn’t care, why should you? He could tell by that look on your face you wouldn't be all polite and graceful after what he did. You didn't help him with the bags, you didn't care. The doorman let you in, informing you that the complex would be all yours for the week as he gave you the key. Miguel trudged behind you, carrying the bags up the stairs like they were feathers. You slammed the door in his face but he knee stopped it from closing fully, he knew that you were trying to prove a point and it was dancing on his nerves.

“I’m taking a shower and going to bed. Don’t even think about interrupting me for anything.” You spat out lowly, irritation causing your brows to knit together slightly. Miguel just grunted in response, dropping the bags on the floor gracelessly.

He hadn’t been to this beach house in a while, although it was thoroughly cleaned, it still felt lived in from when he was a kid living here with his family. Miguel didn’t know how to feel about the fond and somewhat nostalgic thought. Then his eyes flicked to the glass cabinet in the corner of the living room. He stepped closer and found the thoroughly familiar photos of him and Gabriel, playing. Careless as ever. He scoffed slightly with a little smile touching at his lips. It was a lot easier back then.

Now he has to deal with a pissed off wife, with a pretty mouth.

You explored the hallway first, walking down and vaguely peeping into every room, but you reached the master bedroom by the end of the hallway. You opened the door and found a beautiful room with a marble layout and wooden details, the balcony you stepped into was slightly protruding, looking out into the grassy planes, sandy beaches and palm trees. Something out of novel. The iron bars were covered in ivy and vines, shrubs and bushes of plenty alonside even more greenery. The moon shone onto the waves hauntingly, creating a halo onto the Earth.

It really was beautiful.

You shifted your head, raising an eyebrow at how big the white bed was, but you didn’t read into it. It’ll be just like it was at home- you and Miguel in seperate rooms, like always. Your heels clicked to the en suite and Jesus Christ, it was huge. Your eyes gleamed from corner to corner of the room, and then you reached the sink and immediately rolled your eyes.

Of course the best room in the building had to be Miguel’s.

There was a tiny frame sitting at the corner of his sink. It was of him holding Gabriel as a newborn, your vision turned sharp as you inspected the photo. Well. Miguel definitely had his boyish charm back then, a shame he doesn’t have it now. His smile would always remain a mystery to you. You settled the frame down and instead you eyed the copous bottles of cologne he had. Each more expensive than the last, as always.

Instead of just gawking around like a fool, you turned the shower on and immediately started stripping of this dress and heels you’ve been subjected too, you grabbed a fresh white towel and threw it to hand over the glass sliding door. You slipped in the shower, letting the warm water travel down every aching sore muscles, you hadn’t been this relieved in a long time.

Miguel, on the other hand, poured himself another incredibly strong scotch, he really needed to absolve himself of…something. He raked an exhausted hand over his face, he grabbed the whole bottle alongside the glass and trudged to his room begrudgingly, hoping to be rid of this night.

You wanted to keep the shower as brief as possible just so you could slip into bed sooner. Fuck. You didn’t bring your bag in here with you. Your shampoo was in it. Shit. You had to make do with what was around you, well, lucky for you, you only had Miguel’s shampoo around. With a defeated sigh, you had to go for it. As if this could get any worse.

You opened up the bottle and raised it to your nose, it smelled…dark? Cederwood. Coffee? Maybe a little bit of vanilla. That was just picking it apart, as a whole it the scent of it was just so… Miguel. Extra thickening? Interesting. Without caring, you squirted some into your palm and lathered it together with your hands, quickly soaking your hair and rubbing it softly into your scalp.

The bubbles surrounding you made the aroma that much more…intense.

Miguel heard the sound of the shower coming from his room, he wanted to grit his teeth until they shattered and fell into his hands. A frission of irritation thrummed at his temple. He swung open his bedroom door hurriedly with the might of one hand and exclaimed, “I swear to God if you’re in here I’m gonna-“

His feet stopped in their tracks. His mind went blank at what he was seeing. He was surprised he didn’t drop his damn scotch.

You going through his wardrobe in a tiny towel, legs dripping and glowing, hair wet and messy, glaring at him with a certain blank apprehension. Almost like a deer in headlights, but what could Miguel say? He was looking at you the exact same way.

taglist (giggles) : @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann @idolautism @residentialcryptid @bunnyrose01 @hqllcheers @minalovesyoubabes @amelialysm @moonvoidpng @ahano @hanberkkk @lavenderslemonade @mynameiswilliamblake @gejo333 @leahnicole1219 @iite-cool @zaunsin @kkchgee @yujyujj @hazelnutbitch @hiraya1802 @leo-lvr @sh4nn @watyousayin @siidmm @ciwywt-com @death-moth-art @ihateuguys @enmuhusben (sometimes i hate this fkn app it literally doensn’t let me tag other ppl why)

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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angelstate · 4 months

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“Unprioritized Love”

Husband!Price x Wife!Reader

Price is a loyal person, he thinks about everyone else before himself and doesn’t hesitate to do something he normally would be against if it means saving the people he cares for, it truly is a blessing at times, the way his priorities don’t falter…until they do.

because he is a loyal person but does not know or pretends not to know in which situations he should stand by one person instead of the other, it’s conflicting for him to choose someone when another person is also expecting his support.

it hurts a lot when you’re caught in that sort of situation with him, you’re his lover, his companion in life, and the person he returns home to, but you’re also the person he leaves behind for his team, you’re the one who waits around for him while the team gets him almost all the time.

and you know jealousy isn’t healthy, that you shouldn’t resent anyone because it's his job, he has to leave to provide for you, you cannot bite the hand that feeds you, it would be wrong, it wouldn’t be pretty, it wouldn’t be fair for him.

so you bite your tongue and nod like a child when he tells you about his job, about him going away once more, for longer this time. and the tears in your eyes are hard to be held back, because God, it hurts a lot to be left behind, all by yourself. away from your family and your lover, only an empty home to satisfy your basic needs.

He doesn’t mean to be an absent presence, the lack of a lover in your life. He truly doesn’t mean to give so little to you, to not hold you every night. but between his job and you…he knows which one he isn’t choosing even if he doesn’t say it out loud.

“I'll be back when I can, alright?” he speaks, voice gruff as he looks around the room, his hands on his hips, you stay seated on the couch, knees close to your chest and your eyes glued to the TV for a distraction, is better to pretend you don’t care than to show him how much you are beginning to hate the dynamic he created in your life.

“mhm” you hum in agreement, taking a big breath and holding it in before exhaling through your nose, not trusting that if you open your mouth, a sob wouldn’t escape, Price notices the lack of words from your part, you always have something to say, a small joke to make about him better bringing you a souvenir or something from his “trip” but when this time you don’t speak or even dare to look at him makes him anxious.

“Want me to bring you something?” he asks, taking a few steps towards you, looking towards the TV, a baking program playing, and your focus on the show makes him raise an eyebrow, you aren’t one to enjoy cooking so he doesn't understand why you’re watching it.

“no thanks” you respond, and the answer makes him feel like he’s done something wrong that made you upset, the last 4 days he’s been home replaying in his mind, trying to remember what could’ve made you get angry with him, nothing comes to mind sadly, and he feels clueless about everything surrounding you.

“I thought you don’t like cooking” He decides to comment, shifting the conversation to something more banal and easy to speak about. “I started baking almost 8 months ago” you answer him back, voice flat and your eyes strained on the TV, the recipe to make pavlova having your main focus, it makes Price frustrated, how you won’t look at him, won’t give him the time of day when he’s leaving tomorrow.

you don’t expect him to know how your life develops and the things that change when he's away most of the time, it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to pay you attention when he already has a tough and complicated job to do, his salary pays for the kitchen supplies and food after all. it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to know you... god, how stupid is that?

“You didn’t tell me” Price states, his voice carrying a heaviness that reveals he is irritated about not being told something he should’ve known if he paid attention to the new things in the kitchen like the stand mixer next to the electric oven.

“I thought I mentioned it when I gave you to try the brownies I made yesterday” you retort, your eyes landing on him for a second before returning to the TV, your gaze isn’t welcoming or warm and it creates a pit on his stomach to see you so detached and unresponsive to something he knew should make you upset.

It brings a sort of heaviness to his chest as he notices he doesn’t have the right to feel offended about not being told something when you should be upset about him not noticing in the first place something that occurred in his own home. It is hypocritical and he knows it.

Price stays silent for a long time, the sound of the TV filling in the silence that was created between the two of you, he feels out of place, not knowing how to answer you, what to do, what is the problem he feels he should be fixing right now.

“you should start packing” you comment after almost five minutes, and that phrase is said with a monotone tone, not one of sadness or a little bit of frustration that he’s leaving again, it's a tone that just states the obvious, you declare that he should pack his bag once more because otherwise he would leave with nothing for his mission and that wouldn’t be optimal.

“Can you help me pack?” He asks for a favor you often offer without him mentioning wanting your help. tonight you don’t offer assistance, almost like you aren’t faced by his departure, used to his absence, used to his side of the bed being empty.

“I’m watching TV” you speak and his heart breaks a little bit, you don’t sound apologetic as you often do when you’re not able to help him, and he’s leaving but he feels you left instead, that the girl he married is no longer in the house even though he has you in front of him, too focused on looking at the tv to help him.

he nods at your answer and doesn’t try to persuade you into doing something you don’t want to, it wouldn’t be fair to force you to help him just because he wants you to, it isn’t fair for you to give a hand and for him to take your arm. Loving someone isn’t really fair.

Only when he leaves the living room to go pack do your tears make their way out of your eyes, running down your cheeks as you cry silently, vision too blurry to even distinguish the images on the TV, it feels almost pathetic to be crying alone, your lover packing to leave and not be able to bring yourself to help him abandon you once again.

If you were his pet it would be abuse for him to just leave, but you're a woman and therefore being alone and left behind isn’t unexpected, being the one to stay home is almost an obligation when your lover leaves to provide for you even if you wish they stayed.

you’re not sure how it begins to be fair to be put in this situation, when the missions of 4 weeks turned into 4 months. When knowing everything about each other turned into barely remembering anniversaries and birthdays.

You don’t want to say the relationship fell apart because you doubt there’s anything at all to be destroyed anymore, you love him though, the pain in your chest and the tears falling from your eyes are proof of that, but you are not sure John loves you.

It’s uncertain how he views you after not spending time together for almost two years, you doubt there is nothing more than just an acknowledgment of your existence in his life, a statement that he knows you're his partner but not enough love to call you his lover.

“Why are you crying darling?” the sudden voice of Price pulls you out of your thoughts, the place next to you on the couch sinking as he takes a sit beside you, resting his elbows on his knees while his eyes examine your expression, you look utterly distraught about something, your breathing uneven and shaky as you begin to sob loudly, unable to talk as all your emotions came crashing down.

and the sight of you crying, digging your nails into your thighs, and being desperate for a peace that will not come, makes a heavy feeling of guilt and worry sit on his shoulders, wrapping an arm around your waist and another under your knees, bringing you into his lap and putting your face on the crook of his neck while you cried, sobs muffled against his skin, your tears wetting his shirt.

“take a deep breath love” Price says in your ear, your breathing so erratic that it makes him worried you will suffocate at some point because of the lack of oxygen in your body, he feels your chest against him as you do as he told you, taking deep breaths the best you can, trying to calm down for your and his sake.

you’ve never been one to cry with so much despair, to need his comfort in times of need because you managed well on your own, he was never around to solve your sorrow either so why bother? But today, he is the reason you're crying and it seems fair that he is the one to comfort you, that your only chore is to cry and keep your breathing somewhat stable while he does everything else to fix what he broke.

He doesn't know where to begin though, unaware of where he stands or what he should do to bring peace into your mind, what words will fix his mistake, and what words will tear you apart even more, he doesn’t want to cause you harm, not consciously, not right now. it wouldn’t be fair to you, it wouldn’t be fair to your heart, it would be cruel. and he doesn’t want to be cruel to you, not anymore.

“I’m sorry love…I should’ve been good to you” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, rocking you back and forth on his lap, soothing you like he would to a child, his voice low and soft, his hand caressing your thighs in a comforting manner.

“I don’t know why I didn’t notice that you started baking, it was wrong, I didn’t notice you when I should’ve noticed every change you’ve had over the last two years” he continuous, speaking out the guilt he carried in his chest the moment he saw you and heard you break down into tears, your sobs engraved in his mind.

“I’m really sorry for missing out on all of this when I was gone, I shouldn’t have been such a bad husband, you don’t deserve that” he sighs, his eyes stinting a little bit from the tears beginning to form, and your calmer now, sniffling and whimpering, the tears slowly stopping, but it seems that your distraught was transferred to him because he doesn’t feel at ease, he feels the guilt eat him alive while he soothes you.

“I don't want you to leave…” you mumble, adjusting on his lap, your head resting against his chest, you have never wanted him to leave home, to go on missions for months on end with little to no contact with your lover, it feels like you're mourning him every time he goes away and doesn’t give you a small message to let you know he wasn’t killed.

“I know sweet girl” he replies, he doesn’t want to leave either, he never wants to, even though he continues to do so. It's a complicated situation, one he doesn’t dare to think about too much because he’ll end up ripping his heart out, his loyalty not being able to distribute equally for you and his team, always the latter winning even if he doesn’t dare to admit it.

he wants to promise you he’ll return quickly this time and will take a leave just to spend time with you, to dedicate more time to what's left of your relationship, he doesn’t want your marriage to fail, you’re the only woman he wants, the only one he had ever seen himself grow old together, he doesn’t want to let that go because of his own stupid and selfish mistakes.

He has to leave tomorrow, but when he’s back he’ll fix everything.

“I'll be back soon” he mumbles against your hair, face buried in it as breathes in your smell, trying to engrave it in his mind, to not forget this time details about you he has always loved.

Thankfully, his promise becomes reality, and after two weeks of loneliness that have never felt heavier on your chest, he returns, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a smile on his lips, happy to see you, to see the warmth and loving gaze you always give him back in your eyes after all this time.

He steps through the door, your face pressed against his chest, refusing to let go of him, fearing he would leave even if it wasn’t unreasonable, he had returned early for you, he had seen his mistakes and was fixing what never should’ve been broken

Peace is restored in your home, love is flourishing once again in your marriage, and whatever plans you had made to start over get discarded, you’re already having a fresh start, one that doesn’t involve leaving your lover. this time is a start with a more conscious man who is ready to do everything right by you, to never let his job affect the way he loves you. He's learning that his wife comes first, that his life outside of the military also has the same and more importance than his job.

(little reminder: I'm taking requests if you want me to write something specific xx)

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queenofcoquette · 3 months

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motivation when doing new things

introduction:

hey loves! so this year my friends got me to start playing water polo, which is a pretty hard sport. practice is 2 hours and from 7-9, and the whole time i'm there i'm pretty much just struggling. after my first practice i wasn't too excited to go back, and after my second practice i was really upset. i know that this is such a small example, but the point is just that it's hard to stay motivated when you're trying something new, and not that good at it.

finding the courage to start:

trying new things is scary- especially if it's like a team sport or something that involves being around other people. my only piece of advice is just to get out of your comfort zone, even if you're terrified! just know that most people are too focused on their own progress to be paying attention to you- plus some people might think it's cool that you're doing someting new. just don't let your stress hold you back- you'll never know how good you are at something unless you try it.

keeping yourself motivated:

find your 'why'. before you even start something knew you need to really know WHY you're doing it, and why it's important to you.

create a fun routine. before i go to water polo practice i have a whole routine- playing some music, cleaning my room, and having fun while getting ready for it. before i go to any sort of practice i always like to make it something that's fun to get ready for.

repeat positive thoughts. when you try something new you're going to have times when you're doing really bad, and thats normal! the key is acknowledging when your thoughts are toxic and then moving into more positive thinking.

keep track of progress. when i first started the swim team a couple years ago i kept a journal where i'd write the date and progress i made- even if it was little progress like having cleaner dives or dropping half a second on my personal best. it's good to see your progress laid out and it makes you feel prouder of yourself.

conclusion:

anytime you're taking up a new hobby or something, you're always going to have times that you fail or do worse than you expected. the most important thing is overcoming this feeling, and i think that's the real key to success- is to keep pushing and seeing how you can do better. :)

#self improvement #that girl #that girl 2024 #pink pilates princess #healthy habits #queenofcoquette #it girl #self care

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gachagon · 2 months

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This is big spoilers for the commercials in the Awayfrompryingeyes website on the Welcome Home site.

I've been saying since DAY 1 that Eddie Dear was going to be one of the most important Neighbors to pay attention too, aside from Julie, Frank, and Sally. And this update just practically confirmed it, I had this long running suspicion about Eddie Dear, and it's that I think he was one of the first besides Wally to gain sentience in a way.

I know most people believe Wally was the one who "woke" up first essentially and was able to see the reality of what they were actually living in, but I think Eddie Dear was the first of Wally's friends to actually wake up. My reasoning for this is that Eddie's "backstory" on the neighborhood page is so vague and strange compared to the other neighbors. He's the ONLY one who doesn't remember where he came from, and we see routinely throughout these updates that he's kind of the odd man out a lot of the times.

And that's not totally unusual for a kids show, but there's something about Eddie that just points to him being a lot different from the other puppets. Like that he's also the only one who's able to actually tell what time it is, as he's the only neighbor with a real watch.

And he really REALLY wants to fit so badly into the world of Welcome Home that he sticks to his job as a mailman as much as he can. But even looking at his interactions with the others, you can tell he's not quite playing the role he's been set as perfectly.

I don't think Home (the house) had anything to do with Eddie waking up, I actually think it was a combination of Eddie just not being able to mesh well with the part he has to play and the other characters breaking his routine without asking him. The moment that really shakes him is when he can hear the Narrator say "And Eddie Dear was happy." and i think that's because he really doesn't know if he is happy or not. Home is still strange because its obviously the one thing that Eddie fixates on when he first gains sentience, but I don't think its what shook him out of just being a puppet only.

Eddie is also so obviously playing along with the idea of Homewarming and doesn't actually know much about it. But he's not letting the others know this, as when he's alone is when he tells himself to just "focus on the festivities" instead of the other confusing parts of Homewarming. When he's with Poppy decorating the tree (with turkey...? and gravy...?) He just makes it seem like what they're doing is a no brainer, and something everyone does during the holidays.

But when he starts spiraling at the party, all of the things he helped decorate look strange and confusing to him. He can't focus on anything, staring into the wallpaper makes it seem worse, and the fabric of his own reality is literally being ripped at the seams (there's just an excessive amount of video tearing which I equate to Eddie's sense of sanity at the moment and just how present he really is)

It's here that Eddie finally realizes just what they're doing, and what everything really truly looks like. Eddie even tries to focus solely on Frank's face to sort of ground him, but the goddamned credits for the episode itself is playing over Frank's face and obscuring his vision. The scene itself wants to move on but Eddie is still able to see what the audience normally wouldn't be able too, and that split from his reality to ours is what makes him freak out in the end.

#welcome home update #welcome home #happy homewarming #welcome home theory #eddie dear #welcome home spoilers

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kiiwiigii · 7 months

Text

Mine

Jasper x Vampire!Fem!Reader

Summary: You make the mistake of wearing someone else's hoodie.

Warnings:

NSFW 18+

Smut

The Major *wink, wink*

Possessive sex

Oral (F. receiving)

Cream pie

Word Count: 2.8k+

Requested?: For Kinktober!

Intense and angry possessive sex with jasper pleaaaaaase 🙏

A/N: A special thank you to @alecvolturi and @demetris-cocksleeve who both encouraged me to not bin this. This was the most frustrating one I have written so far. But I hope you enjoy!

I honestly should have seen it coming.

It would be just my luck to be left alone with Jasper while the family had decided to take separate vacations.

Coming out of the newborn stage at 2 years, I still didn't feel comfortable enough to be out in the world just yet. Alaska was a safe haven for me until I felt I was ready. So, Jasper had stayed behind, essentially playing babysitter.

And it was awkward as hell.

I think it was obvious that I had a crush on him.

Obvious to everyone in the fucking house.

Including Jasper.

And I knew he could feel it. Which was as embarrassing as it sounds. And it was quite obvious that he didn't feel the same way, since he had never acted on it.

We were just friends.

And as awkward as it was, I sucked it up and enjoyed his company instead.

At least he couldn't hear my thoughts, unlike poor Edward.

Jasper made sure that we had something new to do every day, but he also gave me space when he sensed I needed it. In a weird way, it felt like we had been growing closer, and I had caught him looking at me often, something flashing in the back of his eyes. And like me, he would look away quickly.

It was like a sort of dance that neither of us would admit to.

I sat on the kitchen counter, watching the snow drift by in thick flurries through the large windows. Alice had given us the heads-up that a storm was rolling in during one of her daily check-ins. Jasper and I had just returned from hunting a few hours ago, and despite being cold-natured now, I was still uncomfortably cold. I held a cup of hot water in my hands. Not to drink, but it made me feel somewhat normal, and it warmed my hands fairly well.

I let my mind wander. I should go sit in the living room where the fire was, I'd be much warmer. But Jasper was in there. And every time I even looked at the fire all I could think about was him taking me right there on the floor in front of it, the plush rug soothing against the skin of my back-

I squirmed a little at just at the thought of it.

"Darlin'?"

I blinked up at Jasper. I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn't even been paying attention to my surroundings. He had only taken to calling me 'darlin' recently and it practically set my body afire. By God, if I could blush, I would be beet red. Quickly clearing my thoughts, I smiled up at him.

"Hey, Jazz."

"What are you wearing?"

I looked down at what I had on. Shorts and a hoodie.

"Clothes?" It came out as a question.

"Yes, I can see that. But why are you wearing Emmett's clothes?"

I started at the anger in Jasper's tone, surprised and wary. I eyed him quizzically.

"Because. I wanted his hoodie. I like it."

Jasper scowled, and disappeared before reappearing a moment later, one of his own hoodies in hand

"Here. This is much warmer, and I know you're cold."

"Why do you care?" I raised a brow at him in challenge.

This was completely out of character for Jasper and to say that I was confused was an understatement.

We had a mild stare-down until Jasper actually growled at me. I sucked in a breath, heat shooting straight between my legs, and I squeezed my thighs together again.

Fuck.

That was playing dirty.

And given my current state of emotions, he absolutely had to know it.

"Just get rid of it." He demanded.

"What?"

"Emmett's hoodie. Get. Rid. Of. It."

I gulped, a little uncomfortable with Jasper's sudden mood swings. I quickly took the hoodie from his hands. It was his dark blue one, my favorite one to see him in.

He continued to stare at me, waiting, and I cleared my throat. Finally, he raised a brow at me, and I rolled my eyes, trying to fight the bit of embarrassment rolling through me.

"Well, if you insist on me putting it on right here and now, Jasper, I'm going to insist that you turn around."

His brows furrowed adorably. "And why would I need to do that?"

I looked away from our little staring contest, biting my lip. "Because I don't have anything else on under it."

Jasper straightened up and his eyes darkened as he looked at me, and if I'd had a beating heart it would have leaped at the burning look in his eyes.

"What?" I said defensively. "It's soft. I like how it feels! Most of my clothes are scratchy!"

He turned around quickly, his hands coming up to massage his temples. Keeping an eye on him I quickly discarded Emmet's hoodie and slid my arms through the sleeves of Jasper's, zipping it all the way up. I discreetly buried my nose into it for a moment. It was so much softer than Emmet's, and it smelled significantly better. Like Jasper.

Fuck.

I could feel the wetness beginning between my thighs.

I needed to escape.

Like, now.

I couldn't exactly hide it, but it was way better than creating an uncomfortable atmosphere for the both of us.

"You know, you wouldn't feel so cold if you put more clothes on." He was facing me again.

I felt embarrassment flood through me. He had a point. And it was also the perfect excuse to escape-

"Not that I really mind," He continued with a smirk, his eyes raking up and down my form. "I like what I see. And I like how you look in my clothes. Especially in my clothes."

My brain screeched to a halt, my lips parting in shock. His southern drawl had suddenly gotten deeper. This sounded like the Major talking. I had only met the Major once, right before Victoria's army came for Bella. That had been… an experience to say the least. And if that part of him was coming out, then that explained his sudden shift in mood.

"And I have to say that I also prefer you wrapped up in my scent."

He was practically purring.

I gulped, suddenly on edge. "Why?"

Jasper's eyes were predatory, nearly black. "Because darlin', you're mine."

My eyes widened at his words. He approached me slowly, hands reaching out on either side of me on the counter, my legs falling open unconsciously and allowing him into my space. He leaned in, eyes watching me with such intensity that I forgot how to breathe. Perhaps it was a good thing that I didn't need to breathe because before I knew it, I felt a wave of lust roll through me, and it wasn't just my own.

I gasped as he leaned in, claiming my lips with his own, and my legs wrapped around him without a second thought. He groaned, cupping my neck as he tilted my head back, while his other hand gripped my waist possessively. He tasted like mint, with a small tinge of copper from hunting earlier in the day. He swiped his tongue along my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth obediently, letting him in.

After a moment he pulled back and buried his nose into my neck, his hands sliding down to grip my thighs. I tried to catch my breath, despite not really needing it.

"You taste so much better than I thought you would." His voice was low and husky, muffled by the fabric of his hoodie.

Goosebumps erupted across my body, and I could practically feel the wetness begin to drip down my thighs to the counter. Jasper must have caught on to my confusion and doubt because he gripped my thighs even tighter.

"Oh, yes. You have no idea how many times I've thought about you, darlin'." He pulled back to look at me. "Of all the ways I could have you. In my bed. On the couch. On the floor. Against the wall."

I gasped, thighs squeezing together around his waist.

"That's right, darlin'. I've lost count of how many times I've thought of making you mine."

"Yours?" I squeaked.

"Mine."

Oh my.

Oh fuck.

I really, really liked it when he was possessive.

I moaned, clutching his shirt, a bit dazed as he swooped in for another kiss.

"Oh," I gasped as he kissed his way down, lightly raking his teeth against my neck, his hands tracing invisible lines over my curves.

I could feel every inch of him pressed up against me, and it was almost too much. I rolled my hips up against him and he pulled away, breathing heavily.

Before I could comprehend what was happening, I was being lifted off the counter. One of his arms wrapped around my waist while the other slid under my ass to hold me up. I held on for dear life as he carried me to the living room and sat me down on the couch. I stared at him as he kneeled in front of me on the floor, spreading my legs open slightly.

Jasper suddenly paused, looking up at me with dark eyes.

"This is your one and only chance to tell me no. Otherwise, I will have you, right here and now, and there will be no going back."

I gulped but said nothing, choosing to nod instead.

"Use your words, darlin'. I need to hear you say yes."

"Y- yes."

"That's my girl."

He smirked before reaching up and tugging at the zipper of the hoodie, the fabric slowly falling away to reveal my nakedness underneath. I automatically went to cover my breasts when Jasper grabbed my wrists with a warning growl.

"Don't you even think about it darlin'. You are mine. And I want to admire every inch of you."

My breath caught in my throat, and I felt a thrill of pleasure and submission at his words, my body betraying me as my nipples hardened.

Jasper let out a purr of pleasure and slowly let go of my wrists, pulling my arms away from my body and exposing my breasts to his hungry gaze.

I gasped when he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around my waist, splaying his hands across my back beneath the hoodie, and pressing me to him, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. My hands automatically came up to twist themselves in his hair, my back arching at the wet sensation of his tongue on my skin.

I couldn't help but moan as he nipped and licked before biting down lightly, teasingly. I gasped as the pain and pleasure mixed together, creating a delicious sensation that had my pussy practically pulsing. The sensations were overwhelming, and I couldn't keep still. I started to rock my hips against him, moaning.

Before I knew it, he was pulling away, leaving me to whimper at the loss of his tongue.

Jasper slowly began to peel my shorts down my legs, exposing my soaked panties.

I squirmed at the way he took in the sight of me before traveling back up to my face.

"Mine." he purred, his eyes never leaving mine as he hooked his thumbs into my panties. He gave them a little yank, and I felt them slide down my legs. "Fuck. You're gorgeous."

His hands trailed up my smooth, silky legs and I quivered as his hands got closer to my heated center. I couldn't help but whimper as one of his hands traced the apex of where my thigh met my pussy, right along the panty line.

"Please." I begged softly.

I gasped in surprise at how quickly he moved, one hand gripping my ass to pull me closer, and the other quickly shoving his face into my soaked pussy.

I had to bite back another moan, my back arching as he slid his tongue along my folds and began to lick me.

"Holy fuck," I managed to croak out, my eyes nearly rolling to the back of my head.

The feeling of his hot tongue along my slick folds was almost like an electric shock, hitting me in the base of my stomach and sending sparks throughout my body, ending in my fingertips, which had tangled themselves in Jasper's golden locks.

I had completely lost control of myself, practically squirming with each swipe of his tongue. Jasper grasped my thighs to keep me still, relentless in his assault. He started swirling his tongue around my clit, teasing me, and slowly driving me closer to my climax. The feeling of his mouth finally deciding to suck on my clit sent me right over the edge.

I let out a cry as I came hard, gasping for breath. Jasper didn't let up, continuing to viciously lap up my juices as he sent me spiraling into yet another orgasm.

By the time my breathing had returned to normal, he had somehow managed to escape from my hold and was standing in front of me.

"We're not done yet, darlin'."

I swallowed thickly. He smirked, watching me intently as he slowly unbuttoned his jeans, making me even more aware that I was unable to get rid of my burning need for him. He slid his jeans down and kicked them off before stepping close to me. I could smell the faint scent of me on his breath and I licked my lips in anticipation as he inched closer.

"We're not done until you can't walk."

I sucked in a surprised breath, pussy practically pulsing with need.

Jasper chuckled as he pushed me back on the couch and spread my legs wider. His touch was soft and gentle as he spread my pussy open and slid two fingers inside me, stroking them in and out yet again. This man had magic fingers. And if he had me coming undone with just his tongue and fingers alone, it made me wonder what he was able to do with his cock.

"I have to make sure you're nice n' ready for me darlin'." He murmured. "Here, put your hands up under your knees for me. Just like that. Now, don't let go."

I obeyed, chest heaving and now fully exposed in a way I never thought possible. Jasper grinned before leaning in and kissing me deeply, tugging at my bottom lip with his teeth.

I could taste myself on his lips and it only made me more aroused. He slowly slid his fingers out of me and replaced them with his hard, throbbing length.

When had he lost the underwear??

I didn't have much time to think about it before he was pushing himself inside me, filling me up in one smooth thrust.

I let out a ragged breath in surprise.

"Jasper!" I squeaked.

I was so full that I could feel every inch of him, so thick and hard.

Jasper barely stopped to pause, bending down to nip at my ear in admonishment before he started thrusting in and out of me, a slow, steady rhythm that had me moaning and gripping the underside of my knees for dear life.

Fuck.

He was hitting that spot again, and I had the feeling that I wouldn't be seeing only stars this time around. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to another orgasm, the pleasure building up inside me until I couldn't take it anymore.

"Jasper," I gasped out, my nails digging into my thighs. "I'm gonn- gonna come."

He grinned before driving himself even deeper into me, his pace picking up as he started to drive me closer and closer to the edge, feeling my walls practically strangling his cock.

"Come for me, Darlin'." He purred.

My toes curled in pleasure as the coil building in my belly snapped, and I came hard, my body shaking and my pussy clenching around him. Jasper followed suit a few seconds later, his body going rigid as he came inside me.

"Don't move." He ordered.

Jasper paused before pulling out, looking down at me with a satisfied grin, eyes still dark and intense. I was panting, doing my best to catch my breath yet again while holding my legs up. I could feel his seed dripping out of my pussy and onto the couch.

He licked his lips, taking in the sight of me and I nearly moaned at the thought of what he was seeing. I must look like a wreck. Completely ruined. Half dressed in his hoodie and completely defiled, his cum running down my pussy and ass.

Jasper smirked.

"Oh, darlin'. You look perfect that way."

{Kinktober} // {Masterlist}

Taglist: @alecvolturi @belladonna-xox @hyperuseless @jana-jaeynneee @itsmytimetoodream @lack-lust-3r @pawspurpaw @pooka167 @rosedpetal @targaryenmoony @twilightlover2007 @lucansmina @alecvolturiswifeforever

Wanna be notified when I post a new fic? Ask to join my taglist!

#jasper hale x reader #jasper hale #twilight #the twilight saga #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #smut #jasper hale smut

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parkerslatte · 4 months

Text

Finding Home || Part Two

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: none

Summary: After spending the whole night talking with Y/N, Azriel is summoned to Rhys’s office where he has a very particular set of mission for him.

Finding Home Masterlist

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The morning after Azriel left Y/N’s apartment, he left with a wide smile on his face. It felt nice to have a conversation with someone that wasn’t constantly surrounded by their mate or have a child run up to them halfway through the conversation and completely take their attention away. For the first time in a while, Azriel was fully relaxed while having a conversation. Even as he made his way to Rhys’s office, he still held that relaxation within his body. Even if he had fallen asleep on her sofa with his wings tucked tightly to his body, the shadowsinger had never slept so soundly. The only thing that awoke him was the tap of Rhys against his mental shields demanding his attention.

Azriel knocked on the door to Rhys’s office and faintly heard him calling him in. Azriel stepped inside and found Rhys sitting at his desk looking exhausted. Usually Rhys took pride in his appearance but as he sat behind his desk still in his satin pyjamas, Azriel couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh.

“Long night?” Aziel commented, sitting in the chair opposite.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Rhys answered.

Normally Azriel would ask him what kept him up all night but this time he didn’t, only knowing that it would be one of two answers. Feyre or Nyx. Deciding not to ask, Azriel instead asked a different question. “Why did you ask me to come here?”

Why did you pull me away from the one place I could truly be relaxed? That was the question Azriel really wanted to ask.

“Ah, that,” Rhys said. “Well we were all worried about you last night.”

“Oh,” Azriel said, deflating a little in his chair.

“You were there one moment and when Elain turned around to ask if you wanted to hold Hycinth again, you were gone,” Rhys said.

The suspicions Azriel had about no one noticing he left were confirmed. Azriel could always escape somewhere undetected but late night he made sure that his footsteps were heard. He made sure he opened the front door a little louder than normal. And he made sure to close it with more force than necessary. If anyone was paying any attention they would have easily heard that he had left. Clearly no one was paying any attention to him at all.

“I just wanted to go home,” Azriel answered. “Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.”

“Weren’t you enjoying yourself?” Rhys countered.

There was a brief moment of hesitation from Azriel before he answered. “I was, I was just tired. I hadn’t had much sleep the night before.” It was a bad lie and Azriel knew it. Rhys could immediately see through the lie too, but to save Azriel from explaining himself further, Rhys didn’t question him on it.

“Was that all you needed?” Azriel asked.

“No,” Rhys said and threw a file across the desk to Azriel.

“What is this? Another mission,” Azriel asked, picking it up.

“Of sorts,” Rhys said.

Azriel opened the file and stared at it, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “‘Have a beach day?’, ‘Feed the ducks?’, ‘Go to the theatre?’. What is this, Rhys?”

“These are personal missions for you,” Rhys answered. “Myself, as well as Cassian and the others have all noticed how absent you have been recently–”

“I have been on missions–”

“Not physically,” Rhys said. “Mentally. You barely talk to anyone unless you are spoken to. You don’t tease Cassian for a stupid comment he makes. You don’t even play with Nyx as much as you used to. Last night he asked why you don’t take him to the park anymore.”

“I–” Azriel cut himself off because he didn’t have an answer. Everything Rhys said was true.

“These missions are for you to try and enjoy yourself,” Rhys explained. “Do them in whatever order you like, but in three months' time, if I don’t see all of them ticked off, I won’t be very happy, Azriel.”

Azriel looked down at the list. There were thirty things on it ranging from small things like cooking a meal for himself to large things like jumping from the tallest mountain in The Night Court and seeing how long it takes for him to open his wings to fly.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Rhys, I don’t need to do these things. I am perfectly fine.” Another lie. Rhys once again didn’t mention it.

“Three months, Azriel,” Rhys said and stood from his chair. “Now, I have my mate waiting for me upstairs. We have about twenty minutes before Nyx wakes up.”

Azriel didn’t respond with a teasing remark like he usually does. Of course Rhys can’t even stay for a moment longer to just talk to Azriel. If he had only decided to stay for a few moments longer, Azriel might have opened up to him. All Azriel did was stare at the file in front of him, failing to notice Rhys’s lingering gaze on him before we swiftly left his office.

Three months to do thirty tasks and most of them were downright stupid. Though Azriel had to admit that some of them sounded appealing, he guessed that those would have been either Feyre, Nesta or Elain’s idea. Azriel would prefer if Rhys sent him on a mission, preferably a long one. Then he maybe wouldn’t need to spend every waking moment around happy and in love couples.

With a sigh, Azriel stood to his feet and allowed his shadows to encase him, taking him somewhere else.

***

Y/N stepped out of her apartment and into the cool air, her thick scarf wrapped around her neck. She was tired and had a dull ache in her neck from falling asleep on her sofa at an awkward angle. Though she wouldn’t have changed one moment from her night. Y/N never would have thought that being in the company of the shadowsinger would be pleasant but it had to be one of her favourite Solstice’s. No large spectacle, just two friends– if that is what Y/N could call their relationship– sitting together and talking.

The air was cold and Y/N wrapped her coat tighter around her body. It was a large effort from Y/N to leave her apartment, the only driving force was her needing milk and she regretted not picking it up the previous night when she bumped into Azriel.

She wondered how he was doing. When he woke that morning he seemed deflated and in a rush to leave. Of course he reassured her that it was nothing to do with her. In fact, he told her that the night they had spent just sitting and talking was the best night he had had in a while. When he rushed out that morning, Y/N wanted to call out to him to ask if he wanted to get a coffee or something similar. But as she went to speak the words died on her tongue, it was too much like asking him on a date.

As Y/N stepped away from the door of her apartment, she collided with a firm chest and a familiar scent surrounded her. Strong arms shot out to keep her upright before being retracted away quickly as if touching her had burnt.

“Y/N,” Azriel’s smooth voice chimed through the air around her. He still wore the same clothes he had left in only hours before. This time he held a file in his hand that she knew he didn’t have when he left her apartment.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” he apologised. “I didn’t even mean to come back here.”

Y/N’s shoulders slumped the smallest amount at Azriel’s revelation. He hadn’t wanted to come back to her. Maybe not asking him for coffee was a good idea.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said, trying not to let the disappointment lace her tone. “Did you leave anything inside? I can get it for you.”

“No, no,” Azriel said. “And I didn’t mean that I didn’t want to come back here. I did want to believe me. I just didn’t think I would come back here unconsciously.” There was a slight blush adorning Azriel’s cheeks that made Y/N laugh. His head shot up at the sound.

“What?” He asked, a small smile spreading across his face.

“It’s cute when you are flustered,” Y/N said, which only caused the blush on his cheeks to deepen. “So, what’s up with the file? It looks…official.”

Azriel scoffed quietly. “It’s far from that.”

Azriel thrust the file forward and Y/N took it hesitantly. “Should I even be reading this? I’m not exactly part of this court’s politics.”

“Just read it,” Azriel said, his voice soft.

Y/N opened the file and she immediately started to chuckle. “‘Feed a duck’?”

Azriel groaned. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s funny,” Y/N replied and continued to look down the list. “What exactly is this for?”

“Rhys and the others thought it would be a good idea for me to enjoy myself because they have noticed I have distanced myself lately,” Azriel explained.

Y/N raised her gaze from the paper in front of her to Azriel’s. His eyes bore into hers and she could feel the frustration residing in them.

“I don’t see how any of this is going to help,” Azriel said. “All of these tasks are pointless.”

“Some of them seem fun,” Y/N tried to reason.

“On my own?” Azriel replied. “The whole reason why I’ve been feeling like this is because I feel alone. It is because I have no one to do anything with. Now they have set me tasks that make sure I am on my own.”

“I can do them with you,” Y/N answered quickly, not thinking about Azriel’s possible responses.

A look of surprise briefly flashed across Azriel’s face before it returned to his neutral one. His eyes jumped from Y/N’s to the file in her hands. “You don’t need to do them with me. It’s my mission and I won’t drag you along with me.”

Y/N smiled. “I wouldn’t class feeding the ducks as a mission, Azriel. And most of these seem fun. ‘Have a beach day’? I’ve never been to a beach. Oh, and go to the theatre! I love the theatre! These are fun, Azriel!”

Azriel rolled his eyes, though Y/N could see him trying to fight away a smile. “Would you really do them with me? You only met me last night.”

Y/N shrugged. “Well they seem fun and this is the perfect way for us to get to know one another.”

Azriel looked at the file in her hands and he allowed the smile he had been fighting away to break out on his face. Y/N felt her insides melt at the sight. His smile lit up his whole face. Any feeling that had been present on his face before instantly vanished and was replaced by undeniable happiness.

“Thank you for doing this with me, Y/N,” Azriel said sincerely. “So where should we start?”

Y/N pointed to number seven on the list. “Number seven, get some coffee.”

Azriel smiled before taking the file away from Y/N and folded it away, he offered his arm to Y/N and she took it. It felt natural.

“Lead the way, shadowsinger,” Y/N replied and the two were off down the street. The milk Y/N originally set off to purchase was completely abandoned.

Taglist:

@justdreamstars @naturakaashi @thesunloveschips @hijabi-desi-bookworm

- strike through could not be tagged -

#azriel fluff #acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel

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mooshywrites · 4 months

Note

ahhhh i loved the falling in to their lap fic!! Something in same lane but different, a not shy gn s/o falling into the lap of someone else in the camp and they get jealous cue complicated feelings. Maybe for Astarion, Gale, Zevlor, Dammon, and any other characters you like?

Love your work either way 💕

A/N - hellllllls yes 💕

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Jealousy ~

Astarion -

~ It wasn’t on purpose at all, you just happened to land right in Wyll’s lap. Who could blame you for laughing so hard you couldn’t breath and losing your balance in the process?

~ You could practically feel the Vampire’s eyes boring holes into the back of your head as soon as it happened

~ He’d try to play it cool throughout the rest of the evening, making a few more snide comments to Wyll than normal

~ He doesn’t quite know what to think about the feelings he’s having. He’s usually the one being chased after all

~ You catch him sulking at his tent, trying to hide how out of sorts the whole thing has made him

~ Asking him about it only has him brushing it off with a sarcastic “Why would anything be the matter, darling?”

~ Two could play at that game, you just snap back that you’d spend time with Wyll instead

~ In only a split second, his arms would be pinning you to him. His red eyes pierce into your startled gaze

~ His lips are a breath away as he speaks in a voice only you can hear

~ “The only one that will have your attention tonight, pet, is me”

Gale -

~ When you stumbled into Halsin’s arms, you didn’t think much of it. It happened so fast

~ Gale, who was close by, simply made a joke about your clumsiness.

~ You, however, could see the subtle change in his demeanor. His jaw clenched a little tighter, his hands fidgeting a little more, his gaze focused more on your every word

~ For the next few hours, he barely left your side, trying his best to make you laugh, to make you pay attention to him

~ You knew what this was, knew what he was trying to do. The attention was both adorable and more than a little flattering

~ It wasn’t until you planted a soft kiss on his nose that he finally smiled again, even breathing a sigh of relief

~ “I thought I was going to have to tell Tara that you didn’t love me. She would have been none too pleased”

Zevlor -

~ Zevlor tried to brush off the green eyed envy he felt, seeing you casually draped across Shadowhearts lap

~ He tried to convince himself he was too old to be feeling this way, to be annoyed that you were sitting like that with who he hoped was just a friend

~ He couldn’t sit still, leg bouncing and tail swishing around furiously

~ He’d even try clearing his throat, but obviously you were not getting the memo

~ With a snort, he’d stand up and make his way to you. Your innocent gaze snapping up to him did nothing to stop him from scooping you up, stealing you away with a huff

~ All you could do was giggle and tease him for carrying you off like some sort of caveman

~ “Perhaps I need to remind you who it is you belong to”

Dammon -

~ Dammon would be a nervous mess when he walked in to you sitting on Astarion’s lap

~ A flurry of thoughts would fill his brain. What were you doing with him? Surely it was platonic, right? What even led to this?

~ It wasn’t until Astarion caught his attention and rolled his eyes that he saw…

~ Astarion fanned your face furiously, your skin pale and eyes closed. Apparently the heat of the day had gotten to you, rendering you completely faint

~ Even at the realization, Dammon couldn’t help but pluck you out of Astarion’s arms, ignoring the sarcastic quip from the pale elf

~ His tail wraps possessively around your ankle as he brings you to the shade, continuing to fan you

~ He sighs a breath of relief as you come back to, smiling brightly at your confused expression

~ “I’m glad you’re awake! I had to rescue you from a monster”

Kar’niss -

~ Kar’niss didn’t know how to explain most of the feelings he had toward you, but seeing you trip and land on Gale? He knew the name of this one well - red hot jealousy

~ It was all he could do to bite his tongue and not snarl aloud. He was trying his best to act more civilized for you, he couldn’t exactly fall back now, right?

~ Instead, he wordlessly clicked towards the two of you, looming menacingly

~ It took a few minutes of coaxing from you to relax him, finally managing to call your guard dog off the poor wizard

~ He became your shadow the rest of the evening, trailing after you like a lost puppy

~ As the moon rose high in the sky, his eyes grew more and more vulnerable

~ He finally took your hands in his own, his voice almost shy

~ “Promise you won’t leave Kar’niss for someone like him”

#bg3 headcannons #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate gale #gale x reader #bg3 gale #baldurs gate zevlor #zevlor x reader #bg3 zevlor #baldurs gate dammon #dammon x reader #bg3 dammon #bg3 fanfiction #headcannons #tiefling headcannons

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thankskenpenders · 6 months

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Help me out here: Why is there so much Ian Flynn hate going around lately? I thought everyone loved that he was contributing to the games. Now suddenly they aren't. I guess that's par for the course for this series but I don't get it. He isn't perfect but I like what he's done. Am I a weirdo?

Ian Flynn has always had a lot of fans, but any creator putting their work out there is going to have detractors as well. That's just the nature of being an artist. To some extent, it's no big deal. He's not a perfect writer. Nobody is! I consider myself a fan of his work, but I've criticized plenty of individual writing decisions from him on here.

But Ian doesn't just have critics. He has his own obsessive hatedom. And the specific nature of Ian's hatedom is... interesting.

A decade ago, Ian was only the guy writing for Archie Sonic, meaning any debates over his work were quarantined within that tiny niche of the larger Sonic fandom. Only people who kept up with the comics month to month had any real reason to have an opinion on the guy, which means we're talking about merely thousands of fans as opposed to millions.

Within that group, he had some haters. You had the people who were mad about story changes made during his run, particularly things like ancillary characters getting killed off (although over the years we've learned that most of those were editorial mandates from Mike Pellerito). You had the people mad that Ian didn't push their favorite ship, with feuding SonAmy and Sonally fans claiming that he was CLEARLY biased towards one or the other. You had the people who just really, really liked one of the previous writers way more - usually Penders, as hard as that may be to believe today. That sort of thing. Pretty normal comic fandom type stuff. Again, it comes with the territory.

Unfortunately, many of those haters only got worse over time, morphing into reactionaries who constantly try to incite Comicsgate type culture war bullshit.

There are people still mad at Ian for making Sally bi and pairing her with Nicole instead of Sonic in the later Archie comics. There have been elaborate MS Paint red string conspiracy boards explaining how people like Ian and Jon Gray have apparently been destroying the franchise from the inside for years by Making Sonic Woke. (Jon gets dragged into this because people are still mad about him drawing The Slap 20 years later. Yes, really!!) There was an unhinged change.org petition trying to get Ian fired, specifically from people who were mad that the Freedom Fighters aren't in the IDW comics. There was even a very sad little fan campaign from these people trying to get Sega to move the Sonic comic license away from IDW and over to Udon, because they thought Udon would bring Sally and Bunnie back and also make them sexy again. There's a lot of this.

(Unfortunately, Penders has also exacerbated this by gossiping about Ian on Twitter and giving these fans ammo, but that's a whole 'nother discussion.)

The thing is, for years, people who only played the games or watched the cartoons had no reason to pay attention to any of this. Now, though, Ian isn't just writing for some weird spinoff comics that only the super nerds read. Now he's writing comics that are canon to the games, and ALSO some of the games themselves, and ALSO consulting on other tie-in media like Sonic Prime, and ALSO writing the official Sonic encyclopedia, and ALSO serving as part of the new Sonic Lore Team at Sega. And on top of all this, he's got an increasingly popular podcast where he fields questions about his work on all of these things, which serves as one of the fandom's main windows into creative decisions being made behind the scenes.

As a fan of Ian's work, it's been really cool to see him rise in prominence. But the dark side of this is that his obsessive haters from the Archie days now have WAY more of a potential audience of their own. Now, every Sonic fan has to have an opinion on Ian. What this frequently means is that you'll have the Comicsgate types taking things Ian writes or says out of context, attempting to get more of the general fandom to yell at the guy.

Unfortunately, there are a wide variety of Sonic fans who take the bait:

You've got hardcore fans who disliked basically any recent piece of Sonic media and are looking for someone to blame.

You've got the people who are concerned about the sanctity of Sonic's canon, who shoot the messenger any time Ian mentions a new retcon from Sonic Team on the podcast - or any time he even mentions the THOUGHT of changing anything about the canon, as we saw recently with the Sol Dimension nonsense.

You've got people who romanticize some sort of mythical artistic vision that Sega of Japan supposedly has (or had) for the franchise. To many of these fans, American contributors like Ian just don't "get" the heart of the series and are trying to turn Sonic into something different. (This "heart of the series" tends to be some mix of Japanese instruction manual lore, the cinematics from Sonic CD, the OVA, and/or the games written by Shiro Maekawa, depending on what Sonic media the fan in question grew up with.)

You've got fans of specific characters or ships who pin the blame for how their faves are depicted entirely on Ian - most vocally fans of Shadow, even though the root problem is that Sonic Team hasn't known what to do with Shadow since 2006. At best this stops at regular old criticism, but at its worst this devolves into claims that Ian has an agenda against certain characters.

You've got fans annoyed by a perceived over-emphasis on comic-original characters in the IDW comics, ignoring the obvious facts that these characters exist because the game cast is so tightly controlled by Sega, and also, you know, that people just like the IDW characters and want more stories about them.

You've got a LOT of discourse over IDW's Sonic being a hero who tries to give his enemies second chances, as if half of Sonic's closest friends aren't already former villains and rivals. Honestly this is very transparently just reheated Steven Universe discourse lmao

You'll also see people who just think they could do Ian's job better. They can't believe that THIS GUY is the American fan working on all these Sonic projects, when clearly THEY understand the characters and lore and themes SO much better than this charlatan.

All it takes is for someone in one of these categories to be unhappy about some recent piece of Sonic media, and for them to come across an out of context quote or comic panel that rubs them the wrong way, and suddenly the leftist Zoomer Sonic fans will join the latest dogpile on Ian alongside the reactionary Comicsgate types who are mad at him for Making Sonic Woke.

In general, when fandoms get upset, they tend to want a scapegoat. A person or two to point a finger at and go "THAT's who ruined the thing I love!" This tends to be based less on reality and more on which contributors are the most visible online. You'll sometimes see teenage and adult fans of children's cartoons single out a storyboarder who's particularly vocal on Twitter, blame them for every story decision they don't like, and harass them off the platform out of a sense of retribution for their favorite ship or whatever. Failing that, fans might choose to blame every nitpick, down to individual lines of dialogue and frames of animation, on a showrunner, just because that's the name they associate with the show. And unfortunately, when it comes to Sonic, Ian is now arguably the most prolific and outspoken contributor on the English speaking internet, and therefore a common scapegoat.

Some of the things I've seen Ian blamed for are truly wild. A lot of people have claimed for YEARS that he's just lying about the existence of creative guidelines and restrictions from Sega - or, as fans call them, The Mandates - even though they're just an inherent aspect of working on a licensed property. Others claim that The Mandates are real, but somehow Ian's fault. A vocal minority of fans have convinced themselves that Ian is the sole reason the Freedom Fighters don't exist in the IDW comics, even though Ian says he's been pushing to bring them back since day one.

Sometimes you'll see people say he ruined shit he didn't even work on. A few weeks ago on Twitter I saw someone claim that Ian had written a rejected script for Sonic Forces in which Tails died. I could not find a source for this for the life of me. As far as I can tell, the rumor seems to have been born from an alleged leaked script for Forces with margin notes from Aaron Webber that criticized the way Tails was written, and also an old tweet where Aaron joked that Tails would die in an upcoming episode of Sonic Mania Adventures. These merged into "Aaron Webber criticized a draft of the Forces script in which Tails died." How'd Ian get dragged into this? Who fucking knows!

It's all just a big game of telephone. All it takes is some asshole to make something up about Ian on Twitter or YouTube or a DeviantArt journal or some forum, and at least a couple people will believe it, and then it gets repeated as fact. Again, this used to be contained by the niche nature of the Archie Sonic fandom, but now there are WAY more people who are receptive to this shit.

It's just sad to me that Ian tries to be so open and honest about his work, to try to explain the rationale for certain things, to keep fans looped in on the direction the franchise is headed, and this just gives the Flynnspiracy types more quotes to take out of context and try to paint him as the devil. If it sounds like I'm being overly defensive and dismissing his critics, man... some of the things I've seen people say directly to him are just unbelievable. People will send paragraphs-long angry screeds in to his podcast that completely tear him apart, and he has to sit there and be like "Well, that's your opinion, and you're entitled to it." People literally pay for special guest interview episodes where they just rapid fire complaints about his writing at him directly to his face. I don't know how he does it. I would snap.

All of this over Sonic the fucking Hedgehog of all things.

I don't know how to wrap this up. Engaging with fandoms online is very tiring, which is why I tend not to do it. Things like this are too common. I guess, just... remember that making art collaboratively is a complicated thing. The people involved are generally trying their best given the circumstances, but they're only human. They make mistakes. But please treat them like humans. Criticism and dogpiling are not the same thing.

#anon #ask #tkp asks #tkp post

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wileys-russo · 6 months

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Could you maybe write something where alessia is dating leahs sister or something? Like alessia and reader fight and leah overhears and trys to protect y/n going straight into overprotective big sister mode.

miscommunication II a.russo x williamson!reader

miscommunication II a.russo

“hey, baby you played brilliantly.” you sat down beside your girlfriend and murmured, placing a hand on your leg. “get off.” the taller blonde warned quietly, shoving your hand off her leg and shuffling away from you further down the bench.

most of the team had filtered out by now, no one really wanting to sit around and reflect on the 4-0 flogging they’d just taken from chelsea which had cost them precious points at this stage of the season.

you however had been absolutely no help to them.

picking up a concussion after you’d not been paying attention in training and ran right into the goal post when trying to go in for a tackle had meant you’d been benched this week for monitoring.

much as you had protested the decision there wasn't a chance your sister would let you risk any sort of injury, the blonde captain of your national team simply fixing you with her infamously stern glare any time you tried.

“lessi-“ you tried again, moving back closer to your girlfriend as she started to take off her boots and socks. “don’t.” was all she mumbled before you could even say a word, again shuffling away from you and shoving her shoes and socks into the kit bag at her feet.

“love please you’re being way too hard on yourself it’s a team sport and you-“ you reached out toward her, flinching as she shoved your hand away and stood suddenly.

“can’t you take a hint? just stay away from me.” your girlfriend snapped, a move incredibly out of character for the normally kind and well mannered blonde you’d fallen in love with, slinging her bag over her shoulder and storming out of the change rooms, drawing the attention and concern of several of your team mates who watched on.

"hey maybe just let her cool-" you heard jen start to warn but never one to believe in leaving things unresolved you ignored her.

chasing after the striker and grabbing her shoulder you tensed as she she spun around and advanced on you instead, having you stumbling backwards.

“i don’t want to hear the same shit you spew every week about how it’s a team sport and no one has a bad game and we can pick ourselves up-“ the taller girl started, practically chest to chest with you now backed up against the wall as a frown etched itself into your eyebrows at her aggressive demeanour.

“you didn’t even play! not that you’d have been any help anyway with how reckless and careless you are half the time which is how you ended up concussed in the first place. you’d have probably cost us a fifth goal!” your stomach dropped at the harsh words, coming from anyone else your skin was thick enough to brush it off, but coming from her? it hurt.

unknown to both you and alessia you weren’t the only one who overheard, your older sister hearing the blondes harsh words and immediately following the source of the noise.

“less baby if this is about what you asked me before please just can we sit down and talk about it? you ran off before you even gave me a chance to-” you grabbed her hands hoping to try and bring her back to baseline but it was no use as she snatched them away.

the girl had caught you off guard during warm ups and had asked you an extraordinarily important question. but not expecting it you'd panicked and blurted out the first thing that came to mind, though before you had time to explain your reasoning she was called back onto the pitch.

“no actually we can’t. you made yourself very clear and if i’m honest it’s got me thinking about it we even have a future if you can’t even consider something like that.” she snapped pushing at your chest as you tried to hug her, clearly frustrated from a shit game and your earlier argument as you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes at the thought of losing her.

“oh and here come the waterworks! that’s convenient isn’t it? the moment something doesn’t go your way you just cry about it. you made me feel about two centimeters tall before and you didn't seem to care then, you’re pathetic.” with that she shoved your chest one last time and turned to leave, only to be met with the burning glare of your very infuriated and incredibly overprotective older sister who’d heard everything as she raced down the hallway.

“what the fuck did you just say to her?” leah growled, balling alessia’s shirt in her fists and harshly pushing her against the wall as a few more of the girls poked their heads out of the change rooms at the commotion.

“get off me leah you haven’t got a clue so why don’t you just keep your nose out of it for once!” alessia snapped as she struggled to break out of the older girls grip, who may have been shorter but sure as hell wasn’t letting her go that easy.

a brief shock flickered across the captains face at the tone and harsh words from the normally soft spoken girl, but all of that disappeared the moment her eyes glanced right and she saw the tear tracks down your cheeks.

“i don’t care if we lose ten to nothing you do not ever speak to her like that you hear me? as her girlfriend, as her friend, as her team mate as anything. far as i can see alessia you’re the pathetic one!" leah shouted as alessia's face paled.

"she did nothing but cheer for you that entire game less, she has always been your biggest fan. and then you’re gonna come here after a piss poor performance by the entire team and take your frustration with that out to rip her down? think again.” your sister growled as alessia struggled to push her off to no success at all.

"lee just get off her, it's a misunderstanding please let her go!" you tried to pry your sisters hands off but she elbowed you away with a shake of her head.

“what did i say to you when you both started dating hm? what did i say alessia? what did you promise me?” leah spat, pushing her against the wall with a loud thump as she saw red and her jaw clenched. “to treat her with respect.” alessia mumbled, wincing as leahs grip tightened, her hand moving to tug on her collar now restricting her airway.

“does that look like she’s been treated with some fucking respect alessia? does it?” leah growled, forcing the blonde to look at you as jen and beth stepped in to try and pull the older girl away. “leah just let her go please it’s fine.” you finally spoke, your voice cracking as you looked at her pleadingly.

“leah thats enough now. let her go!” kim warned seriously as leah’s eyes looked to you, softening at the pleading look on your face as she released the taller striker who immediately bent over coughing and spluttering trying to catch her breath.

“i have never been so disappointed in someone i trust and call a close friend alessia, never.” leah bent down to deliver one final blow, ignoring everyone else who shoved her away.

“we’re going, come.” leah ordered firmly, slinging an arm over your shoulder and dragging you off, your eyes meeting your girlfriends for a fleeting moment as she sat on the ground drinking water before you turned the corner and she was gone.

“would you like to tell me what that was about now please?” your sister asked much more calmly as she pulled into the driveway of your shared flat, the drive home being filled with a suffocating and uncomfortable silence as leah tried to calm herself down.

"you shouldn't have done that." was all you responded with a shake of your head, unbuckling yourself and hastily exiting her car. with a sigh leah did the same, unlocking the car after her and following you inside your shared home.

"shouldn't have stuck up for you? tough luck kid, that's my job." leah warned, following you to your bedroom and sticking her foot in the door as you tried to close it. "just leave me alone." you mumbled into your pillow as you belly flopped into your bed.

"come on. we both know alessia and no matter how much i want to go back and yell at her some more that was out of character for her even after a loss. so what happened?" leah sat down on the edge of your bed, poking at you until you smacked her hands away with a huff and rolled onto your back, covering your face with your arms.

"she asked me to move in with her before the game and i said no." you mumbled quietly, leah pausing for a second to make sure she heard you correctly.

"right, i see." leah nodded slowly. "it doesn't at all excuse how she treated you and i'm still angry with her. but why did you say no?" your sister finished more softly, tapping your leg as you shuffled over and she laid down beside you.

"well cause you need me here, that's the whole reason i moved out of my place and in with you anyway when my lease ended." you quickly excused as leahs head swiveled sideways with a raised eyebrow. "you do! you can't cook, you don't clean, you never go shopping, you-" you started to list things off.

"okay okay no. i can cook, i can clean, i can go shopping. and as for what i know is coming next i don't need you like that anymore. you've been there for me through all of this and through rehab and my surgery but i'm coming out the other side now, i can do things for myself and i've missed that independance." leah smiled sadly, knowing that wasn't the real reason you'd said no.

"plus you hate living with me we argue like twenty two hours of the day." your sister playfully shoved your head making you roll your eyes. "i don't hate it." you mumbled with a sigh. "what's the real reason? no bullshit. you know i can see through you when you lie anyway!" leah pointed out truthfully as you again shrugged and stated it was nothing.

"right, you leave me no choice then." leah grunted as she pulled herself into a sitting position and you gave her a weird look. "what?" you questioned.

"if you won't tell me the truth then i guess we have to do the lie detector like when we were little." leah sighed as your eyes widened and you tried to roll off the bed but your sister was too fast.

"leah no!" you grunted as she sat on top of you and pinned your arms under her knees. "you want to live with me instead of your girlfriend? lie!" leah yelled, poking her bony fingers into your ribs and making you wheeze and struggle to shove her off.

"you told her no because of me? lie!" she yelled again and continued as you furiously tried to push her away. "okay okay fine! get off me and get those bony little sausages away from me." you huffed as she finally let you up, collapsing back down beside you.

"god you're the worst." you groaned, bruises more than likely already forming from the assault. "that sounds like a lie?" leah half sat up as you hurriedly pushed her away making her laugh.

"so, why'd you tell her no then? the truth."

"i'm scared." you admitted, burying your face in your hands in embarrassment. "of what? that girl looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky, its quite sickening really." leah sighed wrenching your hands away.

"well we obviously got together during the euros, then she went back to manchester and i came back to london. we made that work, didn't see each other every day of course but still stayed strong and together." you started as leah hummed.

"then we went to the world cup together, that was fine, things were good. again, with training schedules and room assignments we still had time together and separate." you continued.

"then she moved to arsenal, and of course to london. we see each other all the time, we actually get to have date nights and our time together is just as meaningful as when we were doing distance only this time its so much easier." you sighed, leah still nodding along.

"but we're still able to have time apart. if we move in together we'll see each other at training and at games and then we'll come home and be together like all day every day. i don't want her to get sick of me or for us to fight more or well you know..." you trailed off again burying your face in your hands.

"break up?" leah winced, knowing exactly why this was a fear of yours given its exactly what had happened to her and jordan, something she had seemingly been a little too honest with you about.

"yeah." you sighed, dragging your hands down your face with a huff. "but all i said was no and then she got called away for the game and then we lost and well you already know the rest." leah nodded, a silence falling between the two of you.

before either of you could break it there was a few knocks at the door. "i'll get it." your sister stood up, leaving you behind to wallow in your pity as she pulled open the door, eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the blonde before her.

"hi leah." alessia mumbled, nervously playing with her hands as the older blondes features hardened. "is she here?" your girlfriend asked quietly, leah just staring her down silently. "leah i am so sorry for what i said, i didn't mean a word of it but i need to let her know that please." alessia begged, leah's jaw clenching.

"wait here." and with that the door closed right back into the strikers face.

"it's less." leah leaned in the door frame of your bedroom with her arms crossed as you sat right up. "wait! are you sure? you don't want to give it a little bit of time?" your sister hinted blocking your door. "no i don't. leah i love you and i know you mean well and you will always be my big bad scary sister. but you owe her an apology as well, think it over." you patted her shoulder and ducked under her arm.

your sister giving you your space headed to her own room, though not before giving alessia a very stern glare as you took a deep breath and opened the door.

"hey." "hi." "could i please come in?" you moved aside to let her in, the two of you moving to the living room and taking a seat on the lounge, leaving a fair space between you both.

"i'm really sorry- "i am so sorry-"

you both stopped and shared a small smile, faces both flushed bright red as you nodded for alessia to start.

"so i very obviously owe you an apology. i-look it's not an excuse by any means but i was so confused and frustrated with you saying no and then we lost and i played terribly. i was just...angry and hurt and i lashed out at you which was so unfair." alessia sighed, rubbing her cheeks with her hands.

"but none of what i said was true or right or okay. please i promise you that's not at all how i look at you or how i want you to think of yourself." she pleaded, shuffling a little closer and when you didn't move away she gently placed a hand on your knee.

"it's not. i'm not saying that what you said or how you reacted is okay but i understand you weren't thinking right. i should have recognized you needed some space to cool off before trying to push you into a conversation, and i'm sorry for that." alessia's shoulder visibly sagged in relief as your hand came to rest atop hers.

"so can i ask why you said no to moving in with me?" alessia asked, and you could easily see the disappointment she was trying to hide behind her bright blue eyes.

"when we were doing distance it was hard but it made me appreciate what time we did have together so much, and the same went during tournaments when we'd get the fleeting moments off together just the two of us to go and explore or have a coffee or even just sit and talk." you started to explain, the blonde following your every word.

"then you joined arsenal and moved to london and please i'm not saying i'm not grateful for having you so much closer and being able to see you every single day because i really am. and i know that you moving clubs was not just because of me by any means." you clarified quickly, squeezing her hand which laid dormant on your knee still.

"but i started to panic that if we already played together, trained together, did national camps together and then lived together that, well that we could fight more or you could get sick of me and we might break up and i really don't want that to happen!" you rushed out your final few sentences, afraid of what her reaction might be.

"oh love." alessia gave you a pained smile, moving her hand so that your fingers interlocked. "i could never ever get sick of you, we could spend every minute of every day together for the rest of my life and i would die a very happy woman." she pressed a few soft kisses to your knuckles.

"i can see why you panicked i probably could have started the conversation in a better way and a better time. i do really want us to move in together, but if you're not ready that's okay too." the striker promised as you nodded.

"i'm ready. i love you, but we have to make sure we work on our communication and our trust so that things like this don't happen again." you answered gently as your girlfriend eagerly agreed.

"and if you ever speak to me like that again i won't need leah because i'll knock you out myself." you warned, a smile curling onto the italians lips. "no you wouldn't." she teased lightly. "no i wouldn't, but it doesn't matter because leah would have done it already for me." you added on, alessia's face paling at the thought.

"you're not wrong there." both your heads turned to see the girl in question had returned, stern look on her face. "leah." you sent her a look of your own as she sighed.

"less i'm sorry for getting physical with you but i'm not sorry for standing up for my little sister. i meant it you need to treat her with respect and i'll always be here to remind you if you forget again." your sister warned as alessia nodded furtively and you sighed with a shake of your head.

"you say little as if i'm not only two years younger lee." you groaned as the blonde shrugged, sending alessia one last look and a nod before wandering off to the kitchen. "so we're okay?" your girlfriend asked nervously, taking your hands back into hers.

"yeah we are. i love you." you smiled softly, leaning in to kiss her sweetly, pulling away too soon for the blondes liking as she used your intertwined hands to tug your mouth back to meet hers. until a pillow smacked both of you in the side of the head.

"nah there is to be no making out on my sofa!"

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #woso imagine #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso #leah williamson #alessia russo #woso fanfics

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