#“YOU’RE A GENIUS!!!” Type shake

[artsandstoriesandstuff]

An Enid violently shaking Lou gif for all your Enid violently shaking Lou needs. :)

[luveline]

Hi idk if u have already written this if u have pls igonore but what about the first time bombshell reader calls Spencer beautiful?

fem, 1k

“Gideon has a new prodigy.” 

Your head rises of its own accord. “Yeah?” 

“He's younger than you. Twenty three, I think Hotch said. Fresh out of college, two degrees and working on a third? Or maybe he was getting his doctorate? I couldn't keep up.” Morgan shakes his head in disapproval. “Overeducated and under-experienced. He failed his physicals. The ones he took, anyways.” 

“Ooh, ouch. A baby on the team before me,” you joke with a smile. “Genius baby, but a baby.” 

Morgan smiles when you smile, he's too nice not to, but he picks up soon enough, crossing his arms where he's stood and wrinkling what was once a finely steamed suit jacket. “I don't know what Gideon's thinking.” 

“Does anyone ever know what he's thinking? What's Hotch say about it all?” 

Morgan reads what you're typing from over your shoulder and corrects a mistake. One day you won't need his help, but for now you take as much of it as you can get. You're not too proud to acknowledge when you mess up, you're a realist. Super sensible (in mind if not action). 

“Hotch lets Gideon do what he wants, mostly. What can you do when he's one of the originals?” Morgan leans heavily onto his desk by the forearms and shrugs. You’re similar in this regard; complain, move on. You're similar in other ways, too. That's why you get along. 

“Well, I want to meet this guy,” you say. “We'll be teammates just as soon as Strauss stops hating me. I'm one strategic boxed bouquet from a full pardon.” He laughs and touches your arm like he believes you. “Is he around?” 

“Here they are now.” 

You spin in Morgan's desk chair slowly. Jason Gideon is stalking through the office with his head in the contents of a manilla envelope, while a new face follows behind him talking a mile a minute. 

“Obviously,” you hear Gideon interrupt as they get close enough. “Agent Morgan can explain that to you. Don't overthink it, Spencer, just try to get through it.” 

He doesn't acknowledge you nor Morgan as he leaves Spencer and hurries up the steps leading to his and Hotch's offices. You aren't expecting much else from him. What little Gideon knows about you he doesn't like. If you ever get over the Strauss hurdle, it's him you'd have to convince next. You don't watch him cross the landing, your gaze focused on the man making his timid way toward you. Your lips part briefly, and then quirk into an overjoyed smile. 

“Oh, you're beautiful,” you say without thinking. 

He frowns at you. 

“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, “This is Y/N L/N. She works in the sex crimes division. As you can imagine, we get a lot of crossover.” You stand, holding out your hand. “Y/N, this is Spencer Reid.” 

“I don't shake. Sorry.” 

You press your hand to your chest. “Oh, that's okay. I shouldn't assume…” Your voice melds into a silkiness that has his shapely brows furrowing further, “It's nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. You're really pretty, do you know that?” 

Spencer peeks at Morgan quickly, who laughs good-naturedly. “She's serious, Reid. She's not making fun of you.” 

“You'd know,” Spencer says. It isn't malicious, but it isn't exactly friendly, either.

You twist to frown at Morgan deeply. “Morgan, you're not being nice to him?” 

“I'm being plenty nice, sweetheart, but this is how it works. I gotta haze him a little.” 

“No, you don't.” You tip your cheek toward your shoulder to look at Spencer through your lashes. “He pretends to be worse than he is, I promise. But don't let him neg you, okay? You're smarter than he is–” 

“Hey.” 

“–and he's used to being the office pretty boy. It's jealousy, nothing else,” you finish. Spencer really is gorgeous now you're close enough to see his eyes. A brown like caramelised sugar tented by dark, dark eyelashes. When he smiles, the very slightest hint of teeth shows, and it makes him even prettier. You endeavour to make him smile again. “Sorry if I'm coming off a little strong. It's not my intention.” 

“She's just nervous. You have everything she wants,” Morgan says. 

You sigh forlornly. “Oh, doesn't he?” Spencer's confused pout is even cuter than his smile. “Getting into the BAU is about as easy as walking on water.” 

“For a human,” Spencer says. “Easier if you're smaller. Like a water strider.” 

There's a silence. Morgan is aghast, you think. You're in love. 

“Yeah?” you ask, stars in your eyes as his own spark to life. 

“Because water strider's can transfer their weight, but also due to their hydrofuge hairpiles. Their microhairs.” He catches himself, measuring your expression carefully. “Did you really wanna know?” 

“Do you wanna get a cup of coffee and tell me about it?” you ask. 

His lips part as yours had when you first saw him. 

He's prevented from answering as Hotch's office door opens and the man himself walks out near the railing. “Good, you’re here. I have something to talk to you about.” 

You grin at him. “I'd love to chat, Agent Hotchner, but I'm getting to know your new protégé.”

“I see.” He waits. 

You would ignore him —Hotch has a soft spot for you (or rather, he likes you enough to put up with you, which is more than can be said about other members of his division) and he'd shrug off your dismissal— but you're really keen to hear what he has to say. Perhaps Strauss has changed her mind about your proposed trail basis with the team. 

“I'm so sorry,” you say to Spencer, immediately re-dazzled by his pretty, lovely face. “It was really nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. Maybe next time you can tell me more about it.” 

You give Morgan a quick thank you for the help with your paperwork and trust him to log out of your emails. In your rush up the stairs, you hear a wisp of conversation. 

“Was she messing with me?” 

Morgan laughs. “No, kid. That's how she is.” 

"Oh... She's nice."

"You have no idea."

[januaryembrs]

BLACK CAT GIRLFRIEND | Spencer Reid x reader

request: Hey Congratulations on the 2K! Do you think you could write something with Spencer Reid and a Reader who has lots of tattoos and/or piercings? Like she's the whole "bad girl" stereotype but Spencer and her complement each other so well and have a very sweet and mature relationship. I would love something like that.

description: the team meet Spencer's new girlfriend and she doesn't look quite like they'd imagined

word count: 1.1k

main masterlist

authors note: I officially hit 2k followers this morning!! see my post here for requesting but lets start this milestone off with a bang!! thankyou so much :))))))

Morgan had to admit, you weren’t exactly what he’d envisioned when Pretty Boy had been talking his ear off for months about the girl in his apartment building that had slipped him your number. He wasn’t judgemental, not by a longshot, but Spencer had always seemed like the type to date the preppy, library geek, or even the cutesy geneticist if Maeve had been anything to go off of. 

It’s not like you weren’t hot, he could see that you were a mile away, but you looked like you’d sooner break someone’s wrist for so much as talking to you than fall for their resident genius. 

You smiled tightly, shaking Derek’s hand with a crushing grip, as Spencer introduced you to his team, the obnoxiously loud bass almost drowning out his words as the six of you stood in the bar. 

“Nice to meet you, Spencer talks about you all the time,” You said politely, and no sooner had you let go of the man’s warm hand, two arms were thrown over your shoulders and you were tugged into a hug. 

“I’m Penelope- oh you’re so pretty, Morgan isn’t she so pretty? You should marry Spencer then you can be boyfriend girlfriend for, like, life-” The perky voice was all a jumble as the blonde pulled away, cupping your face, rubbing down your arms kindly, sweetly, like you were swallowing a warm spoon of honey. 

“Penelope, newbie rules, remember,” Emily chimed in, seeing your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of personal space. She could see this ending with the pretty pink bows Garcia had plaited her hair in torn to shreds on the sticky floor, right next to her long barbie locks if your intimidating figure was anything to go off, “Not everyone likes hugs,”

“No, no,” You replied, smiling gently at the woman who was softer than cotton candy, “Hugs are nice,” 

“We’re going to be very best friends, I can feel it, which is funny because my tarot actually said I’d meet a strong Taurus woman- or are you a Scorpio-” Penny’s smile was dazzling, but she was soon ushered to let go of the bear like grip she had on your shoulders by a chuckling Morgan.

“Let the other kids play with her, babygirl,” He said, and you were pulled in another direction towards Emily who gave a polite handshake. 

“Nice ink,��� She said with raised brows as she saw the intricate sketches that covered the back of your hands, trailing up your arm and under the band tee you wore. She knew who they were, though they only dragged up memories of her own days of thick eyeliner and rebelling against her mother. “They must have hurt like a bitch, I got one on my hip and could barely sit for one hour,” 

You snickered, nodding, seeing her eyes trailing over the ones on your ankles and knees where your ripped jeans flashed them all. 

“Bones hurt the most, though the one on my ass is up there for the worst ones,” You replied, and Penny’s brows shot into her hairline, though she giggled like a schoolgirl being told a secret.

“I think we’re gonna need to see the proof on that one,” Morgan teased flirtily, the way he always did, the way he did even with JJ who had a whole child and partner, because it was his natural state of being. 

Spencer smiled as his team warmed to you, though he was quick to pull you to him with a gentle arm around the waist. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Derek, that man was practically his brother, he’d taken bullets for the guy, but he liked having you close, even if to just remind himself that you were all his, including said tattoo on your buttcheek that he’d seen plenty of times. 

The team didn’t need to know that, but you could tell your words had reminded him of it as he pressed a shy kiss behind your ear.

He was careful to avoid the studs and links that glittered from your ear lobe, wrapping over the cartilage on your helix, though he loved to stare at them on nights where you tied your hair up and he could count every one of them. To him you were a work of art, complex and detailed with every glance he stole. You were an illustration in one of his many books, everything he imagined for himself times a million. 

“I’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” You said, looking up at him with puppy eyes, like a lovestruck teenager, fat adoration in your gaze. It oozed out of every inch of you, and JJ thought for a moment that you looked nothing like the scary doberman woman that Spence had originally brought over to meet them. You looked in love, the saccharine, soft and dazed kind of in love. 

“Let me get it for you,” Spencer rooted around his pocket for his wallet, turning to see Morgan’s beer bottle running low, “You having another one?”

“I’m good, my man, you just sort yourself and your lady out,” Derek flashed him a thousand watt smile and clapped him on the shoulder as you entwined your fingers with his, pulling him through the cluster of people and towards the bar, “What a stud,” 

Penelope giggled again, leaning towards her adonis best friend with honeyglow cheeks, watching their genius get led like a dog on a leash. 

“Oh lover boy had got it bad,” She drawled, watching Reid, their Reid, develop an uncharacteristically protective stance as a few men at the bar shot looks up and down your body. She couldn’t blame them either, you were a sight for sore eyes. “Okay, so do I have to be the first one to point out how hot she is or have I maybe had one too many margaritas?” 

“She seems nice,” JJ chose her words carefully, still not entirely sure she would have ever put the two of you together but she saw the way Spence’s eyes got round and longing when he looked over you. He’d clearly said something to make you laugh, and an inked hand raised up to brush his chocolate curls out of his face lovingly, “She seems good for him,”

A murmur of agreement ran through the four of them, Emily taking one more sip of her martini as her eyes roved over your figure returning with something fruity and colourful, “Anyone else dying to know what’s on her ass?” 

-

[hoshifighting]

omg omg knf i’m low-key feeling like a genius.

bb do you know that trend on tiktok where the bridesmaids give the husband naughty polaroids of the bride throughout the celebration I NEED HUSBAND!SVT REACTIONS TO THIS (u being the bride ofc)

also i’m saying need but if this is smth you don’t want to do feel free to ignore. ily mwah 💋

husband!seventeen reacting to your bridesmaids's giving them naughty polaroids of yours — tik tok trend

seungcheol’s in the middle of chatting with the groomsmen when he gets the envelope. he opens it, glancing down, and immediately freezes. his eyes widen as he realizes what he’s looking at. “you guys can’t just do this to me!” he tries to play it off, but he can’t help but sneak a peek at the photo again.

jeonghan's expression doesn’t change. he just stares at the photo, then looks up at your bridesmaids with a knowing smirk. he slips the picture into his jacket like it’s no big deal, but the second he catches your eye across the room, his smirk turns into a full-on grin. oh, he’s definitely going to tease you about this. “just wait, babe,” he mouths silently, making sure you know he’s got something planned.

joshua’s too polite to expect anything out of the ordinary, so when the envelope is handed to him, he opens it without a second thought. his eyes widen immediately, and his cheeks flush a deep red. “oh my god,” he whispers, quickly closing the envelope and tucking it away, glancing around nervously to see if anyone else saw it. he’s mortified, but there’s a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips. he looks over at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

junhui the second his eyes land on the photo, his brows shoot up, and his mouth falls open. “oh… wow,” he mumbles, trying to hold back the grin creeping up his face. he looks around to make sure no one else can see, quickly stuffing the photo into his suit pocket, but his eyes keep darting back to u. he gives you a playful smirk across the room, biting his lip slightly.

hoshi opens the envelope, sees the photo, and immediately lets out a loud “oh my god!” his eyes go wide, and he’s laughing, blushing like crazy. “seriously? right now?” he says, grinning ear to ear, but he’s clearly flustered. he tries to play it cool, but u can see the blush creeping up his neck.

wonwoo doesn’t say a word—just slips the photo into his jacket, giving the bridesmaids a quiet nod. but there’s a glint in his eyes when he looks over at you. he leans back in his chair, arms crossed, watching you adjusting his glasses, hoping that the dream of them hide his red cheeks.

woozi doesn’t know what’s coming when he takes the envelope, and when he opens it, his reaction is instant. his eyes widen, and his face turns bright red. “what the—” he quickly snaps the photo shut. he’s completely flustered, but he’s also low-key impressed. tries to act like it didn’t faze him, but the blush won’t go away. “you’re lucky it’s our wedding day, or you’d be in serious trouble.”

minghao’s expression barely changes, but you can see the slight quirk of his eyebrow. he glances at the photo, then at your bridesmaids with a knowing smirk. “you girls really think you’re slick, hm?” he says quietly, folding the photo and tucking it into his suit jacket. later, he’ll pull you aside, his voice low and teasing. “you’ve got some nerve doing this at our wedding, but I’m not mad about it.”

mingyu’s curious from the start, wondering what kind of wedding surprise your bridesmaids could’ve cooked up. when he sees the photo, his jaw drops. “no way…” he mutters, blinking like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. he blushes instantly, but his eyes keep drifting back to the photo.

seokmin’s the type to open the envelope with the biggest smile, thinking it’s something cute. but when he sees the photo, his eyes go wide, and he lets out a loud, “holy shit!” before clamping his hand over his mouth. his face turns bright red, and he quickly stuffs the photo back in the envelope.

seungkwan’s expecting a cute, heartfelt note or maybe some kind of sweet wedding surprise, so when he opens the envelope and sees the photo, he gasps. “oh my god, no way,” he mutters under his breath, his face instantly flushing red. he glances around nervously, quickly hiding the photo, but his heart’s racing. “you really had to do this today of all days?”

vernon pauses. his eyes widen slightly, and he lets out a quiet, surprised laugh. “wow… okay,” he mutters, nodding to himself like he’s impressed. he slips the photo back into the envelope, tucking it into his pocket with a smirk.

chan’s face turns beet red as he sees the photo, and he almost drops it. “what the—?! are you serious?” he sputters, eyes wide in shock. then he quickly glances over at you, trying to gauge your reaction. he chuckles nervously, clearly flustered but loving the chaos.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ BURNER ACCOUNTS — GOJO SATORU.

contents. fem! reader, loser ex-boyfriend! satoru, exes to lovers, college! au, satoru making burners to watch your stories, miscommunications—satoru is not perfect but he’s trying okay?, gossip icons shoko & suguru <3, i had a silly idea and it turned into 2.6k words my bad

there’s a peculiar account watching your instagram stories—@user273582838, to be exact. you don’t think it’s a very well timed coincidence seeing as you and satoru have just broken up—so you decide to do some digging. 

which of course, means enlisting the help of shoko.

“i think satoru is stalking me,” you mumble, making her pause in the middle of sipping on her energy drink—for a med student, her habits don’t seem every healthy. this is her third one of the day.

“okay,” she nods, “i wouldn’t put it past him, but what makes you say that?”

“look,” you turn your phone to face her, the blank, anonymous instagram account right there on the list of users who have viewed your story. she crinkles her brows, blinking for a moment before humming.

“that definitely seems like something he’d do,” she nods—and then, “i have an idea.”

“okay,” you brighten, nodding enthusiastically, “what’s the plan?”

“try and log in with that user.”

“shoko,” you look at her like she’s grown two heads. maybe the lack of sleep is finally getting to her—no amount of energy drinks can save her at this point. “we don’t have the password—”

“—and that, dummy,” she rolls her eyes, making you scowl at the name, “is why we click forgot my password and see the last four digits of the phone number that registered the account. if it’s satoru’s number, we’ll know.”

okay—you take it back. shoko is a genius and a full-blown brilliant mastermind that you could never hope to come close to. you’re glad you chose her to help—you’re even more glad she agreed because you would not have thought of that. this is fantastic. a fool-proof plan. 

you grin wide, eyes lighting up as you gasp, “shoko! you’re so smart, that’s a great idea!”

“i know,” she grumbles, “took you long enough to notice.”

ignoring her, you quickly pull out your phone and try to log onto the account, typing user273582838 into the username box and clicking forgot my password. shoko is hovering over your shoulder, and your breath is held as you wait for the page to load and the number to pop up. within just a few seconds, the first few digits are censored with asterisks, but the last four show, and—

yeah. it’s satoru’s fucking number. just as you suspected—you and shoko scoff together at the same time, rolling your eyes. 

“well,” you look at her, lips pursed in irritation—of course, satoru refuses to give you space and leave you alone after your break up (which was his fault, might you add), “what now?”

“send the verification code to his number,” she presses, “it’ll definitely spook him when he sees.”

she’s so good at what she does, you think in awe, staring at her with heart-eyes. nodding quickly, you press send code. 

hopefully, that’ll give satoru the heart attack you want it to.

———

satoru stares at his screen in abject horror—who could be trying to log into his burner account? the only person who should possibly stumble across it is you, but surely you’re not closely inspecting your story viewers, are you? so then, who could be trying to log onto the instagram account of @user273582838?

“suguru,” he says in a trance, “are you trying to log onto the burner?”

“are you bringing that shit up again?” suguru grumbles, controller in hand as he pays attention to the screen, “i told you that was a stupid idea. a pathetic one too—”

“well, i didn’t want to keep waiting for you to send screenshots to see the stories—”

“you’re a fucking loser, do you know that? pathetic,” suguru reiterates. “move on.”

“no,” satoru hisses in disbelief, “why would i do that? now, was that you or not? you’re the only other person who knows the user.”

“as if i care to log onto your loser burner account,” suguru snorts, shaking his head in amusement. he beats satoru’s high score, turning to give him a sly grin as he adds, “i wasn’t removed, so i can view the stories all i want.”

“you’re a jerk, you know that?” satoru grunts, crossing his arms and pouting, “i’m having the worst heartbreak of my life, and you—”

“who’s fault is it that you’re dumped?”

satoru deflates. 

okay, so he supposedly hasn’t been the best boyfriend. it’s not that satoru isn’t helplessly committed to you—he’s so sickeningly obsessed with you, it’s actually a bit unhealthy. suguru says so, at least. but satoru is…well, satoru, and he doesn’t always seem to take things as seriously as most people would hope. 

evidently, that includes your relationship—though, he does insist on disagreeing on that. according to you, he doesn’t take you on dates often enough, and sometimes he flirts back with random strangers. that’s not true—he’s simply a bit of a tease and enjoys it when you’re jealous, but he doesn’t flirt back. that’s outrageous. you’ve even claimed he’s mean about it and makes a joke out of it all—satoru would never be mean on purpose; he only teases because the banter is always endearing. 

but, unfortunately, you don’t seem to see it the way he does, and now he’s woefully single and cold and alone in bed. no cuddles, no goodnight kisses, and no head scratches. 

life is so cruel sometimes. 

“suguru,” he says in distress, “i’m serious. someone’s trying to hack my burner—who could it be?”

“hmm, i don’t know…maybe the one and only person who would notice the account in the first place?”

“but why try and log in if the password is unknown?”

suguru looks at satoru like he’s stupid—apparently, he is because he’s not putting two and two together. 

“maybe because sending a verification code shows the last four digits of the registered phone number? you’ve probably been caught, you idiot.”

satoru pales at that—he didn’t think about that. it slipped his mind completely. fuck, he should’ve used a burner email instead. he stares down at his phone numbly—yeah, he thinks, he’s screwed. 

———

after two days of continuous log in attempts into satoru’s burner account—it’s only just to spook him extra—you finally decide to confront him. 

we need to talk. is all you send him. 

the three bubbles appear on his end multiple times before disappearing—you and shoko get a good cackle out of that and laugh at him for a bit before he finally answers. 

miss me already? knew it ;)

wow. what a dickhead. 

so, because you can be equally as much of a prick, you send him a screenshot of his phone number on the log in page followed by a message that says: no. it’s so you can explain this. 

the three dots show up again for a few minutes before he finally responds with: okay. you caught me. when do you wanna meet?

well, that was easy. satoru is the type to not go down without a fight no matter how cornered he is—he’s stubborn and annoying like that. you turn to shoko for help.

“meet him now,” shoko crosses her arms, “don’t give him time to come up with some ridiculous excuse.”

“what excuse could he possibly come up with?” you snort, “that he was possessed and the evil spirit in his mind made him stalk his ex like a loser?”

“true,” she concedes, taking a sip from her energy drink—seriously, how many of these does this girl drink in a day? “i just want to know what happens,” she shrugs, “so do it now.”

of course, as on brand as ever, shoko is merely in it for the drama. you roll your eyes before sighing and nodding. 

“okay,” you huff. 

meet me at my place. now.

on my way, he sends back almost instantly. 

“he’s probably just excited to see you,” shoko snorts, “like the loser he is.”

“you’re probably right,” you purse your lips in exasperation. in all your time knowing him, you’ve definitely realized that satoru is definitely…well, a case. 

———

“hey,” shoko whispers to suguru through the phone, walking out your door so you can prepare to confront satoru. “did you know satoru’s been stalking—”

“—on a burner account? yeah, i know.”

okay, she frowns to herself, that was no fun at all. suguru is already aware of the drama. but that’s no matter—surely, he can’t possibly already know that satoru has been invited over to be scolded. 

“yeah, well,” she says smugly, “did you know he’s actually on his way over to—”

“—get yelled at? yeah, i’m aware. he called me panicked. what a fucking loser.”

“okay, well since you’re up to speed,” shoko grumbles bitterly, rolling her eyes. she was supposed to be the knight in shining armor with the juicy updates—but evidently, satoru is pathetic enough to already cry to suguru about his dilemma. “wanna meet up and get sushi nearby? i bet they’ll get back together in twenty minutes.”

“i bet ten. loser pays for the food?”

“you’ve got yourself a deal.”

———

satoru sits on your couch in shame, bouncing his leg nervously as you sit on the opposite end with your arms crossed and brow raised. 

it’s quiet. he doesn’t have the guts to say anything, waiting for you to break the silence. maybe you’re not that mad.

“so,” you start, “it’s nice to finally meet you, user273582838.”

he rubs his neck awkwardly, chuckling through his nerves as he mumbles, “oh, hey there! it’s a small world, huh?”

“satoru.”

yeah, never mind. you seem pretty mad. 

“okay, look,” he begins, “you can’t blame me. you dumped me, your sweet, loving, and unsuspecting boyfriend out of nowhere! i was heartbroken and shattered—and then you didn’t even give me a chance to work it out! i was not in the right headspace to make wise decisions so…so this is basically not my fault.”

that doesn’t seem to help his case—in fact, it only makes it worse. 

“so it’s my fault?”

“wha—no!” he says quickly, “no, definitely not.”

you sigh, rubbing your forehead in defeat as you mumble, “satoru, we are broken up for a reason. you can’t overstep and—”

“it’s a pretty stupid reason,” he grumbles under his breath, crossing his arms and frowning. you glare at him from the side as you scoff in disbelief. 

“of course,” you chuckle dryly, “of course you would say that. nothing is ever serious enough to you—”

“it’s pretty fucking serious to me,” he spits, shooting you a look that tells you he’s just as shocked as you, “that’s obviously why i’m the one who’s still not moved on as easily as you. how seriously did you really take it?”

“that’s not fair,” you grit, “you made it abundantly clear you didn’t care enough, so why should i—”

“i fucking cared a shit ton,” he says incredulously, “that’s bullshit, and you know it—”

“don’t curse at me, satoru—”

“well, don’t accuse me of not caring when i clearly—”

“oh, yeah cause you cared so much when you were laughing with that waitress as she hit on you,” you seethe, throwing a pillow from your couch at him. he can catch it easily—you know this for sure, but he lets it hit him out of what you’re sure is at least a little consideration to your feelings. 

“i wasn’t laughing because i enjoyed it,” he crinkles his brows as if you’ve said the most ridiculous thing ever, “it was just funny because she was trying so hard. and you looked all cute when you got mad.”

“what kind of boyfriend enjoys watching his girlfriend get mad—”

“the kind of boyfriend who thinks his girlfriend is adorable when she’s mad—”

“yeah, well your idea of a date is going to the mall with shoko and suguru. what kind of date is that—”

“okay, i was a bit clueless sometimes, but you could’ve said something instead of just dumping me like i was some random guy in your dm’s—”

“you need to grow the fuck up, satoru—”

“now look at who's cursing!”

it’s silent—both you and him have your arms crossed and lips curled into scowls as you both glare at each other. you’re stubbornly convinced satoru doesn’t care as much as you do, and he’s firmly committed to the idea that you’re twisting him into some douche who doesn’t give two shits. 

it’s quiet like that for a bit before he deflates and slumps against the couch, rubbing his face as he groans. 

“look,” he starts, “i’m sorry. i never meant to make it seem like i enjoy attention from other girls, and i didn’t realize you wanted more dates. i’d have done things differently if you told me how you felt.”

he sounds sincere. and he’s looking at you with those eyes of his—god, those stupid little eyes that are so wide and blue and deep and full of love. even after that whole argument, satoru is clearly as painfully in love as ever. 

you sigh before playing with a loose thread on your sweatpants. 

“i…guess i could’ve talked it out first. i probably shouldn’t have skipped straight to breaking up,” you mutter, not meeting his eyes. 

satoru stares glumly at you from the corner of his eyes before he adds bitterly, “you don’t seem to miss me. not even a little.”

“toru,” you pinch your nose, “of course i miss you. i was not gonna be mopey on instagram, though—”

“doesn’t seem like it,” he huffs. he’s a bit hurt—you can tell because he’s not meeting your eyes, and he’s not got that playful little upward curl of his lips. 

you’re a bit weak, you realize—but you suppose you always have been for satoru, because you’re shuffling to his end of the couch and poking his cheek gently. 

“i miss you tons, y’know,” you murmur—you smile a little at his pout before adding, “i want more dates this time around. and stop letting girls get away with being shameless flirts.”

he finally meets your eyes—it’s like a child on christmas, the way his face lights up and his lips curl into an excited grin.

“you mean i get to be your boyfriend again?”

it’s cute—the way he asks to be your boyfriend and not if you’ll be his girlfriend. maybe you’ve been a bit unfair, maybe satoru has always cared deeply in his dumb little clueless way of his own. 

“fine,” you pretend to roll your eyes. he looks hopelessly excited as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side, tucking you under his chin as he rests his cheek on your head. 

“you should really talk to me more,” he murmurs, “i’m…things fly over my head sometimes. i’m sorry.”

“i’m sorry too,” you admit, “i’ll talk to you—but you better listen to me if i do. don’t turn it into jokes.”

“i never turn things into jokes,” he grumbles petulantly, huffing to the side as you shoot him an unimpressed raise of your brow. “does this mean i can follow you again?”

“yes,” you snort.

“and you’ll follow back, right?”

“yes, satoru,” you sigh, shaking your head in amusement. he’s already back to being a handful—but you can admit you might have missed it just a bit. “but for the love of god, please delete that burner.”

“fine,” he pouts, tugging you closer. 

you giggle, he grins, and then you’re kissing—and everything feels as it should be. 

———

“they’re back together,” shoko says in disbelief, staring at your text. suguru groans, pausing mid bite as he rubs over his forehead in defeat. 

of course, you and satoru just have to make up in exactly fifteen minutes. not ten. not twenty. exactly fifteen. 

how considerate of you both. 

“are you kidding?” suguru grumbles, “so neither of us win.”

“guess not,” she says sourly, rolling her eyes. 

woefully, they both agree to split the check. 

suguru and shoko are so me and my friend every time our other friend argues with her boyfriend we deadass be making bets over when they make up and loser has to pay for boba LMAO

[wordsinhaled]

thinking about payneland from the perspective of a pining charles having fallen first the night they met in the attic is wild because like

he meets this boy who is incredibly soft and kind to him, comforts him, protects him from being scared as he’s dying

and everything’s a bit hazy anyway and you know, why not, why not, why not. so charles is all, “i think i’d miss kissing. do you miss kissing? 👀”

genius really. except edwin is like, no

so charles is like ok, never mind, no worries, fine. just misjudged it a bit, didn’t i. not to worry. still, i really like spending time with you, let’s stay together forever, yeah?

he dedicates himself to being the best friend edwin could possibly ask for. edwin doesn’t seem interested in anyone in any way, really. maybe edwin’s just like, above all of those things. or doesn’t care for them. that happens! charles gets it! anyway edwin’s only the best person anyone could even imagine spending an afterlife with, so it doesn’t much matter

and for thirty years it really doesn’t matter, except in tiny moments when charles maybe lets a little too much adoration bleed into the looks he gives edwin, which is fine because edwin is giving him the same type of looks back and it doesn’t have to be anything, it’s just how they are. and if he sometimes has to shake himself to keep from staring at edwin’s bare forearms when they’re relaxing in the office, well. that’s not for edwin to worry about. it doesn’t matter what kind of love it is, charles feels them all for edwin and he knows edwin loves him too

but then they go to port fucking townsend

and suddenly it’s very clear edwin is capable of those types of feelings. of being flustered and lost in daydreams and shy around someone the way you are when you’re interested. edwin is doing all of those things - and it’s not directed at charles. it’s directed at monty. at the cat king

not that he should have presumed. after all edwin can and should go on and like anyone he wants. it’s his right and edwin certainly deserves his chance at happiness, after everything he’s been through. but there had been this tiny, tiny part of charles that had always thought “if edwin ever did have those types of feelings, they would be for me”

and all of a sudden it’s like. all of charles’ pining could actually come to fruition, except it won’t because edwin has somehow chosen monty and his astrology books. because some whiskery tosser has gotten his claws into edwin and much as charles postures he won’t dare actually pry them out because he doesn’t want to interfere in edwin’s fulfillment

charles is right here, has been right here for three decades - being content for the most part, except in fleeting moments when it got to him. and it would be fine if edwin simply chose someone else - natural even - but the part scrambling charles’ brain is that it feels like edwin hasn’t even considered him. never mind that charles has got an entire elaborate plan for how he’d court edwin if edwin ever gave a singular sign that he welcomed it. but instead edwin has chosen this time to wake up to his feelings and entirely overlook charles as a romantic prospect

charles is not going to be a miserable arse about it. he’s going to be supportive. he’s going to be nice to bloody monty because monty has apparently unearthed feelings in edwin. feelings edwin deserves to have. and if he’s honest, he has to give the lad some credit for managing to find a side of edwin charles has yearned quietly for for three decades in a matter of weeks - just by being forward with edwin in a way charles wouldn’t dream of trying

anyway imagine charles’ utter confusion and disbelief when edwin is all, “actually it is not monty i am in love with at all, but you, charles”

and charles is just like, “but i thought you and him were…? you said… i mean—you don’t even notice me that way!”

“i must assure you i do.”

and then he gets to have a kiss that he has waited for and hardly let himself want properly for thirty years

like……. PINING CHARLES, MY FRIENDS

[strawbeerossi]

You Think, Genius?

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Being friends with Spencer Reid is an adventure within itself. Movie nights are no exception.

Content/Warnings: Friends type humor, tension, mention of food/food fight, best friends to lovers trope, heavy kissing, very sweet smut (wild because I hardly write that, I feel like lmao).

Word Count: 2.7k

Anon Request: spencer reid x sarcastic funny reader? not mean but like kinda like Chandler from friends humour? with earlish seasons reid (season 3/4)ish cute smut. ADDING TO THE SARCASTIC!READER SHE AND SPENCE HAVE A BESTFRIENDS TO LOVERS ARC 🫶🫶

Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request

RIP Matthew Perry, thank you for playing the king of sarcasm and being my inspiration for this. 🩷

“Serial killers and childhood neglect have actually been linked together for years. Some of the most notorious serial killers were abused in some shape or fashion at home. Which makes sense whenever you take into account how easy it is to psychologically break a person and cause them to shut down, children being more receptive than most adults.” Spencer rambled on about some study he had been reading about.

Everyone was mostly tuned out besides you, your left hand holding the travel size cereal box up in clear view, your eyes wide. “That explains why I can’t stop eating this cereal! My mom made my life a living hell and now, all I think about is cereal. Oh god.” You said in a sarcastic tone, causing Derek to chuckle from his desk.

“She’s a cereal killer.” He joked while you both were giggling, making Spencer look between you and Derek, a confused expression on his face.

“She’s not a serial killer. I don’t think she’d be working here if she was one.”

The laughter continued on at your coworker’s obliviousness. “No, Spence,” JJ shook her head as she approached your chair, gently taking the little box before holding it up. “The joke is that she’s eating cereal. Cereal killer.” The blonde explained as you were turning back to Spencer.

“Oh, it’s no joke. I’ve got six bodies in my apartment right now. Just waiting to get home to do away with them.” You continued on, a little snort leaving your lips as you were getting your cereal back.

As you were pushing a handful in your mouth, you watched as Spencer looked at you with his head tilted to the side. “You haven’t killed anyone. I know that for a fact. You’re too nice.” He said while he was tapping his pen against his desk, JJ let out a huff and waved him off before she was walking away from your desk to get to her office.

“Isn’t there such a thing as killing people with kindness? That is my big move. I will be nice to them and boom,” You punched the palm of your hand to appear menacing. “I go in for the kill.”

Spencer was shaking his head with a soft giggle at the mere idea of it, your sarcasm slowly seeping through the cracks in an obvious way where he could see it.

“Right. How foolish of me to not understand it.” He joked softly while looking back down to the page he’d been doodling on. Your humor was new to Spencer, something he wasn’t really used to. You were a very sarcastic person, hardly ever having a conversation without injecting the encounter with your wit and sarcasm. He was still pretty clueless with it, however he felt he was getting better. Especially now that you had him saying his own sarcastic phrases at random times. It was weird for the rest of the team seeing the way you’d slowly brought Spencer out of that little bubble he was used to.

He was always the one who didn’t understand jokes or take sarcasm, appearing confused a good chunk of his career from the jokes and lighthearted banter. Being friends with you was a good way to learn how to understand though, which was why he was so lucky that you were his best friend.

“I was thinking of watching a movie. Do you wanna join me?” You asked, packing up your things as you looked over at Spencer as he raised an eyebrow.

“Tonight?” He asked, making you shake your head.

“No. Next week.” You answered with a deadpan expression while he crinkled his nose.

“You’re.. Being sarcastic..” He began while you rolled your eyes fondly with a smile.

“You think, genius? Come on, are you gonna come over or not?” You asked while putting your bag over your shoulder.

“I don’t see why not. Can we watch that new show that’s airing tonight?” He asked curiously, already following you out of the bullpen. He knew you’d give him a ride rather than sending him to go on the metro and meet you there later.

“Sure. I’ve been interested in it anyway. The new sci-fi one, right?” You asked as you made it to the parking garage with him as you were both in search of your car.

“Yes! It actually looks very interesting because from what I’ve read, they don’t make up their own rules as they go. They are using actual scientific data and evidence.” He gushed while you were clapping your hands together.

“Like learning in school! Oh how I loved school!” You were laughing as he had taken notice of the sarcasm and nudged your arm.

“Seriously. It’s going to be great! You may not think it now but you’ll enjoy it while learning about the real world when it comes to tech and space exploration.”

“We’ll have to see about that Dr. Reid.”

The ride back to your apartment was peaceful, the sounds of some radio station filling the quiet atmosphere of the car as you passed by numerous street signs. The comfortable silence was something you liked, never needing to strike up a conversation to enjoy Spencer’s company. Even if he was just reading while you were on your phone.

Back at your apartment, you’d just gotten the channel you needed pulled up, having about ten minutes until the show was supposed to air. Spencer made sure to tape it back at his own apartment, wanting to go back and watch alone to fully appreciate the show for more than its entertainment quality.

“Do you want me to run to the kitchen and get snacks?”

“You don’t have to run, Reid. You can walk.”

“Ha ha. So funny. Snacks or not?”

You were waving him off with a little laugh, offering a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Please go get some snacks. I think I have a big bag of that buttered popcorn you’re obsessed with.”

Spencer practically skipped to the kitchen upon hearing the news, retrieving one of your mixing bowls from one of your cupboards. After filling it up generously with the snack of choice, he was stopped by the fridge to grab two water bottles. With the two cold beverages under his arm, he was hurrying to the living room.

“I think we are all set.” He beamed with pride while placing the bowl on the table.

“Perfect. You’re right on time. It should start after these commercials.” You informed him while leaning forward to get a handful of popcorn from the bowl. While pushing a piece of popcorn into your mouth, you were only raising an eyebrow when you felt a pair of eyes on you. “What?” You asked, head turning to face Spencer as he quickly put his hands up in self defense.

“Nothing! I just wanted to see if it was good, that's all.”

“Right. I hate to tell you this, it tastes like buttered garbage. I don’t think you should subject yourself to eating it.” You joked, picking up a piece before flicking it in his direction, his eyes widening as he felt the snack hit his cheek.

“That could’ve taken out my eye!”

“Too bad it didn’t. We could get you an eyepatch.”

That was when Spencer took it a step further, getting a small handful of popcorn before throwing it in your direction. He was too busy laughing at your expression that mirrored his shock from earlier, pieces of popcorn in your hair and some on the couch.

“Is it a war that you want?”

“Me? You started it! Call it returned fire.”

That kickstarted a popcorn fight that didn’t seem to let up. Spencer was reaching into the now empty bowl before letting his eyes widen. He had no more ammo yet you had two handfuls. He was done for.

“You can apologize and we can end this.” You warned, your body now propped up on your knees as you had eventually turned to face him on the couch. “Just one ‘I’m sorry’ can end this bloodshed.”

“Never.”

“Suit yourself, Reid.” You were winding back one hand whenever Spencer was moving quickly to grip your wrist. There was some screaming, some laughing, and eventually you were being wrestled down onto the couch.

“Drop it!” Spencer laughed, both of your wrists being pinned down. “You do that and this will be all over.”

“No way.” You laughed, panting as you were being pinned down, some of Spencer’s long hair tickling the skin of your cheeks. You had both been in that position for a few more minutes before things calmed down, leaving you and the man above you to stare at one another and wait to reach a stalemate.

There was a growing tension, your faces only inches apart as he had you trapped between his body and the couch. Those beautiful eyes were looking down at you, almost as if Spencer was using the close proximity to take in every feature on your face. It was enough to make your face flush, cheeks hot from his gaze fixed on you and only you. The sound of the opening credits for the show you were supposed to be watching was playing in the background yet you could only look at each other.

There wasn’t a beat missed as he leaned down, lips against yours in a soft, yet cautious kiss. He felt like he had to play it safe, although the way you were feverishly returning the kiss told him all that he needed to know.

There was a fiery passion as your lips slotted together, almost as if they were made for one another. Your hands were moving to tangle in his hair, legs now wrapped around his waist as you both gave in to your urges that were always bubbling under the surface for however long you’d known the loveable genius.

It felt right, in a way. The way your were wrapped in one another’s embrace while having a moment of passion that you never expected to happen. However you had to admit, this was better than you ever thought.

Spencer was pulling out of the kiss, face flushed as he stared down at you with a shy smile. “It felt right. I’m sorry.” He whispered, only being pleased with the way you responded by pulling him down to connect your lips again, wanting to savor another moment as if he were going to disappear in thin air if you let him get too far.

The kiss had escalated soon enough, both of your clothes in a pile on the floor as you were tangled up on the couch, nothing but underwear separating you from each other. “Are you sure that you want this?” Spencer soon asked, his forehead against yours. Your friendship was always special to him, so naturally, he was worried about preserving those positive memories and the relationship as a whole.

“Definitely sure. I’ve thought about this for years.” For once, you were genuine. There was no hint of sarcasm dripping from your tone. That’s how he knew this was serious. “I’ve always loved you. I know you know that because I tell you all the time but it’s.. It's different than loving your best friend.”

Your confession had Spencer’s cheeks bright red, head nodding slowly to show he was paying attention. “Y-yeah. I love you more than a friend too.” He said slowly while he was bringing his hands down your hips, his fingertips tracing over your hot skin as he was hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties.

Your hips lifted to assist him tugging your underwear down, your own cheeks hot from being exposed in one of your most intimate areas. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had sex before and you had confidence when you did but this seemed different.

“I need.. Hold on.” Spencer began while pushing himself up a bit, your watching with a raised eyebrow as you propped yourself up on your elbows. He went for his slacks, getting his wallet.

“Are you gonna pay me for this?”

“What?! No! I-I just..” He began, shuffling through the wallet before he was pulling a condom from one of the wallet folds.

“You have a condom? You were planning for this?”

“No! I have.. I asked Derek for one. Obviously not for tonight but I had to be prepared!” He said quickly while tossing his wallet on the table.

You didn’t tease him any farther, instead your eyes gazing over his body as he was shimmying out of his boxers while standing. Just kissing you had his cock semi-hard, his hand wrapping around his shaft to give a few pumps in order to complete the process although it wasn’t too hard with the anticipation of what was to come tonight.

After sliding on the contraception, he was heading over to get settled between your legs. His eyes were glancing over your glistening pussy, your arousal shining in the dim light of the living room. “Wow.” He whispered, hand moving between your thighs as his thumb pressed against your throbbing clit. The pressure alone was enough to make your mouth go slack.

“Fuck.” You breathed while feeling the pad of his thumb start to rub your clit, your arousal coating it with each swipe. He was taking his time with teasing you, at least.

When he was finished with massaging the bundle of nerves and he couldn’t hold back any more, he was grabbing his cock before lining his tip along with your entrance, thick tip breaching your slick cunt as he was slowly pushing into you when you were both ready enough.

There was a pleasurable burn as he was stretching out your inner walls, your hands tightly gripping onto his shoulders as you pulled his body down onto yours just to feel his skin against yours. It was oddly more intimate than you could’ve expected, even with him staying perfectly still with his cock nestled deep inside of you.

There was a soft gasp leaving your lips when he gave a slow thrust, just testing the waters for now as he didn’t wanna go too crazy before you were ready. He didn’t plan on going super hard anyway, that wasn’t who he was. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Keep going.” You urged.

Once you proved comfortable enough due to your persistence, Spencer’s thrusts began to pick up a steady pace and rhythm. Your moans were enough encouragement for him to feel confident enough in the act, not shying away from you as much as anyone would’ve expected.

They rhythmic sound of his skin slapping against yours coupled with your gasps, shaky breaths and moans were filling the living room, the long forgotten show still filling the background noise. Spencer had since embraced you, one arm wrapped under your frame as the other kept himself pushed up over you. He just wanted to feel you close, to hold you as he made love to you.

It was beautiful to him, the way you were holding him and keeping him close in return. It was like you were the only people in the world, no responsibilities other than being close to one another. The warmth of your flushed skin against his was all he needed to be happy.

It was a dream, essentially. A dream so vibrant that Spencer didn’t want it to end, even if he knew that realistically he couldn’t be in a dreamland forever.

As he was torn from his thoughts at the feeling of your hands on his cheeks, he was offering you a smile as you were locking eyes with one another. “I love you.” He said softly, repeating what you’d both confessed earlier while leaning down to press his lips against yours.

It was after the fact whenever you were finally speaking again, body sitting up from the spot you were in on the couch as Spencer had retreated to the kitchen to dispose of the used condom. “Do you wanna come take a shower with me? No funny business.” You put your hands up in defense.

“No. It’s too personal for me to see you naked.” For the first time, Spencer was the one to be sarcastic with you, making you both burst into laughter.

“I’ve taught you well. Come on.”

[soobnny]

classmate au | sim jake

❝ i’m sorry we only got 26/30 on this worksheet ❞

heeseung | jay | JAKE | sunghoon | sunoo | jungwon | ni-ki

jake…

oh jake.

student athlete and math genius jake

you’re in the same class but he feels so far because he hangs out with his rly pretty friends

u can only look from afar

he’s always a tiny bit late to class

always drawing attention to his pretty boy face 😞

at 7:30, the bell rings and classes start

at 7:31, jake walks into class late

but the teachers always give him a pass bc how could they not when he smiles at them like that and apologizes like that

even ur teachers are down bad

he probably becomes your class representative for that one strict teacher’s class bc they always have a soft spot for jake

u want the deadline of the homework extended? ask jake to message them

he sits in the middle seats

not too prim and punctual to be at the front

but still likes school enough not to completely goof around at the back

sometimes your math teacher lets you do quizzes and worksheets by pair

(it’s the only way some of you can get a passing grade)

by statistics and some type of sampling, you end up getting partnered up with jake

“hi, good morning,” he’d greet with his infamous smile

now you get why all the teachers swoon for him

he’s so cute. this is going to be a problem

this is going to be a BIG problem

you were already bad at math, and now there’s a big pretty distraction sitting next to you

though, tbh, you were also relieved when you heard your name with his bc he’s ltrly known as a math genius

he’s one of the students that teachers excuse for their math contests

and wait 😭 did he just say something to u? did he ask about a formula bc u honestly have no clue

“(name)?” he’d shake your shoulder gently and it’s enough to bring you back on earth

“sorry, did you ask something?”

“oh, i’m done … if u wanted to compare answers? or if u trust me enough?”

you trust him enough

he’s ltrly THE carry

jake will speedrun differential calculus like he’s writing the alphabet

uh oh.

why does he look so HOT with his pencil and the way he writes numbers

you��re going insane

you should never be paired with jake ever again

but by some twist of fate, you always end up as jake’s partner in numerous activities

lab work and experiments and communication reports?

“jake and (name),” the teacher would announce

ofc… typical of friends, they HAVE to push you around as you walk to your seat beside jake’s

while you’re of great help with anything else, you’re starting to feel bad about his literal carry in math tho

“are you sure it’s ok? i’m just rly horrible i’m sorry,” you’d apologize

he would just laugh and dismiss your concerns

“nooo, it’s okay. i’m fine! i can tell you didn’t get enough sleep last night”

(you spent the night binging a new show that came out)

your stomach doesn’t feel so good after that one.

who gave him the right to NOTICE things now???

when your teacher returns your paired worksheets, he has the GALL to apologize

a big fat 29/30 will be written on top and he’d say “oh i’m sorry we had one mistake 😕” like BOY SHUT UP !!!!

after your partner shenanigans, you’d start talking more in the classroom

he’d give u a fist bump if u bumped into each other in the hallways while walking with ur respective friend groups

sometimes even shout your name to get your attention only to wave at you

“why are you smiling like that?,” sunghoon would ask accusingly

and you know what? jake has no shame

“(name). she’s pretty cute, no?”

BYE absolutely no shame

so now, when he speedruns an activity, you’ll find him hovering around you until he starts to make conversation

if the teacher leaves early ?? suddenly he’s transported to the seat next to yours and flirting

being friends with jake is chaotic…. bc that would automatically mean being friends with HIS loud ass friends

pretty friends have upgraded to pretty LOUD friends

they’re so annoying too

“jake and (name), can you buy us water?”, heeseung would ask

WHY R U BUYING WATER FOR HEESEUNG

but jake’s already taking your hand and dragging you away bc he will take every opportunity to hang out with you alone

BTW computer science god idk i just got the vibes

during valentines that year, he codes you a little website please end me

mind you, you aren’t even together yet

he just codes for you as a friend 😂😂😂 as if anyone’s believing that

oh and he also avails those anonymous services so you’ll just be receiving flowers from the student council throughout the day

“oooooh, who are those from,” he would be smiling like it’d be so painfully obvious it’s from him

“do you like them?” NOOOOOOO he just wants to know ok!!! tell him you love them please

OK back to normal no more valentines

when class dismisses, you’d find him lounging around the basketball court with heeseung

sweaty….. wet hair…. oh dear

jake is a sight to see when he’s playing basketball

u usually sit at the bleachers anyway bc ur friends enjoyed watching

he is SOOOOO annoying esp now that you’ve grown closer over the months

he’d make stupid plays and draw attention to you 100%

“if i get this shot in, will you go on a date with me?”

cue the screams and the teasing and the fake vomiting as you’re pushed around

OFC he makes the shot

he’s sim jake, math genius AND student athlete

“so, tomorrow after class?”

“huh?? i thought you were joking??”

“what? no! have i not been obvious? i ltrly flirt with you evry chance i get??”

“well… idk! maybe you do that with everyone!”

“only you”

OK WISH I WERE YOU THEN 😒😒😒😒😒

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[darlingdaisyfarm]

takin’ what’s not yours (ford x reader x stan)

chapter 1

tags: pre portal, hurt/comfort, angst, Stan & Ford needs a hug, reader too, emotional manipulation, everyone needs therapy but that’s not happening, mystery trio dynamics if you squint, billford?? hmmm

author note: guys i swear this was supposed to be a shameless porn threesome fic, but then Ford and Stan showed up with a whole suitcase of unresolved issues im so sorry

“You’re gonna change the world, Ford.”

“Only if you’re there to see it.”

***

Backsmore University. What a fucking place.

It wasn’t just the old brick buildings or the ivy creeping up the sides. Not really. It was the people. The crazy mix of the smartest, weirdest people you could imagine. You were one of them, no doubt. An absolute nerd with a lab coat on 90% of the time, a mess of papers and equations in your backpack and a head full of ideas and knowledge. But unlike Ford, you weren’t shy about showing it. You thrived in it, honestly. Lectures? Boring as hell, but the energy in the halls? The potential of every single person you met? Yeah, you were there for it.

One of these was Ford Filbrick Pines.

The ultimate BMU enigma, the textbook definition of nerdy. For some reason, his persona always made you think he was hiding some secret genius-level insanity behind his weirdly serious face. 

You’d laugh about it with your friends, the way he avoided talking to anyone. Classic “genius who’s too good for people” type.

He was everywhere, and yet, nowhere at all. Seriously, you could walk through the student lounge, see him hunched over a pile of research papers in the corner and just know you were witnessing something profound. He didn’t get what you were about at first.

You were funny, obnoxious even, always the first to crack a joke or make a ridiculous observation in class. Meanwhile Ford would just stare at you with those big eyes like he was trying to figure out if you were some kind of social experiment.

But then you started talking, typical nerds topics. About quantum physics, mathematics, about the mysteries of the universe, about everything. He’d scoff at how crazy your ideas were but then, just a second later, he'd be scribbling down some insane theory of his own that he wouldn’t even tell anyone else about. And you’d get it. You both would sit in the library, trading theories and arguing about the tiniest details of space-time.

You were the loud one, in Ford’s opinion, the one who could hold a conversation about quantum theory and drag Ford to a campus party all in the same breath. He’d grumble the whole way, saying it was a waste of time, rolling his eyes at your insistence that he needed a little break. He’d follow you through those sticky, badly lit student lounges, watching you laugh with people he’d probably never even look at twice.

These late nights when you’d drag him out to stargaze, pointing out constellations, half-naming stars you didn’t know, laughing when he’d shake his head, muttering about inaccurate astronomy. But he always went along with it, always ended up laying beside you on the grass, looking up at a sky he could never quite make sense of but was desperate to understand.

The graduation day. You clearly remember that one.

The sun was so bright you could barely keep your eyes open and everything felt like a dream. You had your cap crooked on your head (you were probably running late, as usual), your tassel swinging as you walked across the field, your friends beside you, shouting and celebrating like you were all in the fucking “after party of the year.” But then you turned and your eyes saw Ford, who was clutching that damn diploma like it was a golden ticket. He looked different somehow, like he’d finally unlocked a new version of himself. 

The Stanford Pines himself, recipient of Backsmore’s largest grant for his “eccentric” research, standing with his square academic cap, although it was comically slipping off his head. He looked out of place, like a scientist among a sea of partying students who could barely remember their names half the time.

So, you did what any good friend would do— you adjusted his cap for him, (plus you wanted an excuse to touch him), made some dumb joke about how he’d better not screw it up. He’d roll his eyes, but you knew he liked it. He needed it.

“Hey,” you grinned, “looking pretty fancy for someone who spends all their time talking to aliens or whatever.”

Ford smirked. “I’ve already got a date with a space-time continuum. But you can join if you want.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile didn’t leave.

***

Outside, the world has turned into a kind of cold, quiet hell. Snow falls in thick slow flakes, burying everything in a suffocating blanket of white. And Stan stands there, jacket pulled tight against his chest, staring up at the looming silhouette of his brother's house.

It's freezing, but Stan hardly feels the cold. Not really.

It’s quiet here, but it’s not peaceful. Silence feels heavy, like it’s watching him.

His thoughts are pulled back to a time that feels both recent and impossibly distant.

Ten years. Ten goddamn years. It’s been a decade since he's seen Ford’s face. Well, of course he doesn't expect Ford to look like something completely different, they’re twins after all. But at least now Stan knows what Ford would look like with a mullet.

Stanford was always the smart one, the golden kid, with big brains and hands that tinkered with mysteries beyond Stan’s understanding. And now. . . after all these years of silence, Ford finally decides he needs him. It’s a postcard, a single damn postcard, that drags Stan out of the muck and dumps him back here in this town, holding secrets and god knows what kind of twisted shit his brother’s got himself mixed up in.

After everything Ford did, after leaving, after barely even thinking to check in after all these years, Stan knows he shouldn't feel this way. But here he is. Waiting. Hoping. Hoping against hope, as if somehow, that tall figure would come striding down the snowy path, arms filled with books and that same serious look on his face. That same one he had as a kid when something big was on his mind. 

Stan shakes his head, letting out a breath that forms a small cloud in the icy air.

“Ten years, and you drag me here for what, Stanford?” he thinks.

Stan takes a deep breath, the cold seeps right down to his bones, but it’s not the winter’s chill that makes him shiver. His heart pounds as he stares at the weathered door in front of him, trying to shake off the surge of memories of the two of them, inseparable, back when they thought the world couldn’t touch them. But that was more than a lifetime ago.

He mutters to himself, “you haven’t seen your brother in over ten years. It’s okay. He’s family. . . He won’t bite.” or at least Stan hopes so and then he knocks, half-heartedly, already bracing himself.

The door swings open with a sudden jolt. Before Stan can even greet him, Ford’s voice booms through the biting air. "WHO IS IT?! Have you come to steal my eyes?!” his trembling hands grip a crossbow, pointed directly at Stan, and the first thing Stan notices are his brother’s eyes — wide and paranoid.

Stan looks at Ford, steps back a little, blinks, then blinks again. He tries to mask the pang of hurt as he lets out a shaky laugh, “Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome.”

Ford lowers the weapon slightly, narrowing his eyes suspiciously and then, as if finally recognizing the person standing before him, he blurts, “Stanley, did anyone follow you? Anyone at all?”

“Eh, hello to you too, pal.” Stan grumbles, but to his surprise, Ford grabs him by the clothes, yanking him roughly inside before he can even process it. "Ah!" he exclaims, stumbling forward, before the door slams shut behind them.

Ford, still skittish, shines a flashlight in Stan’s eyes, his fingers trembling as he holds it, blinding his brother. “What is this?!” Stan shoves the flashlight away.

Deep down, though, he tries to mask the pang that Ford’s mistrust strikes in him. What happened between you two? Mom would be so upset about their relationship. They used to share everything, trust each other without question, without even a word. Now here they are, stumbling through a reunion that feels like walking on broken glass.

"Sorry,” Stanford answers quickly, studying Stan’s face as if looking for lies hidden in his eyes. “I just had to make sure you weren’t. . . It’s nothing. Come in, come in.”

Stan follows him, the warmth he thought he’d feel upon seeing his brother slowly cooling into something he doesn’t want to admit that feels like disappointment. He watches Ford flit around the room, casting paranoid glances, clutching onto a battered old journal like it’s the only thing holding him together.

The shack is cluttered, papers scattered on the floor, strange devices cluttering the tables, books piled high. Wow, Stan thinks, the whole place screams my brother has been here alone too long.

It makes Stan's chest tighten.

“Uh, you gonna explain what’s going on here? you’re acting like mom after her tenth cup of coffee.” he is trying to defuse the atmosphere somehow, to make contact, but inside, his heart aches. He missed Ford; he missed him like hell. And to finally be here, standing right next to him, only to find him. . . like this. Seriously? It’s almost too much to bear.

Ford, ignoring the gentle jab, clutches the journal tighter. “Listen, there isn’t much time. I’ve made huge mistakes and I don’t know who I can trust anymore.” he doesn’t meet Stan’s eyes as he glances at a skeleton in the corner, twisting its head away from him.

Stan’s heart drops. This is bad, worse than he thought.

He steps forward, placing a hand on Ford’s shoulder, a touch he hopes can somehow bridge the miles and years between them. “Hey, easy there. Let’s talk this through, okay?”

But Ford pulls back, a strange, paranoid look in his eyes. His fingers trace the spine of the journal as he glances at Stan. “I have something to show you. Something you won’t believe.”

Stan's brow furrows, his curiosity piqued despite himself. What could it be? Some kind of super scientific bullshit that opens doors to parallel worlds? A time machine? A wormhole? Black hole made at home?

He looks at Ford, how the man hasn’t aged a day physically, but the exhaustion, the fear, the isolation, it all is painted on his brother’s face. It’s painful to see. It’s heartbreaking to think how Ford might have been living in this place, alone with nothing but his thoughts, trapped in his own world of mistakes and fears.

Stan manages a weak grin, masking his own fear for brothers sanity in his heart. "Look, I’ve been around the world, okay? Whatever it is, I’ll understand."

That twist in your chest, that awful, prickling feeling that something’s wrong.

You’re curled up at your kitchen table, sipping your tea with that kind of numbness you get when you’ve been overthinking too much. You told yourself to back off. He needed space. He needed time.

But when Stan’s eyes scan the giant, hulking portal machine in front of him, he can’t hide the bewilderment as he adds, “There’s nothing about this I understand.”

Ford’s hand wrapped tight protective around his journal. It’s the only one left, his last remaining key to understanding, to protecting everything he’s worked for. 

But now Stan stands across from him and his face clearly shows something what can be called betrayal.

Ford’s been distant. Secretive, even. The last time you two spoke, it was tense, full of anger and words you didn’t mean. It shouldn’t matter, you tell yourself, but the thought of him out there, alone, is like a weight pressing down on your chest.

Ford tries to explain as if Stan would understand. “It's a trans-universal gateway, a punched hole through a weak spot in our dimension. I created it to unlock the mysteries of the universe. But it could just as easily be harnessed for terrible destruction. That's why I shut it down and hid my journals, which explain how to operate it. There's only one journal left. . . and you are the only person I can trust to take it.” he steps forward, holding the journal out to Stan, eyes pleading. “I have something to ask of you: remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat?” Stan’s face shines with smile until he hears next shit his brother say. “Take this book, get on a boat, and sail as far away as ya can! To the edge of the Earth! Bury it where no one can find it!”

I should’ve just stayed, I shouldn’t have left.

Your fingers curl around the warm mug, but sadly the heat doing nothing to soothe the anxiety creeping up your throat.

You set it down on the counter, trying to shake off the feeling. It’s just the storm, it’s just you being overdramatic. It doesn’t mean anything.

But the knot in your stomach refuses to untangle.

Something’s wrong.

“That’s it? You finally show your face after ten fucking years and all you’ve got to say is ‘get away’?”

Ford's hand drops and disappointment flashes across his face. “Stanley, you don't understand what I'm up against! What I've been through!”

“Oh, yeah?” Stan can't contain his emotions. How dare he?! “You don’t understand what I’ve been through! Three different prisons, Stanford! I’ve chewed my way out of a goddamn car trunk! Meanwhile, where have you been? Living it up in your fancy house in the woods! Selfishly hoarding your college money, because you only care about yourself!”

With a sigh, you stand up, setting the mug down on the table as your dog, a sweet, eager little spaniel, looks up at you with wide, curious eyes.

Ford's temper snaps because he can't believe what the fuck his brother is talking about. “I’m selfish? I’m selfish, Stanley? You ruined my shot at a real life! At my dream school! And here I am, giving you a chance to do something meaningful and you still can’t get it through your head!”

You glance over at your dog, a scruffy, affectionate spaniel with big brown eyes who’s been staring at you from the corner of the room.

Stan raises his eyebrows. “Yeah? You want this fucking book gone?” he yanks a lighter from his pocket, the flame flaring up as he flicks it. “Fine. I’ll get rid of it right fucking now.” he holds the journal over the flame, daring Ford to make a move.

You can’t shake this feeling, this urge to go find Ford, even if it means dragging yourself out into the goddamn blizzard.

“I’ll be back soon, girl,” you murmur, pulling on your coat. You don’t know what you’re looking for, don’t even know what you’re hoping to find. But you have to see him. You have to know

Ford’s eyes widen, panic flashing across his face. “No!” he lunges for it, reaching out, but Stan yanks it back. “You don’t understand!” Ford shouts, desperation pouring through him.

But Stan takes a step back, holding the journal dangerously close to the flame. “You want me to take it? Well, then, I’ll decide what to do with it.”

“My research!” they jerk the book back and forth, playing a fucked up game of tug of war, their yells echoing through the lab as they struggle over it.

You can’t shake the feeling, it’s like something’s dragging you forward, pulling you toward him, toward the unknown.

It’s late and the woods are fucking silent, which is weird for Gravity Falls. You’ve been running for what feels like hours, your chest burning, your mind tangled in a mess of thoughts you can’t quite shake. Every goddamn thing with Ford lately has been a disaster, hasn’t it? One fight after another, with him shutting down, disappearing into his head like he’s always been known to do.

The last words you shared with him are still fresh in your mind, “this is it, okay?! I can’t do this anymore.” he didn’t even fight back, just. . . stared at you like you were the problem. Maybe you were the problem, you don’t know, but damn it, you cared. You couldn’t just pretend like everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t. That’s why you’re out here, because you’re not about to let him get swallowed up by whatever the hell is going on in that messed-up head of his.

And now, here you are, halfway to his place with nothing but your gut telling you that whatever was going down at Ford’s place was way worse than you thought.

When you enter, you hear the kind of noise— angry, violent, something breaking and you know Ford’s involved, you just know it. You don’t care if you two haven’t spoken in days, if things between you and him are a mess of unsaid things and frustrated silences. He’s been acting so off, and now, hearing the absolute mayhem erupting inside, you’re terrified.

The sounds are loud, shouting voices, furniture crashing, angry grunts. Your heart fucking stops as you push the door open so fast it slams against the wall. You’re not thinking, not caring that maybe you shouldn’t be here, but it’s too late to stop now.

At first, you think you've completely lost your mind, because you're seeing two Ford Pines. And then you think, either you're the one who's gone crazy, or Ford has, because he's literally fighting with himself.

But as you take a breath, both Fords turn to look at you, and that’s when it hits you: this isn’t just some bizarre mirror trick. There’s Ford and then there’s someone who looks a whole lot like him, but is definitely, absolutely not him.

“What the fuck is going on?” your voice rings out much louder than you meant, but you don’t care. Your heart is pounding way too hard and your feet are planted, legs shaking with adrenaline and worry. You’ve seen Ford in a mess of emotions, but never like this. Not this bad.

The second the door slams open, both of them freeze, but it’s the mulleted guy who speaks first. “So you got yourself a chick now, huh? Thought you were too busy playing goddamn Einstein to bother with things like that.” his angry eyes narrow at you, and you’re not sure if it’s anger or. . . jealousy? Frustration? You don’t have time to decode it.

This guy have absolutely the same features, same nose, same intense, serious brow, but his whole look is just rougher, like he’d been living a life Ford would never survive.

And your blood boils.

“No, fuck that,” you snap, glaring at mullet-man. “You don’t talk about me like that.” then you glance at Ford. “Ford, why the fuck didn’t you tell me about—”

but you get interrupted by Ford’s clone, Ford’s twin, whatever. “Name’s Stan. Stanley Pines. The brother of this genius. Bet he’s never even mentioned me, huh?”

Your stomach churns at the words. Fuck that, no way. This isn’t about you, this is about Ford.

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” now you are shivering not only from the winter cold, but also from the absolute chaos of what is happening. You turn to Ford, eyes desperate, desperate to know, to understand, to find answers. “What’s going on? Where have you been? I couldn’t get ahold of you. You just. . . left. And I—” you stop yourself, biting your lip. This isn’t the time to scream at him for all the unanswered questions, for all the shit that’s been left hanging. Not yet.

Ford doesn’t seem to get it. His eyes flick between you and Stan like he’s trying to piece it together, but nothing adds up. "I don’t— what are you doing here? We— we said goodbye," his voice is strained, like he’s trying to convince himself.

“No, Ford. You said goodbye! You fucking disappeared! I don’t even know why, and I— fuck, just explain yourself, okay?” you can’t keep the desperation out of your voice anymore.

Stan is watching with his arms crossed over his chest, and he still doesn't look too pleased, but it's not just anger. Although you don't have time to deal with his point of view. You need answers. You need Ford to talk.

Ford opens his mouth to say something, but then the anger, the frustration, all of it just snaps. "I didn’t want you involved in this. . .  anyone involved. This, this thing with the portal, you wouldn’t understand—"

You don’t even let him finish. “Stop. Just stop, yeah? You don’t get to just disappear like that, Ford. I don’t care about the journal or the goddamn portal anymore. I care about you. Why the hell are you so fucking determined to push everyone away?”

Ford tries to get himself together, though he looks like he’s been caught with every secret he’s ever buried. “This— this doesn’t concern you, alright? Just— just leave, go, this is between me and him.”

Stan scoffs. “Oh, yeah, classy, Sixer. Let’s bring her in just to shove her right back out, huh? Really hitting your all-time high here.”

“Shut up,” his brother snaps.

But Stan’s just as stubborn, glaring right back. “No, I don’t think I will. Not when you’ve dragged some poor girl into this whole shitshow. Real nice, by the way, real nice! Does she even know what you’ve been up to, huh? All the crap you’re into?”

“I said shut up, Stanley. I shouldn’t have called you— God, I regret calling you! You’re just here to make things worse, like always.”

The words land harder than you thought they would. It's not like you didn’t know Ford could be an asshole, but hearing him say that directly to his brother hits a nerve, like a punch to the gut. 

You see Stan’s face change, his mouth drops open, his eyes so wide, like he’s been slapped across the face. He looks like he’s been gutted. It takes his breath away, because he didn't expect to hear this ten years later, and it's obvious that Ford's words hit him too deeply.

However, your own heart drop to your stomach too. Fuck. You didn’t know what was worse — the fact that they were tearing into each other or the fact that Ford could say something like that to his own brother. It’s too much, even for you. You want to scream at Ford, demand that he stop, that this isn’t helping anyone, but you’re paralyzed.

But Stan’s hurt turns into something else and he spits back, “You think I wanted this, Ford?! You think I wanted to be the fuck-up brother?! You’re the one who dragged me into this whole goddamn mess now. You asked me to come! You! So don’t go acting all high and mighty like I’m the one screwing your life up right now!”

And then, in that moment, everything goes to hell.

Before you know it, they’re back at each other’s throats. Ford lunges forward, grabbing the journal, but Stan’s not letting go, the damn thing passed back and forth between them like it’s a live wire, all anger and resentment boiled down to this one book as each of them trying to get a hand on it. 

You rush forward, hands outstretched to push them apart, anything to stop this from going too far, but in the heat of it all, Ford jerks back, elbow flying and you feel it land in your ribs, knocking the wind right out of you and it really fucking hurts. The pain shocks you so hard you gasp.

Ford’s eyes snap to you instantly, widening in horror. “Oh my god— I’m s-so sorry! are you alri—“ he reaches toward you, himself can’t believe he just did that to you, but he barely gets a word out before Stan’s fist slams into his jaw.

This time, Stan hits so hard, putting all his resentment into the punch that Ford stumbles dangerously close to the portal, which is buzzing. You watch in absolute horror as his body goes too close, the fucking thing flickering and humming like a beast about to devour him whole and for a heart-stopping second, Ford looks like he’s going to fall right in.

You’re out of your mind in an instant as you scramble to your feet, adrenaline spiking, crazy fear in your eyes. Without thinking, you reach out, grabbing Ford’s arm, pulling him back, using every ounce of strength you have to pull him back. “Ford, no! Get back!”

Stan’s standing there, frozen for a second, scared himself by how far he had come. His chest rises and falls in heavy breaths and his face is fucking pale as he stares at his brother’s body half in portal, but the guilt is written all over Stan’s face. His bruised hand is still raised, like he wants to hit Ford again, but it’s shaking. Did he. . . did he just. . ? God, he didn’t mean—

“You!” you scream, still tugging Ford away from the edge, but the portal’s pulling like a magnet and you’re fighting with everything you have. “Help me, now!”

Snapped out of his daze, Stanley rushes over, grabbing Ford. You tug harder, your muscles screaming as Ford’s body gives a last push toward the rift, but finally, finally, together, you both heave him back, dragging him away from the portal and out of that damn pull. His feet hit solid ground and you both just collapse.

You’re gasping for breath, hands still fisted in Ford’s coat, both of you holding on like if you let go, he’ll slip right back toward that nightmare.

Ford’s breathing heavily, disoriented, his hands gripping your arms in fear. 

Stan’s still looking at Ford, his face torn up because he doesn’t know whether to say sorry, to yell or to just walk the fuck out to not ruin something else. There’s realisation in his eyes and, for the first time, Stanley is seeing what his anger’s capable of. That punch could’ve been the end of everything.

“Brother. . .” Stan’s voice trembles. “I didn’t mean to—”

You don’t let him finish. “No, you didn’t mean to. None of you meant to,” you snap, but it’s not anger in your tone, it’s damn fear, panic, it’s this deep fucking worry. You turn to Ford. “But this shit needs to stop, okay? Right now. Please.”

The silence between you, Ford and Stan stretches out as if it’s some aftermath of a bomb going off. Ford’s still on the floor, breathing hard and it’s not the near-death experience that’s fucking him up, but the bitter realisation of what could have really happened if that damn portal had taken him in.

“So that’s it, huh? After ten goddamn years, this is how you treat me? Almost shove me into a portal like it’s nothing?”

Stan opens his mouth, but Ford isn’t letting him get a word in, he’s too riled up now, all that anger and pride churning in him, boiling over. “Do you even understand what could’ve happened? What you almost did? You haven’t changed one bit, Stanley. I should’ve known better. Should’ve known you’d just fuck everything up, again. Just like you did back then.” Ford’s voice sounds colder than the winter outside. “Remember the science fair, Stan? You destroyed my experiment because you were too fucking selfish to think about anyone but yourself. I could’ve had everything. You took that from me, my chance at West Coast Tech, my chance at anything and then you have the nerve to make me the villain?”

It hits Stan harder than any punch ever could. Stan doesn’t even blink, his whole body stiff, shoulders slump.

His mouth opens like he wants to fight back, but there’s no fight left in him, the words are stuck in his throat. He doesn’t say shit, trying to process everything at once. But there’s nothing to process. Ford’s right.

“Yeah, I get it,” Stan mutters, holding back tears. “I’m a fucking failure. I know that, Sixer. Always have been. I’m sorry.”

But then he does the one thing you didn’t think he would. He turns around, slow, defeated, too fucking tired to argue and fight anymore.

And just like that, he starts walking away. But deep inside Stanley is crying like a child, expecting Ford to stop him. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t say a word, but he wishes Ford would care, at least once. 

You’re fucking shocked, feeling helpless rage and anger, heart pounding with confusion and disbelief. You thought. . . well, you don’t even know what you thought! That they’d hug it out? Have some big, tearful reunion? Not really! But this mess of accusations and bitterness and old scars is so fucked up. Completely and utterly fucked up.

Ford stands there, all silent, watching Stan’s back as he walks away, not moving an inch. The pride, the stubbornness, the wall he’s built around himself. Oh god, that guy is so fucking smart he doesn’t know how to feel anymore.

You look back at Ford, at his rigid stance, he won’t even move, won’t even try to call Stan back. You can’t believe it and something snaps in you, something fierce and hot because you’re done with all this bullshit.

“You’re not even gonna ask him to stay? Fuck, what is wrong with you both?”

Ford’s face tightens, but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t even flinch. And it drives you insane, watching him cling to that pride, that goddamn logic of his that’s somehow more important than his own damn family. No fucking way is this ending like this. Not after everything you’ve just seen, not with Ford standing there like a goddamn statue, too proud or too blind or too stupid to do anything but let his brother walk out.

You storm past Ford, ignoring his surprised look as you push past him, practically running after Stan. “wait!” you shout. But Stan doesn’t stop, doesn’t even glance over his shoulder.

“Stan!”

“What?” he snaps at you.

You step closer. “You’re not leaving,” you say, staring him down like it’s a challenge.

He lets out a dry, humourless laugh, shaking his head. “Trust me, sweetheart, it’s better if I do. I don’t belong here.” he jerks his thumb back in Ford’s direction. “Pretty clear I’m not welcome.”

“Bullshit,” you respond, what makes Stanley raise an eyebrow, looking a little surprised at your bluntness. “I don’t care if he’s too proud to say it, but you’re his brother— I mean, you think this is how family’s supposed to be? You think he doesn’t want you here?”

“Look, kid, you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Me ‘n’ Ford? We’re a lost cause. Always been. Ain’t no point in tryin' to fix it now.”

“Oh, come on! So you fuck up, he fucks up— you’re both disasters. That doesn’t mean you just give up. I don’t care if it’s been years or what the hell happened between you two. You don’t just fuckin’ quit on family. That’s not how this works.”

Stan’s mouth twitches and he looks like he’s gonna bite back with something snarky, but he doesn’t. He just lets out this tired sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. “I don’t wanna hurt him more than I already have. I always mess things up. I’ll just make it worse. So what’s the point?”

You take a deep breath, trying to rein in the frustration pounding through you. “The point is, you’re his brother! And if you don’t stay, if you don’t try to work this out, you’ll both regret it. You can’t just leave him to deal with this shit alone.” 

Stanley opens his mouth, ready to throw out another excuse, but you cut him off.

“Look, Stan,” you change the intonation to softer one, “I don’t know the whole story here. I don’t know what went down between you two and I’m sure as hell not saying it doesn’t hurt like hell. But this whole thing you guys are doing? Pushing each other away? It’s not gonna make anything better.“

“Fine, fine. But don’t expect me to be the hero, alright? I ain’t got no magic words to fix this shit.” Stan sighs and looks down like he’s too damn tired for this conversation.

When you and Stan make your way back inside, you see Ford still there with his back to you.

Stanley huffs out a laugh, trying to shake off the tension. “So, Sixer, when’d ya start collectin’ all this junk? don’t tell me you got a whole damn museum in here.”

Suddenly, Ford huffs a dry laugh that sounds a little bitter coming from someone like him. “Wouldn’t expect you to get it. Takes more than a few brain cells to appreciate real science.”

Stan’s smile falters, well, it was pretty rude, but he thinks he deserved it. You and Stan share a look, but before you can say anything, Stan just shrugs it off, letting out a forced chuckle, his voice trying to stay light. “Ha, yeah, same ol’ Ford. Ya always had a way with words, didn’t ya?”

There is only silence in response, but when you come a little closer, you finally take in the sight of Ford holding a goddamn crossbow.

Wait, what?

Your eyes go wide and the first thing that hits you is the cold sweat creeping up your spine.

Stan and you freeze. Confusion mixing with a little fear as you both look at Ford, What the hell is going on with him? Since when does Ford carry a crossbow around like it’s no big deal?

Stan raises an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood with a joke, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. “Hey, bro, you planning on hunting something tonight or just ready to, I dunno, take out some deer in the backyard?”

[thinemoonshine]

༄LECHE OF THE SIRENS.ೃ࿔*

corrupt!enhypen ot7 x siren!reader warning(s): those stated in the first chapter, jay is a two-faced ‘gentleman,’ he sleeps with (y/n), members are sexually frustrated, sunoo is growing more obsessed with (y/n) by the second, riki and jungwon make their appearance, (y/n) feeds to the nobles’ delusions to get what she wants, heeseung grovels type: mini series word count: 8.9k

(y/n)’s created a rift between them. she has sunoo wrapped around her finger and she who controls the puppeteer, controls the puppets—but she needs more. so, what better left to do than to subjugate the real genius behind the genius?

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 2

𝒥ongseong stirs in his bed before he sits up, disgruntled from having his sleep interrupted and grumbles as he walks to his doors. Swinging them open, he's prepared to give the intruder a good earful but finds himself frozen instead upon seeing a timid (y/n).

Clad only in her nightwear—a white satin nightdress that reaches mid-thigh with snowy lace trims, its collar lower than the typical and exposing her cleavage that makes his eyes pop and the fabric is thin…almost sheer that his gaze struggles to remain still.

His blatant ogle makes the corners of her lips curl but they fall instantly as she takes a step forward.

"If you don't mind, would you like to accompany me for a cup of tea? I know it's unconventional seeing how this is past bedtime however, I have trouble sleeping from what transpired earlier on..." She starts quietly, voice in a whisper as if afraid to awaken any other as eyes draw figures onto the floor. Jongseong can see her gulping nervously before she lifts her gaze to him. "D-did I disturb your slumber?"

He recalls his irritation from having awakened from his rest and yet, he shakes his head as a cordial, gentle smile stretches onto his face. "No, of course not. I found myself engrossed in a book and have been awake for a while. Please, come in.”

She doesn’t miss the way he rakes his lecherous gaze up and down her figure as she walks past and as soon as she hears the door shut softly behind her, she knows she’s already won.

He manages to keep his genteel manner throughout their tea time—behaving solicitously, making a few lighthearted jokes to see her smile and giggle, pouring her tea for her—and acting like a true gentleman.

If only his eyes didn’t lower to her bosom whenever she would lean forward, or to her legs whenever she would cross them or even lick his lip when she would ‘accidentally’ spill tea from the corners of her mouth from abrupt sips or rushed tilts.

“You’re very kind, Jongseong. Don’t tell the others but I feel much more comfortable with you than I am with them,” she confesses bashfully and gosh, does the pink blooms on her cheeks fuel his hunger and his legs part wider below the table as he feels blood rush between.

With a soft, endearing chuckle, he envelopes her hand that rests on the table with his which makes her raise her eyes to him with surprise. Those glossy, naive doll-like eyes that he so desperately wants to see brimming with tears of pleasure—or fear. As long as it’s him causing it.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he assures and she too, titters at his claim before her focus shifts to his hold. Slowly, she lifts it up, grasping it in hers before she touches the calloused pads of his fingers. He notices. How can he not when her touch is so feathery and warm? “Ah, the sword training and instruments I’ve played over the years left their marks.”

“Do they hurt?” She asks, voice wispy as she tenderly caresses the hardened skin. There is a sudden shift in atmosphere, tension rising and heat prickling at their skin as she looks up at him curiously, intently.

The noble lets out a ragged exhale. “No… Not at all.”

At this, a smile graces her face. “I’m happy to hear that.”

Kiss.

Jongseong’s eyes widen at the sudden intimacy—her lips against the pads of his fingers, one by one. Her actions slow, so deeply tender and pure—thus, his restraint snaps.

THUD!

His chair violently falls backwards at his abrupt rise and (y/n) finds herself pinned against the wall, tongue tangled with his.

Seong grunts into the heated kiss as he presses his clothed arousal against her before a guttural groan sounds when she reciprocates, bucking her hips forward at his advance.

By the time he pulls away, their faces are flushed and he revels in the way she shudders with desire. With lips swollen and red from his relentless presses and chews, he smirks darkly—lust clouding his eyes and rationality.

“Stop,” (y/n) rejects suddenly. Her hand against his chest as she holds him back and her shaky pupils refuse to meet with his. “We sh-shouldn’t be doing this. It’s inadequate.”

Jongseong looks down at her, his breaths hot and heavy as he feels his blood rush at her meekness. Her demureness excites him in ways he can’t comprehend. To see her trembling and panting as she struggles to remain still below his fervid gaze and yet flinches and melts into his every touch—she’s so innocent and delectable.

And to be the one to corrupt such purity—

He shivers with delight, grin widens and adrenaline courses through his veins like molten lava—igniting him from the inside out as his tongue wets his bottom lip.

“Shhh… There’s nothing to worry about,” Jongseong soothes, breath steaming against the shell of her ear and at her flinch, he almost lets out a moan of contentment. “I’m just trying to help you fall asleep.”

“How?” She asks, eyes blinking up at him with a curious twinkle and Seong brushes her hair away from her face. His gaze is affectionate, endearing and even when he kisses her forehead—so soft and loving.

If only he isn’t a corrupted man.

“I’ll show you, hm?” He starts with a charming, seductive lilt and his hand gradually climbs up her thigh with a searing touch. A glint in his sharp, clouded gaze as his lips pepper kisses to the side of her neck and down to her bust.

—

Riki watches the girl who has been the centre of his brothers' attention. It’s astounding honestly, how they’re all suddenly pursuing one girl with such enthusiasm he’s never seen before.

It almost makes them pathetic.

‘They are pathetic,’ Riki scoffs mentally and picks up a pebble off the garden floor before tossing it to the defenseless girl.

She jumps when the stone grazes her arm but quickly turns to its source. Her head tilts with confusion once seeing Riki exiting through the garden's archway to her. “Do you need something?”

“I require an explanation,” the other casually replies. His sharp eyes wander up and down her figure before cocking up a brow. “You. What sorcery have you casted on my brothers for them to act like mindless mutts?”

She puts a hand on her chest, taken aback. “Sorcery? I don’t comprehend.”

He scoffs, cynical. "Of course, you wouldn't. A witch would not simply confess to being one."

"Witch...?" (y/n) repeats, now fully understanding his insinuation. "I'm sorry but, I fail to see why you would assume such a thing.”

Riki says nothing, only continuing to glower at her before turning his face away. As much as he wishes to demand for answers, to treat her just as he treats any other disposable being to get what he wants, he can’t.

The news of Jaeyun and Sunghoon almost being permanently removed from Sunoo’s residence have spread like wildfire so Riki knows better than to touch the host’s most prized possession.

He exhales heavily, irritated before taking a big step towards the girl—instantly looming over with his chest near her face. He looks down vainly before he brusquely grasps her face in his large hand, eliciting a squeak from her. “I will find out what it is that you have up your sleeves, wench. And when that time comes, trust that you will be discarded to the streets, left to rot in your worthless, deplorable self.”

A heavy, abrupt silence engulfs them. The air stills and not a single leaf nor flower is dancing, neither the slightest rustle. The chirping birds have strangely quietened and even the clouds have shifted to cloak the sun—dimming the previously sunny and cheery ambience of the morning.

(y/n)’s brows knit as her previously apprehensive gaze sharpens to a glare of antipathy. The rims of her eyes red as her pupils stare dead into his, unwavering, unafraid as her soft, amicable aura seems to thicken into something completely different.

Hateful and…baneful.

Riki would be lying if he said he isn’t the slightest bit daunted.

So he lets her go.

“You disgust me,” he hisses before leaving the scene with long strides.

(y/n) stares at his furthering back, hands clenched to her sides as her patience thins by the second. It’s taxing to be entertaining these rambunctiously revolting and uncouth men. It’s easy when they’re at sea, her home, where she has the advantage.

But here, on land, her powers are weakened and she needs to play her cards right to ensure none would escape before she can finish them off. As vexing and laborious as it is, the result is always satisfying. To see them slowly meet their demise—crying and begging for mercy. A truly picturesque view.

“Lord Riki!” She calls and he hears her nimble footsteps chase after him before her figure stands in front to halt him. He raises a brow irritatedly. “I heard you and Sir Jungwon are commendable in the arts of dance. If you don’t mind, would you…aid me with my ballroom choreography?”

The noble scowls distastefully. “Do you not have Sunoo hyung for that?”

“He’s been busy as of late—taking care of the household and whatnot,” (y/n) explains briefly and looks up at him with the most sweetest of gaze and loveliest of smiles yet simultaneously pitiable as to gain his favour. “But if you’re unavailable, I can ask the his grace Jungwon.”

Riki’s sharp eyes scrutinize her mien and his furrow deepens at the entirely juxtaposing image he sees. Was the air of hostility she felt around her before a figment of his imagination?

He hates to leave things unsettled. So what else to do then to investigate?

“Alright, I will supervise you,” he agrees and the grin that stretches on her face unexpectedly makes his heart skip a beat. That genuine look of relief and delight is an expression rarely graced unto him. Infamous for being callous and pompous, it’s obvious that he won’t receive much…liking from others. They tend to deviate from him without giving him a chance to even speak but of course, he cares not. After all, he’s much better and grand than everybody else.

“Then, I shall see you in the ballroom!” The girl chirps and with a curtsy, she rushes away—long skirt flowing behind her in soft waves, akin to flower petals gently swaying in the wind.

Riki stares, his gaze transfixed and he swallows thickly as he takes note of his rapidly beating heart.

He can’t deny, she glows.

Meanwhile, in the main lounge are the mindless mutts—as per Riki’s words—who are enjoying their time together with rounds of billiard and glasses of expensive wine.

TACK!

Jaeyun strikes a ball and exhales a heavy breath through the nose after hearing their oldest’s query. He straightens his posture. “I’ve told you time and time again that my invitation was purely because I wished to ease her worries. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Heeseung scoffs, skeptical. “As if you could have innocent intent. I say you were hoping to win her favour and perhaps even entry to her private chamber.”

A scoff emits from the second older and they turn to Jongseong who’s swirling his cold beverage inside his crystal glass, watching it with a dreamy expression and a drunken grin.

“What’s with him? He’s been acting like this since morning,” Sunghoon asks, brows knitting at their brother’s weird behaviour. “It’s like he’s got his head in the clouds.”

Heeseung crosses his arms. “He looks strangely…blissful. What kind of ‘medication’ did you take this time?”

“Hm?” Seong raises a brow before shaking his head. That same, loopy grin still on his face as he sets down his glass onto the round table. “There’s no medication. Is it a crime for a man to simply be happy?”

Now all three are casting puzzled yet judgmental looks to him before they return to their game—which becomes instantly interrupted when he speaks his next words.

“Although I must say, this elation is all thanks to a certain, breathtaking maiden. Oh, such a sweet little vixen, she is,” he chuckles before inhaling the contents of his glass within a breath. “Truly the best I’ve ever had.”

“What??” They all blurt, almost in harmony and Heeseung strides to the intoxicated man before seizing his collar.

“What do you mean by that?” Hee asks with blatant frustration and at the other’s lovesick giggle, he tightens his grip. “Tell me!”

Knock, knock.

The other two momentarily shift their focus to the door but finds themselves mesmerized upon seeing the girl that enters with a tray of biscuits in hand.

She smiles brightly but it drops after seeing the unfolding scene. “Wh-what’s happening here?”

Heeseung and Jongseong turn at the sound of her voice and the former lets go to which the latter instantly flees to embrace the girl from behind.

His arms tight around her waist as he buries his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent and basking in her warmth that makes shivers crawl up and down his spine. Memories from last night replay in his head which instantly builds a tent in his trousers. “Hi, darling~”

His friends watch as the girl’s face flush deeply and widened eyes dart across each and every one of them before she wriggles away from the drunken noble’s hold.

“I-I heard you all were spending time in the lounge and prepared some snacks,” she says quickly with a clear of her throat, completely disregarding Jongseong’s inappropriate conduct.

Jaeyun is the first to step forward and takes the baked goods from her with his own grin. His face is radiant with joy and appreciation. “Thank you. We’ll make sure to enjoy them.”

Sunghoon nods and hand reaches out to grab one—humming with eyes turning rounder and brows raised to show his awe. “I am impressed. Did you make these on your own?”

The girl’s cheeks mantle with shyness as she bobs her head subtly. “I hope you don’t mind. I know that my skills are still lacking compared to others.”

Heeseung suddenly holds her hands in his before raising them up to press his warm, plush lips onto them. A handsome smile stretches and he gazes at her adoringly while thumbs caress her skin. “Anything made by these gentle, loving touch of yours is bound to be nothing short of perfection.”

His friends roll their eyes at his nauseating flirtatiousness and truthfully, (y/n) is repulsed by it too. If it wasn’t for the other presences in the room, she would have hissed at the man who’s so brazenly grasping her hands. He knows that, thus why he chooses to be so openly ‘affectionate.’

She smiles patiently which shifts his grin to a smirk at her defeat but his victory is short-lived due to a blotto Jongseong pulling her away and into his chest.

“Stop flirting with my woman!” He slurs with a drowsy glare at the older. He then, turns the girl around to face him before smashing his lips onto hers—eliciting large gasps and imbuing overflowing displeasure within the other three.

“What are you doing??” Sunghoon roars and roughly yanks the maiden away. His grip is forceful, enough to leave a bruise and judging from that itself, it’s clear to her that he doesn’t care about her being assaulted by Jongseong.

He’s merely a greedy, bitter boy whose shiny new toy was stolen.

(y/n) wishes nothing more than to sink her teeth into his flesh and tear a large enough hole just to see him bleed an excruciatingly slow death.

But she musn’t.

“Sunghoon, I’m fine…” She quietly says into his chest as she’s crushed tightly against it and Hoon looks down at her, brows knitting before he lifts his head back to the older. Wrath flashes across his face.

“I would have you reported to Sunoo if it isn’t for the fact that I’m already walking on eggshells in this residence,” he hisses with pure disdain before letting his gaze fall onto the girl once more. The second time, he notices the swell and small cut on her lip—a sight much too familiar for him who’s spent many passionate nights with women.

“You…you slept with her? Is that why you’ve got your nose to the skies?”

Jongeong snickers, a sneaky, smug sound as he nods with droopy eyes. “And she’s absolutely amazing. Such a wonderful performer, it made me think she’s a sinful little devil-” He pauses to set his intoxicated gaze onto the furiously flushed girl—reaching out but Sunghoon takes a step back with her. “Behind an angel face.”

Hearing his words, to listen and have his suspicions confirmed verbally, Heeseung feels an indescribable…rage bubble within him. It starts from his chest—boiling and steaming and reaching his head, inevitably causing him to burst.

“Hyung!” Jaeyun shouts in alarm when their oldest brother pounces on Jongseong, instantly straddling him onto the tiles before throwing fist after fist onto the younger’s sharp visages.

The drunken Jongseong is too blotto to properly defend himself and ends up bleeding from the nose and mouth—Heeseung’s ruthless blows proving to be not only quick but fatal too.

Sunghoon quickly spins on his heels, shielding (y/n) from witnessing the gruesome scene yet makes no attempt to calm the fight—neither does Jaeyun.

Because despite not taking an active part in turning Seong into a pulp, they both feel indiff—no, delighted and relieved to see him being bruised and battered.

After all, how dare he? To touch (y/n) when they themselves haven’t? How dare he attempt to covet her on his own?

How dare he let himself be greedy, even when all of them are too?

Unfortunately for them, their entertainment is cut short by the entrance of another noble, one whom (y/n) have been awfully keen on meeting.

“What is the meaning of this?” Jungwon asks with a stiffness and volume that suggest composed authority.

He needs not to shout. The power he holds is enough to subjugate the nobles, to mute their voices and bind their movements.

The abrupt silence is deafening and (y/n) listens to the only sound heard—Sunghoon's rapidly beating heartbeat. He's nervous, scared of Yang Jungwon. They all are.

And the knowledge of that makes the corners of her mouth lift and body shiver with thrill. He's here, the master puppeteer she needs.

Sunghoon feels her tremble, misunderstanding it as a sign of fear and his arms encase her further—hoping to comfort her whilst also quelling his own anxiety.

Jungwon arches a brow, a look of displeasure formed as his tongue runs across his right molars. "Why the abrupt quietness? Where did all that vigor go, hyungs?"

Heeseung clears his throat as he reluctantly frees Jongseong's collar from his forceful grip, leaving him sprawled and wounded on the floor. "It is nothing. Just...a small disagreement."

Won runs a scrutinizing gaze up and down his figure before at the others who divert their eyes away from the noble of higher ranking and finally, his stare fixes onto the girl securely held in Hoon's toned, muscular arms. "Why is she here?"

"She just stopped by to deliver us refreshments," Jaeyun chimes and gestures to the tray of biscuits. "She has nothing to do with the argument."

"You do know that if Sunoo hyung were to discover of this, you and Sunghoon hyung would be in a position much precarious than you already are, don't you?" Won asks and the older nods meekly. "Then why do I see neither of you attempting to cease the fight?"

The mentioned two grow stiff at this, both their mind and body as they're unable to muster up a logical and excusable reason.

How can they say that the reason they did nothing is because they were jealous of Jongseong? That they wanted him to be maimed to the point of no return for touching what is theirs? Of course, they each have a twisted and different belief regarding their ownership of (y/n)—each thinking that they are more deserving of (y/n) than the other.

It's laughable.

"She should not be here. Sunoo hyung will only grow more agitated than he already is if he were to find out," Jungwon sighs out exasperatedly and turns to the girl, a hand reaching out to her. "Come with me. I'm sure the maids have gone to inform the host of this...shameful and disappointing occurrence. It's best that you are absent when he comes to check."

(y/n) stares at his palm, wordless and expression ambiguous. To get a man with a character like Jungwon, what is the best approach?

Should she be unconditionally obedient and bend to his every whim? Or should she be rebellious—denying and challenging his overwhelming authority that he so very much holds pride in?

Then again, why not both?

She accepts his hand, sliding hers onto it with the softest of touches and just when Jungwon's victorious grin begins to form and fingers start to curl around hers, she pulls away.

His face falls instantly as he brings his rounded, confused eyes to the girl who's now clutching onto Sunghoon's arm like a fearful feline—much to Sunghoon's pleasure, if he is to be honest.

"How am I meant to trust and follow you? I don't know who you are," (y/n) says with deep skepticism as well as a light furrow, a striking difference to the others who wear miens of shock and fright.

Did she just say she does not recognise Yang Jungwon? The son to the prestigious, mighty noble family only second in line of power aside from royalty? If it was any other person, their head would be flying with a swing of a sword and body burnt at stake for all to see as a fair warning.

Sunghoon quickly grapples her shoulders as he looks down to her with widened, frantic eyes before back at the younger yet more prominent figure in high society. "It seems she has not been thoroughly educated seeing as how she is still ignorant to the knowledge regarding the aristocracy. It seems Sunoo has been too occupied with his household responsibilities to acquire her a tutor."

Jaeyun and Heeseung both nod their heads in agreement while Jongseong remains sprawled and inert on the floor, unconscious from their oldest's aggression.

Jungwon shifts his sharpened gaze from Hoon to the others, seeing the panic and plead for his mercy—a shocking display as their desperation is not for themselves—but for the girl who, unlike the others, remain composed and still as she stares right at him. So bold and reckless. His brows knit but he quickly clears his throat before straightening his posture with a deep breath.

"Of course, she is not to blame," he says with strained politeness. "My name is Yang Jungwon, second son of the renowned Yang Ducal Family. I am also a childhood friend of the host, your saviour, Kim Sunoo. Will this be ample enough of information for you to deem me trustworthy for now?"

All eyes dart to the lone maiden who continues her silence for a good few seconds before finally, slipping away from Sunghoon's reluctant grip to approach Jungwon.

No other words are exchanged with the others as the two stride out the room, arm in arm, with the noble guiding her away.

"Tell me, (y/n)," Jungwon starts without so much as a glance to the addressed. "What prompted for such an argument to transpire?"

His beautiful dark eyes trail towards the girl and he sees her reticence from her nervous blinks and bite onto her bottom lip. A smug grin stretches to reveal his dimple as he now triumphs in his success of unnerving her who was previously so brazen.

"It is merely a drunken fight. Jongseong have had a little too much to drink and Heeseung sought to quell his outbursts. The others were afraid that their intervention would lead to more troubles thus why they remained at the sides," (y/n) answers while deliberately avoiding the main reason for the fight: her. "It is just that."

Undoubtedly, Jungwon is not fooled. He has been friends with those rotten nobles for as long as he can remember to know that Jongseong is not one to have violent drunk habits. Something, or someone, must have caused such a chaos. "Is that so? I take it that there is no reason for you to lie to me but I can't help from wondering if it truly is as simple as you say."

"As you have said, there is no reason for me to be untruthful," (y/n) concurs.

"Agreed. So why do I feel as though you are hiding something from me?" He accuses. The teasing yet, predatory cadence of his tone acting as a warning—an indirect but clear message for her to tell him the full story or there will be consequences.

And yet, she manages to shock him once more with her response. Turning her head to him, her brows knit and stare hardens enough to reveal a sliver of her displeasure. "Why are you so eager to know? What benefit will it bring for you? It has passed and you will not be able to change anything even if you were to discover what caused it."

Jungwon grins upon noticing the falter of facade. The past few days he has seen her, she was always so gentle, sweet—a truly angelic soul but he knows better. To be able to effectively have his brothers wrapped around her dainty fingers—to have them begging for her, to have them pursue and continue to with unwavering interest—she needs to be more than just a naive, kind soul. She needs to be smart. Manipulative. And maybe even...twisted as they are, in a way, if not more.

"I merely am curious. There is no sin in that, is there?" He sings after, almost in a purr as delight fills him at her new character.

Their gazes are fixed, boring into one another and her rosy lips part to speak.

"Curiousity kills the cat."

"But, I am not a cat."

"True, however-" she starts and her scrutinizing gaze wanders his face, tracing his features with silent judgement before her lips pull to a small smile—surprising him. "You look like one. A cat."

His smug, confident thoughts turn silent at this, upturned eyes falling back to their original shape and jaw tightens.

What does she mean by that? Was that...a threat? Was she, in a way, warning him not to pry further or an impending doom will follow? She?

Insignificant she?

Worthless, untitled and nameless she?

How mindless. Brazen. Irritatingly... amusing. So very entertaining, it leaves him wanting to see more.

"I believe this is far enough. Thank you for your company and care, your grace," (y/n) suddenly says and he takes note of the lack of frigidity and impishness that she portrayed before—now returned to carry that air of naivety and sweet innocence as she bows politely. "Until we see each other again."

And with that she departs without a single glance back or hesitation and Jungwon finds himself transfixed until her figure disappears around a corner.

He gasps quietly, unaware of his own behaviour and clears his throat before hasting away to the other direction.

Meanwhile, (y/n) grins to herself as she recalls his diverse expressions in her head. Jungwon's so easily taken aback and rattled for such a renowned aristocrat. That's the thing with powerful people—so accustomed to others giving them their unconditional respect and bending to their every will that they sometimes forget that there are those who will not be subservient as how they expect them to be.

That there are others who can choose to challenge their authority and it riddles the nobles sometimes, unable to properly react and believe such truth.

Truly, the only naive and ignorant here is Yang Jungwon himself.

—

Riki stands outside the ballroom with his hand holding the handle in contemplation.

Is this the right choice? Or is it just a waste of time? It brings him no advantage whatsoever to find out more about her. After all, even if he were to discover that (y/n) is not as pristine as she is and instead, a vile, wicked with Riki believes her to be, none of his brothers will trust him.

With them being so enraptured by the girl, they'll simply think he is telling fibs, giving no weight whatsoever to his words.

Still, Riki finds himself pulling the door open since he is in fact, already at the agreed venue. But he doesn't expect to be so quickly paralyzed—not of fear, no, but more of...mesmerized by her beauty—within one foot in.

There, within the massive, empty ballroom is the dancing maiden who is adorned in soft fabric of silky white and a sheer white scarf that she uses as a prop.

Holding it in her hands, she performs immaculately as she hums an eerie yet, mystical tune that echoes within the four tall walls of the chamber—resounding and hypnotising like a siren's song.

Every single sway, bend and twirl are executed with perfection, with elegance and precision that rivals those that are already masters at choreography. Her hair flows and drapes beautifully alongside the thin fabric that she grasps in her hands—as if able to control their movements and they wave and float so gracefully that Riki's certain she must have used a kind of sorcery.

Her movements are akin to the flow of water. Sometimes slow and calm and yet so sharp and fierce at others however, they all blend so seamlessly. She not only is a virtuoso in the arts of dance, but she herself, is the masterpiece.

Riki's plush lips part as he breathes deep and slow. His sharp eyes widened slightly as she stares at her with pure awe. She glows. She undeniably is otherworldly.

"Riki?" Her soft voice echoes when she speaks and even the sound itself is spellbinding to him. He remains still as she approaches him who's still standing at the door and (y/n) tilts her head with subtle bemusement. "Why have you not entered yet? Come."

Unalike his previous hostility to the girl, he continues to be silent and relenting when she gently holds his hand to bring him further into the room.

She uses no force whatsoever as his feet seem to move on their own.

"Will you guide me?" (y/n) asks and looks up at him whose gaze has never once left her from the very moment he stepped into the ballroom. "Sunoo says that to learn ballroom choreography and etiquette is of most importance. Unfortunately, with him so busy with his responsibilities, I have not been able to sharpen my dance."

Riki says nothing at first and his hand naturally finds its way to her waist, momentarily surprising her before his other hand leads one of hers to rest on his shoulder. "I shall help you."

And that he does.

His change in character takes (y/n) aback. She did not expect him to be so easy to tame when he was so adamant against her before. But it seems to her know that he's merely a young lord desperate for the love and attention he is so deeply deprived of.

And there's nothing more fun to (y/n) than to indulge in his simple little wishes to gain his trust and affections, to make him lean on her and to be the first he searches for in times of need—just to completely vanish. Oh, how delicious his agony will be for her.

"Thank you for teaching me," (y/n) says after they've finished their lesson and Riki, like for the most of their time together in the ballroom, remains silent and only nods. "You do have commendable skills in choreography.”

Riki’s heart skips a beat at her compliment paired with that little cheeky smile that she wears and he has to momentarily move his eyes away, hiding his shyness.

(y/n)’s smile widens at this, finding delight at his crumbling walls but then a knock at the door steals their attention.

A maid bows to a perfect angle, hands on her centre abdomen before she stands back up straight. “Madam (y/n), Lord Sunoo have asked for your presence in his study.”

Riki furrows at this as mild jealousy imbues. It’s unfair how Sunoo is the only one allowed to summon (y/n) whenever and wherever he wants. But the younger quickly pushes the thought away at the realization that he’s beginning yo hold affection for the girl.

“Thank you for telling me. I shall make my way soon,” (y/n) replies and the servant bows again before departing, leaving (y/n) and the noble alone once more. “Thank you once more for being such a patient tutor. I will show you my gratitude some other day soon.“

‘Patient?’ The word echoes in the noble’s mind. Such a rare praise for him to be graced upon.

He focuses back to the girl when she offers a small curtsy before rushing the door with nimble, soundless steps. It still amazes him how she can seem to levitate.

The door swings open in her hold but she stops just as it widens to a gap wide enough—turning around to smile at him and eyes scintillate.

“You have very warm and gentle hands, Lord Riki. It seems I was wrong to believe you were a completely stoic and cold figure,” she comments lastly and throws in a small, soft chuckle before finally slipping through the space.

Riki stands still, dumbfounded and heart races fervently in his chest. He looks down at his shoes as his adam apple bobs in his throat, nervously swallowing at the realization of what’s becoming of him.

What’s blooming within him for (y/n).

And so he wears a mien of displeasure, rejecting the idea as he approaches the doors. ‘Preposterous.’

But the blush that dusts his cheeks tell no lie.

It doesn’t take long for (y/n) to arrive at Sunoo’s study and the moment she entered, she’s instantly wrapped within the warm embrace of his arms.

“I missed you. I missed you so dearly, so much,” he whispers earnestly against her head before pressing a long, affectionate kiss on her temple. “The days without your presence felt so long and torturous. I felt my sanity fleeting.”

(y/n) can’t help the giggle that emits and she reciprocates his touch with one of her own—caressing the back of his head as her fingers play with the hair tickling his nape.

Her voice is pure music to his ears, the most melodic of tunes and he purrs—nuzzling deeper into her hair and pressing her tight against his bod. The warmth from her figure makes him melt and he brings them to the couch whilst still intertwined.

Sitting her on his lap, Sunoo rests his hand on her thigh while the other gently combs through her hair that drapes down her back.

“Is your work finished?” (y/n) asks, looking at him who gazes at her with oozing endearment.

He nods, meeting her eyes and pupils dilate as his heart swells with overflowing adoration for the girl. “Finally. Now, I can spend my days with you without interruption.”

The air in the room feels light and almost infused with a sort of aromatherapy the moment she entered, untangling every knot in his exhausted muscles and fogging his brain to the point of blissful dumbness.

His eyes see nothing but her, ears hear nothing but her and mind thinking of her and only her. He’s consumed by her in every possible manner and he will not have it any other way.

“Why do you look at me like so?” (y/n) asks and lifts her hand to cup his cheek which he leans himself further into.

“Like what?”

The girl begins to stroke his cheek and he shudders at the feeling, a shaky sigh leaving past his rosy lips at the delightful sensation he has craved for so long.

“As if… you would lay down your life for me,” she finishes and he almost snorts at her words—not of ridicule, but of amusement that she only thinks it. At this point, he thought he has made it clear enough for her to know that he will.

That he will lay down his life, his everything, if it meant that it is for her.

“(y/n), I have surrendered to you, body and soul,” Sunoo declares without a single pinch of hesitation and he wraps his fingers around her arm softly before pressing his lips onto the inner wrist.

The sensation is warm and an unfamiliar fuzziness erupts from the girl’s chest and travels to every end of her limbs. Especially so when Sunoo’s other hand cups her chin and their eyes meet. “I’ve grown to love you, (y/n). So deeply and so intently, that I now see no future without you in it. If you were to disappear, I will, with no doubt perish.”

His words ignite something within the siren and her deep, searching eyes spark with an enigmatic quality.

The silence in the room is deafening aside from their soft exhales and inhales. The atmosphere begins to shift from wholesome lightheartedness to a tantalizing provocativeness.

Sunoo’s breaths hitch when (y/n)’s gaze flickers to his lips and he stills—hands resting on his sides now curling into the cushions they sit on and heart beating rapidly in its cage, almost as if it aims to break from its confines.

“(y/n),” he mewls after a while of inertia from the other, the suspense beginning to kill him as his throat dries and body trembles with need. “(y/n)…”

The girl titters warmly at his desperation, finding him absolutely lovely as he quivers ever so slightly under her and knuckles turned white from his fierce clutch on the couch.

She can’t deny him any longer—leaning forward to his lips and he meets her halfway eagerly.

A choked moan escapes him at the contact and his arms tremble as they lift to wrap around her waist. Pretty long lashes flutter as his eyelids close to relish in the moment, in her.

He gasps into the kiss when her tongue darts between his lips to explore his mouth and his brain nearly goes into short circuit, almost shutting down from the amount of pleasure and bliss he’s being filled with.

(y/n) smiles against him—hand trailing from around his neck down to his chest which causes his bod to flex and tighten in response and he whimpers when feeling her fingers trace the waistband of his trousers.

Despite being so out of breath, he refuses to pull away and (y/n) has to lean herself back just so they’d separate—immediately gaining a whine of disappointment from the noble.

“You’re so beautiful…” (y/n) praises, voice wispy and Sunoo groans with contentment at that. His pupils are blown out and they’re especially visible due to the honey tone of his foxy eyes and it fills the siren with satisfaction. “My beautiful, sweet boy…”

Her words only feed to his hunger and he’s back to chasing after her lips—prodding his nose against her cheek as he pants, craving for her taste once more yet fearful to do so without her permission.

“I’m yours, all yours,” he breathes out in feeble yet heavy mewls as his lips latch onto her shoulder, kissing every exposed surface to satiate his fervent hunger for her.

(y/n) hums and she pulls him closer, eliciting an excited moan from the lad who instantly begins to savor everything of her. Burying his nose in the crook of her neck and licking stripes of her skin—he’s addicted to her.

He lowers her onto the couch with slow, gentle motions, letting her head rest on the pillowy armchair as he sandwiches her into the couch. A soft grunt escapes him at the pressure against his hardened core and (y/n) notices instantly—feeling the stiffness as he instinctively bucks his hips forward.

Sunoo bites his lip in panic and face mantles with shame. "I-I'm sorry. I just..."

He quietens at (y/n)'s soothing shushes as her hand gently strokes his back, causing him to quiver more violently than before.

"It's alright, Sunoo. You’re alright," she assures and she lifts her head slightly, letting her lips graze the shell of his ear to which he mewls at. "Use me."

At her permit, his eyes widen briefly but soon after, he finds himself moving—frantic and desperate—and rutting against her like a poor dog.

(y/n) grins at this, whispering sweet nothings into his ear which easily drives him over the edge and eyes roll to the back of his skull as his jaw falls slack—letting out pretty little sounds and chanting her name like a mantra.

So utterly pathetically lovely.

—

That night.

Heeseung sits on the couch in his room. His bottom lip is captured between his teeth as he chews on it contemplatively, eyes drift left to right between rapid blinks and he lets out deep exhale.

Should he tell Sunoo about Jongseong sleeping with (y/n)? If he does so, then Jongseong will obviously face punishment—which Heeseung hopes to be dire enough so he can never meet with the girl ever again—and that will obviously benefit him in pursuing (y/n). One less rival to worry about.

However, it is also a risk. Sunoo has been noticeably volatile as of late, and (y/n) seems to be a constant catalyst for it. His attention and senses are piqued whenever it concerns her and even just letting her name roll off his tongue might bring unfavourable consequences.

A groan leaves his throat and his head falls against the couch, weighty from the stress.

But he wants to rid off Jongseong. The fact that the latter's already spent a passionate evening with (y/n) when she's still guarded around him shows how greatly disadvantaged he is. And even more so with (y/n) seeming to have a personal level of dislike with him.

Knock, knock.

A frustrated sigh escapes as he drags himself to the door and opens it with a harsh swing.

"You seem distressed. Would it be presumptuous of me to think it involves me?" (y/n) asks with a brow raised and tone mocking.

Heeseung stands stiff with doe eyes widened in surprise at her unexpected visit, especially at such a scandalous hour. "No... I-I was thinking of you."

"Your honesty is endearing," she coos and strides into the room without bothering to ask for his permission. She sits herself onto the edge of his bed and crosses her legs and arms—eyes darting to him a and she furrows. "Would you rather have a servant see me in your chambers at this unholy hour? Close the door."

The owner of the room does as ordered, careful to ensure that it's securely locked before approaching the girl who's so casually waiting for him.

It unnerves him somehow—how he's the one anxious and jittery at being in one same room with the maiden despite it being his own. Not to mention the clear power dynamic between them, her being supposedly more subservient and meek.

The realisation of that irks him now and his fingers curl to form fists at his sides.

"What brings you here?" He asks directly, stoic and stern to feign control.

"To ease your worries," (y/n) replies sweetly and Heeseung's hair rises at it—both aroused and yet fearful of how angelic she can sound despite the wicked slyness that lies within.

He gulps. “Wha…What do you mean?”

“I’ll give you the answer to your questions: don’t.”

The noble furrows with confusion at this before finally understanding what she means, plush lips parting in awe before it tilts to a condescending smirk—brow arching as a scoff escapes. “And why should I heed your words?”

(y/n) stares and shakes her head softly. “It is simple a suggestion. If you wish to go against it then do so. However, I cannot assure you that you would remain untouched.”

Her ambiguous statement makes him tilt his head and she continues. Leaning back with her arms by her sides to prop her figure, she too drops her head slightly backwards to look up at him.

“Do you know why Sunghoon was almost removed from the property?” She starts and Heeseung shakes his head, belatedly realizing that they’ve only truly heard the full story of Jaeyun but not the younger lad. “It is because he offered a proposition to Sunoo—to transfer me to a corrective facility to fix my ‘insanity.’ As solicitous and gracious as it is, why do you think Sunoo was so negative towards it?”

Hee frowns, growing more puzzled at her riddle and what she is leading to, only able to shake his head side to side.

“Simply, it is because he interpreted it as Sunghoon trying to steal me away. It is the same with Jaeyun where he understands his little act of defiance as him coveting me, to attempt to win my affections. So you see, dear Sunoo perceives all of you as his enemies. You are no exception,” (y/n) finishes and Heeseung stumbles backwards at her abrupt rise.

Taking small steps forward which leads to his retreat, the back of his knees eventually touch the cushions of his couch before ultimately stumbling onto it. He gasps when (y/n) climbs atop him—legs straddling his lap as she cages his head between her hands that rest on the seat’s header.

“You’re a smart boy, are you not?” She taunts and despite it meaning to be of insult to him, he finds himself perking—heart racing and breaths hitching in anticipation and want. “Then, I believe you will make the right choice, Heeseung.”

The mention of his name with her tongue makes him eager, wishing to hear it more and more and his hand travels upwards to gently hold her arm. “At least, tell me why. Why are you so against me telling Sunoo? Will it not be more favourable for you to have me removed—seeing as how you don’t seem to very wlecoming of me? Or do you hold so much affection for Jongseong that you fear having him separated?”

Saying it aloud pierces a shard into his chest.

'She does not hold any affection for me. She does not... want me.'

The reminder of that pains him so even when he tries his hardest to reject it. He refuses to succumb, to be defeated and crushed by the weight of this disappointment and grave hurt but with every passing second, it only grows.

He thought his feelings for (y/n) was mere infatuation—short-lived and cheap obsession, something that will dissipate within a few days—but it's clear now that what he feels is much more real and complex than he ever expected.

Heeseung truly likes her. He's besotted, enamoured and it's excruciating to know that his feelings will never be reciprocated.

"What are you saying?" (y/n)'s airy, enchanting voice distracts his from his thoughts and he's made to meet her eyes by her hands that cup his jaw to lift it. Seeing her however, only fuels the flames of anguish in his heart and his cheeks flush as eyes water.

"Am I not correct? Is what I say not true?" He manages to ask through his cracking voice and he purses his lips after to quieten the sobs that threaten to escape.

"Yes...but also no," (y/n) replies and Heeseung frowns, confused and even more so when she lowers slightly to plant a fond, lingering kiss on his forehead. When she pulls away, he's staring up at her with eyes glossed over and lips parted with surprise. "It is true that I hold affection for Jongseong but, it is untrue that I am unwelcoming of you. If anything, I am most inclined towards you."

"You jest," Heeseung denies, brows knitting but the stardust in his eyes belie his actions—secretly hoping she will refute him. “If you mean what you say, then you would not have been so cold to me while you are so sweet and loving to the others.”

His near-sulky response through his pouty lips make her giggle and seeing it ignites the hope Hee holds.

“Silly, aren’t you? Have you not yet understood? The reason why I am so cold to you, and only you is because you are the only one I truly am comfortable with. You are the only one whom I trust enough to reveal my true self—you, Heeseung, are special.”

The sparks in his eyes multiply like stars in the black night sky, twinkling brighter and bigger, after hearing her explanation.

Can it be…can she really be telling the truth?

Before he can ponder on the thought, he’s rendered speechless, brainless by the chaste kiss that (y/n) graces him and he gasps into it.

“Again,” he breathes out after she pulls away but shr presses her finger against his mouth when he attempts to push forward. “Please. I’ve been dreaming for this day for so long. Can I not have just one more?”

“The type of man you are, you will not be satisfied with a kiss,” (y/n) slurs provocatively and Heeseung’s adam apple bobs anxiously and excitedly.

She stands, hands now behind her back as she looks down tenderly at the panting man who’s clearly struggling in his seat—and trousers. “As much as I am fond of you, I only grant rewards to those who deserve it. Do you think you are deserving?”

His lips part and quiver, wanting to answer and yet unsure of what to say.

(y/n) smirks before turning away from the young lord whose anxiety only grows at seeing her departure.

It is no wonder that she can only take one full step before suddenly being halted by a pair of hands gripping the back of her long skirt with vehement determination.

“I deserve it! I do! I shall do as you say and bring the knowledge of your affairs with Jongseong to my grave! I w-will not say a word so please, please,” Heeseung begs for her approbation with chest heaving violently from heavy breaths. “Reward me with your affections. D-did you not say that to you, I…I am special?”

(y/n)’s spine tingles with anticipation and delight at the vulnerability his portrays—turning around to set her eyes on the other who's settled on his knees, dead set on having her even at the cost of his own pride.

She tuts in pretense before hovering her hand above his head to which he lifts himself slightly to touch his crown against it, letting out a shuddered breath at her warmth. "Can I trust you?"

Heeseung nods vigorously with eyes wide and fingers taut around the fabric shielding her legs. His hair bounces and he crawls forward to nuzzle his face against them. "Yes, yes, you can! Just please, I yearn for you so gravely. My mind has been filled with nothing but thoughts of you. I've made it a habit of mine to stroll in the garden every day in hopes that I could meet you, or even catch the slightest glimpse of you and yet, I never could. It's driven me half-mad. "But after hearing that you've shared an evening with Jongseong, my rationality have been tested and the thread of sanity slipped between my fingers much easily than I ever expected. I've never felt this way to anyone ever before and I struggle—I am tortured each day without having your presence, your attention despite knowing that you've bestowed it upon Sunoo so unconditionally. I—You...you've bewitched me, (y/n). And yet, I find it so grand, so beautiful as it is excruciating."

(y/n) only stares at the poor, pitiable vile noble—watching as his glassy eyes pool the longer she remains silent. To him, her quiet is devasting. He interprets it as rejection and despite being a man who can easily obtain what he wants—with or without consent—he finds himself needing her approval. He craves to hear her validation.

And (y/n), as always, knows that. She's aware of how poor little Heeseung is actually a sheep beneath his wolf' clothing. He acts so tough and cold to remain untouchable, to remind those around him that he is a man of power—a snap of his fingers and they'll be sent behind bars or stripped off their clothes.

Unfortunately, the more he plays this daunting, dominating character, the more he forgets his true skin and how truly vulnerable he is. And once that shiny armour of bravado is torn off his figure, he is left bare, naked for all to see.

Much like he is now.

"My poor Heeseung. All this time I have been so aloof with you to conceal my admiration but it seems I have grown overboard. Look at you," she coos as she too joins him on the floor. His eyes never leave hers and his head lowers to now be face-to-face as he sniffles.

With a nose as red as Rudolph and eyes as clear and vulnerable like a prey against predator—he is truly a sight to behold.

"It is only fair that I make it up to you, hm?" She asks wispily and once again, his head bobs violently, eager to be rewarded and she grins—cupping his cheek with one hand and gently pulling his head back by the hair to expose his neck. "Of course, anything my love wants, he shall have."

'My love.'

The endearing term echoes in his head and he whimpers at how pretty it sounds. How pretty she sounds. And along with her hot, pillowy lips pressed against his throat, it doesn't take much time for him to emit a guttural, rumbling groan before he bursts right then and there—writhing and convulsing in her hold as she continues to devour him until the break of dawn.

After all, she is hungry—and vain, iniquitous men just happens to be her favourite delicacy.

𝓟𝓐𝓡𝓣 3 (the finale)

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

inspired by ‘milk of the sirens’ by melanie martinez and ‘siren’ by kailee morgue

𝜗𝜚 finally the second's part here, so sorry it took so long!! (┬_┬) i'm sorry to those who i said it would come out last two weeks ago, i hope this chap's entertaining enough to make up for it!! anyways, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog for some motivation!! but please, do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

taglist for this series is closed—thank you for supporting ♡

@angelicyouth @lilyuwon @sakanelli-afc @lakoya @clara12o @heeseung-min @inkpot-winters @lilikisuki @randomanothercreature @laylasbunbunny @hveanlyanqelic

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[valsvalentine]

A game of guess who

Yuji Itadori x fem!reader

ʚ summary. You finally get the guts to make a move on your long time crush, what could go wrong you may be asking? Everything. Once you send one accidental message you are forced to stay anonymous by your growing anxiety and fear of rejection, so you decide to turn this into a game of sorts, one everybody has heard of before; guess who!

ʚ genre. fluff

ʚ warning. strong language, not proof read

part I .. part II .. part III

Well shit. Maybe texting your crush such a cocky text wasn’t a very good idea. But who could blame you? Your mom yelled your full name. Who wouldn’t drop their phone in an instant and sprint to their life giver and go on your knees to beg for her to spare that life? Exactly. So that’s what brought you here, trying to figure out how to escspe the mess you got yourself in —by accident.

You sighed, Maki and Nobara urging you to reply to the poor boy since you’ve left him on read for like 15 minutes now. “You’re doing great girl! Leaving the boy you love on read is doing wonders!” Nobara said sarcastically and Maki just laughed in response at the funny scene before her. A groan echoed through your room, rolling onto your stomach you typed out responses but every single one felt off. You weren’t messaging quite like yourself, it didn’t seem right and even the girls noticed your uncertain aura. “Y/N just message how you usually do, I’m sure he will like you just the way you are!” You smile softly but there was still so much anxiety in you, your hands shaking just a bit and your chest felt tight. “But I can’t just tell him who I am! I’ll just.. stay anonymous for a while before I reveal myself to him or maybe he might figure it out before then.” You say and they try to talk you out of it, but agree once they notice you really are certain about this little plan of yours.

Yuji<33

Heyy<3

Who’s this? :D

Hello??

??

hdjdhdjjsd I am so so sorry I really

didn’t mean to add the heart

No no it’s okay!

I mean no one has really been this straight forward with me before lmao

But really, who is this?

That’s for me to know, and for

you to find out ;D

Ohh so that’s how u wanna be yeah?

Well tell me this, are u at least my age? cuz tbh I really don’t wanna be texting a pedo rn

HELPP NOO IM FROM YOUR

SCHOOL DW

And what exactly are your intentions? I don’t get why u won’t tell me who u are?

scared of rejection?? anddd i don’t

wanna get humiliated so staying

anonymous was the safest bet

lmaoo alr nw :D But tell me a bit about yourself, I’d like to get to know you a lil better since I’m guessing you know something about me?

hmmm this seems like a trick

NOOO I PROMISE IT’S NOT

You don’t have to tell me your name just give me some kind of hints you know?

Oo maybe like a guess who kind of game?

Wait that’s actually genius

Genius is my middle name bbg

BBG?? STOP???

JK JK

Okay but let’s make this into something like a bet

If I guess who you are by the end of next week I get a favor, and if you manage to stay anonymous for the entire time, I owe you a favor

Seems fair right?

yeah okay, well if you really wanna know

something about me then im in a few of

your classes

Wow that really narrowed down the list

Be happy I’m even telling you anything >:|

I GO TO CLASS WITH LIKE 20 DIFFERENT GIRLS

HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO GUESS WHO YOU

ARE IF THESE ARE THE HINTS YOU GIVE ???

who said I’m a girl ??

…

…

jk jk dw

OKAY OKAY

ANYWAYYY

I gtg, ttyl<3

Were gonna discuss that heart later

mister steal yo heart…

BLOCK

IM KIDDING YUJI STAWP TTYL<333

liked 1 minute ago

You sigh as the conversation finally ends and the girls cheer since you managed to not completely embarrass yourself like they expected you to. You say your goodbyes and get ready for bed, going downstairs to eat a quick dinner before going right back to your bed. ‘Well today was not as productive as I wanted it to be, but at least I got to message Yuji so that’s a good thing.’ You think to yourself as you smile into your pillow and cuddle into the sheets. ‘Tommorow will be better.’

Classes went by quite quickly, heading to the lunch room to meet up with Nobara and Maki so you could involuntarily discuss last nights events. You notice Nobara at your usual seats outside, scrolling on her phone before noticing you and waving you over. “Hey ‘Bara! Ready for the sports event today?” She groaned, starting to complain so you sat down and giggled at her grumpy state. “Why would they think it’s a good idea to host a sports event? Nobody likes to sweat.” She stated and started to eat her lunch.

“Don’t know, I’m glad they decided i’d be helping around, showing people which way to run and all that business.” Nobara rolled her eyes, mumbling something before changing the subject.

“Soo how are you and Yuji?~” She giggled and urged you to talk. You thought for a second, knowing damn well you avoided his texts just a few hours ago. Sighing, you take out your phone and show her the texts, preparing yourself for a scolding. “Wow Y/N, you’re doing great with this ‘texting my crush’ thing!” She exclaimed sarcastically and hit you over the head. “Reply to him! Don’t worry N/N literally everyone is on their phone right now, he will have a hard time figuring out who you are, especially here.”

After a bit of convincing, you decide to text him back. It really was stupid leaving him on delivered for so long but who could blame you? That boy would be the death of you with his cute smile, cute remarks.. everything about him was just so mesmerising.

Yuji<33

good morning xx

did you sleep well?

am I getting ghosted rn

??? D:

heyy sorry I was a bit busy this morning

I slept pretty good, wbu? :D

lolll I was starting to get worried

I slept well :P

Soo what are you doing after school?

I’m attending the schools sports event!

Oh? And what are you gonna do?

I mean if you’re gonna help around or actually

participate in it?

I am NOT falling for that !!

AWW

AND I THOUGHT I’D TRICK YOU

D:<

You should work on your detective

skills :3

KYS

jk

that was a bit harsh

I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT </3

LOLL DWW

Well anyway, see you at the sports

event Yuji<3

Yeah yeah ‘see you’ you stalker >:[

Yours trulyy >:3

read 2 minutes ago

“He definitely likes you!” Nobara exclaims and smiles from ear to ear, kicking her feet excitedly under the table. You chuckle softly at her behaviour, patting her back to try and calm her bursting energy before sighing. “That’s quite unlikely, he’s probably just curious about who I am.” You say as you packed up your lunchbox and walked to your next class; P.E.

“Well he definitely finds you interesting! He would’ve probably rejected you if he didn’t think you were the slightest bit of interesting last night!” She jumped up and down as she walked to the girls changing room and set her things down.

The teacher talked about the sports event, gathering all of the helpers in one group before speaking up. “L/N, Inumaki, Zen’in, Nishimiya, Itadori….” The teacher listed names of everyone like they weren’t right in front of him and finally told us our asigned jobs. “L/N and Itadori will be helping around during the relay race. Mostly just checking if people are running the right way and don’t get lost.” You lock eyes with Itadori who smiled at you and put up a peace sign, making you chuckle at the sweet boy.

You internally panicked, mentally noting to turn off your notifications for the whole day and not expose much about yourself if he decides to get curious.

Finally the class ended so you were all free to either go home to gather your things or stay to help with preparations. You chose the latter, going to change into something more sporty before heading out to help set up where the students would be running. The principal decided they would start running in front of the school, turn left to run beside the school, around the basketball court, and straight back to the front of the school to hand the ‘stick’ to their teammate so they could repeat it. There were 3 teams and in each team there were 5 students, some being guests so that was why you were tasked to guide them if they got lost. ‘This is going to be a long day.’

At 4:15pm, an hour later after classes finished for the day the event started, quite a lot of students showing up along with their families who would cheer them on. You saw a few familiar faces, Nobara of course, Maki, Yuta, Megumi who would be participating in some of the sports. You pitied them, not really wanting to run in this weather that much but it wasn’t really your choice to make. Yuji had joined you about 30 minutes ago, telling you he’d be by the basketball court while you would be close to the finish line where there were two turns, knowing that at least half of the guests would take a wrong turn. Yuji smiled at you from the basketball court, waving at you and yelling a ‘You okay?’ your way since you looked pretty exhausted. The sun was draining your energy but you gave him thumbs up and focused once you heard the principal speaking through the microphone.

“Good afternoon, everyone! Welcome to our annual sports day! Today is all about teamwork, effort, and having fun. To kick things off, we’re starting with the exciting relay race, where teamwork truly shines. Let’s cheer on our athletes as they give their best, and may the best team win! Good luck students, and let’s make today a memorable one!”

A loud whistle blew as the race began, the first 3 students running to try and grasp at the first place title. You notice only one familiar face, Megumi as he makes his way around the basketball court behind some girl you hadn’t seen on campus before.

“Come on Fushiguro! Kick their asses!” You yell and point towards the way they are all supposed to go, the last person just finishing running around the court before sprinting after everyone else. ‘Yeah that would definitely be my situation if I was to participate in this.’ You chuckle to yourself and refocus on your job as the next few people begin to come into view.

The race took about 15 minutes to complete and Megumis team had won first place even though Megumi was second during his lap which amazed you but of course you couldn’t let them go without congratulating them with a smile. “You all did great!” High fiving them before going to fetch yourself some water. You jog to the locker rooms, opening your locker and looking through your bag to see the tiniest bit of water. ‘Just my luck.’ You curse before walking to the small water fountain you had in the halls and filled up your bottle. The sound of someone’s footsteps echoed through the halls as the familiar pink haired boy ran into you. The water spilled on you as you hadn’t gotten the chance to close your water bottle. A groan escaped your lips as you fell right onto your behind, a panicked voice stuttering out apologies and helping you up.

“Hey, Itadori it’s fine.” You smile and try to get some of the water out of your shirt. “L/N I am so so sorry! I was in a rush and I didn’t notice you. I have a spare shirt you can borrow in my locker, come on.” He dragged you with him, not giving you the chance to respond as he opened his locker and shuffled through his things before throwing you a black shirt with some dark red patterns.

The smell of his cologne filled your nostrils as the shirt landed in your arms, a quick thank you escaping your lips before running off to the bathroom to get changed into it. Your cheeks felt warmer than usual as the shirt hung loosely around your figure, your knees feeling weak as you walked back to help with something the teacher asked of you, trying to push away any lovey dovey thoughts from your brain.

After the event had ended, you went home to finally relax your aching muscles after hours of running around campus. You took a quick shower and eyed the shirt Yuji had given you. It still smelled like him, giving you butterflies but you decide washing it would be best, not really wanting to give him a sweaty t-shirt. A message popped up on your screen; Yuji had texted you, the message making you drop everything to the floor; “Wanna call?”.

taglist: @cookiemunches @slut-for-fictional-men

[teapartyprincess4two]

Big Sister- Sturniolo Triplets

pairings: big sister!reader x littlebrother!triplets

classification: fluff, sibling banter

warnings: none, unless you’re easily triggered then all (lol jk)

summary: Reader is a couple of years older than the triplets, having lived a completely different life to theirs by the age of 25 and is invited onto the Cut The Camera Podcast as a special guest. Reader and triplets retell stories of their childhood and learn more about the readers past.

Big Sister PT.2, PT.3

—

“Alright, good morning campers and welcome back to the Cut The Camera podcast. It’s one of your hosts, Nick Sturniolo,” Nick introduced the video casually before allowing Matt to introduce himself.

“Matt Sturniolo,” Matt introduces himself briefly, offering the camera a small smile before averting his gaze toward Chris.

“I’m Chris,” Chris’ introduction, much like Matt’s, was short, sweet and to the point. He allowed his smile towards the camera to do all the talking as he waited for Nick to redirect the introduction.

“And today we’re here with our beloved older sister, y/n! Y/n, introduce yourself,” Nick’s voice held an undertone of excitement as looked at you expectantly. For a second you felt slightly awkward, but soon realized that you were doing this simply because your younger brothers asked you to, not for anything or anyone else. You let out a shaky breath before introducing yourself, “Hi! I’m y/n, Nick, Matt and Chris’ older sister.”

For some reason you believed that your brothers would put up a facade for the camera and pretend their way through this entire session, but Chris’ response to your introduction quickly burst that bubble, “Yeah he just said that genius, he means tell us about yourself.”

Your face burned slightly from embarrassment, causing all three of them to erupt in a slight fit of laughter before you continued. You were slightly glad that Chris responded to you like that because it was normal sibling banter, it made the rest of the interview type questions seemingly easy to answer.

“I’m nervous okay! I’ve never done anything like this before! I’m just a normal girl from Boston, guys. Not all of us can be big L.A hotshots,” you teased, earning a joking scoff from both Nick and Matt. “Anyways! As I mentioned, my name is y/n, I’m 25 years old…” you paused for a second as you thought of what else to say. “I was born in Boston and lived there for a majority of my life but have since moved to Texas. Oh and um… I work in education.” Once you finished speaking you hummed in approval at your own response before continuing.

“That’s all I’m going to say, I have to leave room for any juicy questions you guys might ask,” you wiggled your eyebrows playfully towards Nick and glanced between him and his laptop. He surely had a plethora of questions prepared for you all stored safely on his laptop. The gesture caused him to laugh and cover his face from cringe.

“NEVER. Do that again,” Nick whisper shouted through his laughter, referring to the cringey gesture you had just thrown his way. Matt and Chris caught sight of it too and laughed at both the gesture and Nick’s reaction to it.

A small smile creeped it’s way onto your face as you shrugged your shoulders before responding, “If I don’t embarrass you guys at least once every time I’m with y’all, I’m failing as an older sister.” They each chuckled at this statement shaking their heads disapprovingly. “We have so many embarrassing stories of y/n, don’t be fooled,” Chris chimed in, giving Matt a knowing look.

You glared at your younger brother as Matt nodded and let out a laugh, all of your shared embarrassing childhood memories flooding his brain. This statement provided Nick with the perfect segway into his first question, “SPEAKING OF EMBARRASSING CHILDHOOD MEMORIES! My first real question for you y/n, what is your earliest memory of us all together?”

“Hmm,” you though for a second, pensively tapping at your chin. As you thought of an answer, searching in the depths of your brain for the earliest childhood memory you had with your brothers, they mimicked your gesture and looked off into the distance. Finally you remembered something and began to answer, “I guess my earliest memory would be-”

Before you could finish your answer you realized the three of them were mimicking you causing you to roll your eyes in feigned annoyance, “you guys are so annoying.” It came out playfully, making them laugh. “I’m going to pretend I’m not being bullied by you gremlins and continue to answer this question,” you shook your head with a chuckle and sat back in the booth, adjusting your microphone so it was closer to you.

“Gremlins? That’s crazy,” Matt chuckled, grinning ear to ear at the hideous nickname you had just given them. You waved him off, already beginning to lose your train of thought.

“Considering I’m only five years older than you guys, my earliest memory isn’t all that magical. I think my earliest memory is from when mom took us to go watch Open Season in theaters and you three wouldn’t stop crying,” you laughed slightly, remembering it like it was yesterday. “Justin and I were so mad cause mom had to leave the theater with you guys and we couldn’t find her once the movie was over. We were legit wandering around with nothing but popcorn and soda to our names.”

Chris burst out laughing at this, struggling to contain himself at the thought of you and Justin wandering around a movie theater like impoverished children. “You’re laughing now, but you’d be scared too if your mom just popped out there clones and left you and your older brother alone in a theater. We started crying thinking mom left us!”

“It’s kind of sad that your earliest memory of us involved you and Justin crying in a movie theater, but it’s also so funny that we’ve been absolutely TERRORIZING you from such an early age,” Nick chimed in, both he and Matt joining Chris in his uncontrollable laughter. You smiled from ear to ear at this comment because it was entirely true, as soon as your mom gave birth to the triplets you were completely outnumbered 4 to 1. For whatever reason, God had decided to send you four brothers and gave them each the same goal; terrorize y/n.

“Was Open Season good though? I never finished it,” Matt asked, unable to stop himself from laughing at the pure ridiculousness of his question. This question sent your brothers into another fit of laughter, earning a swift “shut up” from you.

—

The rest of the interview continued like this, light banter being exchanged between you and your brothers. Soon enough, the atmosphere became more serious as Nick’s questions earned more honest and vulnerable answers out of you.

“Okay, so a lot of our viewers are curious and want to know why you moved to Texas,” Nick asks, scrolling through his laptop as he searches for the question he’s going to ask after this. You don’t answer him verbally, instead raising your left hand and wiggling your ring finger for the camera to see. On it rested a beautiful diamond ring and it shined brightly every time you moved your hand.

Chris and Matt hooted and hollered at the sight of the ring, clapping dramatically. “Impressive I know, I know,” you put your hands up in feigned defeat, causing Nick to roll his eyes dramatically. “Elaborate please. You got these two sounding like literal gorillas right now. Hooting and hollering,” the sassiness in Nick’s voice is all too familiar, only egging the other two on.

“Okay, okay. If the ring didn’t tell you enough, I moved to Texas because I got… drumroll please,” you looked between your three brothers expectantly, waiting for them to begin the drumroll. They quickly began tapping on the table and as the tension built you revealed the answer, “I GOT MARRIED!” You dramatically waved your hands in front of you doing a jazz hands movement. When you revealed the answer, they all clapped dramatically as if you’d accepted some type of award causing you to wipe fake tears from your eyes.

“I know a lot of you are devastated that a beauty like myself is no longer up for grabs, but there are plenty of fish in the sea,” you said, thinking that it would earn a more dramatic reaction from your brothers considering you were hyping yourself up so boldly. Instead you were met with a serious response from Chris as he completely disregarded your last statement, “I still can’t believe you’re married, I can’t imagine being married at 25,” he looked down at his lap, shaking his head silently before continuing. “Shit- I can’t even imagine having a girlfriend at all right now, let alone being married.”

Nick and Matt nodded in agreement, making quiet comments about how scary marriage sounded right now. You understood their perspective, but also took into consideration the vast differences in your lifestyle compared to theirs. “Mmm… yeah it can be scary. I was scared, very scared actually,” you admitted. This earned shocked glances from your brothers.

“Why were you scared? You and Jack seemed so excited when you guys announced it?” Matt questioned, surprise written all over his face because this is the first time he’s hearing of this. “I was about to ask the same thing. You seemed so excited when you told us,” Nick chimed in.

You chuckled lightly at the naivety of their comments, “You can be scared and excited at the same time.” They hummed in unison, encouraging you to continue speaking. You took a deep, nervous breath and rubbed your hands alongside your thighs unsure of how much you were willing to disclose to the internet. Nevertheless you braced yourself and continued.

“Well, I’m sure you guys are aware of the nature of Jack and I’s relationship?” You asked, looking towards your brothers to ensure that they were following where you were going. They nodded eagerly, once again encouraging you to go on.

“Yeah, Jack is Justin’s best friend from school,” Chris mentions with a wave of his hand, it comes out casually and hurriedly as if he’s disregarding it as an important detail to the story. “Okay so you guys might not know all of this because you were younger then. But when Jack and I started dating, we kept it a secret from everyone. Especially Justin.”

Your brothers gasped at this revelation, none of them having known this before. “That’s crazy,” Matt whispered, his eyes opened wide. “Matt shut- shush. It’s getting good. Y/n, continue,” Nick quickly cuts Matt off before he can continue speaking, earning a small chuckle from you as you continue.

“Jack and I started dating when I turned 18, so you guys would’ve been roughly around 13 years old?… Yeah, 13. Anyways, we kept it a secret for 2 long years before Justin found out,” all three of your brothers held shocked looks on their faces. Chris’s mouth was wide open, jaw basically to the floor. Nicks hand was over his mouth, his eyes blown open in shock. And Matt held his face in hands as he shook his head.

“This was a long time ago at this point, so it doesn’t matter anymore, but when Justin found out he was really really mad,” you laughed as you remembered the situation, remembering how he’d told your parents about it and everything as if you weren’t a grown adult who could make your own decisions. “What did he do?” Chris asked, eagerly awaiting the end to this story.

“He told mom and dad, which is so weird considering I was twenty at that point. I didn’t even live at home anymore,” you laughed again. “Anyways, he didn’t speak to me or Jack for a good 6 months after that and I really, really didn’t know if he ever would again. He said he felt hurt and betrayed, which I guess I understand, but we hadn’t done anything wrong, you know?”

“I know I said this already, but that’s actually so crazy,” Matt whispered, his face as close to the microphone as possible. “I agree, I wish I was aware of this then,” Nick said, failing to recall any signs of older sibling rivalry in his memories.

Chris on the other hand, had placed on the pieces together, “Wait! Is that why you didn’t spend that Christmas with us that year?!?” At this revelation, Matt and Nick gasped again as they remembered it clearly. You were absent for Christmas that year, claiming to be too busy with work and school.

“Bingo!” You said.

“Oh wow! No wonder Justin was so distant that year,” Matt recalled, remembering how Justin had disassociated the entire night.

“This is all shocking news to me. But it still doesn’t explain why you were scared to get married. You and Jack didn’t get married until you were 23?” Nick pressed further, trying to squeeze all the juicy details out of this story before you decided you’d had enough and moved on to the next topic. You nodded, recalling the initial question that led you down this rabbit hole.

“Right, right. So, after a while Justin and I talked it out and he and Jack made up. Anyways, when Jack proposed to me I felt like Justin would just get mad all over again and I was scared to lose my brother, you know? I just didn’t want a repeat of what happened the first time,” you admitted, allowing the vulnerability of your words to sink into the atmosphere. You were looking down at your lap, picking relentlessly at your fingernails in an attempt to distract yourself from crying in front of rolling cameras.

Nick clutches his heart at this, whispering an almost inaudible “awe” as he looks at you, his older sister, in a completely different light. Never had he thought you to be so family orientated, so worried as to what your big brother might think of you. For his whole life you’d just been his older sister; the person he looked for when he had boy troubles, when he needed a shoulder to cry on, or when he needed someone to talk to that wasn’t Chris or Matt. He had never stopped to think that you were also someone’s younger sibling, looking for comfort and acceptance in your older brother.

“Anyways, that’s why I was scared AND excited for marriage. Why are you scared?” You asked, looking directly at Chris in an attempt to lighten the air and direct the attention towards someone else.

“My reason is gonna sound so stupid compared to that, bruh. Let’s just not even get into it,” he sighed as he rubbed his temples, still trying to process the complete bomb of information you’d just dropped. This caused you all to laugh, the atmosphere changing drastically to what it had felt like a couple of seconds ago.

—

Nick proceeded to ask you a few further questions before ending the session with a quick outro. You waved at the camera, blowing a quick kiss at it and throwing a wink its way. “Stop that immediately,” Nick laughed, scrunching his face disapprovingly at you. You returned the laugh, getting out from the booth to stretch your back from having been sitting for so long. Matt informed you that the cameras were no longer recording, which actually made you feel extremely relieved.

“I’m hungry,” Chris groaned loudly, also getting up from his seat to stretch before making his way towards Matt. They were soon engrossed in their own conversation. Nick made his way towards you, immediately engulfing you in a hug.

“What is going on right now?” You chuckled, returning the hug and patting his back dramatically. He ignored your attempt at turning this into a goofy encounter, instead hugging you tighter before responding, “Thank you for sharing today. And thank you for being such a good big sister.” His voice came out in a whisper, letting you know that he was being sincere.

“Aw, Nick. I love you, bud.”

PT.2, PT.3

—

AN: I only wrote this simply because every thing I read regarding the triplets that remotely involves a sibling is always YOUNGER sister related. As an older sibling, I simply cannot relate to that, so I wrote this for all the older sisters out there. Anyways, I haven’t written ANYTHING since I was maybe 15 (when I was a fiend for 5sos, One Direction, and any other person who popped up on my screen) so don’t judge this or I will cry. It’s not proofread, it’s just for fun. I will possibly, probably, most likely never write anything ever again because I don’t want to. Okay byeeee

-L.A.M.B💗👼🏻

[chithereader]

stir crazy / aaron hotchner

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

word count: 2k

genre: fluff/angst if you squint

cw: omniscient pov, hotch being vulnerable

“My agent has been asking me for the manuscript but it’s just not ready yet. And I’ve still got my day job that keeps me busy enough,” It’s a quiet day at the BAU. No urgent cases or serial killers, just a few feet worth of case files. Leaning against Reid’s desk, Rossi, Emily and boy genius himself have been talking about the next big David Rossi book.

“Oh c’mon, I see you typing away in your office and writing in that little notebook of yours– which I know is for your drafts by the way,” Emily teases. Rossi shrugs it off with a soft smirk and looks to the boy genius who has been uncharacteristically quiet for the past few minutes. 

“Nothing to say, kid?” lowering his head to catch the young man’s preoccupied eye but Reid’s sight is incredibly glued far away. 

It took Reid a good 6 seconds to realize he’s kid before he shakes himself out of the trance and answers, “Well, considering the hours he’s spent typing on his personal laptop as opposed to the office computer and adding the minutes he allots on the jet to jot down on his writing notebook– assuming he’s writing in a similar format to his previous books–  I’d say….you’re actually well into the third chapter of your manuscript.” 

Still with his eyes trained on whatever caught his attention in the first place, Reid unsurprisingly impresses Rossi again because he is indeed a little over halfway into the third chapter.

But Rossi and Emily instantly become interested with what or who Reid has been staring at for the past minute, noticing that even when going off on his boy-genius tangent, his stare had been focused somewhere else. 

Reid jumps in his seat a little as the two level their heads on either side of his to see where his gaze has been glued. He had been so focused on figuring out the worrying sight and what caused it that he hadn’t noticed how much of him wasn’t aware of his surroundings. 

To their surprise, they’re met with a seemingly everyday sight: Hotch, in the pantry, stirring his coffee. And by everyday, they mean that to any passerby they’d think this is incredibly normal. Nothing at all out of place or out of character. 

But to the trained eye- to profilers who also spend almost everyday with the man, they slowly see what Reid must have seen. 

Hotch is stirring his coffee. But he doesn’t even put sugar or creamer in his always black coffee. 

He’s doing it absentmindedly. Literally looking lost in his head. Hotch is a busy guy, a busy boss guy, with millions of things to think about, but Hotch is never absent. His movements are always purposeful, precise, and calculated. Never lacking and never excess. 

Hotch has his head tilted down and to the side. Like a perpetually confused puppy. One of the things that make Hotch Hotch is his posture. His rigid, firm posture. Back always so straight, hands always clenched, jaw always tight– Hotch is never just there, his presence alone is commanding. 

And worst of all, Hotch’s hair is neat. Too neat. Okay, Hotch’s habit of being neat -with his pressed suits and shined shoes no matter where he is- naturally extends to how he styles his hair. Over the years, he’s learned to gel it out of his face for both convenience and aesthetic. But this neat- this neat looks a little too flat and ruffled at the same time. Like he’s run his hand through it a hundred times in a matter of minutes. 

So Rossi and Emily finally understand. The two share a look of understanding, while Reid looks up at them with curiosity and a little worry. 

“Do you guys think he’s.. okay?” Reid asks quietly with a little grimace. He looks between the two, trying to figure out what they’re thinking, “I mean it has been exactly 12 minutes that he’s been stirring nothing into his coffee.” 

“12?!” If Emily had any sort of drink in her mouth, she surely would have spat it out all over Reid–for which he is silently thankful she doesn’t because as much as he adores Emily, he’s just not mentally prepared for… well that. 

Finally, there’s movement in the pantry. Unaware of his colleagues now watching his every move, Hotch wakes up from the trance he was trapped in and quickly retreats back into his office with his now-cold cup of coffee. 

Knowing that Rossi’s the only one to easily get through to Hotch, Emily and Reid turn to look at him, wordlessly nudging him to check on the poor man who spent 12 minutes stirring his painfully plain black coffee. 

Raising both his hands as he stands from where he was leaning, Rossi surrenders “Alright alright! But I am not telling you rascals what he tells me in confidence.” pointing at the doe-eyed pair. 

Rossi lets the possibilities run through his head as he walks up the stairs to Aaron’s office. Maybe Jack’s having trouble with that one kid again– what’s his name? Or maybe Jack’s having trouble with Mothers’ Day coming up. That’s never been easy. But the stirring and staring into space and the hair? What could possibly– Knock knock. 

Rossi doesn’t even wait to hear Aaron’s voice. He pushes the door open to be greeted with the sight of Aaron finally looking a little more him: writing on his desk knee-deep in case files. 

Aaron looks up for a second and continues writing reports, “What can I help you with, Dave?” Putting extra pressure on penning that last period before closing the case file and grabbing another to open. 

Dave stays quiet for a bit and takes in the sight. Looks fine to me. But his silence halts Aaron’s writing and he looks up to Dave who’s just studying him by the door. 

“You know you can sit right?” Aaron stoically jokes. 

And a joke?! Dave finally cracks and sits down to say, “Boy genius just watched you stir your coffee for 12 minutes which we all know is black. Your hair’s messy and too fixed at the same time, you were standing in the pantry just minutes ago glaring into nothing. And you were slouching with your head tilted to the side.” 

“Honestly whatever it is, it’s none of my business but you just scared two members of your team and I think this may be the seed of doubt in your leadership skills because you’re finally not a robot.” It was obvious that Dave was trying to play it cool, masking concern with humor and sarcasm. 

But Aaron is a painfully private guy. He’d think it over for days before he decides to open up or seek advice from a close friend. Only he has thought about it for days and not saying anything’s been driving him insane he genuinely feels like he could implode at any second. 

Aaron takes one big breath and through clenched teeth he grumbles out, “It’s a she.” Finally staring Dave straight in the eyes, he clarifies, “the it in whatever it is is a she.” 

Realization and more worry hits Dave at the same time which Aaron clearly sees on his face. But Rossi quickly recovers and gives Aaron a soft, comforting smile, “Well what’s so bad about your she that’s got you so shaken up?” 

In Dave’s head, he’s already preparing responses for the worst: 

She doesn’t approve of my job. Well she can suck it. This is who you are. 

Jack doesn’t like her. Aaron, the one thing I like about kids is that they give it to you straight. I think you should take that as a sign

She’s not comfortable with the age gap. She’s way older. She’s way younger. I’m scarred in more ways than one. I’m not sure I still know how to– 

Aaron could see the increasing concern in Dave’s face, “I just–” he started. 

Dave’s thoughts were cut short by Aaron’s voice, thankfully because his mind was starting to reach the point of no return. Anticipating Aaron’s explanation, he leaned forward in his seat trying to read Aaron’s expression. 

“A few months ago, I’d stay here. After a case, when I know my son’s fast asleep and Jessica’s with him- I’d stay here.” Dave kept quiet, intently listening and trying to piece together where this could possibly go. 

“I would choose to stay here and finish reports, make a dent in the never-ending pile of case files because when I’m focused on helping others, I don’t have time to think of how alone I am.”

Before Dave could try and quell this ‘alone’ sentiment, Aaron quickly follows it up “I love my son. And he’s always been more than enough. And I have the team but… you guys have people to come home to. Arms to fall into at the end of a grueling day.” 

“For the longest time, since Haley.. I haven’t allowed myself to feel. To want. And if I’ve just been honest then it’d be known, I want to be loved. All that I carry, I drop all of it at the door and then there’s just this exhaustion that hits me. And all I want is for someone to hold me.” 

Dave takes all of this in, feeling an immense amount of love and sadness for his friend who deserves nothing but happiness but hasn’t for the longest time allowed himself the one thing that can give him that. 

“I know you think that getting into a relationship makes you a bad father, splitting the only time you have left with someone else instead of your son. But the truth is Aaron, Jack’s growing up. He has his sleepovers, camps, and football now. Soon he’ll leave for parties and college, and as much as he adores you he’ll have his own family.”

“I know. And then I’ll be alone.” Aaron’s voice starts to sound rough. Like this fact’s caught in his throat and he can’t speak. Dave studies Aaron and considers all the things he knows are holding Aaron back.

“So give it a shot.” Dave insists. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Just set a date, and show up.” 

Aaron looks at Dave pointedly, “You make it sound easy–” “You make it sound hard.” 

Aaron appears to recover. He smoothes a hand over his tie and straightens his back yet again. In an instant, he’s back to looking stoic and stern with brows furrowed and eyes glaring.

He’s not used to being vulnerable, even in the privacy of his own office. Feeling like an open book for others to read makes goosebumps trail up his spine- in a bad way. Dave quickly reads this and decides to lighten the mood. 

“So…. when will we meet her?” Dave asks smugly. 

“Funny.”

“I understand.. your concerns. But I don’t think you’d be so worried about it if you weren’t already serious about her. So, what’s really going on with her?” 

Aaron thought he could get away without revealing much about her. He’s uncomfortable enough talking about himself, and all the more protective he is when it comes to you. Especially as someone who wants to keep your little world away from the harshness of everything else–

He sighs. He knows Dave is relentless and as payback for his concern, he decides he has to give Dave something. 

“I don’t know. Really. I don’t– I told you one day I’m tiring myself out so I don’t have to come home and process my empty bed as empty..”

“Now I’m tiptoeing in my own kitchen so as to not disturb this crazy singing person washing my dishes while my kid wipes the plates. And I watch them for god knows how long, instead of going up to my office to attend to case files whose deadlines are a bit too close for my liking.” 

“I don’t know,” Aaron shrugs. A soft, weak smile grows on his lips at the memory of you.

Dave stands from the seat, a knowing smirk on his face, “Hmm.” Teasing Aaron as he walks to the door and grabs the handle. 

“I think you’ll be just fine, Aaron. Just fine.” 

[pitchsidestories]

part of me wants forever II Sara Doorsoun x Barça!Reader

masterlist I word count: 1672

a/n: hi, it's inspired by this request here, we hope the time jumps aren't too confusing. Let us know what you thought of the oneshot.

This was how it all begun. You didn’t expect your love story to start on an ice-cold evening in November after your team has played a Champions League group stage game against Eintracht Frankfurt, but it did.

“Sara, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Sara.”, Ingrid introduced you to each other, her eyes were shining as the stars above you in the night sky. Maybe it was written somewhere up there, what would be happening in the following days, weeks and months.

You knew the person you fell for would say that it was fate which brought you two together. But for you it was Ingrid who did.

 “Hi, Sara, nice to meet you.”, you greeted her smiling.

“Nice to meet you too.”, the older defender replied. The brown eyes who wee looking back at you were so beautiful like the person to whom they belonged too, they were something you could get lost into if this wasn’t an away game and you’d have to leave soon to the hotel you were staying at.

“You guys played really well.”, you complimented Sara in an honest tone. It was true, especially in the first half they had a stellar performance, in which Laura Freigang scored the opening goal, but in the second half your team turned it around and you won fairly comfortably with a 3:1.

“Thank you. So did you.. obviously.”, the german player answered with an amused grin on her lips.

“Y/n, we got to hurry up!”, Mapi reminded you impatiently.

“Don’t worry, Mapi. I’m coming.”, you reassured her, trying to shake off her fingers on the hood of your jacket.

“See you soon.”, Sara waved at you.

“I literally can’t wait.”, you told her. Even though you only shared some polite words with each other you had a feeling that this wasn’t the end of your script together.

On the next day your team was on the way home, the bus taking you from the Barcelona airport to the place where your cars have been parked.

 “Y/n?”, Ingrid looked up from her phone to turn her attention towards you who was sitting on the seats opposite of Mapi and her.

“Yes?”, you responded, lifting your gaze from the book you were currently reading.

“Sara messaged me.”, the Norwegian informed you, wearing a mischievous smile on her face.

“You mean Sara as in the cute Frankfurt defender.”, you replied innocently.

“Who else, genius!”, Fridolina laughed, sitting right behind you, she and Ingrid had to play with the player during their times in Wolfsburg.

“Do you know how many Sara’s there are?!”, you asked the Swedish player.

“Yes, but none of them looked at you the way she did. So, what was in Sara’s message, Ingrid?”, Fridolina stated.

Ingrids face split into a wide grin as she read the message on her phone screen: “She asked for her number.“

“You know what? You can give her my number.“, you said in a burst of courage that made Ingrid only smile brighter.

“I’ll.“

“Thank you.“

You watched the Norwegian type on her phone. “You’re welcome.“

Sara had immediately texted you that night. And as the months had passed, texting her became a daily habit for you. From good morning to good night, you shared your free-time with her. You haven’t felt that connected with someone for a long time.

One day you decided to jokingly text her about your shared taste in music, not expecting anything from it.

“Fletcher has a concert in Barcelona. You should come with us, Sara.“

“To a Fletcher concert?“, she wrote back, seemingly unimpressed.

“Yes, Jana got tickets.“, you answered.

You waited impatiently, the three dots appearing as she typed.

“I can’t say no to that.“, appeared on your phone screen.

You smiled happily: “Perfect.“

A few weeks after your text conversation, you found yourself at the concert, singing along while Sara had her arms wrapped around you. It was a casual gesture as you swayed from side to side with the rhythm.

Jana rolled her eyes: “Ugh, stop, you two lovebirds!“

“We’re doing nothing!“, you laughed, full of innocence.

“Literally.“, Sara agreed, continuing to move you with her.

Jana pulled out her phone: “Wait, let me at least take a picture of how annoying you two are.“

She snapped a few photos, a fond smirk on her face. You turned your attention back to the singer. This night was perfect and you wanted to enjoy every moment of it.

The Fletcher concert was something you liked to think back to during your busy football season.

The same was true for the biggest game of the season, the Champions League final. As expected, it was a tight game, Lyon made it hard to get through their defense. Only Aitana and Alexia found a way. So when the final whistle sounded, you were overcome with a mix of relief and happiness.

You hugged your teammates tightly, still processing what you had just achieved when Ingrid tapped you on the shoulder and pointed towards the stands. “Y/n, look who came.“

You only blinked at her for a moment before your gaze finally followed the direction of her hand gesture.

Saras face grinned at you from the stands. The sight of her was enough to make your heart pound in your chest.

You left Ingrid standing and ran over to Sara, stopping right in front of the Frankfurt defender: “Sara, I thought you couldn’t be here?!“

She only flashed you a wry smile: “Change of plans.“

“That’s amazing.”, you muttered, exchanging a short, but soft kiss with your girlfriend.

“You’re welcome.”, Sara smirked at you, as she wrapped her arms around you into a hug.

Mirroring the happiness Laura Feiersinger appeared next to her former Frankfurt teammate:” I almost lost her at the place when they sold the cake.”

“Very typical.”, you giggled, it was no secret that your lover has a sweet tooth.

Nervously Sara put a loose string of hair behind her ear:” That’s not true.”

“Sure.”, the Austrian midfielder smiled amusedly.

“It just looked so delicious.”, the German player defended herself, while a blush crept onto her high cheekbones.

“To be fair it did.”, Laura admitted.

“See?”, Sara responded satisfied.

“Well, I do.”, you tuned into their conversation, before your girlfriend kissed you, to celebrate the Champions League win properly.

Having Sara with you during all the chaos which was going on in the night was very special to you. In the morning you two chose to go on a walk to see a bit of the city. It amazed you to watch your girlfriend being so in peace with herself.

The defender was a warm person and over the weeks you’ve been together she started to share some pieces of herself and her history which you found admirable. Her late coming out, a father who wasn’t saying anything against that, but also didn’t like to talk about it anymore.

The heartbreak Sara felt when the first woman she fell for broke up with her. It impacted her so much that during an important game she scored an own goal. And her questioning if she could ever fall in love like that again? The German player knew the answer now, she was capable of loving again, you showed her how.

Fast forward and it was time to be with your national teams again, you both couldn’t wait for the upcoming free days afterwards which you planned to spend together.

“Sara, we got to talk.”, Lena Oberdorf yelled at the older woman who just sat down with Felicitas Rauch in the dining room of the hotel they were staying at.

“About what?”, Sara frowned who didn’t know her best friend in the team knew what the young midfielder was thinking about.

“I was suspecting you fell in love again, but now Obi found proof of it multiple ones.”, the fellow defender who played in the USA explained with a cheeky smile on her lips.

“What are you talking about?”, the Frankfurt player asked her teammates innocently.

“You and y/n, who football wise is so out of your league.”, Lena replied grinning.

“Beauty wise too.”, Felicitas added in a teasingly tone.

“Excuse me? That’s not what friends are supposed to say.”, Sara protested, her mouth formed to a little pout.

Felicitas smiled apologetically: “Just kidding… but playing wise not. She’s at the best football club in Europe!“

“And she and her team won against you this season. Twice.“, Lena added, rubbing salt into the wound.

“I’m aware of that.“, Sara shrugged unimpressed.

“Just a friendly reminder.“, Lena said.

Sara rolled her eyes: “That doesn’t mean we can’t go out.“

“True. I guess she’s the reason you can’t visit me in the US in your free time?“, Felicitas asked, casually changing the subject.

“That’s not true! You’re always busy!“, Sara protested.

Her best friend raised her eyebrows: “So are you apparently!“

“It’s not because of her. I’m still a football player.“, Sara explained, cringing at the thought of how packed both of their schedules were.

“I know that. So when will you introduce me to her?“, Felicitas continued.

Sara only groaned in response.

In the evening, you were on the phone with Sara as she recounted the details of the talk she had with her teammates.

“So they know about us now?“, you concluded, a smile on your lips.

“Yes, apparently we’re on Ingrids photo dump.“, Sara replied with a laugh.

You shook your head about your Norwegian teammate: “Ingrid might have done that on purpose. Sorry for that.“

“Typical.“, Sara sighed, slight fondness for her former teammate sneaking into her voice.

“She said she had a feeling when she introduced us and I believe her.“

“There’s no way!“

You sucked in your breath in feigned shock: “And I thought you were the romantic!“

“Oh, I am. I just like to think that it was fate.“, Sara replied. You could almost hear the wink through the phone.

Lowering your voice, you whispered: “Me too. I want this to be forever.“

pictures are from pinterest.

[impishjesters]

Comforting a Scared Child Reader

warning(s): Jax, Caine, and Bubble are warning enough... A/N: These turned into less of a direct comfort and more of a how they'd distract them... sorta... though to be fair it wasn't gonna be very detailed given I had to write everyone... I think if I re-did these properly I'd only do a couple of characters to elaborate on. I don't think Bubble was intended, but I included him because of chaos. Needless to say, I think most of them would kinda suck at comforting a scared child, but they'd definitely put on a strong front to try and comfort them. request: Please can you do some seperate prompts of each circus member and ai comforting a scared child reader?

Pomni

She’s not the ideal person to comfort someone but she knows what it’s like to be new and scared—plus when she finds out you’re only a child??

Pomni tries her best, she really does—it’s like seeing you scared and shaking gives her barely just enough courage to step up and comfort you.

She’s not one for touching but if you need a hug while she’s around she’ll likely give you one.

It doesn’t take a genius to know she’s about as shakey and anxious as a chihuahua, but she tries her hardest to come off as calm and normal for your sake.

Pomni gives off anxious first-time big sister vibes.

Jax

Also not an ideal person when it comes to comfort, but he can only imagine how terrified you are right now.

The others are adults and can handle his bullshit, you however are a child and he’s not about to bully a child. As tempting and funny as the thought is.

Jax uses his jokes—on a less insulting, more child-friendly level—to try and calm you down. When he gets you calmed down and the two of you start to get buddy-buddy? Oh, it’s over for those suckers.

It takes the whole gang to try and prevent Jax from turning you into a mini Jax, though he does let you tag along for the more minor kid-friendly jokes and shenanigans.

"Who the fuck leaves a child unsupervised to put on some weird sketchy headset??"

Jax gives off the cool, prankster big brother vibes.

Gangle

She’s just barely holding it together on a good day, but the moment a child shows up scared and crying? Big sister mode activated.

Gangle’s the type to try and calm you down with stuffed animals or art depending on just how young you are. She’s got all sorts of craft stuff and a collection of stuffed animals, she even lets you pick one out to keep for yourself.

While in big sister mode, she’s a little more protective and worrying, trying to keep you from getting hurt by Caine’s little games or away from Jax’s nasty behaviour.

Unlike Pomni, Gangle likes hugs and is always willing to hug you or hold you if you start to miss home or your parents.

Gangle gives off the protective big sister vibes.

Kinger

Surprisingly, Kinger is the best out of all of them when it comes to taking care of a kid. He’s the quickest to get you to stop crying and the quickest to distract you from those scary thoughts. He’s also the first one to ask for your permission before picking you up with ease.

Out of all of them, he’s the one who watches after you the most—sure it’s a joint effort in babysitting you but he’s the one who watches after you the most.

If you’re particularly young he’ll probably carry you around or hold your hand—even if you could technically walk away with his hand, at least he knows where you are.

Similarly to Gangle, he’ll find something you like and either play with you or talk to you about it. God, if you also have an interest in insects like this man then he’ll tell you all sorts of useless facts and stories, all the gross picture books.

Kinger gives off warm, golden retriever dad energy.

Zooble

Not surprising Zooble isn’t great with kids, and not great with touch either. It’s not they can’t carry you but they’ve only really got one good arm to carry you with and it’s just…awkward for them.

That said if they see you fidgeting or picking at some part of yourself in an anxious-like fashion they’ll offer up their left arm for you to fiddle with. It’s a little more sensor-friendly to fiddle with if you exclude the pointy claw bits, they make sure you don’t hurt yourself. It’s not the most pleasant feeling having their limb messed with, so it doesn’t happen too often.

Zooble doesn’t really do much with you, but if you find yourself wanting to sit with them instead of play with the others they won’t protest. On occasion, they might play with you, or read you a book or whatever as long as it doesn’t involve them doing much.

Zooble gives off relaxed, lazy big sibling energy.

Ragatha

Similar to Gangle she gets her shit together when a child shows up, her chipper optimistic shtick comes in handy when it comes to comfort. She hasn’t had to deal with a child in a really long time though—were they always so…loud?

Ragatha’s the second one who watches after you the most, if she had it her way you’d never be around Jax, he’s a bad influence. But if you like playing with him then the most she can do is stay close by and make sure he doesn’t do or say anything badly. (Man’s gonna give her a heart attack)

Similar to Kinger and Gangle, she’ll play with you and let you join in with Caine’s less dangerous games. She’s nervous to play hide and seek with you but if you really wanna play she’ll set an area limit so that you don’t accidentally get hurt.

Ragatha gives off frantic first-time mother energy.

Caine

Doesn’t know the first fuckin thing about children, well he does but he’s never actually interacted with one.

Thank heaven for the censorship, he doesn’t want that foul language anywhere near your young little ears.

Caine’s the worst person to be left alone with you, not that he’ll be bad to you no, he just won’t understand that while he’s trying to keep you entertained and happy it’s probably a huge safety risk. If the shit the adults experience is dangerous god only knows what he might subject you to by accident.

Despite everything, Caine is actually pretty good at getting you to stop crying. It helps when he can quite literally snap his fingers and poof a random toy you might like or something else he thinks is cool.

Caine gives off crazy Uncle vibes that you only get to see during big family get-togethers because he has a habit of causing trouble on accident.

Bubble

For the love of all that is holy. Do. Not. Leave. The. Child. With. Bubble.

I take back what I said about Caine being the worst to leave you with, Bubble is the worst. Well, they both are but still.

While entertaining (and disturbing) to watch Bubble do stupid stuff, everyone will tell you not to do what he does—or say what he does, in fact just pretend he doesn’t exist. He’s a bad role model.

NO. STOP. DON’T EAT THE SOAP. I DON’T CARE THAT HE SAID IT WAS TASTY. HE CAN’T TASTE. YOUR GONNA TAKE THE WORD OF A LITERAL TALKING BUBBLE?

Bubble is that dumb dog that eats its own vomit because it can, that’s his vibe. Don’t be a Bubble.

[just-wrting]

Secret Admirer

Title: Secret Admirer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: You've been trying to figure out who keeps leaving you little notes and gifts. Despite everyone else knowing, you keep denying the obvious answer.

Word Count: 1721

Master List

A/N: This will probably be the only thing I write for Reid. I'm not super into him but when the List Randomizer spat out secret admirer I weirdly thought of him. I plan on trying to write a bunch of different characters from a bunch of different fandoms. Just whoever pops into my head I guess. Two will probably be posted Friday.

You aren’t sure when you noticed it. Maybe it was the fact that your desk was always clean. Maybe it was the little extra things that started to appear. Slowly but surely, you realized you had someone who was leaving you gifts and notes. You had a secret admirer.

Despite your efforts, no one on the team would say anything. For several weeks, you pressed the issue with the other BAU members, yet no one cracked. In fact, you were teased about being unable to figure it out. How could a member of the BAU not figure out their mystery admirer?

“Come on Garcia! I know you know. You have to tell me,” you plead with the tech genius. “You’ve literally been avoiding me. I know you know.”

She lets out a squeak before running to the safety of her lair. Morgan is giving you a smirk and shaking his head. Despite your scowl, he chooses to tease you.

“Come on, (L/N), can’t you figure it out? Who could be this mystery man leaving you gifts and fancy letters?” He laughs as he pokes the latest gift, a small stuffed version of your favorite animal.

“Hey, leave my new son out of this. What did he ever do to you?” you grumble, pulling it closer to you. “I didn’t even realize someone remembered such a little detail.”

“Maybe that means it’s been a long time crush.”

At that moment, Reid sets his bag down and takes a seat at his desk. You think you see Morgan’s grin get wider, but it’s hard to tell given how wide his smile usually is. It’s a picture perfect smile.

“That’s a relatively cute stuffed animal. I’ve actually been reading up on that one recently if you’d like to know more,” he offers. “Only if you’re interested of course.”

Reid gives you his charming boyish smile. It goes well with demeanor and you can’t help but find it cute.

“As long as you’re willing to leave out the creepy facts. I don’t even remember telling anyone my favorite animal,” you say with a smile. “Who would remember such a little detail?”

Morgan chimes back in, “Maybe someone with a perfect memory. Like what the kid has.”

You sigh. “Reid seems to like highly intelligent women with PhDs. I may be smart, but I’m not smart enough.”

Before anyone can protest, Hotch calls you all to the conference room for a case. While you’re sure Reid is nice enough to help whoever has a crush on you, you doubt you’d be his type. Maybe Reid is the perfect person to question about the mystery man.

—-

“Reid, (L/N), you two stay here and look through the papers,” Hotch orders before leaving the precinct.

You frown. What’s the point of having you here? Reid can read faster than you can. It’s almost like you’re just here for moral support in case he gets tired.

“Well now I feel useless,” you groan. “What am I even supposed to do?”

Reid doesn’t look up as he speaks. “Maybe today you’re our mascot. After all, mascots are supposed to be cute.”

You roll your eyes and try not to laugh. “Not all mascots are cute. Recognizable is definitely more important than cute. Besides, am I really that cute?

“I meant to say that compared to Morgan, you’re cute.” Reid buries his head further into the papers.

You ponder for a moment. “Well, you’ve got some charm. Morgan has the charm of he’s good with women so that’s why he gets hit on. Hotch is mature and a leader so that’s why women are into him. You’re cute though. You’ve got this soft sort of shyness that makes you adorable.”

You don’t catch Reid’s reply. His face is completely hidden behind various files. Maybe he’s just embarrassed, given that he’s always been a bit bad with taking compliments. That doesn’t stop you from thinking that it’s adorable.

“Speaking of your charms. I like the fact that you’ve got a good memory. You wouldn’t happen to know who’s got a crush on me, would you?”

He doesn’t look up. “I can pass along a message if you’d like.”

“Well then, I suppose you should tell this guy to ask me out. I can say for certain that if he’s this considerate, that he’s already got my interest.”

“I’ll do that,” he mumbles before handing you a file. “Take a look at this. I think I’ve found what we’ve been missing.”

—-

You peer into the lecture hall. It took some convincing, but you have successfully dragged J.J. to one of Lewis’ classes. You gesture vaguely into the room.

“See! That’s what normal Reid is. Dorky jokes, random facts, and the rambling on for ages is what makes him Reid. That’s not what he’s like around me anymore,” you hiss.

She makes a face and shakes her head. “So you have a different Reid? I don’t think he’s been replaced (L/N). Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard.”

You scoff. “No I’m not. Reid just seems so nervous around me. Did I do something? He barely looks at me anymore.”

With a shrug, she leads you away. “Have you tried asking him?”

You toss your empty coffee cup in a trash can. Part of you wants to throw up your hands and be done. Why is everyone treating this like it’s normal? No one is giving you any answers.

“Of course I have J.J. It would be weirder if I hadn’t. He clearly knows something about this secret admirer of mine, but won’t tell.”

J.J. pats your arm comfortingly. “Maybe it’s because he’s your secret admirer. Perhaps you need to ask him out.”

“Yeah sure. I’ll ask him out once I have the evidence that he’s the person leaving me these gifts.”

J.J. raises her eyebrows as she drinks from her coffee. Her face says she has other thoughts, but she won’t press the matter further. Your gut tells you to trust her, but you’d rather not make a fool of yourself. Sure, she knows Reid better than you do, but Reid can be difficult to read.

—-

After reading the latest note, you search your desk for your stapler. You’ve been stapling the date and time to each note before tucking it in your desk. However, it’s missing.

You let out a groan. This isn’t the first time it’s been in the wrong spot, and you’re sick of it. You opt to beg Garcia to look at the camera footage to see who’s been using it.

“Hey Garcia? Can you please pull up the footage of my desk this morning? Someone’s been using my stapler, and today they stole it,” you grumble with a scowl. “Whoever took it is going to get some very strong words.”

As she speeds through the footage, you watch the people who got there before you. At first, you see Reid pause at your desk and fiddle with something. You note that he’s the only person in the office at the time, but after he pulls away, you see your stapler still on the desk.

The next person to stop at your desk is Morgan. He pulls your stapler off your desk and staples his paperwork together as he heads to Hotch’s office. He never sets it back on your desk.

“Garcia? Can you please get my stapler from that idiot?”

She laughs. “Has he been using your stapler this whole time? He said there wasn’t any more in the supply room.”

You shake your head. “You like him so much, you can retrieve my stolen goods from him.”

Garcia nods. “I’m on it. You can count on me.”

You leave her to her planning. You don’t comment on the fact that Reid had been at your desk. If you ask her about it, she’ll just  leave you alone to go get your stapler. This is enough evidence for you though. It’s time to confront Reid.

Thankfully, he’s made his way to the conference room to look for something. You sneak in behind him and stand between him and the door.

“So, what did you need from my desk this morning?”

You watch him jump and spin around. He looks shocked, but quickly covers it up.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, (L/N).”

You frown. “I found out my stapler was missing. Garcia showed me the footage and before it went missing, you were at my desk. What did you do?”

Reid opens and closes his mouth a few times. He doesn’t look at you. His hands keep fiddling with whatever he’s holding.

“Forget about it, I’m sure there was just some trash leftover that you cleaned up.”

He swallows hard. “Yeah. I didn’t want you to have to worry about it.”

You give him a smile. “Thanks. Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you about something else. The others seem to think I’m just talking myself out of it, but I think I can't put it off any longer.”

You make your way towards him, your smile still plastered on your face. You can tell he’s even more nervous now.

“Reid, are you my secret admirer?”

This time, Reid looks you in the eyes. You hear his breath hitch in his throat.

“What if I am?”

You’re a bit taken aback. Despite the determination you had walking into this, you aren’t sure what to say.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Your voice is a whisper now. It feels like some sort of dream. It’s almost like if you talk too loud, this whole thing will shatter and you’ll be left in pieces.

“I didn’t think you’d like me back. Your type just didn’t seem to include me.”

Reid hesitantly pushes a strand of hair out of your face.

“You’re more my type than you realize.”

“Then do you want to get dinner tonight?”

Now you’re the one who's acting nervous. Your palms are sweaty. It’s more difficult to breathe. You can’t help but bite your lip.

“I’d like that. If you’re willing to get dinner with me.”

Reid leans down, and gives you a quick kiss. It barely lasts a second, but you can feel your skin heat up. When he pulls away, he stays close.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”