#But I feel my coworker's disdain. They do not understand me. If I were to cook my own flesh they would see

[the-muppet-joker]

I am going mad

I want to deep fry my hand

Kentucky Fried Hate

[justanothercmblog]

Why didn't you try?

Summary: Matilda doesn't understand why her dad never seemed to put his family first.

genre: angst

pairing: Spencer Reid & teen!daughter

___

“You never had a problem with staying here after school Tills, it’ll only be for a couple of hours.”, Spencer said as he and his daughter entered the bullpen. Matilda trudged behind him, backpack shouldered and an attitude clearly visible on her face of resentment.

“Sure, always loved spending all of my free time at an office building, the dream," she said sarcastically and headed straight to the roundtable room, bringing distance between her father and her and ignoring the team that were much more than just her father’s coworkers to her.

“What’s up with her?”, Morgan was the first to ask, following his niece with his eyes. Spencer just shrugged, not feeling like getting into his daughter’s teenage attitude hat had only gotten worse towards him since her mom and he had split. They had decided that Matilda would stay with each of them for a week whenever Spencer wasn’t on a case and this was the first week that they had gone through with the arrangement.

Matilda had made it known that she didn’t want to spend time with him, it had broken his heart in a way he had never experienced, but her mother was not having it. As much as the separation had hurt, Spencer was a good dad and she wouldn’t let her daughter shut him out like that. Day two and Spencer was beginning to question if that really was the way to go. Tilly had barely spoken a word to him and had clearly shown her disdain for him and as much as he loved having her with him, he knew that this hurt more than having her be with her mother.  

They had been at the BAU for an hour when all of the team had noticed the obvious tension between their resident genius and his daughter and most of them had been victims to their first BAU kid’s temper and mood. Matilda Reid knew she was being insufferable, but she couldn’t but blame every person in this building for her parent’s separation. Especially her father. His job had finally messed it all up beyond repair. She now started to question if her mom had actually just stayed with him because she had been a kid and used to adore her dad. She scoffed at that. Why did she ever adore the man that was barely present? She was almost sure that he had spent more time with the members of the BAU than with her and her mom and it made her even angrier at them all. 

“Ohhh my favourite person in the whole world is here!”, Garcia’s cheery voice snapped her attention away from her thoughts and onto the colourful woman that was her godmother. Even she couldn’t change her mood though and none of the team members had been able to warn the woman either so Matilda’s attitude came as an even bigger shock. The teen scoffed at the woman and rolled her eyes.

“Please why do you all feel like you can just march in here and annoy the fuck out of me!”, she snapped loudly and Garcia froze at the door, eyes wide. That was it for Spencer. the whole bullpen had heard his daughter snap and swear and he wasn’t having it. Before Garcia could snap out of her shock Spencer had strode up the stairs and come up behind the woman, glaring down at his daughter.

“That’s it, Matilda! Do you hear yourself? Take your teenage attitude out on me but swearing at your godmother? Absolutely not! Phone!”, he boomed and held out his hand expectantly. “What?”, she questioned in shock. “You heard me, hand over your phone, you’re not talking to anyone like that, especially not the people that love you.” She scoffed. “Fuck off I’m not giving you my phone.”

Garcia’s eyes only grew bigger at the language the teen used and the tension in the room. She really didn’t want to be in the room with both of them and witness this first hand but here she was. “What did you just say to me?”, Spencer's voice had gotten dangerously quiet and his daughter got up from her chair and stood up to face him. “I said: FUCK… OFF!”, she snarled and stared into his angry eyes with the equally angry ones of her mom.

Before Spencer could say anything else she grabbed her phone and turned around to leave, though he was faster, snapping out his hand to grab her wrist tightly. “You are not leaving right now!”, he boomed and she flinched as she turned back around, looking up at him with wide eyes and at her wrist in his strong hands. He had never been so loud with her, but then again she had never been so loud with him either.

“Spencer!”, Garcia squeaked and suddenly Morgan appeared behind Matilda in the door she was trying to exit through. “Reid you better let go of her NOW!”, he ordered and it was only then that he noticed how tightly he was gripping his daughter’s wrist. As if it was on fire he let it go and watched his daughter tumble back into Derek’s chest, still staring up at her dad. Before he could say anything more though she backed off of Derek too and turned to rush out of the room and down the stairs, the team and Spencer following her with their eyes. 

It was Emily who jumped up and followed her out, while the rest of them was still frozen in place. “Oh god!”, Spencer snapped out first, clutching his hands in front of his face. “Oh god, I grabbed her… I hurt her! Oh god," he uttered, a wild stare looking after his daughter and tears prickling in his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair messily and then moved to follow her, though Morgan didn’t let him past. “Reid stop.” “I need to apologise! I need to make sure she’s okay! Morgan let me through!” “Emily’s got her! You won’t be much help right now!”, he told him sternly. “I didn’t mean to.. I didn’t mean to grab her that tight! I didn’t… Fuck!”, he exclaimed as he kicked one of the chairs. 

---

“Tilly?”, Emily asked softly as she entered the women’s bathroom of the floor. The room was empty but one cubicle was occupied. The woman could hear soft sniffles coming from it and knew who they stemmed from. “Leave me alone!”, the girl snapped trying to sound self-assured but failing miserably. “I’ll give you a minute but I’m not leaving,” Emily announced and leaned against the wall opposite the cubicle. Nothing was heard apart from the soft sniffles. “Are you hurt?”, Emily asked after a while and Matilda looked down at the wrist her dad had grabbed. It was a little red but didn’t really hurt. “No”, she said. “I’m calling my mom.”, she added and Emily sighed. 

“Don’t you think you and your dad should talk about what’s going on?” “No I don’t, he can go fuck himself.”, the teen snapped and Emily closed her eyes in defeat. “Tilly. What’s really going on here? I don’t even recognise you.” The teen scoffed. “Well, how would you.” “What do you mean?” “As if you guys cared about anything else but your stupid jobs", she said and this time Emily could hear the hurt sifting through the teen’s words. “That’s not true Tills. We all care about you, especially your dad.”

Matilda shook her head and finally opened up the door, looking up at Emily’s worried eyes. “If he cared he wouldn’t have let it come to this,” she said numbly and shook her head before stepping to the sink and washing her face, in an attempt to hide that she had been crying. Emily just stood by her side and watched her. “Matilda. If anyone knows what neglectful parents look like it's me. And I promise you. Your dad is not one. He loves you more than he loves life itself, you know that.”

Matilda didn’t want to hear that. Deep down she knew Emily was right, but she was still hurt. She was hurt and what made it worse was knowing how much her mom was hurt. “He hurt my mom. Badly,” she said and Emily was beginning to understand what this was. “And now you made it your mission to hurt him too?” Matilda stopped and glared at Emily. it sounded dumb when she said it like that and it hadn’t really been her mission, so she thought at least.

“Come on Matilda, you’re smarter than that.”, Emily said as the teen dried her hands. “He hurt me.” “We both know he never meant to. And may I remind you that you said some pretty hurtful things too?”. “And that gives him the right to hurt me physically? Wow great lesson you're teaching me here Emily.” Matilda snapped back and Emily bit down on her lip. “No I didn’t mean it like that. You’re right, no one has the right to touch you like that honey.”, Emily quickly admitted hearing how that had sounded. “

I just meant.. You snapped at Garcia Tilly.” Matilda’s heart sunk to the pit of her stomach thinking back and she looked down at the floor in shame. “Listen. I know life sucks for you right now and you blame your dad. I don’t know what exactly caused your parents to separate but he loves you, Matilda, I think you should talk about this. Tell him how you feel.” “He’s mad at me.” “Come on now, Spencer is probably being eaten alive by guilt right now, you can bet on Derek giving him a piece of his mind too.” “I don’t want to go back out there.” “Just go straight into my office okay? I’ll get your dad and tell him to be calm if he isn’t okay?”

Matilda nodded and Emily wrapped her arms around her, embracing her for a minute. “I know this is all a lot right now but you’ll be fine.”, she whispered into the girl's ears. “Thank you aunt Emmy”, the girl responded and held on tightly to her. “Let’s get you out of here, hm?”, she said encouragingly and wrapped an arm around the girl's side as they left the bathroom and entered the bullpen again.

All of the other’s gazes followed the two of them and Spencer immediately wanted to rush after them, though Morgan held him back again. “Wait for Emily to talk to us.”, he said to him and he watched his friend lead his daughter into her office before coming over to him. “How is she? I need to apologise, what’s going on?”, he bombarded the woman with questions. “She wants to talk to you, but Spencer you better be calm with her, even if she snaps, she’s angry and hurt, okay? Mentally I mean, her wrist is fine, but if I ever catch you being rough with her again, believe me when I tell you that I will snap you in half Reid.”, she told him and he nodded eagerly. “I’d never hurt her! You know that!”  Emily nodded. “Okay, then go make things right with your daughter. She wanted to call Julia but I convinced her to talk to you first.” The mention of his wife made his heart squeeze with hurt. He still loved her, so much, but it wasn’t working out anymore and he knew she deserved better. 

------

a/n: I would love to hear your thoughts!

Part 2

[novashelby]

I think you need to go easy on people having a very natural curiosity and speculating on personal lives. We literally do it in casual, everyday settings (ie office life, school, hobby groups, etc). I understand your disdain and protective attitude towards your muse, but it’s not taking into account that a vast majority of readers on Tumblr have very real mental health challenges—myself included, where spending time lusting and being curious about a wildly attractive and mesmerizing actor and character plays a big role in distraction, dopamine release, curiosity about human behavior, deciphering cues, etc. Even his coworkers are intrigued and nosy about his personal life. While this is no excuse for poor behavior, it may shine light that fighting this urge of gossip is a lot harder than you think when the fan fiction, media and the way human minds work all come together to leave big impressions.

The message is heard loud and clear. Calling it sick and implying it’s some twisted, abnormal, unconscionable behavior is just not in line with reality. Yes, gossip can do real harm, but please try for a softer tone and realize many of the writings produced on here only add fuel to the fire of lust/dreaming/wanting to feel closer to the subject. Your message will be much better accepted.

This was actually meant for @cillmequick, apparently, but I am going to answer it.

Firstly, my overall objective was: we are too invested in their personal lives. Their personal lives should be off limits. We should love and admire their work, but allow them to clock out like everyone else.

Personally, I don't give a fuck about CILLIAN MURPHY. What I mean by that, I don't care about his marriage, I don't care about his work out routine, don't care about his family life, I don't care about what he does in his free time, I don't give a fuck if he got a hair cut, I don't give two flying shits if he got a tattoo. He's allowed to enjoy those things without me up in his ass. I care about him in regards to his work and what he says about his work.

Quite honestly, I could walk out of my house right now and see him, and not spazz out. Why? Because we are all human and share this planet. I'd do a wave, say hi, and allow him to live his life.

People are too much. I'm sorry you found my language harsh, but that is life. Personally, I couldn't write a RPF because it's just too much for me. I love his CHARACTERS. RPF is fine, I get it. People know it's fake. But it's more of just everything else that comes with it; gossip, harmful speculations, slander, degrading, harassing a human. I'm not going to come at someone for enjoying Cillian fics. Do your thing. Just do it respectfully.

What I am annoyed with is people up in business that they don't belong in, and grabbing information and being harmful with it.

And truly, I am sorry if you were hurt by my words. I understand people are going to be nosy...that's just being human. It's more how you do it and what you do with the information you have, sort of thing.

And I'm sorry you are struggling with mental health issues. Though, if you are relying on a celebrity for a daily dopamine hit, I really would suggest finding other outlets. I'm not trying to be rude, I'm being serious. Famous people cannot adhere to your expectations and one day, he may do something you really hate, and then you're left without. They can't and aren't your image of what you want them to be. So, I really suggest finding another outlet; hiking, walking, painting, drawing, journaling, writing, yoga, and so on. Exercise is a really good dopamine boost...even if it's just a little stretching. I say this as someone who struggles with GAD, CTSD, PTSD, Panic Disorder, and depression.

Please take care and I didn't mean to be harmful with my words. I just wish people understood personal space a little more. Have possibly a little more dignity and respect, I guess. Sorry, I may sound all jumbled. I have been sick.

Kisses.

[thehumanrelation]

Daily thought:

why do I miss something I never enjoyed?

It’s been a while but im inclined to write currently, so forgive me for my inconsistency. Also, I am aware that saying “daily thought” is misleading because I don’t post daily, but I don’t want to change the format. Anyway, this topic can be concerning a plethora of things, but right now I want to talk about my job (?). The situation regarding my job is that I’ve been working there for a little over half a year and recently they’ve stoped scheduling me. I am a teenager and I have limited hours of availability due to school, so I only work on the weekends and I understand that’s difficult to deal with. However, I feel that I am owed an explanation of some sort for this but what can I do? Also, the reason for the topic of this post is that I previously had a strong disdain for this job as it’s a high stress environment and im constantly reprimanded for small actions with little to no explanation of why. I love my coworkers, but I feel as if I can’t even enter the establishment because of how I feel currently. I have no idea of the status of my employment and it feels like it shouldn’t be on me to reach out for an explanation. To return to the main topic, I have conflicting feeling about this. I disliked this job and working there drained me in almost every way. It physically and mentally exhausted me despite typically having short shift. I always found myself to be full of dread for the weekend for the sole reason that I had to go to this place. However, the pay was good and my coworkers felt like genuine friends. I suppose this mindset of “why do I even miss some parts of it?” can be attributed to a lot of things, as I stated previously. My memories of being there were not fond and there is no part of it that I miss other than some of the people and the money, yet I feel almost guilty for this entire situation. Realistically, why should I? Why do I feel so strongly about the whole ordeal when it was never meant to be a permanent employment opportunity? I have tried to cope with this unknown feeling through several outlets, but I always end up feeling the same. It weighs on my mind and I still have no idea how to handle it. I’m so lost and everything going on in my life feels like subtle whispers echoing next to me, close enough to where I can make out sounds but not full words. I struggle to conceive ideas and ways to deal with them. I guess I’ll get over it eventually, but I tend to have a strong tendency of holding onto situations and emotions. I’ll log on again soon and write something actually interesting and useful, but this is all I have for now.

[jellochihuahua]

In Defense of Empathy

There's a natural impulse right now to be angry at the voters (and non-voters) who are ultimately responsible for another Trump presidency. I've already seen posts of people jumping feet first in schadenfreude, ready to watch the imminent Face Feast of the Leopards unfold on the foolish and hateful people who decided the price of breakfast was more important than the rights of other human beings. Immigrants who voted to put in office a man who will try to revoke their citizenship because they didn't think a woman could run this country. Millions of people who were taken in by a carnival barker running for the most powerful position in the world. Right now it's very hard not to harbor the utmost vitriol towards these ignorant, naive, and foolish people because it seems very clear what the consequences will be for the rest of us. The time is very likely coming soon that all of these people will be forced to reckon with the consequences of their choice.

When that moment comes, there will be an overwhelming desire to pull out the screenshot of Arthur Fleck and retort that people should get what they deserve. It would be so satisfying to see the despair in their eyes and tell them "this is what you wanted right, why are you mad that you got it?!" And while it would be so satisfying to rub people's noses in the consequences of their actions, it is entirely the wrong thing to do. When people get knocked down, you should try to pick them up. It will be challenging, but I at least will try my best to treat my fellow people with understanding and love. Even as they harm me and my loved ones, I have to hold onto the belief that as our fellow humans they are deserving of the same understanding and concern that all people deserve, regardless of their beliefs. And my hope is that this will be how we turn them into true comrades. If, in that moment when they are laid low, we treat them with disdain and contempt then we will lose them for another generation.

Within leftist and liberal circles there is an open disdain for the uneducated, ignorant and below-average intelligence (of the normal garden variety unintelligence). It's very similar to the conservative contempt towards anyone who is outside their range of "normal" and it is just as toxic. People who below-average in intelligence deserve the same love and basic human respect as people who are below-average in looks, or outside the range of what society has deemed "acceptable" parameters.

I say this not just as an indictment of the "the left" writ large but also as an indictment of my own thoughts. "These idiots have no idea what they've done" I think to myself as my Trump-supporting coworkers gleefully whisper about the good times ahead. I feel contempt for their naivety, I feel hatred for their stupidity. I want to force the knowledge and understanding I have into their minds. I want them to SEE.

But that's arrogance. That's expecting everyone else too see what I see and understand it in the same way. I saw an argument online yesterday where someone compared it to teachers. "Why is the pressure always on the teacher to motivate the students? Why is it always on teachers to convince people to learn, it should be on the students to want to learn." Why don't the kids just fend for themselves? Why don't ignorant people just educate themselves? Why don't the homeless just buy a house? This is the mindset of the privileged failing to understand those who don't share their privilege. And intelligence is largely a privilege, it is something you're born into. It is easy to be informed when staying informed is easy for you. It's easy to see how things interconnect in the world when learning the systems seems obvious. It is easy to stay off the streets when you have a trust.

That's not to say anyone who voted for Trump or decided not to vote is stupid, or ignorant. Some of them are hateful. Some of them are just afraid, or gullible, or apathetic, or frustrated with the status quo. And those things are all things that I think anyone can relate to. They are human failings, and to dehumanize a whole bunch a vast swathe will only turn them back towards MAGA.

If we are to bring normal, working, struggling people into our camp we have to meet them where they are. The reason good teachers take responsibility for motivating students is because they care about them. They love them and they know that the world will be a better place if they are convinced to learn. If they are taught to care, and grow and be curious they will make the world a better place. Think to your favorite teacher (if you had one) and consider why they did a hard job for (in the US at least) not very much money. It's always love. It's always hope. It's always belief that they can make a difference, no matter small in scheme of things. Small differences can add up, they can be everything.

To break the perception that to be a leftist is to be an elitist we must take a page out of MAGAs favorite book that it doesn't read. We must turn the other cheek. Which is always so easy to say, and SO hard to do. Out of all the things in the bible that you're told to do, this is the one that Christians fail at the most. Because it requires so much inner strength, so much self-control. To meet hate with love is a huge ask, but it's what we have to do if we want the world to be better. If we fight hate with more hate, we'll just end up with a more hateful world. We have to strive to see the humanity and pain of those who have enabled our oppressors. We have to see it in our oppressors too.

We can't, of course, roll over and just die. Resistance will be needed. Action will be needed. Hard times and hard work and fear and suffering are coming. But, if we can, we should try to meet the moment with hearts full of love and a desire to understand. If can't embrace those who've been conned by MAGA, where will they turn? If we can't get past our resentments, we will never build a movement to try and turn humanity away from the cliff of our own extinction. We must try to love even those that hate us. In the end, love is the only thing that ever stops hate. And I'm so tired of living in such a hateful world, so I'm going to try again and again to let love and hope be my north star. Maybe that's also naive, but in my dreams there is a world where things are better than they are now, where people are better than they are now. And that world can only exist if it's built on love.

[houseofspiderwebs]

after an interaction w my coworker i've been thinking a lot lately abt how i've been told to "learn to take a joke" a lot in my life. usually with a disdainful/annoyed/otherwise negative tone. and like that's always stung a little and feels frustrating bc like, i'm not fucking doing it on purpose!! i'm not just some stick in the mud asshole that hates fun or whatever. i can take a joke, i joke around all the time. it's just that sometimes i don't always pick up when people are joking and i get confused.

if someone patiently clarifies that they were joking, i'm like "oh okay cool, my bad!" and then i move on.

i just feel constantly misunderstood and like i never quite understand the people around me.

[stormblessed95]

I want to speak about something that's been nagging at me for quite a while:

When people critize f. e. Taekookers theories (just as an example), that could be considered delusional, I so often stumble upon comments like:

You are mentally ill. Go see a doctor.

You are so delulu. You need help.

As someone, who actually suffers from mental illness (like many people probably do here) and did need help and did see a doctor, I kind of feel offended.

We don't know what really pushes people into the realm of delusion/conspiracy theories. It's a complex topic. But you don't need to be mentally ill to believe in conspiracy theories. And you can be mentally ill and not believe in conspiracy theories.

I will always have to deal with my mental illness. Therapy and pills won't ever cure me of that. I will always have to fight my demons. And I give my absolute damn best every day to still be able to live a healthy life, be happy and not hurt myself or other people.

So please, please, please don't trivialize mental illness for a joke or statement about shipping.

This is a hard topic. Because you absolutely are not wrong. I find myself struggling over the past few days trying to figure out what to say here. So sorry it took me a while. I'm still not too sure, but I figured it's past time you deserved an answer.

The comments in your example are often when these things and the words mentally ill, insane, crazy, go see a doctor, etc.... are used in derogatory ways. It's using being mental ill as an insult. And that's really just not okay. But a lot of times, it's often not said as an insult and more dismissive. Which isn't cool, but also, you can't argue or Converse with people who refuse to talk to you. "You're legit insane, you need help." *end of conversation* and honestly, the person saying, literally truly does mean it. They don't mean it necessarily as an insult, but as a you legitimately need help is if this is how you are behaving, especially if these beliefs and behaviors track over into their real life too. A therapist is honestly probably exactly what they need. Actual help.

Like, I won't lie, if I meet a coworker and it comes out that they are tkkr, my faith and trust in them would plummet. I wouldn't take their opinions seriously, I wouldn't trust their logic or their follow through and I would question their decisions. If you behave like that online, I think you need professional help. It's not anything against *you*, it's just that something isn't clicking right for you in the way you are processing things and information and you NEED help. If you are shipping for fun, nah. But if you are one of those people who think the members all hate each other or any of the various conspiracy theories.... you need help. Same thing could be said about flat earthers. It is a seperate thing, and does not have to do with mental illness. And people should be conscious of the words they are using. Such as, I hate people using the word "breed" to describe various subsects of shippers. Its awful. Using mental illness in a derogatory way to insult shippers is the same thing. Not okay. Doesn't mean they don't need help. But it does mean that they aren't worth engaging with at all usually. If a person is determined to see darkness, then darkness is all they will see. The best you can do is try to hand them a flashlight. It's up to them if they want to turn it on or not. But kicking them in the dark doesn't do anything good for them OR for you.

A lot of it will come down to maturity and understanding that there is never any need to put down entire groups of people who have nothing to do with what's happening, because you are pissed (rightfully) at someone who is behaving inappropriately. Or using inappropriate and disdainful language yourself in return when engaging with said person. It's not worth it and never will be. Plus you'll end up hurting many other people who weren't your target instead too. You then lose the high ground you were trying to claim as you act like you are better. (General yous through this whole post btw)

Idk how much sense this made. But I do hear you and understand what you are saying here. The internet is a hard place to be sometimes. Not often friendly and people are all very self centered online at times it seems. 💜 I hope everyone is doing okay. Love you guys. And hopefully your message is one people keep in mind in the future.

[sirenascales]

Hi! Can I request #1 of the smut prompt list with Kyo and reader? 🥺🥺🥺

Coming right up :) also this is one of those moments where i have no idea where any of this came from because im sleepy 😭 but i hope you like it!

kyojuro rengoku x f!reader

cw: smut, modern au i guess, light???? choking LMAO idk

"My dear, please help me with this."

"You are so helpless, Kyojuro," you teased your fiance as you stepped up to him, ignoring his small pout as you went to work on fixing his tie for him. He wore a very simple yet classic black suit, towering over you in all his glory as you gently pat his now done tie against his chest. "There you go."

"Thank you. We should be going soon," he replied as he watched you walk back to your vanity, looking into the mirror to check yourself. You wore a beautiful evening dress, hair done up and makeup set perfect on your face. You were an absolute vision and Kyojuro was starting to drool.

God, he couldn't wait for this stupid work party to be over.

"Well, I'm ready," you said, your heels clacking on the wooden floor as you went to gather your small clutch bag. You felt pretty damn good in your attire, and had never looked so damn sexy. And seeing just how handsome Kyojuro looked in his suit, his bright colored hair pulled back in a neat, low ponytail... you bit your lip, all before cursing at yourself. You just ruined your lipstick!

Kyojuro laughed as you rushed to fix your makeup and it was your turn to pout at him, flipping him the bird which just made him laugh louder.

"Oh, shut up!"

"I'm sorry, my dear. You are just so damn cute," he said sweetly, grabbing his phone when he got a text. "Ah, that was Sanemi... looks like Mitsuri and Obanai managed to drag him to the party as well."

At the mention of Sanemi's name, your face soured considerably and you grunted, setting down your lipstick. "That is absolutely unfortunate."

Kyojuro chuckled. He knew just much you disliked his coworker. "I understand how you feel, love. But please... try not to cause a scene." It wouldn't be your first, especially when it came to Sanemi. "You remember what happened last time...?"

"It's his fault we got banned from the theater!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms over your chest. "But fine! I will try to contain myself. I promise I'll be a good girl."

Kyojuro just smiled and nodded at you, his lips twitching just a bit as your words swam through his pretty head. Did you have any idea how much your words drove him crazy sometimes? Still, he took your hand and led you out of your shared bedroom and then your home.

The party went on through the night without a hitch, and Kyojuro rather enjoyed chatting with some of his coworkers and their spouses. The food was tasty, the music was immaculate, and even the very obvious disdain between you and Sanemi didn't damper a thing.

Kyojuro watched you like a hawk, always keeping you in his line of sight as you mingled with a glass of champagne in your hand. You talked mostly with Tengen's wives, laughing and just having a great time. That was great, he was glad, even though he was dying.

Kyojuro wanted you. So damn bad, it was almost distracting. It was bad enough you were parading around in that dress that made you look so damn delectable, with your hips swaying with each step you took, necklace decorating your neck nicely. When all he wanted to do was to replace that necklace with his own hand, and ruin all that makeup on your face. You did say you'd be a good girl for him, and with the pleasant smile that grew on his face, he decided he would reward you for that.

And that is how you got to where you were now, hours later, in bed with your fiance. As he promised himself, your makeup was ruined, your eye makeup smudged with mascara running down your cheeks as you cried from pleasure. The bedroom was full of nothing but your wanton cries and the wet sound of skin smacking against skin.

"Kyo- Kyojuro!" you cried out as your fiance drove his hips against yours, his hard cock hitting you in all the best places to make you see stars. Your legs were throw over Kyojuro's shoulders, the large man looking like a god above you. He was ravenous, absolutely set on making you go insane with how good he was making you feel. He smiled as he watched you come undone again, feeling your hot walls squeeze around him and his brain going fuzzy.

"Please.. I can't..." you gasped out after another intense orgasm. Kyojuro was a beast, he's made you cum a number of times tonight, and it didn't seem like he was done, oh no. "Kyojuro..."

"You can give me one more, right my dear?" Kyojuro purred at you, his large hands running up and down your body, until one wrapped lightly around your throat, making you gasp, your hands immediately wrapping around his wrist. Though you didn't try to pull him away, not when he gave a light squeeze, or when he started to fuck you again. He smiled at you again, the face of the ever so friendly Kyojuro, even as he brought you to rapture. Because that's what good girls get.

:^)

[thebadgerclan]

The Bigger Man

Pairing: Severus Snape x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: He needs to be the bigger man with Lupin...

You huffed as you shut the door to your rooms behind you, slightly harder than necessary.  “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” you asked your fiance, who had just sat down at his desk.  “I don’t know what you mean,” Severus replied, voice level.  You rolled your eyes, moving to stand before the desk, hands on your hips.  “I mean how you almost revealed Remus’ secret, not to mention how you treat him on a daily basis!”

Severus’ treatment of Remus was horrid, disdainful glances and snide comments.  You understood why Severus acted the way he did, but it in no way excused his actions.  Taunts like, “Out for a little walk in the moonlight?” or “You’re looking a bit wolfish today, Lupin,”, his outward hatred of the man, and the way Severus acted when within 5 feet of the man all showed his dislike for any and all to see.  And disliking someone was one thing; you despised a fair few of your coworkers, but treating them like Severus treated Remus was another.  Even the people you hated, you treated with respect.

Severus scoffed, scratching his quill across the parchment.  “Y/N, you know what that man, if he can even be called that, and his cronies did to me, how they treated me.”  “I do, Severus, and they did the same to me.  But that doesn’t mean you can treat him like scum!”  Severus stood, face pale with anger, but you knew it was not directed at you.  Well, not entirely.  “He is scum, Y/N.  That man made my life living hell for 7 years, you were the only thing that made my life worth living.”

You blushed at the sentiment, but pushed the fond thoughts aside.  You could linger on your love for Severus later.  “That’s beside the point!  I know you hate him, but you don’t have to treat him like shit!”  “You don’t understand, Y/N!” Severus shouted, throwing his hands up.  “He always wins!  Everything always went his way, everything!  And for once, I’m winning.”  You sighed, stepping forward and taking his hands on yours, making Severus look at you.  “Exactly!  You won!  Severus, look at him: two friends dead, one in prison.  He has no one. But look at you, successful, a secure job, and a woman who loves you.  Severus, be the bigger man, you have everything he doesn’t.  You won, Sev.”

Your fiance slowly nodded, realization washing over him.  “You’re right,” he said, shoulders sagging, letting you lead him to sit on the couch.  “Merlin, Y/N, I’m awful.”  “No you’re not,” you countered.  “He treated you like trash, you have every right to hate him.  Severus nodded, pulling you to rest against his side.  He held you close, lips pressed to the crown of your head.  “But love, you can’t keep treating him like that.  Despite how you feel about him, Remus is human too.  You don’t see me cussing out Professor Sinistra every chance I get.”

“You don’t like her?”  You sat up, looking at Severus.  “No, I hate her.  But I treat her with respect anyway.”  He nodded, pulling you back into his side.  “I’ll try, my love.”  “Thank you, Severus.  I love you.”  “I love you too, Y/N.  I can’t say it will be easy, but I will try to be polite to Remus.”  “That’s all I ask, honey.  Be the bigger man, Severus.  Because you are.”  He nodded, kissing your temple and squeezing your shoulders.

[aminiatureworld]

Mannerisms

Characters: Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 935

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: In which the reader speaks and acts much less formally than Zhongli

Author’s Note: Though I am myself young I am still very excited to see the slang in this age poorly, as all good teen speak does.

Put this in headcanon format because I thought it worked best.

Zhongli

Whenever Zhongli introduced you to people there was always that moment of disbelief, the moment their eyes widened and their expressions conveyed “really?” perfectly. Usually that was right after you opened your mouth.

Perhaps it should have bugged you, but really you just found it hilarious.

You generally classified the people you and Zhongli interacted with into three camps: immortal, citizen, and comrade.

The adepti that still retained their ancient respect for Rex Lapis couldn’t understand you or your mannerisms. Every time you cracked a joke or struck a pose that could be only described as bizarre in front of them you could see the light slowly drain from their eyes, their faith in Morax questioned each day.

“Ah, my dearest, I’m so glad to see you.” Zhongli turned away from Cloud Retainer, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

“Hey Zhongli. Oof I had the weirdest day today. I don’t understand what’s up with this one archaeologist, you’d think that she’d be able to find shit herself. Honestly, I don’t fucking know, she says that she’s the trustworthy one but like bitch you’re obviously suspicious. Next time she asks me to find something for her, I think I’m just walking off the nearest cliff.”

“Just be sure to stay safe my love.” Zhongli smiled, oblivious to Cloud Retainer’s barely concealed disdain.

The citizens of Liyue had a similar sort of reaction. They knew Zhongli as the reserved funeral parlor advisor, keeper of history, man known for his calm politesse. In contrast you were known as a bit of a stray bullet, the young adult with the mannerisms of a person on a never-ending sugar high, and with the mouth of a slightly drunk sailor.

“Ah I see that Zhongli’s here.” Lan looked over at your partner.

“Oh yeah! Yo, yo Zhongli!” You hopped up and down slightly, waving your hand wildly as Zhongli approached you, smiling and nodding his head in response to your gestures.

“He’s certainly very put together.” Lan commented. “And very knowledgeable, I wonder if he might know –”

“Oh yeah, you’re still looking for that sword huh? You should definitely ask Zhongli about it. I think he’ll know something about it, and if not welp, I guess you asked right?”

“Yeah.” Lan deadpanned, looking back and forth between you and Zhongli before sighing and turning back to the bulletin.

As for your comrades in arms, friends, coworkers, people who generally liked you, they ranged from understanding to the most confused.

“Why would you ever want to be Zhongli’s partner?” One of your friends once asked. “He seems like such a hardass.”

“Nah, he’s really pretty and his voice is nice, I can totally see it.” Your other friend replied, smirking at you. “Too bad he’s broke, he’s got rich people vibes.”

“I still don’t really see the compatibility, but as long as you’re alright I guess.”

You appreciated that they tried to understand, or that they were wildly enthusiastic.

However though you were certainly very energetic, you didn’t really get a picture of how different you and Zhongli spoke until you put your writing side by side.

Slightly messy, full of made up words and abbreviations, slanting as a result of your weird sitting positions, your writing sat in stark contrast to the tidy formality of Zhongli’s notes and letters.

Hey Zhongli, I gotta go do smthing for the Guild so can you pick up le food? The money’s on the table, since I know you don’t have any lol. Anyways wish me luck I’m gonna need it. See you later, love you!

My dear one, Forgive the late notice, but it appears that we are hosting the funeral of a merchant of no small importance. As of such I will be working later than usual today. There is also the question of disturbances in Jueyen Karst, which I may have to enquire about. I think of you throughout my day, and I cannot wait to be with you again. Ever yours, Zhongli

Most of the time you didn’t really think about the difference in your personalities. I mean, Zhongli was a god. Of course he’d be a little different than you, of course he’d be more formal! Besides, he didn’t seem to mind your way of talking, and you weren’t going to change it any time soon.

Still, sometimes the complete confusion of the people around you chipped at your self-confidence, as you found yourself wondering if you were really a “proper” partner. What if you were just too blasé for the man who had protect Liyue for centuries.

“Hey, Zhongli?”

“Yes my love?”

“Do you think, do you think that I’m not… I don’t know, not good enough? Like, I don’t know how to explain it. Do you think that I’m too silly?”

“Never my love. Your vivacity is something that brings me great joy. Do not worry about what others think, there is no one else for me.”

You had to admit that Zhongli’s lyrical style of speaking made you feel all the more soothed, as if your love was something destined, something that didn’t have to worry about the judgement of others. If Zhongli loved your mannerisms for their energy, then you loved Zhongli’s nature for its soft constancy, its quite solidness.

At the end of the day it was just speaking, just different levels of formality. What did it matter if you two were saying the same things, only in different ways?

Love is love no matter how its spoken. And at the end of the day that’s all that matters.

[meganwritesfanfics]

Fresh Bruises (Josh Lyman x Reader) Part 1

WARNING This story contains mention of domestic abuse

“The speech was amazing Mr. President.” Y/N said as she walked next to her boyfriend her arm linked with his. 

“Thank you Y/N, but the credit really goes to Sam and Toby.” President Bartlett said as the whole entourage made their way through the halls of the hotel. 

“I would sir, but I wouldn’t want them to get a big head.” Y/N laughed.

“You know you two are really made for each other.” CJ laughed as she walked next to Josh. 

Josh smiled as he kissed the side of Y/N’s head. 

For a moment everything seemed to be going fine. The speech had gone amazing, everyone was feeling good about it, people were happy, including Toby. That was until Leo, who had been on the phone turned around to look at everyone, a worried look on his face. 

Quickly Josh turned to look at Y/N. 

“Go, I will stay back here with CJ.” Y/N said as she reached out and straightened his tie. 

“I love you.” Josh said kissing her cheek before he headed up to Leo and the President with Toby and Sam following quickly behind. 

“It’s probably nothing,” CJ tried to soothe even though Y/N knew otherwise. Leo and Josh were very similar in the sense of when something was really wrong, it was pretty easy to tell. “I can’t believe you gave up working in the White House just to date him.” She teased, pointing towards Josh who was having a hard time not glancing back to look at Y/N. 

“I loved working at the White House, don't get me wrong, but I have always wanted to be a family law practitioner. Plus I love Josh and he... “ Y/N started when suddenly she saw a man standing in the hallway to the side. It was a face she hadn’t seen in a long while. 

“Y/N?” CJ asked, looking at her questioningly. “Is everything ok? Do you know him?” 

“He’s an old...friend.” Y/N said with disdain. “I will catch up with you guys.” 

CJ smiled hesitantly before she walked away. 

By the time they had made it outside both Sam and Toby were on the phone. Leo was talking to Bartlet and Josh had finally broken away looking for CJ and Y/N.  Through the crowd he could make out  CJ but he couldn’t see Y/N anywhere. 

“CJ!” He called as he made his way over to her. “Where is Y/N” 

“She saw someone she knew inside and stopped to talk to him.”

“Him?” Josh said a slight bit of jealousy in his voice. 

“Yeah, I recognized him but I couldn’t figure out why, but something felt really off about the whole situation.” CJ started and suddenly a knot formed in Josh’s stomach. 

“CJ, what did he look like.” Josh said as he grabbed onto CJ’s shoulders firmly and in such a way that scared CJ.

“Josh, I don’t know I just saw him for a moment he…” She started when suddenly her focus shifted to behind Josh. “Like him Josh.” She pointed as Josh quickly spun around. The knot in his stomach grew, so much so that Josh felt like he was going to throw up. The man he saw was one he had not seen in two years and one he had hoped he would never see again. 

“You are a giant brat you know that right.” Y/N said storming into Josh Lyman’s office. 

“A brat wow I don’t think I have heard that one since the 3rd grade.” Josh smiled looking up from the report he was reading. 

“You cannot just invite me to go with you to the gala. And you especially cannot ask Donna to ask me.”  Y/N exclaimed however there was no anger in her voice only amusement. 

“Well I couldn’t be expected to trudge my way all the way to your office just to ask you to go to an event you should have been invited to in the first place.” Josh laughed. 

“If you couldn’t be bothered to come to my office then why should I be bothered to go to the gala with you.” Y/N stuck her tongue out at him. 

“Oh don’t act like you are not stoked to be going to the gala. Donna said you haven’t been able to stop talking about wanting to go, so I figured I would help you out.” 

“Oh thanks for the pity ticket.” Y/N said her voice changing slightly as she turned to leave his office. 

“Hey wait.” Josh quickly said as he stood up rushing towards Y/N grabbing her wrist. 

Quickly Y/N instinctively flinched away pulling her sleeve down trying to hide the bruises. 

Josh took a step back, lowering his head slightly. “It was not out of pity.” 

Y/N reached out taking Josh’s hand. “Thank you Josh, but I can’t go with you. I’m with Henry.” 

Josh let go of her hand quickly running it through his hair as he made his way back behind his desk. “No, yeah, I know that. I was just thinking we could go as coworkers, and friends.” 

“I would love that, but I don’t think Henry would see it that way.” There was a silence between the two filled with tension. “I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would love to go with you.” Y/N said looking down. 

“Are you sure, I could always talk to Henry.” 

“No, please don’t do that, if you talk to him, I can’t have you, he won’t…” Y/N said completely flustered. 

“Hey, hey, hey” Josh quickly said rushing towards Y/N but being cautious not to grab her, not wanting to scare her. “It’s ok, I won’t talk to him if you don’t want me to.”  Slowly he placed his hand on her arm. He looked down at her hand seeing the bruise around her wrist that couldn’t be hidden by her shirt. “Y/N. Are you ok? Does Henry…” Josh couldn’t find the words to say just exactly what he was thinking without upsetting her more. 

“Does Henry what?” A voice said causing Y/N to nearly jump out of her skin. 

Both Josh and Y/N quickly turned to see Henry standing in the doorway, arms crossed. 

“Henry!” Y/N gasped jumping back away from Josh. “What are you doing here honey?” 

“Well I came here to see if you wanted to get lunch.” Henry said with almost a growl. 

“I just… Josh was…” Y/N said panicking and Josh could see the fear in her eyes. 

“I had a legal question, Y/N was just helping me out.” Josh quickly said trying to come to her rescue. 

“Ah, I see.” Henry said quickly changing his focus from Y/N to Josh with a wicked glare. “Y/N can I speak with you in your office.” 

“Yeah of course. Josh I will.” Y/N gulped. “I will see you later.” 

Josh knew he should have said something, he knew he should have done everything in his power to stop Y/N from going with him. But he didn’t. He thought they were in the White House for god sakes, Henry wasn’t that stupid. Plus Y/N’s secretary would be outside her office, she would hear if anything was happening. That was what Josh kept telling himself. But he couldn’t focus on anything but wanting to head to her office. 

“Donna!” He finally yelled after about an hour of rereading the same sentence. “Will you call Y/N’s assistant and set up a meeting.” 

“Celia said that Y/N gave her the rest of the day off.” Donna called back immediately, sending a knot into Josh’s stomach as he quickly stood up heading towards Y/N’s office. 

“Josh, Josh where are you going?” He could hear Donna call but he was on a mission. 

“Josh.” Toby quickly said as he walked by Josh, noticing how pale he was. 

“Follow me.” Josh said not even stopping. 

Toby quickly did as he was told, catching up to Josh who was nearly sprinting down the walls of the White House. 

“Josh what is going on, what is wrong?” Toby tried to say but Josh was too focused, too scared about what he was going to find when he got to that office. All that came to a screeching halt when he saw Henry. Josh froze causing Toby to almost collide with him. 

“Josh what are we…” Toby started as Josh threw up a hand to shush him. They watched as the nervous man came out of Y/N’s office, looking around frantically when suddenly he made eye contact with Josh. Instantly Josh knew, he knew what had happened. As Josh took a step forward, Henry took off. Instead of focusing on the man who ran, the two men bolted inside the office. 

As soon as the door opened they could see the destruction. There were papers tossed everywhere, chairs were knocked over, books had been pulled out of the bookcase and were now on the floor. 

“Oh my God.” Toby gasped.

Josh didn’t have words as his eyes suddenly landed on the form of Y/N who was laying on the floor behind her desk. Quickly he ran to her noticing the bruises and the bloody gash on her forehead. “Call someone!” 

Toby left, leaving Josh who had scooped Y/N into his lap as he assessed the damage. Y/N had a busted lip, her nose was bleeding potentially broken and the gash was bleeding through the cloth Josh had ripped from his shirt and placed there. 

“Y/N, wake up ok, I need you to wake up.” Josh pleaded, looking up to see Toby standing in the doorway again. 

Suddenly Y/N woke up gasping as she looked around the room. For a moment she didn’t remember what had happened, that was until she looked into Josh’s eyes. 

“Y/N, are you ok?” Josh quickly asked and Toby ran over to join Josh kneeling next to them. 

“What, oh yeah, I uh… I just fell. I must have hit my head on the desk. I’m so clumsy sometimes I…” Y/N rambled sitting up not looking either of the two men in the eyes. 

“Y/N, stop.” Josh said forcefully, causing her to look him in the eye. 

“I just…” Y/N tried again but tears had started to form in her eyes. She couldn’t do it, she didn’t have an excuse, she didn’t have anything she could hide behind. When she looked at the two men before her, she knew that there was no more hiding it. “Josh.” She cried as she began sobbing. 

“Hey, shhh” Josh said wrapping his arms around her. “It’s ok, he’s not going to get away with it. We are going to call…” 

“No!” Y/N quickly exclaimed grabbed Josh’s arm tightly. “You can’t call the police. You can’t.” 

“Y/N, Henry just beat the living crap out of you. And I take it this isn’t the first time.” Josh said, causing Y/N to look down at her bruised wrists. 

“Josh, you don’t understand he works for the police. He is the police.” Y/N said looking back up at Josh, whose heart broke seeing how damaged she was. 

Josh hesitated for a moment, all he wanted to do was see that son of a bitch burn, but he knew that he couldn’t force Y/N to do anything she didn’t want to. 

“Ok, we won’t call the police but I’m not letting him near you again.” Josh growled protectively holding onto Y/N. 

“Josh, I live with him all of my stuff is at his place I can’t…” Y/N started again but Josh shook his head. 

“You can stay with me until you find another place and Toby and I will go pick up all of your stuff Y/N. You don’t need to be afraid of him anymore. I won’t let him hurt you again I promise.” 

“I don’t want him to hurt you guys.” Y/N cried leaning into Josh more. 

Josh smiled slightly as he gently kissed the side of Y/N’s head. “Don’t worry Y/N we will be careful.”

“Thank you Josh.” Y/N smiled at him as the paramedics came into the room. 

Josh was true to his word, he hadn’t let Henry near Y/N again, at least not alone. He took care of her and let her stay at his place. She never found a new apartment though because it wasn’t long before the two began dating. Y/N had quit working at the White House because she knew it was a conflict of interest to be on the legal counsel for the White House and to be dating a White House Staffer, but more importantly, she really wanted to work in family law. Their life together wasn’t perfect but the two wouldn’t ask for it any other way. And after more than a year and a half of dating Josh knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Y/N. 

That’s what made seeing Henry even more terrifying for Josh. And as he looked at the man and looked into his eyes. Josh saw the same look he had seen two years ago in the White House, but this time Josh looked down to see a knife in Henry’s hands. 

“Y/N!” Josh screamed as he took off running back into the hotel. CJ followed quickly behind him leading Josh back to where she had last seen Y/N. 

Josh felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. As he ran through the halls he prayed to every god he could think of that he would find Y/N and she would be fine. But as CJ stopped in the hallway pointing to where she had last seen Y/N, and as Josh saw a single high heeled shoe, one that matched exactly the kind of shoes Y/N had been wearing he knew that the likelihood of her being ok was slim. 

“Y/N!” Josh screamed again as he ran in the same direction of the shoe. 

At this point Toby and Sam had made there way into the hotel, after informing the secret service that they needed to get the president away, they didn’t know if there was an immediate threat but they knew something was wrong.

“Josh I saw Henry what was he doing here I thought he moved out of D.C.” Toby said as he followed after Josh. 

“I don’t know but he had a…” Josh started when suddenly he looked up to see a bloody handprint on the wall. 

“Oh God.” CJ gasped, her hand instinctively going over her mouth. 

Josh bent forward feeling as though he wanted to throw up. He knew that he needed to keep looking for Y/N, that he needed to find her, but he was so scared, so terrified of what he was going to find that his body wouldn’t move. 

“Josh, Josh we need to keep going.” Sam pleaded with him gently laying his hand on his back. 

Josh nodded straightening back up as he continued down the hall following the bloody handprints and pools of blood that trailed their way down. Toby had made his way a few feet ahead of them and as he turned a corner following the blood he quickly backed up as he turned white. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Josh could barely say his voice cracking so hard the words were barely audible. He quickly ran over to where Toby was looking down the hallway, and when he saw it his knees gave out as he fell to the floor. “No, no, no” He cried as he began to crawl to the body of Y/N who lay unconscious on the floor surrounded by blood. “Y/N” Josh cried as he pulled her into his arms. Her face was beaten and was already starting to bruise and as he looked down trying to assess the damage he saw the source of the bleeding, a giant gash in Y/N's stomach. “Oh god!” He gasped trying to take off his jacket but Toby beat him to it, placing his jacket on Y/N’s stomach applying pressure in an attempt to stop the bleeding. “Baby, please wake up, I need you to wake up. Y/N I love you please.” Josh pleaded as he kissed each bruise on her face, his tears mixing in with the blood. 

“Josh, she has a pulse, but it’s faint we need to get her help.” Sam said. 

“Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine my love.” Josh said as he picked up Y/N walking as fast as he could out of the hotel where he found a slew of secret service waiting. 

“What happened?” 

“Where did the suspect go?” 

The questions came at lighting speed and Josh knew he should answer them but his mind was only focused on the woman in his arms. A woman who he couldn’t imagine living without. 

Toby quickly jumped in answering as many questions as he could as Josh made his way towards the ambulance that was waiting. 

He could hear people talking to him, but his mind couldn’t process what they were saying. All he could do was stare down at Y/N’s face, watching as his tears fell hitting her cheek. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” He cried. 

He felt someone reaching out to grab Y/N and he instinctively pulled away. 

“What is your name,” A voice said and Josh finally looked up to see a kind paramedic looking at him her eyes soft. 

“Josh,” He spoke softly, his voice broken. “Joshua Lyman.” 

“Ok Josh, I need you to let us help her ok. You can stay right by her side but I need you to let us take care of her.”  

Josh hesitated for a moment before he nodded and handed Y/N over to the paramedics, his hands shaking. 

“Good, now tell me about her,” The paramedics continued as the other began to strap wires to Y/N and began bandaging her up. 

“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N she is my girlfriend.” Josh continued his eyes staring at Y/N his breathing getting more and more rapid. 

“We are going to take care of Y/N, don’t worry ok, but I need you to stay calm ok, I think you are going into shock.” The paramedic continued. 

“I just…” 

“Josh!” A voice screamed and he turned to see Toby running up to the ambulance with Sam and CJ following behind. “We will meet you at the hospital, I’m going to call Leo and tell him what happened.” 

Josh just nodded his eyes were wide and everyone could see that he was extremely pale. 

“It’s going to be ok,” Sam said trying his best to be positive about the situation. 

“Alright Josh, we have to get going ok,” The paramedic said. 

Josh nodded again and as the doors began to shut to the ambulance he watched as Toby looked at him, tears in his eyes, as he placed his hands on his heart.

[fandom-monium]

For the Holidays - Part 2

Summary: In which Spencer doesn’t want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “It’ll be nice... having a friend there.”

WC: 1.8k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), insecure and in-denial Spencer, light cursing, (tbh with all the shit that happens in CM they should be cussing way more)

Spencer doesn’t text you. But he’s tried.

First thing he got home, he tossed his bag aside and ripped off his blazer before he threw himself on the couch, digging through his pockets for his phone. Screw reading, taxes, dinner. There are more important things at stake here.

But he’s been sitting there for an hour, glaring at the empty text box with disdain, willing for words to appear.

No such luck.

Spencer writes essays and academic journals in an hour but formulating a simple text? He curses the universe for only making him academically gifted.

He runs a hand through his hair. Maybe he should call? No, you said text. And he doesn’t trust himself enough to have a verbal conversation with you. He will get tongue-tied.

Shit, what does he even say?

It’s not entirely his fault, alright? He’s never been put in a position like this before, except when he goes undercover. And even then everything is planned for him with little contribution on his part⎼he makes small edits to better fit the profiles but that’s about it. All he has to do is scan the file once and in seconds he has his fake identity, his fake backstory, and whatever fake details make up his fake life.

But this. This is different. He has to be brave because it’s you, and he has to chill out because this is supposed to be fake, he reminds himself. Both are tasks within themselves. And yeah, he’s a genius but as Albert Einstein once said, knowledge has its limits.

Shit, his thoughts are so jumbled he can’t even quote properly. This is all your fault.

You.

He still has to text you.

Spencer groans and flops on the couch, the phone clattering to the floor. He doesn’t bother, laying there until there’s an imprint of his butt in the cushions. He stares at the ceiling.

He remembers that you were the one to say yes. He hadn’t directly asked you but you agreed anyway, which means you are willing to spend time with him. Which means you like him (enough). Which means you are friends, and friends help friends out when they are in trouble.

Like needing a fake date.

He rolls onto his stomach, lips pursed as he stares over the edge of the couch. His phone glints in the lamp light.

Just friends helping each other out. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Spencer takes a deep breath and picks up the phone.

He can do this.

⎼

He can’t do this.

“I’m so excited,” Next to Spencer, you nestle into the seat and adjust the fuzzy blanket over your lap, eyes gleaming. “It’ll be nice to see where you grew up.”

Spencer only offers you a tight smile. His eyes dart about as the other passengers settle in, switching seats and fiddling luggage into the overhead compartments. Some of them already requesting for airplane food. Who in their right mind actually wants airplane food?

Spencer really wants to be as excited as you, and he is; he finally gets to spend some time with you outside of work, without the rest of the team hovering (waiting for one of you to make a damn move). It’s almost nice.

If only he can enjoy himself.

His knee bounces nonstop. Against the armrest his fingers tap a rhythm matching the thrum of his heart. And his hair is even more wild having run his hands through it repeatedly before meeting up with you.

He isn’t used to this, being alone with you. Sure, you partner up at work, in cases⎼hell, you've even accompanied each other to a few events. But those were as friends.

Technically, you’re his date. His romantic partner.

Spencer’s never let himself delve deep into his fantasies; he’s imagined (more times than he’d like to admit) taking you on dates to your favorite places, you in his arms, him in your arms⎼you know, minus the imminent danger. All the sweet things that couples do. But they always seemed out of reach. So he’d cut them off, squash the ideas before they went any further. False hope only hurts if you give in.

But now you’re on a plane, rocking in your seat as you hum to yourself, genuinely thrilled at the prospect of seeing his hometown.

This is more than he’s ever imagined. He feels like his heart’s about to burst.

Someone needs to call the bomb squad, real quick.

“Reid.”

"Hm?"

"Are you alright?" You're looking at him, voice drenched in so much concern his stomach twists. He made you worry. He feels guilty.

“Yeah-uh-” He clears his throat, attempting a smile. It’s a sad parody of the real thing. ”I'm fine.“

You raise an eyebrow and scoff, "Okay, I think I know why you're being weird. At least, weirder than usual."

Spencer’s heart drops. He leans back as you lean across your shared armrest, catching the sympathy in your eyes. He stiffens, bracing himself for the rejection. He should have known sooner or later you’d notice his not-so-friendly affections towards you. Of course you did, he isn’t exactly subtle; all the lunches, the museum tours, the stars in his eyes when you wrestle down unsubs⎼

"You’re nervous about seeing your old classmates again."

⎼Or, he’s much better at hiding it than he thought.

Spencer can only watch in awe as you continue, “And it’s totally natural. I mean, I haven’t been to a reunion, but I’d feel weird too if I got to see my classmates after all these years. But have no fear, (Your Name) is here.” You cringe, suddenly abashed. “Unless I’m completely off the mark and now you regret bringing me along. Oh no, that’s it, isn’t? You’re uncomfortable with the whole couples act.”

Spencer shakes his head, and for the first time since take off, he chuckles, “What? No, I’m happy that you’re here. And I couldn't think of anyone better to play my partner.” A relieved smile from you and he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. He fiddles with his sleeve. “But yeah, you got me. I am nervous.”

Which isn’t exactly a lie. You're here, next to him. That's more than enough reason to be.

If he had to be honest, between you and organizing the trip, he almost forgot about the reunion. Then again, he never liked reflecting on his high school years. For obvious reasons.

But your perception is a bucket of ice water over his head. Now he’s wide awake.

You’re doing this because you’re friends. You just want to help.

Friendship never hurt so much.

“I didn’t mention it before, but I’m sure you’re aware I wasn’t exactly the most popular kid in school, being 6 years younger and all,” Spencer swallows the ache. You nod in understanding.

Bright, brown eyes meet yours. He bites his lip. “So, I appreciate you coming with me. It’ll be nice... having a friend there.”

A split second.

Spencer glances away as he says 'friend'. The word leaves such a bittersweet taste he has to hold back a grimace, look anywhere else but you. The word just doesn’t sit right with him.

If he hadn’t looked away, he would have caught the way your smile dropped.

You nearly forgot, though you’re on holiday, this is a mission of sorts. This isn’t about you or how you feel. This is about Spencer. You berate yourself, remembering you're not a teenager anymore; you're a fucking adult and mature adults don't squee at their coworkers.

No matter how cute and adorable they are.

“Of course,” You plaster on a smile and finger the edge of your blanket, unintentionally mirroring him. "Your welcome."

Spencer gives you that white-person smile you love so much. You have to bite back a laugh.

To distract yourself, you pull out your phone and open the Chess app, holding it out to him. "Now, how about that rematch?"

Spencer's face lights up like a Christmas tree.

And as you immerse yourselves into another close match, you feel your confidence grow with every move, chuckling as Reid grumbles about you cheating (you’re not, he’s just a sore loser). You’re an FBI agent, for fuck’s sake. You played spouse and romantic partners for weeks, months. A weekend is nothing.

You can manage playing pretend with a coworker. Just operate like this is any other undercover assignment.

You can pretend you’re in love with Spencer Reid. You can handle it.

You can handle it.

⎼

You can’t handle it.

As one would expect, it’s hard to not fall in love with Spencer Reid. Just as it’s hard not to show it.

It feels like only yesterday the lanky man quite literally stumbled his way into your world and you decided, ‘Him. I will protect him with my life.’ And while you’d totally do that for anyone on the team, with Reid, it hits different.

After you landed in Las Vegas, you had a couple hours to kill before the reunion started, and as the good friend and partner you are, you suggested he show you all the places he frequented when he was little. For research, of course. After all, you’re playing his partner, so the more you know the better.

It’s definitely not because you’re invested in his life. Because that would be unprofessional.

(The way he beamed at you was totally worth it though.)

Then one step in the direction of his favorite eatery and he slipped on a patch of ice. You caught him in time, but the way he looked at you, brown eyes wide and filled with awe, made you feel things you shouldn't feel for a coworker.

It only snowballed from there. Everything about him is just so… endearing.

But you’re at your limit.

Love and affection threatens to spill out of you. Your hands flex in your coat pockets, itching to grab Spencer’s pretty face. Even your chest aches from your heart having swollen twice its size. You feel like you’re about to explode.

This might be the most difficult mission you’ve ever worked.

But this is it, you realize as you stand in front of the closed auditorium doors. This is the final lap. Where everything you’ve practiced really matters. You just have to keep up the charade for a few hours, then you won’t have to struggle to fight back the hearts in your eyes.

Although, your clothes fit tighter than you remember and you’re trembling. Why the fuck are you trembling?

Next to you Spencer eyes the double doors, almost like he’s daunted by them.

Multi-colored lights filter into the dark hallway, silhouettes flickering and shifting from the crack under the door as cheery holiday music faintly streams from behind them, accompanied by shouts and laughter. From his old classmates. Who are most likely making jokes at his expense.

Spencer already wants to go home.

“Ready, Doc?” As if sensing his hesitation, you offer a smile and an arm to him. Your eyes gleam with resolve. It’s more than enough for the both of you.

You can do this.

A deep breath, he slips his arm into yours. “Yep.”

He can do this.

Together, you open the doors.

AN: 2/4?? 

note: don’t expect part 3 to come out as quick. it’ll contain panic/anxiety descriptions and id like to take my time to write it best :))) i hope you enjoyed the last bit of happiness for a while :))))

also i apologize that i havent gotten to all the requests!! the ones posted on my masterlist are the ones currently being dealt with, but i’ll get through them eventually thx for the patience :D

i remember seeing a post ab Hotch x Prentiss and I didn’t get it but watching CM over again 

i get it i so get it. when theyve both gone to each other’s homes? *tears up*

and my hate for seaver has been reinforced :)))))

[secretpeachtea]

Onigiri Miya Tidbits Ch 7

Title: the fox’s den

Genre: gen fic, reader insert

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job. The business has been gaining popularity since its grand opening, and many customers travel from different cities just to have a bite of Miya Osamu’s delicious recipes. You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players during your shifts.

disclaimer: manga spoilers

A/N: Hey y’all! There’s gonna be quite a lot of dialogue in this chapter, but I hope it’s not too boring. I was really excited to write this chapter since Inarizaki is my favorite team :D Hope you enjoy!

Previous///Next

There was always something entrancing about the second half of the year when the green and gray streets transform into a multicolored wonderland as a response to the incoming shift of seasons. You admire the different shades of red, orange, and yellow that litter the ground that you’re walking on as you make your way to work. The only things going through your mind right now are serenity, peace, and-

“‘SAMU, YOU BASTARD!”

At the sudden voice, you almost trip on your own feet in surprise. Once you’re sure you won’t fall flat on your face, you look up and see two familiar twins right outside the front door of Onigiri Miya, clear irritation written on their faces.

“How could you say that?! Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now?” Atsumu yells at his brother while clenching his hands by his sides.

Osamu’s eyebrows are furrowed in distress. “I’m pretty sure I’m the one with common sense here. I’ve done what I can to convince you, but you just won’t listen to me!”

You start to worry now as you continue to watch the two glare at each other from where you’re standing a few feet away. You know it’s best not to interfere, but there’s a part of you that wants to stop them before things get out of hand. It seems like you don’t even have to make a decision as Atsumu’s eyes meet yours. “Hey, sweetheart! Come over here and tell this tasteless scrub that he’s wrong!”

“Who you calling a tasteless scrub, you uneducated swine!” Osamu crosses his arms in disdain but softens his gaze when his eyes land on your approaching figure.

“Hold up. What are you guys even talking about?” You try your best to keep your voice as relaxed as possible but still proceed with caution in case one of them were to blow up again in anger. 

What you didn’t expect, however, were the next few words that came out of the blonde’s mouth. “The best Disney princess is obviously Rapunzel, but ‘Samu doesn’t agree!”

“You just like her ‘cause she’s blonde! Clearly, Belle is the superior princess!” The other twin spits back.

You pause for a moment to process the situation. That’s...not exactly what you expected when you first saw them arguing outside of the shop (and quite loudly too). A deep sigh leaves your lips as the two childish men in front of you continue to banter.

“Oh yeah?!” Atsumu suddenly directs his attention on you and places his hands on your shoulders for emphasis. “Sweetheart, who do you think is the best Disney princess?”

Already feeling an incoming headache, you just say the first thing that pops into your mind in hopes of stopping this madness. “Oh, uh...I don’t know. I think Mulan is pretty badass.”

The twins go silent as they contemplate your response for a brief minute. It seems like you gave a satisfactory answer because they both make eye contact with each other and nod their heads. Their strange twin telepathy is something you’ll never understand. 

No longer having the patience, you just brush off Atsumu’s hands and use your spare key to open up the front entrance of the shop. The two men just follow you inside and the blonde is the first one to break the silence in a much calmer tone than before. “Okay, fair. But, I really do think-!”

Atsumu halts his footsteps as you and Osamu just glance at him confused. The blonde gasps dramatically as he stares at the new additions to the shop’s walls. “HEY! Why do you have their autographs on your wall?!”

Not wanting a part 2 to the previous fiasco, you just head over to the back room to put your belongings away and get yourself ready for work. Securing the cap on your head, you walk out of the room and stroll to your spot on the register. It seems like Atsumu is a lot more fired up than usual because he’s still arguing with his brother. 

It took everything in Osamu to keep his voice at a normal level while responding to Atsumu’s pettiness. “They came over to eat one day and I thought it would look good for the shop.”

“Don’t you know that we’re ultimate rivals?! You can’t be siding with the enemy!”

“They’re your rivals, ‘Tsumu. Everyone’s technically considered a customer to me.”

“Traitor!”

You swear you saw puffs of smoke pop from Osamu’s ears from his frustration. You were about to place a hand on his shoulder in hopes to keep your boss from throwing something at his brother, but a smooth voice interrupted the tension in the room.

“Calm down, Atsumu.”

You and Osamu jumped in surprise, while Atsumu let out a startled yelp at the unexpected guest. The three of you turned toward the front entrance to see who showed up an hour before opening. Although you only heard one voice, three tall figures in casual clothing stand at the doorway. They step inside the building and you vaguely remember seeing their faces in a picture Osamu once showed you from high school.

The person in the middle of the group brushes away a couple strands of his gray hair with black tips while his other hand sits on top of the handle of a small suitcase. The one on the left has a built body with dark skin sporting a kind smile. The one on the right has a lanky body and long fingers that reach up to his face to cover a yawn on his bored expression.

If you remember correctly, Osamu had told you about some of his former teammates and the ones standing in front of you were Kita Shinsuke, Ojiro Aran, and Suna Rintarou.

The twins brighten in recognition and make their way over to the newcomers. “Kita-san! Aran-san!”

“I’m here too, you know.” Suna comments.

All of the guys greet one another in the middle of the room with smiles on their faces. You’re not really sure what to do since you’re the odd one out.

You stand off to the side behind the counter awkwardly, but you are interested in their little group dynamic. The Inarizaki alumni all hold completely different demeanors and postures, but one thing that they all share is that all of them are incomprehensibly attractive in their own way. Why are all of the former and current volleyball players that you’ve met so far like this?

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that you’ve been staring at Kita in particular for a couple minutes. He must have felt your eyes on him because he momentarily looks away from his current conversation to make direct eye contact with you. You let out a small squeak after getting caught staring, but it doesn’t seem like Kita is bothered at all.

“Ah, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to ignore you.” Kita leaves his group to walk over to where you are and this catches the attention of the other four males as well. 

“It’s no problem! I wanted to give you guys room to catch up.” You lift up your hands to wave off his apology and give Kita a bright smile as you speak. “It’s finally nice to meet the oh-so-praiseworthy rice provider for the shop, Kita-san.”

Your reply elicits a soft laugh from the man’s mouth. “Nice to finally meet you too, (Surname)-san.”

“You know my name?” You ask, surprised.

“Aside from looking at your name tag, yes. I’ve heard some things about you from the twins,” Kita answers.

Your cheeks turn a bit pink in embarrassment because you completely forgot that you were wearing your name tag for work. Your embarrassment doesn’t last for long, however, when you quickly realize what Kita had just implied about the twins. You shoot an intimidating look at the two culprits and neither of them meet your gaze. “They talk about me?”

“Only good things. No worries.” Kita tries his best to reassure you that there hasn’t been any slander against you, but you still feel a bit insecure.

Knowing that feeling this way is probably unnecessary, you just resort to a little bit of teasing. “I don’t worry so much about Osamu-san. It’s the other one that needs to be kept in check.”

“Hey!” Atsumu’s head quickly turns to your direction at your very obvious accusation.

Suna snickers while ignoring his friend’s outburst. “She’s a smart one.”

“Hey!”

Aran chuckles in amusement and Osamu just smiles at his brother’s distress. You try to fake exasperation by placing a hand on your cheek and Kita’s smile falters as he catches something from the corner of his eye. The charm bracelet that you received from Osamu is secured to your wrist with the small onigiri charm shining under the fluorescent lights.

 “Oh, so you’re the one…”

You look back at Kita in confusion. “The one what?”

Kita hesitates for a moment before simply shaking his head in dismissal with a knowing grin on his lips. “Ah, it’s nothing.”

You’re bewildered by his mysterious response, but it doesn’t look like he wants to talk about it anymore, so you just brush it off for now. 

As everyone else continues their own conversations, Kita thinks back to a conversation he had a couple months back.

“The rice should be coming in a couple days, Osamu.”

“Sounds good, Kita-san.”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“Actually...I have a quick question.”

“What is it?”

“What would you...um...give to someone who just graduated that’s not so generic or meaningless?”

“...Are you asking for your coworker?”

“Scary! Are you sure you don’t read minds or something, Kita-san?”

“I don’t believe I can. But, to answer your previous question, if you want to give a gift that holds more meaning, I would say buy or make something that’s personal to both of you. It could be from a fond memory you share or a common interest. However, based on the positive things I’ve heard about her, she would probably appreciate anything you give her.”

“Hm…”

Kita is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears Osamu’s voice nearby. “I’ll get you guys the usual, right?”

The rest of the guys all nod their head and Aran makes the motion to take out his wallet. However, before he can do so, Osamu lifts up a hand to stop him. “No worries, Aran-san! All of this is on me!”

Atsumu’s ears perk up. “You’re not gonna make me pay for my food this time, ‘Samu?”

Kita looks towards Osamu and slightly tilts his head in confusion. “You make your brother pay for his food?”

“Always.” Osamu answers without hesitation and with one of the most deadpan expressions you’ve ever witnessed on him.

“I see.” Kita simply nods his head in understanding. “It would be detrimental to your business if you gave things out for free too much.”

Atsumu grabs onto his former captain’s arms in exasperation. “Kita-san!”

A quiet giggle leaves your mouth at the scene in front of you. It seems like the twins are a bit more competitive and bicker more often when their former teammates are involved. Seeing this side of Osamu amuses you since you’re more used to his laidback nature.

Eventually the brief comical moment calms down and Osamu begins to prepare all of the food. Kita and Atsumu seemed to be in their own world, so you decide to try and speak with the other two people in the room that you have yet to be acquainted with.

Suna and Aran seem to have been thinking the same thing because they are already walking up to the counter in your direction. Suna raises his right hand in greeting, while Aran gives you a polite smile before speaking, “You must be (Surname)-san. Apologies for taking so long to greet you.”

“No worries.“ You wave off the apology. “You guys were also teammates with the twins in high school right? The only thing I really know are your names. What were your positions?”

“I was a wing spiker. I’ve actually known the twins since we were in elementary school,” Aran replies.

You clap your hands together in realization. “You guys are childhood friends then! I’m surprised you haven’t come up in my conversations with them more.”

“Those two were always running around all over the place just to compete against each other, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t remember half of the things they experienced in school.”  Aran lets out a deep sigh, but you couldn't detect any real annoyance. 

If the counter wasn’t in the way, you definitely would’ve patted the man on the shoulder. “Well if you’re as patient and calm as you are now with their antics for all those years, then you definitely deserve the appreciation, Ojiro-san.”

“You deserve it just as much since you see at least one of them almost every day now.” Aran sends you another kind smile and you can’t help but mirror it.

Not wanting to leave out Suna from the conversation, you turn your head towards the male who is just listening with his hands shoved into his pockets. “What about you, Suna-san? What was your position?”

“Middle blocker. Although, I did work as a part-time witness to the twins’ stupidity.” The stoic male smirks and looks at you in the eye. “Seems like you’ve taken up that job?”

You burst out laughing. “I can’t really deny that. We should be compensated for all this work.”

Suddenly, you feel a heavy weight on your shoulder that catches you off guard. When you look up, Osamu’s elbow is leaning on your shoulder and there are pieces of rice stuck to his fingertips. He has one of his eyebrows raised in suspicion. “Hey, why do I get the feeling that you guys are talking behind our backs?”

Suna looks directly at Osamu with his usual expression. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Feeling a bit playful, you also answer with the same deadpan tone. “Yeah, we’re just bonding over some relatable stuff.”

Suna takes one of his hands out of his pockets and raises it up next to you. Without hesitation, you give him a high five while holding back your smile. Aran just chuckles at the unexpected tag team between you and his former teammate. 

Before your boss could make any more comments, his phone dings from where it’s sitting on the counter between his work station and the register. Osamu seems briefly conflicted since his hands are covered in rice but quickly comes to a decision. “Hey, (Name)-san. You mind holding up my phone for me? I think it’s a message about a shipment for some ingredients we needed to restock.”

“Yeah, sure!” You pick up the phone and a picture of Onigiri Miya with a large ‘Grand Opening’ sign in front of the entrance illuminates the lock screen. “Oh, you have facial recognition. I’m gonna have to borrow your face for a bit, Osamu-san.”

Osamu leans down as you place the phone in front of him for a couple seconds, but nothing happens. You try to angle the screen differently and wait a little longer, but it’s still not unlocking. Across the counter, Atsumu watches the two of you struggle through a few more attempts before losing his patience. “Just put the phone up to my face. It’ll probably work.”

A bit curious to see if the phone will actually unlock for the other twin, you move your arm to where Atsumu’s waiting. You keep the phone up for a few moments, but there’s still no response.

The blonde just stares at his brother’s phone in disbelief. “What the hell? Why isn’t it working??”

“Wow, even my phone can tell who the uglier brother is.” Yup. Osamu’s definitely feistier today.

“WE LITERALLY HAVE THE SAME FACE.”

The twins look like they’re about to start another round of unnecessary bickering. From the side, Kita sighs at the idea of having to intervene in yet another argument. He opens his mouth to stop the madness, but you beat him to it. You shove Osamu’s phone into his face again and surprisingly it unlocks. “Alright, guys. You can shut up now. I got it to work.”

Both Atsumu and Osamu shut their mouths immediately. They still looked a bit irked at one another, but no longer have the will to fight. Kita stares at you with shock. He’s never seen anyone other than himself dissipate the twins’ bickering so quickly and you haven’t even known them for as long as he has. Even Aran gives up at some point. Perhaps you are a much more important presence than he realized.

Clicking on the message notification, you lift up your arm just enough so that both you and Osamu can look at the screen comfortably. The message consisted of a picture of a shipment with a list of items. The list is barely legible due to the small font, so the two of you have to lean in closer to the screen. 

“The text is so small. Can you read anything?” You ask as you bring the phone closer.

Osamu squints and wipes one of his hands on a clean towel before placing it over your own to steady the phone. “Barely. Why did he send such a terrible picture?”

The close proximity and subtle touches between you and your boss do not go unnoticed. As you’re discussing the contents of the picture, Suna and Aran share a knowing look with each other.

After a couple minutes of trying to decipher everything in the message, you and Osamu have successfully written down a complete list of all the shipment contents on a napkin. Osamu pockets his phone and the napkin before turning to look at you. “Okay, I think everything’s all good. Thanks, (Name)-san.”

“No problem!” You rub your eyes from the slight strain and move back to where you were standing before while Osamu finishes up making the last of the group’s food. Suna and Aran just watch you both go back to whatever you were doing before as if your cheeks weren’t millimeters away from each other a few seconds ago. The two males make eye contact once again, but just shrug their shoulders.

“Food’s ready! Grab your onigiris and drinks. We can sit at the table for a bit.” Osamu announces to his friends. Your boss turns to you briefly as he starts going around the counter. “Wanna join?”

“No, that’s alright. You guys use this time to catch up. I can take care of setting up the shop on my own, so take your time.” You give him a reassuring smile and he returns a grateful one back.

While the guys chatted about their lives, you set up the chairs and checked each of the sauce bottles to make sure none of them were empty. About fifteen minutes went by and you now had a broom propped up against your shoulder after sweeping. On your way back, you pass by the table where everyone is still talking with one another. 

“I am funny! There just wasn’t anyone competent enough to get the joke!” It seems like Atsumu was yet again becoming a victim to the endless teasing of his former teammates because his face is slightly flushed and he’s fidgeting with pent up frustration. In hopes to ease his heated face, Atsumu roughly starts refilling his cup with ice water with a tight grip on the glass.

Suna shakes his head. “I thought it was funnier when you almost passed out from being overheated from the Jackasuke suit.”

“What?!” Atsumu abruptly stands up from his chair and in his haste, he doesn't realize that he had also raised his cup just as quickly causing the water to splash onto the nearest thing which just so happened to be you. “Oh shi-! (Name)-chan!”

The front of your shirt is entirely soaked and water drips down from your face and the tips of your hair. You mentally thank your boss for making the uniforms black. Lucky for you, your pants are completely dry because your apron took all of the damage. Aran, who is the next person closest to you, takes the broom from your possession and hands you a couple napkins to at least dry your face, but it’s definitely not enough to make a dent in your drenched clothes. 

Atsumu frets over you with a look of immense guilt in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, (Name)-chan! I-I didn’t mean to do that!”

“It’s...it’s okay. Just try not to lose your cool so easily next time.” You can’t really say you’re happy about your current predicament, but it wouldn’t do anyone any good if you lash out in anger. The running A/C is much more apparent now that it’s much easier to feel the circulating cold air and you start to shiver a bit.

Osamu catches your attention from the corner of your eye when he stands up from his seat. “You good, (Name)-san? You should probably go put on a jacket or something.”

“I didn’t bring a jacket or any extra clothes with me today.” You sigh at your misfortune at how something like this happens on the one day you don’t have your hoodie with you.

Osamu’s frown deepens at the growing unfortunate circumstances. “Ah, damn. We usually have extra shirts in the back, but I left them at home to wash.” 

You dread at the thought of either working with a wet shirt or having to walk all the way back to your apartment to change while suffering through the chilly breezes. However, the universe must be taking pity on you when you hear another voice join in. 

“(Surname)-san, I have some spare clothes in my suitcase.” Kita pats the suitcase that he had brought into the shop with him. 

You know that the best and most efficient way to get out of your misery is to accept his offer, but you’re still reluctant. “Oh no! It’s okay! I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble for you.”

“I don’t mind. It wouldn’t do you any good to go around with wet clothing. You might catch a cold, especially since the weather is becoming cooler.” Kita immediately brushes off any concerns you may have. He zips open his suitcase and grabs a simple navy sweater from his pile of folded clothes. There’s a slight pause when he holds out the shirt to you before continuing the conversation, “It would mostly cause Osamu to be very distressed.”

There isn’t much room for arguing, so you slowly take the soft sweater from the older male’s arms and nod your head in understanding. “Yeah, I guess he would have to work twice as much if I’m not able to help out.”

Kita blinks at your oblivious rationale. “...right.”

You hear a hint of something in his tone but don’t dwell on it for too long because another blast of cold air hits your body causing you to shiver again. Muttering a quick thanks, you rush to the bathroom to change. After peeling off your uniform shirt and bundling it up with your apron, you wipe off any water that remains on your skin before slipping on the borrowed sweater. It’s much larger and warmer than you thought it would be. After gathering the wet pile of clothes, you head out of the bathroom in your new attire. 

The table that everyone was sitting at is now completely cleared of any food and some of the guys are sitting at the counter while Osamu is washing all of the used dishes. Atsumu’s head is laying on the counter and still has distraught laced into his expression. He immediately stands up to apologize again when he hears you come out of the bathroom, but his words get caught in his throat when he sees you.

Kita’s sweater is definitely too big for your frame. The sweater reaches your mid thigh, but you’ve opted to fashionably tuck the front of it into your pants. The sleeves go past your hands only exposing your fingers and the collar reveals a sliver of your collarbone. The overall fit of the sweater creates an image that can make anyone stop and stare.

Atsumu’s ears redden at the sight in front of him and Osamu is frozen in front of the sink. Even Suna and Aran have briefly halted their conversation to stare silently. The only one who is visibly unaffected is Kita.

Kita decides to walk over to where you are and hands you an empty plastic bag. “You can place your wet clothes into the bag so it doesn’t get anything else wet. You can return the shirt to Osamu and he can give it to me before I head back home.”

“Ah, thanks! I’ll wash it tonight and give it to Osamu tomorrow when I come in for work.” You smile at him gratefully and do as he suggested. During the process, your sleeves roll down uncomfortably and you have to constantly pull at it so that it doesn’t get in the way.

Kita notices the way you are fidgeting and gives you an inquisitive look. “Are the sleeves bothering you?”

“Oh, um...just a bit, but it’s not too bad.” You reply.

The male just pulls the plastic bag away from your hands and puts it off to the side for the time being before holding out his own hands in front of you. “Here, let me help.”

You accept his assistance and hold out one of your arms to him. Kita calmly folds the sleeves to a proper length while you just watch quietly. Once he’s finished with one arm, he gently lifts the other and proceeds to fold the sleeve as well. 

The rest of the guys were just watching silently. The entire scene is almost like it’s from some kind of shoujo anime. Atsumu swears there is even a sparkling background with multiple flowers to match the sweet moment. There’s a strange feeling bubbling inside Osamu’s chest, but he chooses to look away and continue washing the dishes. You and Kita looked really good together.

“Thanks again, Kita-san!” Once Kita finishes up the last sleeve, you smile at him once again. “I guess I was lucky that you decided to visit so suddenly today or I might’ve been in trouble.”

“You’re welcome.” Kita returns the smile. “We were all busy on the twins’ birthday last week, so it’s a good thing we rescheduled to today.”

“What.” You blink once. It takes a few seconds for you to process what the man in front of you had just said, but once it clicks, a wave of shock passes through your body. “What?!”

You scramble over to where Osamu is avoiding your gaze and grab onto his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me your birthday was last week?!”

“Oh uh… it never came up?” A bead of sweat runs down the side of your boss’ face.

Still enraged, you swerve your head towards the blonde twin and point an accusing finger at him. “And you! I would’ve expected you to be all over having the attention!”

Atsumu shrugs his shoulder in an uncharacteristically nonchalant way causing you to drop your arm in confusion. “Meh, I’m not really all that big on birthdays. I thought my brother would’ve told you.”

When you look back at Osamu, his hand is rubbing at his neck sheepishly. “It was your day off and you looked like you weren’t feeling well the day before, so I thought it’d be best if you rested.”

You’re not sure if you should feel touched that he noticed that you weren’t feeling so great last week or upset that he didn’t think to tell you about such a special day. Your boss has also been pretty busy lately due to work, so there is a part of you that is understanding of the situation. There isn’t really anything you can do about it now since it’s already too late, so you just sigh in defeat.

Kita decides to intervene before you get even more upset. “No worries, (Surname)-san. There’s always a next year for birthdays. If you wanted to spend time with him, I’m sure just asking will suffice.”

“Indeed. Osamu would definitely not mind making time for you, (Surname)-san.” Aran adds.

Atsumu seems to be feeling a bit left out and chimes in, “Wait, but what about me? It was my birthday too.”

“It’s not like Osamu knows how to do anything but play volleyball and work. Might as well take him out somewhere nice.” Suna mentions while ignoring Atsumu’s outburst for the nth time today.

“Woah, guys!” Osamu’s face flushes a bit from the teasing. You laugh at the group's antics and feel your frustration melt away.

Suddenly, a phone alarm goes off and Kita pulls out his phone to shut it off. “Well, we should get going now. We wouldn’t want to be in the way of your business, Osamu. We’ll see you tonight with the rest of our former teammates.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys later.” Osamu replies with a wave of his hand.

“I have to get to practice too, so I’ll walk out with all of you.” Atsumu walks towards the exit with his hands folded behind his head. Aran and Suna get up from their seats to get ready to go as well. The two say their goodbyes to both you and Osamu before stepping outside to catch up with Atsumu.

Kita is the last one out, but before he closes the door he gives you one last glance. “It was nice to meet you, (Surname)-san.”

“You too, Kita-san!” Your lips curve upwards at being able to have met yet another kind person at work. Kita finally closes the door and now it’s just you and Osamu left in the shop. After having such an eventful morning, the peace and quiet is pretty refreshing.

Osamu looks at you from the corner of his eye thoughtfully. His gaze then shifts down to where his former captain’s sweater rests on your figure and he feels a twinge of irritation but keeps his expression neutral. “Are you sure you don’t want to go home and change? You live pretty close by too.”

You think for a moment but eventually shake your head. “Hm...no it’s fine. I wouldn’t want to miss work just to change into another shirt. I think my extra uniform needs to be washed anyway. Is there something wrong?”

“...no.”

“Jealous that I talked to your friends more than you?”

“N-no!”

A giggle escapes your lips when you hear your boss stutter. “You know you’re my favorite onigiri chef, right?”

“I’m the only onigiri chef you know.” Osamu points out and you giggle even louder. The male can’t even be upset because your laughs are quite contagious. Although, he does make a mental note to bring one of his own sweaters to keep at the shop from now on.

Leftovers

The Miya household is a simple two bed apartment with a decent view of the suburbs around the area. Both Miya twins are considered residents of the complex, but Atsumu usually stays in the dorm available for MSBY players. Today, both twins are in the apartment.

“‘Samu, I swear this shirt makes me look fat-...?” Atsumu barges into his brother’s room without knocking but cuts off his words when he sees his brother intensely staring at a pile of hoodies scattered on his bed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to figure out which hoodie I wanna keep at the shop.” Osamu responds distractedly.

Atsumu stares at him incredulously. “What? Just pick whatever. It’s not like you don’t go to work every day. Why does it matter? ”

Osamu pauses for a moment. “...for emergencies.”

“Whatever, man. I’m heading out to go buy some new volleyball shoes with Shoyo-kun.” The blonde shrugs off his brother’s strange behavior and chooses to just walk away since he needed to leave soon. He momentarily looks out the window and notices some dark clouds filling up the sky. “And, I’m taking your umbrella!”

Osamu doesn’t hear what Atsumu says and barely registers the slam of the front door because he’s too deep in thought. What was your favorite color again?

A/N:  Ouch. I realized that if you were to actually follow the haikyuu timeline, some of this wouldn’t actually make sense. BUT I don’t care :D Also, not me indulging on some Kita action cause I am whipped for this man (but not as much as Osamu hehe)

taglist: @kiyoo-omi​ @tris-does-stuff​ @livshotel​

[radabadabing-bing]

Ruling Me

You ever get an idea, and then you realize how good that idea is? I dunno what overcame me, but I remembered an idea I had way back when I started the blog. Didn’t have a single thing written for it, but I sat down and crunched it out in like two or three sessions. However, couldn’t think of a title, so just slapped on a slightly fitting mediocre one haha

Anyways, that particular idea was that Michalis rubbed Niles the wrong way, and honestly you should know what comes next if you are following this blog. It also let me write dialogue for this which I love to do, I’m pretty pleased overrall with how it turned out. Enjoy!

Niles and Michalis were a little less than acquaintances. They were often deployed at the same time, sure, but to imply they were anything more than occasional coworkers was...generous. Neither had a personality that would particularly jell with the other, nor backgrounds that befitted such a thing. It was more or less a strict work relationship. So why Niles felt a need to approach him on that particular day was something of a mystery. Maybe it was just the convenience of the location they had passed by.

Niles had begun with a particularly tame conversation starter, especially by his standards. He had been loitering in a hall as Michalis passed by. “Well well, King Michalis himself. Nice to see you about-”

“Speak when spoken to, cur.” Michalis didn’t even let him finish, before turning to him with a disgusted look. He glared at the archer with a rather unwarranted disdain.

Somewhat flabbergasted, Niles could only say back- “Excuse me?”

“Did I stutter?” Michalis hissed. “I have no need to talk to you. I can barely tolerate your presence on the battlefield. Know your place.” He pointed a gloved finger at Niles, malice exuding from his continued grimace. “I can’t stand the sight of you. Begone.”

When Niles continued to sit where he had been at the first place, surprise still evident on his face, Michalis took his leave first. Storming down the hall, in his dark cloak. Niles was no stranger to such angers, but usually it took him actually doing something first. Sure, there were some haughty nobles in Nohr who would likely see him in the exact same light, but he wasn’t fighting alongside those nobles. Surely he was warranted a chance, a modicum of respect?

And that got under Niles skin. Just a bit. 

Now there were perhaps less extreme methods of annoying Michalis he could’ve gotten to, such as planting himself in hallways that the King of Macedon would certainly pass through. Not to mention, Michalis couldn’t exactly just attack Niles outright- The Summoner would have something to say about that. But just annoying Michalis also seemed a tad...Too gradual. After all, he had delved into verbal assault quite quickly. So maybe Niles could also jump to an extreme as well.

It had been three days since that incident. Michalis was walking alone as always. His face stern, like he had a good reason to be grumpy in an empty hallway. Though he would soon not be so alone, as someone grabbed his long red hair. He whipped around to see who it was, only spotting Niles’s face for a moment- Until an odd scent and sensation overcame him. It all went dark.

He awoke in a much different location. Brief sunlight was all that illuminated the room, as Michalis’s eyes darted around. They quickly settled on a particularly smug man, leaning against the wall. “Good, you're awake. Glad to know I didn’t overdo it.”

Michalis wasn’t even about to waste breath on Niles, until he realized that he was bound to a chair. He grunted as he pulled against the ropes binding his hands together, scuffing the chair across the floor a few inches, trying to free himself. Finally, he snarled. “Scoundrel. Release me at once!”

“Oh? And why should I do that?” Niles said back. “I don’t go out of my way to tie you up just so I can let you go. Besides, it’s not like you had anywhere to be fast, considering you spend most of your time brooding alone. We have time to chat.”

Michalis futilely struggled more. “So what do you want? To kill me?”

“No, not at all. I couldn’t get away with that, trust me. Besides, you are far too entertaining to simply kill.” Niles shook his head. “I just want to...how to put it...Knock you down a peg.”

“Humiliate me? Are you just going to leave me here...to waste away, left with you as my only mercy?” Michalis hated that idea. Left to rot in a shady backroom until this...lowly rogue...came to give him food and water.

“Decent guess, but also no. I’m moreso interested in your words...You couldn’t ‘stand’ to see me, right?” The smug look on his face seemed to grow ever more smug, much to the annoyance of Michalis.

“So what?! Are you going to break my legs? Paralyze me?! Stop toying with me! Get to the point!”

Niles decided to humor Michalis. “Yes, yes, fine. Look up.”

Michalis did, finding that there was some sort of jury rigged contraption above him, and also sitting behind him. Barrels, a tube cascading down...What was it?

“I don’t understand.”

“I figured you wouldn’t. I was inspired by a similar machine, made for filling troughs. A time saving machine for farmers, though I’ve made it a bit more...direct. As funny as the image of you eating out of a trough is, I’m rather impatient.” Niles went over, and grabbed the tube.

“What are you even prattling on about-” Michalis was silenced by the tube being shoved in his mouth. “Mmpf!”

“I told you, it was direct.” The proud King tried spitting out the tube, trying to uselessly speak as he did so. Meanwhile, Niles turned a valve, opening the barrels. A brightly colored liquid descended. “I’ll be honest, this stuff wasn’t cheap to get a hold of. So don’t waste it, okay?”

As the liquid got closer, Michalis tried harder and harder to spit out the tube- He wasn’t sure what the hell that stuff was, but he certainly didn’t want it in his body. Though it was for naught. Soon the substance was filling his mouth. It was sickly sweet in taste, nearly overpowering. He could feel it dribbling down his chin as he tried to keep himself from swallowing it, before giving in. 

He took a deep gulp of the liquid, feeling it sink to his stomach. He looked to Niles again, looking down at him with his sly grin. Michalis grunted in resistance as Niles ruffled his hair. “See? It’s not that bad. Now, I do have other things to do, so I’ll come back soon to make sure you’re doing well.” And like that, Niles slipped out of the room, leaving the feeding King alone.

Michalis grunted more, struggled more, even after Niles left. He wasn’t sure what this substance was, only that it was...honestly really good. The taste was amazing. Still, Michalis’s prideful mind forced him to keep trying to resist. Not to mention, his stomach would fill up and, and he’d vomit at some point...right?

His stomach certainly felt full. It gurgled and grumbled, feeling bloated. He looked down, surprised to see it actually bulging decently outwards. And further outwards. His regal wear and belt felt tight against it. It...was just bloated, right? Michalis’s angered glare soon softened into one of worry.

His stomach gurgled again, louder this time. He could see his belly begin to push over the belt, like it wasn’t stuffed full, but rather filling out with soft fat. As Michalis took another gulp, he swore he could feel his pants and armor filling out. Fabric and metal joints growing taut. Niles words...Couldn’t stand to see him. Things began to click in Michalis’s head.

He struggled against his restraints once more, but it was still pointless. Not to mention, he couldn’t even start trying to spit out the tube. Not because it was difficult, though that was certainly true, no, it was just too good to do so. And with each gulp, his clothes became tighter, straining further to contain his growing form. Uncomfortably tight, actually.

The first victim of his now burgeoning body was the belt. The sound of leather creaking, cracking, snapping apart. The metal buckle shot across the room, clattering on the floor. Michalis’s belly promptly flopped out, pale flesh laying upon his lap. Whatever muscular frame he had before had given away to his currently chubby one. He let out muffled groans as the seams on the sides of his pants split, more pudge spilling out. The chair slightly creaked under him.

His struggling had ended now, as he was starting to willingly drink the substance. His pride was beginning to lose out, as he slowly got lost in the taste. Unconsciously, he began to suckle at the tube- He wanted- No, he needed more. He wasn’t even watching as his clothes began bursting and tearing all over. How his pecs had turned into blubbery tits. His ass spilling over the sides of the chair, his thighs not far behind, as his pants tore further and further. His gurgling gut grew larger by the second, filling with the concoction, immediately turning it into more blubber to pack on.

His shirt was practically tearing down the middle, as his cravat became shreds. His thick neck and second chin wouldn’t fit it. Buttons popping, metal bits and bobs pinging off onto the floor. The chair’s groaning got louder as he surpassed the weight it was meant for. Truthfully, he had likely surpassed that weight far before the chair had begun to give out. 

Before the chair came apart, however, the restraints holding back Michalis’s fatty arms snapped apart. It was only rope, and the growth had managed to pull it far enough. If Michalis was still as bitter as he was the few minutes before, he would’ve certainly pulled the tube out. But that was long gone to this Michalis, who reached for the tube not to pull it out, but to demand even more. Though his arms were a tad too inefficiently large to reach it by now.

A snapping sound briefly brought Michalis back to some of his senses, as he fell to the floor with a slam. He looked down at himself, realizing his freedom- Though ‘freedom’ was a meaningless term when one couldn’t move. An anger welled up in his mind towards Niles- That vicious ne’er do well who was responsible for all this. How dare he do this to the King of Macedon!

But then, another thought- This was incredibly enjoyable. Ugh, how the thought of growing even larger brought him elation. And if he was King, he certainly deserved such a luxury! The thoughts of Niles began to fade once more as he returned to his guzzling, spreading further and further on the floor.

The only clothes that hadn’t ripped completely to shreds was his cloak, which covered very little of his body. The rest was coated in thick fat, spreading further into the room. More and more he encroached upon the room, his frame nearly immobile.

Though soon his growth came to a halt. He suckled the last drops of the potion from the tube. And Michalis definitely tried to get as much as he could out of it, and relaxing his head back. The tube was promptly spat out, a much easier feat now that it wasn’t feeding him the delicious nectar. Another rumble from his stomach, and Michalis let out a belch.

He was likely over six hundred pounds at this point, if not heavier. He sat on his titanic ass, under ripped fabrics and crushed wood. His gut similarly sat flat on the floor, two large rolls encompassing it. His man boobs laid upon it, plump and full. A chunky neck, a few additional chins, an all around chubby face. His long red hair and reforming scowl would be one of the few hints that this man was Michalis. 

The sunlight flitting through the thin cracks had turned to the orange shine of twilight. Michalis felt...dissatisfied. With? He wasn’t absolutely sure. Perhaps dissatisfied he was now immobile. That he was unable to flaunt his new form, away in this dank room. Or was it the fact he couldn’t reach down and pleasure himself? Or maybe it was the lack of that liquid elation, and how his form grew ever more expansive…

He had no time to consider that. There were noises. Footsteps. Michalis stood to attention- Well, his head did at least, focused on the sole entrance and exit. The rest of his body nudged and jiggled slightly.

“Is someone here? I heard a-”

Before the massive king stood Corrin, another not quite acquaintance. In more standard circumstances, Michalis would’ve been more neutral on his presence versus Niles. But now? Michalis face once again grimaced, though made less intimidating by his jowls and pillow like cheeks. Fists clenched as he looked down upon the young prince, who looked upon him, shocked at the transformation his teammate had undergone.

“Bring me Niles,” He huffed out. 

“N-Niles? Why do you-”

“Because,” Michalis didn’t feel like he had time for this. “I need more.”

[cant-think-of-anything]

Can I ask for Raphael finding out he's aroace? And maybe telling the warlock squad?

Rapheal could hear his younger brothers clamoring for their mother's attention from outside of his room. He didn't mind. It was a nightly ritual that he'd grown used to.

What he hasn't expected was for his mother to knock on his door. He watched as she opened it and slipped inside, the smile on her face melting some of his worry.

"Is anything wrong?"

"Should something go wrong for me to see my son?"

He shook his head, drawing his legs up on the mattress.

She sighed, sitting on the other side of the mattress. Would you be this kind, he thought, if you knew what I had been turned into? It had been a few weeks since Magnus had turn him in, and he wasn't a fool, he knew his mother would be able to sense some sort of difference. He'd always been somewhat of a distant child but now he rarely spoke at all.

"I know you aren't quite the same as when you left," she began softly. "But I hope with time you'll heal. From what I hear you have a lot of it."

Her smile was sad and the words twisted a fist around Raphael's chest. "I don't want to think about that now."

"That's all right, I had figured. I just- I hope you know that you can still have happiness. You can still have friends, you can still have us... You can still have find love if you choose." Before Raphael could start to say something, she interjected. "Or if you don't choose. Whatever will make you happy."

"I know."

---

"I can't believe this is the place that they named the New York Sanctuary," Ragnor muttered, throwing a disdainful look around the room.

"It is sort of...gloomy," Catarina muttered, flicking a dust bunny off of the table.

"They've never cared much for our accomodations have they."

"Obviously," Raphael sighed, glancing longingly at the clock. "They're Shadowhunters. Which is why we usually don't associate with them."

"Wars tend to disrupt what 'usually' happens." Tessa sighed.

"They never listen to us anyway. We tell them what to do and they don't listen, and it'll happen again now, and I'll feel no remorse because they could've listened and didn't."

Magnus waved his hand, "do any of you ever have positive, nice things to say?"

"No." Rapheal and Ragnor responded in unison.

"What about the vampire clan?" Catarina interjected, exchanging an exasperated smile with Tessa. "I've heard Lily Chen became your second in command? Are you two friends? Anything more?"

Rapheal shook his head again, grip on the table tightening slightly. "Lily and I are coworkers. And I'm not interested in her. I'm not interested in anyone." He paused for a moment, making up his mind. If his heart could still beat he thought it would be pounding now. "I'm aromatic. And asexual."

None of them lookes confused, thankfully, their expressions were varying levels of understanding and pride. Magnus gave him a smile mixed with concern that he waved off. Because really, he didn't need concern, he was fine. It had felt like a small relief to finally say the words. The topics changed, but his worries felt slightly lightened, even if it was only for a moment.

[inkandpen22]

Beautiful Angel of Darkness (7/?)

Pairing: Spike x Female!Reader 

Warnings: Mild swearing 

Word Count: 1.8k

Part Summary: Y/N is starting to improve and live by Angel’s lifestyle. Then, someone pays her a visit. 

Masterlist

Six months later... 

Who would've thought working at the law firm as one of Angel's team members would be so fulfilling? Granted, it took a moment to get settled... more like a month. There was a withdrawal period, not pretty. Angel sort of locked me away in his basement for a few weeks. After that, I bounced right back and started fresh! Now, I'm Angel's assistant, much better than Harmony. I gave her the boot as soon as I got released from the basement cell. 

I step off the elevator to Wolfman & Hart with Angel's usual blood bag in a cup and my iced coffee. I drink my blood bag on the way here. 

I set everything down at my desk in front of the firm's sign. The normalcy of having a daily routine again is nice. When I was with Spike, I thought normalcy would bore me to death. I guess Angel was right, there is some humanity left in me. 

I knock on Angel's office door, blood cup in hand. When he announces for me to enter, I greet him warmly and immediately get into the day's agenda. 

"Morning Boss, we have a busy day ahead of us!" 

As per usual, he wears a crossed expression as he stands behind his desk shuffling through some papers. 

He sighs in frustration, "Y/N, have you seen the-" 

I place his mock coffee cup in his hand so I can grab the case file from under my arm. He glances between me and the file in amazement. 

"You left it on my desk when you were leaving last night," I explain with a light chuckle. 

"You're a lifesaver," he thanks as he eases down in his chair. 

"It's what I'm here for," I shrug and lean against his desk beside him. 

"Sorry for keeping you here late this week. I'm sure you much rather be home," he apologizes as he reviews the contents of the case. "I just... I don't know how to go about this." 

"Maybe a fresh pair of eyes?" I suggest, reaching for the file. 

Angel hesitates to hand it over. He doesn't like me working directly on cases. He believes I'm not ready for the gruesomeness of them and that the blood may trigger me to regress.

"Angel, I'll be fine!" I assure him confidently. 

Reluctantly, he hands over the papers and I begin to skim the crime scene photographs.  The police are involved, believing it to be a violent murder. However, Angel and the others are pinning it with a series of animal attacks the last few days. They suspect a werewolf. Angel wasn't wrong, these images are rather unsettling, but nothing I can't handle. 

"Based on the slashes on the neck, I would agree with you and say it's not cut wounds. There are no signs of forced entry either," I analyze. 

"But all of the damage..." He debates. 

"It's from the attack. If you were being attacked by a werewolf, you'd toss a lamp and vase at it, wouldn't you?" I reason. "The front door is in perfect condition, except for the blood, of course. I suspect the victim knew their attacker," I determine and hand the file back to Angel. 

He leans back in his chair, deep in thought. Humming, he considers my predictions. "That would certainly narrow down the suspect list." 

"Was she single?" I question. 

He frowns in confusion, "I think so, why?" 

"Check her calendar, see who her latest date was with," I suggest as I rise from my leaning position against his desk. 

"You got all of that from looking at one photo?" Angel remarks in astonishment. 

I glance over my shoulder as I head toward the door. "Told you shouldn't let me help sooner," I wink. 

_____________________________________

At noon sharp, Angel likes his second cup of O Neg. It sounds tedious, knowing exactly when my boss likes his blood. If someone told me months ago that I would be fetching Angel everything he needs, I would've killed them. Ironically, I've never felt never more human than when I'm at Wolfman & Hart. I feel like I have a life of my own, my existence. Before...Before Spike, I belonged to my family. Then, I belonged to Spike. Now, I belong to myself. Granted, Angel watches me like a hawk, but he's easing up. 

Angel and the others hold a team meeting at the same time I'm supposed to deliver his refreshment. More and more lately, Angel lets me sit in on the meeting.  It's usually so that I can act as a scribe while they talk, but I still appreciate the invite. 

Carrying my files, notepad, and Angel's drink, I back into his office door as I'm handless at the moment. Right when the door gives, I immediately announce his dinner plans with a major banker to discuss his Greed Demon issue. "Don't forget tonight, the meeting with Stuart Lawrence! You have to be at his residence in Brentwood at seven o'clock sharp and-" 

I stop dead in my tracks as my eyes flicker toward Angel's desk. Instead of just seeing Angel stressing over some papers, as usual, I see a bleach blonde vampire reading over his shoulder. 

The paper coffee cup falls from my hand and spills on the floor by my feet. The substance coats my left heel, staining it crimson. 

"Y/N..." Spike utters my name with his smooth accent. 

"Oh my God..." I whisper breathlessly in awe. 

Angel flies up from his chair and points to the door. "Y/N, get out of here!" 

"Never took you for the lawyer type," Spike smirks mischievously as he slithers toward me. "Gotta admit though, loving the working woman style." He gestures at my body up and down like I'm a mannequin in a store. 

Behind me, the other members of Angel's team enter for their meeting. 

"Lorne, take Y/N home!" Angel instructs. 

"Right away, Boss," Lorne complies.

"Take one step closer to her green goblin and I'll bite your head off!" Spike threatens sharply. 

"Spike, stop it!" Angel barks. 

"Oh come on, Angel," Spike dismisses as he closes in on me. His fingers comb through the ends of my hair. "It isn't like you to ruin a perfectly good reunion!" 

My body tenses under his touch, much to Spike's dismay. It wasn't long ago that his embrace was the only thing that kept me tied down to Earth. Now, it makes me shutter. 

"You shouldn't be here!" Angel growls as he rushes over to us and yanks Spike away from me. "She's been doing great without you!" 

"Have you forgotten? She was mine before she was yours," Spike chuckles wickedly. 

The English vampire turns to me again and caresses my cheek. His eyes continue to linger in my memories late at night staring at me intensely. 

"Did you really think I was going to let you go?" He mumbles to me and the words make my heartache. 

"Get away from her!" Angel hisses warningly, on the verge of throwing Spike through the top floor window.

Spike ignores Angel and continues to admire me. "Did you miss me, My Love?" 

Yes. 

I shake my head while I slip my hand over his to remove it from my cheek. "You hurt me. I can never forgive you for what you did." 

Spike's face falters immensely. "Y/N... Let me explain! I-" 

"No!" I stand my ground, something I never used to do when we were together. "You deceived me, used me, broke me!" I switch my gaze between Spike and Angel frantically until I find myself overwhelmed. "I... I can't do this... I'm sorry Angel, excuse me." 

Thus, I hurry out the door past my coworkers before anyone can stop me. Both Angel and Spike call for me, but I ignore each of them as I gather my things and disappear onto the elevator. 

________________________

After today's cluster of events, a long shower was much needed. I have no doubt Angel will be visiting me once the workday is over, just to check-in. I can't believe Spike is here in Los Angeles. It all felt like a dream or perhaps a nightmare. How dare he come here after half a year and expect me to act as though nothing happened. 

Immediately after my shower, I go to my kitchen to fix myself a cup of tea. I stick the kettle on the stovetop before I get dressed. At first, living alone startled me, but since then I've grown to prefer it. I like the peace. After long days at the office, time alone and space alone is what I need. 

"Y/N," a voice makes itself known. 

My hand flies up to my chest as I pant. "Spike! Jesus and Mary! What the actual fuck?!" 

"A vampire scared of the dark... how ironic," he teases with a smirk. 

"Get out!" I shout, pointing toward the door. "I'm not even dressed you feen!" I start to march back to my bedroom which makes Spike follow. What part of 'get out' doesn't he understand? 

"Oh come on, Love. It's not like I haven't seen anything before," he insinuates. 

"Get out!" I repeat. 

"No, not until you hear what I have to say!" He insists. 

"You love Buffy! Congrats! Now, go be with her!" I urge him away. 

Abruptly, Spike grabs my forearm and yanks me to a halt. His free hand flies up to my chin and forces me to meet him in the eye. I fight him off, prying at his arms, but nothing works. 

"I never loved her!" He barks at me. "Well... maybe a little once... but that was before I met you! That night I didn't cheat on you! I swear it! I went over to her house to kill her and when I got there she was crying! Her mother has been ill! That's why I couldn't come sooner... plus I... I..." 

"You what?" I growl in disdain. 

"I got a soul for you," he remarks calmly, nearly solemnly. 

I frown, how is that possible? 

"You what?" I question. 

"I went to the desert, got my soul back so I could be like Angel..." He explains. "To be like someone you'd want to be with," he adds. 

He softens his grip on my face. To my surprise, I don't pull away. I stare into his blue eyes with astonishment. How could he get back his soul? Is that why it took him so long to come and find me? For months I wondered if he would ever come... but he never did. When I finally started to get settled and moved on he shows up. Spike's hand falls from my face with a sigh.  

"Forget this. Never mind," he starts to back away. "Have a good life, Y/N." 

I stand frozen, speechless, and unsure what to do as Spike struts away toward the door. Thus again, he has disappeared from my life. 

________________

Masterlist 

Tags:  @currently-obsesed-with-spike @mx-pibbles @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard