#apart from the fact he loves the guy with the huge rack

[lugagl]

reading the epilogues,, currently thoughts under cut. spoilers for the homestuck epilogues/homestuck as a whole, duh.

urhh,, im thinkin i love the epilogues (theyre so bad theyre good in my heart.. theyre so insanely bad that my brains like "omg,, wow! its hot garbage!" but then again im only on page two so it may go all downhill)

also, minor epilouge spoiler i thought was funny as hell bellow vv

and then soon after dave comes out the woodworks with the most out of pocket bullshit dude wtff im sobbing

waaa i'll try and live blog more once i get home, im at school rn so yeah. when i get home i'll try and live blog the shit out of this.

[101maverick]

Hi! Saw your newest post, so thought I might as well try to help with your writers block :)

How about headcanons of the bat boys dating a broke reader? Alternatively, batboys x bimbo!reader?

Hope this helps you get out of your slump, enjoy the rest of your day and take your time if you ain't up for it :]

A/n: Tysm for the request! Hope you enjoy :)

Dick Grayson

Being resident in Bludhaven, he's financially independent and certainly not rich. He refuses to depend on Bruce.

This means he hasn't got any trust fund money to give you, but he'd definitely help you out any way he can

He'd buy you practical gifts as well as normal ones whenever he's got the chance, and if you're living together the way you divide the living costs would definitely be proportional to your spending power

Dick isn't rich but he's not broke either: the average annual salary for cops in the us is roughly $66.000, but he owns the two-bedroom apartment you live in so the only thing you guys need to pay is taxes and bills, no rent to worry about. You're also not at home for most of the day, seeing as he works as a cop and you have your own job that takes up a good chunk of your day, so the electricity bill isn't very high.

I personally think Reader would not enjoy not having to pay for anything seeing as the money comes out of Dick's own pocket, so she'd at the very least insist on paying for groceries and helping out more in the house with laundry, dishes, cleaning et cetera, to even out the responsibilities as much as possible

He'd support you as much as possible if you're getting a degree, he'd be like your own personal cheerleader, and after you get it he'd organise this huge surprise graduation party for you and then help you get a job in the field of your degree

like if you became a lawyer he'd hook you up with some judges/attorneys he knows aren't corrupt and get you a job in their law firm (paid intern of course, after having worked so hard you want to make it yourself in the world)

I think you two would have tons of fun at the thrift! You wouldn't feel bad about him insisting to spend his money, and you would have the best time just perusing the racks and laughing at all the insane stuff you find plus trying on some genuinely nice clothes

One thing he splurges on though is making sure you have a state-of-the-art home gym, in fact that is why he buys your building's basement and equips it with every work-out machine under the sun plus a trapeze and equipment to practice a ton of other dynamic sports of the sort

————————————

Jason Todd

He's a crime lord so it's safe to say this dude is filthy rich

He obviously doesn't show it though and apart from having a lot of it as an emergency fund for when he needs to defend himself in gang wars I believe he anonymously donates the rest to charities

I go with the canon of Jason being catholic so I believe he gives to the Church, but it could obviously be something else like one of the many Wayne foundations (cause as much as he holds a grudge against his father he knows he's obviously not corrupt and actually helps people)

apart from this he definitely still has a lot of money

He'd refuse to see you struggle financially

He's been through that, he knows how awful it is and does not hear no for an answer when he goes to hand you insane amounts of cash

If you live together then he makes sure to get a nice apartment in the respectable parts of town, blending in with the rest of the neighbourhood to make sure the location is safe and as untraceable as possible

He handles everything and refuses to even let you pay for groceries, insisting that you concentrate on your studies and not worry about having to sustain yourself

To him you guys being a team means that you hold each other up any way you can, and you already support him immensely just by being by his side and loving him, so to him this is just doing his part and supporting you (on top of loving you like crazy of course)

One thing he'd do is make sure your house has enough space to host an insane amount of books though

On this topic I think he'd absolutely spoil you with book hauls, just taking you to every book store you can find and buying piles and piles of books

I'm talking those beautiful gold-leaf covered editions of centuries-old classics, and it doesn't matter if you already have the stories per-se in your library cause it's the edition that matters in this case, ya know?

Like sometimes you want to feel regal and distinguished reading the gold-lined hardcover Commedia, sometimes you want to feel quirky with your penguin edition Jane Eyre, other times you just want to embrace your inner sewer rat and read Macbeth from the shitty mass-produced paperbacks and Jason acknowledges and embraces it

————————————

Tim Drake

Tim, like Jason, is also filthy rich, in virtue of being the owner of Drake Industries and the representative C.E.O. for Bruce at Wayne Enterprises

You'd both live in his Nest, and given the horrendous amount of electricity it consumes it's all already paid for by his company so no need to worry about that

He would only accept "payment" for everything he does for you in the form of you making sure he goes to sleep at decent amounts of time when he's elbow-deep in a case (and tons of love, obviously)

Like Jason, he'd just hands you wads of cash

EXCEPT! He does it for the most mundane stuff. Timothy Jackson Drake is a nepo baby, no way around that. Sure, while he spent his time stalking Batman and Robin through the rougher parts of Gotham he learnt street-safety 101, but he always carried anything he needed for those nightly strolls in his backpack, and he never really learned the real value of money. "$2.70 for a small bottle of water? Sounds reasonable!" is his thought process to this day.

You two would often have these moments of 'culture shock', with Tim slowly discovering how much things should cost every time you two go out to run errands together and you discovering about the insane things the rich buy and do just because Tim decided to recount some childhood stories/told you about some stuff socialites did ad a gala

Since I think Tim's love language is quality time I think he'd take you on these absurd trips whenever possible, that to you are to absurd places but to him it's a very normal trip because "my parents always went there twice a year? It's an extremely normal vacation spot?" Meanwhile it's the Maldives or a private island in Greece or something

This being Tim you also HAVE to have a state-of-the-art phone, with tons of features you will never need to use since you're a civilian but it makes him more at ease, knowing that if the need arises you have the ability to disarm a bomb with the click of a button on your display

————————————

Damian Wayne-Al Ghul

Oh he'd absolutely refuse to have you living anywhere but a castle

It'd take convincing for him to have you living in anything less than a penthouse in the diamond district

He's not against the idea of you working, but he doesn't think that it's necessary for you to slave away at a minimum-wage job while you could be spending all your time in luxury while studying for your degree

After you get your degree he'd help you find a job at one of the most important places for your specialisation, pulling the needed strings just to make sure your resume isn't overlooked (nothing more, he's of the idea that his partner should be strong, plus he believes you to be extremely capable and so thinks that pulling strings to get you the job would be a disservice and an offence to you)

Absolutely spoils you with gifts, and by that I mean: clothes, jewellery, if you like cars he'll buy you a carpark, anything you look at for more than two seconds he'll buy

Damian's way of showing love is through gestures, so you rejecting his gifts would hurt him and he'd take it to mean that you are rejecting him/are unsatisfied with him

Like with Tim, you both would have "Culture shocks" over stuff like the worth of money, lifestyle and stuff like that

Because Damian is basically a royal (or at the very least was raised like one, I don't know what's happened to the LoA in current canon) I think he'd lowkey try to get you an armed guard for when you need to go out as a sign of love lol

"Damian I've been feeling watched while going out as of late" "Don't worry Beloved, that's just the armed guard" "Oh ok-I'm sorry what?!"

Things like anniversaries, birthdays and big events are celebrated in the most lavish settings but in a private way still, like he'll absolutely spoil you and take you to visit this super famous castle for your birthday, matter of fact he'll rent it out for the occasion

For real he does this because when you're alone he can be himself and he loves doing that when you're both experiencing something that makes you happy-- But! Those are head canons for another time hehe >:)

————————————

Bruce Wayne

I believe he's the only one in the bat family who knows the worth of money while having being rich his entire life (ya know, having to use all the disguises he does and going undercover as a normal person a lot of the time)

He definitely offers you a job at Wayne Enterprises, and if you accept he agrees to keeping your relationship under wraps so that no one will start saying that you 'sleep with him for the job'

On that topic if the relationship ever goes public and people start saying that, he will fire them without hesitation

And if it's business partners joking with him about it, he won't stop dealing with them for the sole purpose of covertly crippling their reputation so badly they'll have no choice but to sell their companies to him

You obviously live with him at the Manor, and he insists that everything be paid for by himself only (ya know, richest man in New Jersey and probably the world soooo....)

Bruce is really bad with his emotions, he tends to really repress them whenever he deems them something he's not 'worthy' of feeling or whenever he perceives he has failed at something or failed someone, so the mere fact he confessed his feelings towards you and that he doesn't shun your love is a huge step forward for him. This doesn't mean that he's good at expressing his emotions when he doesn't repress them though, especially not with words.

This is why his main love languages are gift-giving and acts of service, because he shows his love through actions.

Gift-giving as an important love language for him happens because he's very busy both during the day and the night, so sometimes your schedules just don't align or he even has to go off-world with the Justice League and stuff, so he 'makes up' those missed acts of service with lavish gifts

Usually this could be seen as 'throwing money at the problem and hoping it fixes itself' but the thing is that Bruce's gifts are pretty much always spontaneous. He's out and about in his public persona or patrolling as batman, and he sees a storefront with something that reminds him of you or that he thinks you would like. The next logical step is obviously buying it for you as soon as possible and getting it to the manor. Because Bruce is really bad at showing it but the people he loves are always at the forefront of his mind (when he's not being an asshole and repressing his emotions as if the fate of humankind depended on his ability to give his family the cold shoulder and communicating only in grunts and sighs)

———————————— A/n: this was so fun! I love writing head canons because there is no pressure with story flow and how much description and feeling you're putting into it, it's very similar to sharing your thoughts with a friend and that's what endears the format to me so much :) Hope you enjoyed! If you like my work, please consider reblogging and checking out my other works through the master list in my pinned post<3 Love you all🩷

Total word count: 2009

[scarletwitchgf]

the one where peter finds out | tasm! p.p 1/2

Summary: Based on 2x07 of Friends, “The One Where Ross Finds Out.” Developing a strong crush on Peter Parker, everybody but him knows about it...until a drunken phone call reveals the shocking news to him. (Modern AU)

A/N: Legit haven’t written anything in a long time by now so my sincerest apologies if this is a little rusty. Also! I’ve decided to include the NWH cast in this bc why not? Hope you enjoy! 

Word Count: 2.9k

“Guys, I did it!”

Peter hollered excitedly as he threw off his jacket, hanging it on the coat rack and walked into the living room of your apartment, seeing all of his friends sitting comfortably on the couches. They hadn’t even bothered to avert their gazes from the tv screen to Peter’s excitement. He scoffed at this and snapped his fingers repeatedly, finally catching their attention.

MJ raised her brow as she averted her attention towards the smiling brunet. “What did you do now?” She rubbed her tired eyes and yawned.

“You guys remember that cute barista I met earlier this week?”

“The one you wouldn’t shut up about?” Ned questioned rather cheerfully. Your other friend Peter, whom everyone would just call by his last name to not get him and the other Peter confused, sat quietly beside his best friend yet still showed his interest in the conversation.

“Yes, that one! Her name is Gwen.” Peter pointed his finger. “Scored her number finally. We have a date tomorrow night.”

Parker raised a brow, his lips turning into a smirk as he quietly applauded Peter for his confidence on asking out the cute barista he talked non-stop about for the entire week. The two of them first met her on Monday morning, and after they left, Parker swore he saw stars in Peter’s eyes. It was both disgusting and adorable at the same time.

Despite Parker’s happiness for his best friend, on the other hand, you weren’t so ecstatic about the situation. In fact, it took everything in you to not storm out of the living room and scream at the top of your lungs outside. You couldn’t help that tiny, more-so huge tinge of jealousy right at the pit of your stomach. You tried so hard to keep your focus on the movie in front of you, but it was difficult not listening to Parker and Peter in the kitchen. Sighing deeply, you slumped further into the couch and leaned your head on Ned’s shoulder.

He chuckled and looked down at you. “What’s the matter with you, sadness?”

“Shut up, Ned,” you mumbled against him. “Not really feeling this movie choice.”

“Since when are you not feeling Ratatouille?” He raised a curious brow. “This is like, one of your favorite movies ever.” 

“Ned come on,” MJ interjected with a blank stare, moving out of her seat from across you two to sit beside you instead. She put your legs on her lap and lightly rubbed your arm. “Just ignore them, Y/N. Peter’s a loser.”

“Yeah, a loser that I’m hopelessly in love with.” You sighed again, not even bothering to listen to Parker and Peter’s conversation anymore. It hurt too much.

It seemed as if everybody except Peter knew about your little crush on him. And now that you thought about it, it almost seemed pointless now. He was too busy in his own world, dreaming about dating cute baristas while you couldn’t even stand a chance. Last you recalled, he only considered you as his friend and a friend only. Nothing more.

And that’s how it was always going to be unfortunately.

“Hey Parker, wanna head home?” MJ called out to her boyfriend, carefully moving your legs off of her lap so she could stand up. Then, she extended her hand out to you as she helped you get on your feet. Parker frowned, checking the time on his watch. His shoulders slumped, it was getting a little late and he had work in the early morning, as did MJ. 

Ned followed suit shortly after while Peter joined everyone back in the living room again. Without much enthusiasm in your tone anymore, you said your goodbyes to your friends and headed towards the doorway. Peter caught sight of you, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

His arms were extended and wrapped around you in a heartwarming embrace. God, you wanted to stay like this forever if you could. He pulled away and lightly patted your shoulder, opening the door for the others and following behind Parker and Ned. “Catch you guys later.”

“Have fun on your date.” You said over your shoulder, turning your head away before he saw you roll your eyes. MJ caught onto it and giggled quietly, draping her arm around your shoulder.

“You know, it amazes me how much you like him. All throughout high school and now college. I would say it’s disgusting, but look at Parker and I.”

You snorted, waving her off. “I never meant for it to happen that way, but, shit happens I guess,” you mumbled carelessly. “Do you even think he’s going to have a nice time with that Gwen girl?”

MJ scoffed, nodding. “Hell no. You’re not her, which means he’s going to have a shitty date with that girl. But in the meantime, forget about him. Let’s go out for coffee tomorrow. My treat.”

Your heart swelled at your friend’s offering, giving her a half smile and nodding. “Sure, but you're driving.” 

She shook her head. “Shouldn’t have said that, because Parker just had me rediscover some old Celine Dion songs and she’s all I’ve been listening to lately.” 

“MJ listening to cheesy love songs?” You scoffed, hand on your own chest. “Parker seriously has you wrapped around his finger.” 

A blush crept upon her cheeks and she avoided your gaze. “Maybe. But don’t you dare tell Ned or Peter about my music though.” 

“No promises, MJ.” 

~

This was such a bad idea.

Why on earth would you trust MJ enough to set you up on a date tonight? Sure, her taste in men was surprisingly pretty good, considering Parker was super cute, but still. No man out there could ever come close to Peter in your world, so why even bother? Which is exactly why MJ set this up for you. She claimed you needed to take some time away from being so head over heels with that man and thought this may be your first step in getting over him.

Apparently your so-called date tonight was named Sam. You had no idea what to expect from this guy, but in your heart, you thought you’d give him a shot and see where the night may or may not take you. On the bright side however, at least you two were going to a pizzeria which is always an A+ in your book. Sadly, not Joe’s Pizza but this’ll do for now.

Arriving at the restaurant, you searched briefly through all the tables until some goofy looking man waved his arm in the air, probably for you. You plastered on a fake smile and slowly walked over to him, shaking his hand as you sat across from him at your booth table.

“Sam.”

“Y/N.”

“Wow, uh, you look really beautiful.” Sam grinned, gesturing towards you.

“Thanks.” You took off your coat and set it beside you, picking up the menu and looked over it.

Sam licked his lips, wiping his sweaty palms on his knees. “Uh, I don’t know if MJ told you but this is the first date I’ve gone on in years. My last relationship lasted about five years,” he admitted. “So, if I seem a little nervous, I am.”

“Do you think baristas are cute?” You questioned suddenly, ignoring his previous statement.

“I’m sorry?” He furrowed his brows as he chuckled.

“Baristas,” you repeated. “Do you think they’re cute?”

He shrugged, awkwardly scratching his scalp before he stammered out a response. “D-Depends…? If the girl’s cute then yeah, sure.”

“Fantastic.” You pressed your lips together in a thin line, turning away to grab a wine glass from a random server passing by your table. Sam watched as you took the glass and laughed silently to himself, knowing sooner or later that this date wasn’t going to end the way he expected it to.

Downing the glass, you set it on the table and rested your chin on the palm of your hand and stared ahead at Sam. He cleared his throat and smiled nervously. “MJ told you I was cuter than this, didn’t she?”

“Oh no, Sam.” You shook your head, frowning. “It’s not you, really it isn’t. I’m sorry, it’s just this thing...it’s probably not as bad as it sounds but this friend of mine is going out on a date tonight with this cute barista girl he met.”

Sam raised a brow, tilting his head in confusion. “Yeah, that does sound...bad?”

“I mean, he just met her! Why the rush on going out so quickly? Getting her phone number is one thing, but scoring a date with her too on the same day? Come on now.”

“Is this guy an old boyfriend of yours or something?” he asked.

You couldn’t help laugh at his question, uncertain if it was the wine already kicking into your system. “Please, he wishes.”

“Look, I’m sorry.” You waved off, pushing away the subject. “Let’s talk about you, Sam.”

“Sure.”

“You ever went out on a date with a cute barista girl before?”

He dropped his head, his shoulders shaking from laughing. “Not as likely as you’d think, Y/N.”

Throughout the rest of the night, Sam and you talked briefly about yourselves but for the most part your conversations mainly consisted of you blabbering about Peter’s date. And as much as Sam wanted to completely avoid the topic, it was slightly entertaining to watch your drunken state talk furiously about that man. He’d sit back, relax, and sip quietly on his Coke and take a bite out of his pizza slice every now and then.

“God, look at me, Sam.” You waved your hand around, taking another drink out of your wine glass. “I’m on a date with a really great guy and all I can think about is stupid Peter on his date with that barista girl.”

“I just want to get over him, you know? Like is that too much to ask for?”

Sam sighed, setting his plate to the edge of the table and folded his hands in front of him. “Oh boy. Look, I’ve been through a rough breakup. Trust me, you’re going to be fine,” he assured. “You just can’t see it now because you haven’t had any closure.”

And just like that, your mind clicked with an idea. Your eyes widened instantly as you nearly spilled your wine all over the table from your excitement. “That’s it! Closure. You’re a genius, Sam.”

“How exactly do I get that though?” you questioned, grabbing a breadstick. 

Sam furrowed his brows, shrugging. “Well, there’s really no one way, it’s just that whatever it takes so you can finally say to him, ‘I’m over you.’” He emphasized his last three words.

“‘I’m over you.’” You repeated, lips curving into a joyous smile. “That’s what it is. Closure.”

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out your phone and quickly tapped onto the screen to go to your contacts app and searched for Peter’s number. After scrolling endlessly for it, you tapped on his contact and pressed the small blue phone button to call. Within seconds, his machine decided to pick up instead. “Great, voicemail.”

“Peterrrrr, hey. It’s Y/N. I’m just calling to say that um...everything’s fine and I’m really happy for you and that barista girl who I have no idea what her name is. But I don’t care!” You went on, watching as Sam gave you a thumbs up the entire time you were speaking. “And, you know, I wanted to say that I am over you. I...am over, you. O-V-E-R. Over. And that, my friend is what they call ‘closure’.” You dropped your phone as if it were a mic and tossed it aside.

“I think it’s safe to say that this night is now officially over with. Thank you, Sam.”

He laughed. “My pleasure, let’s get the check and I’ll drive you home since you’re clearly not in the right state at the moment to drive yourself.”

“Such a sweet gentleman you are, Sammy.” You giggled, reaching ahead to squeeze his cheeks. “Wow, you have soft cheeks.”

“Uh waiter, check please!”

—

The next morning, if hell were a person, it definitely would’ve been you. The groan that escaped your lips as you woke up was almost demonic, the pounding in your head combined with a wave of nausea. You hadn’t even realized MJ was in your apartment until she stepped into your room with a glass of water and painkillers. Sam had texted her after dropping you off and letting her know the state you were in, so she figured you would’ve needed some help in the morning. It was moments like these where your spare key was put to perfect use. Not really. As she walked out and left, you reached for the pills and water on your nightstand as you sat up and tried remembering the events from last night.

You can vaguely remember going to the pizzeria with someone, Sam was his name? Yeah, that seems about right. He was the date MJ set you up with, and even though you couldn’t really remember everything that went on, you were hoping and praying that it didn’t end off on a bad note. Which technically it didn’t, but for Sam he didn’t get a goodnight kiss nor were his chances high enough for a second date with you. So, there’s that.

But beyond that thought, there was this feeling deep inside that wouldn’t leave. You weren’t sure if it was more nausea, or something else. And as much as you thought it was nausea, it was most definitely something else. But what could it have been though?

Shrugging off your thoughts, you slowly rolled out of bed and fished through your drawers for a fresh pair of clothes and made your way into the restroom to shower. Finishing up after the next twenty minutes, a sudden knock was heard through the door. Groaning, you stepped into the living room and opened the door, eyes widening as you saw Peter.

“Hey!” He smiled that charming bright smile that made your knees weak. His hair was tousled as if he had been running his fingers through it, and he was wearing a plain black tee and jeans. Such a casual look, yet still managed to look so freaking adorable and hot at the same time. 

“Hey.” You rubbed your forehead, wincing at the pain from your headache.

“Ouch, what happened to you?” he worriedly asked as he entered your apartment.

You sat down by the kitchen table and drank the rest of your water. “I went on a date last night,” you answered. “But um, I think there was a restaurant. I know there was wine...and that’s really all I can remember right now.”

Peter winced, but still managed to laugh. “Looks like someone had a little too much to drink last night. But hey listen, that cute barista girl I went out with yesterday? She was great. Her names Gwen and I think I have a good shot at scoring a second date.”

“That’s fantastic, Peter. I’m really happy for you.” You tried communicating happiness in your tone, but you were unsure if it came out that way at all. Despite feeling the nausea in your stomach, you were certain you felt despair too. Maybe envy.

“Thanks, Y/N, anyway how’d your date go? Tell me all about it.” The more Peter continued to talk, the more your memory started to come back. Tilting your head, you squinted your eyes at him and tapped your fingers along your lips, in deep thought.

“By chance, did we speak on the phone yesterday or something? I feel like we did.”

Peter shook his head. “Not that I can recall.”

“Hm. Odd, I could’ve sworn we did, but never mind.”

“As a matter of fact, I haven’t gone through my phone all morning,” he said, pulling his phone out. Not even five seconds into doing that, he raised a brow as he saw that you left him a voicemail last night. “You called me yesterday?”

Your body froze almost instantly as the realization of things dawned over you. A wave of panic hit you as you quickly stood and rushed over to Peter’s seat and attempted grabbing his phone. “Oh god, Peter do not listen to my message!”

Peter chuckled nervously as he gave you a confused look but still proceeded to listen to your message. “I’m sure it’s nothing anyway. Relax.”

Shit, shit, shit. This cannot be happening!

Fumbling over your own feet, you almost fell to the ground, your panic increasing by every passing second as you saw Peter stand from his chair and walked to the living room. Without even thinking about it, you leaped onto his back, wrapping your legs around him with your hands on his head and trying to snatch his phone away.

But by the time you finally did, he heard each word you said into that message. He dropped his phone on the floor and stood frozen with you remaining on his back, blinking quickly. You breathed rapidly, gasping for air it seemed like while your heart was nearly pumping out of your chest. Lucky for you though, Peter felt the same way right now in this moment.

“W-what, w-wait,” he stuttered. “You’re...over me?”

“Wait, when were you ever under me?”

You groaned loudly, burying your face in your hands as you sat on the couch, rocking yourself back and forth. “Well...basically, uh, lately, I’ve um, sort of had feelings for you.”

Peter was taken aback, unsure if he heard your words correctly. Clearly he was dreaming, but fortunately he wasn’t. It was reality. “You’ve had...feelings for me?”

“Yeah, so what though!” You furrowed your brows, scoffing. “You’re seeing Gwen anyway. There’s no need for you to worry about me liking you.”

“Well, clearly but...god.” His mind was trying to wrap around the thought of you liking him. “But now you’re over me?”

He clenched his jaw as his eyes fixated on yours seriously, looking for a response out of your expression. You had no words left in you to answer his question, and without speaking again, Peter released a shaky breath as he picked up his phone from the ground. He ran his fingers through his hair and walked towards the front door.

“I have to go.”

- 

Part 2

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter 4: Unexpected (Bonding)

Prev

AO3

Bruce Wayne felt lost. This wasn’t an unusual feeling for him, but he wasn’t particularly fond of the events that led to him feeling lost. First, he found out he had a daughter. Yet another child that he hadn’t known of their existence. Then, he acted as Batman. He researched the girl and found that her school situation was...less than ideal. As was the supervillain situation in Paris. The girl- his daughter- had been targeted several times. Sometimes the Akuma went after her from the start. Other times, she was unfortunate enough to be in its line of sight when it was on a rampage. Any way you looked at it, she was in danger. No, the biggest mistake in researching her came with the phone number for the bakery run by her parents. Two lovely people who had raised her and taught her right from wrong. Something he hadn’t done. Their phone call was what left him feeling lost. They hadn’t demanded that he stay away from his daughter- from Marinette. No, on the contrary, they thought it was a great idea for the two to bond. Especially once Bruce had mentioned his other children. 

“Marinette was distraught when the only information we could give her about her birth father was his name.” Sabine had said, adding to Bruce’s confusion. 

“You had my name but didn’t reach out?” Bruce asked, trying (and failing) to figure out the situation. 

“We didn’t have much to go on. Just your name and that you were American and worked in business. Bridgette didn’t give any specifics, and back then it didn’t really matter. I assumed Bruce Wayne was a common enough name, especially in the US.” Sabine replied simply. The rest of their conversation had gone similarly, with Bruce growing more and more lost until the end. They hadn’t even suggested a DNA test (though he was planning on asking Marinette, just so that they could be completely certain). They just wanted Marinette happy. Even if it meant meeting and bonding with the man who hadn’t known about her existence. 

---

Marinette Dupain Cheng was not having an easy week. No, her week was sucky. In fact it was beyond sucky, it was shitty. So many things were happening at the same time, and she was just grateful that she wasn’t currently in Paris, since she was certain she’d be akumatized. From being attacked by the Joker for simply looking like a Wayne, to meeting Batman who was just as angry in person, and then figuring out Bruce Wayne really was her dad and accidentally calling him Batman, to fighting an Akuma by herself (one that she could barely handle) and then to top it all off, Adrien is Chat Noir. And Adrien has a crush on her, as Marinette. And apparently has for at least a month. Oh and now he knows that she’s Ladybug and so last night was filled with her Chat Blanc nightmares all over again. The cherry on the top of this mess was the fact that the class was practically ignoring her. She was sure they weren’t doing it intentionally and that they were just kinda distracted by Lila’s tall tales of Gotham. Tales that include her dating one of Bruce Wayne’s sons. She wouldn’t clarify which one, which was probably for the best. They two closest to their age were 12 and 19. Neither a great option for the 15 year old Italian. A shrill ringing tugs Marinette out of her thoughts. Glancing down at the unknown number attempting to call her, Marinette silently prayed that this would turn her shitty week around. 

“Hello?” She answers, wincing slightly at the way her voice sounds after a night filled with screaming and crying from nightmares. 

“Is this Marinette Dupain Cheng?” A deep voice asks. Marinette frowns. 

“Um, yes?”

“Good. This is Bruce Wayne and well, I’m not sure how to-”

“You’re my dad.” She blurts out, face instantly heating up. “Oh crap, I mean, um-”

“Well yes. I do believe I may be your father. I was in contact with your parents earlier, to ask about boundaries and such. Your mother says that you had shown interest in meeting me and seeing how we’re similar?” He says, the question clear in his voice. Marinette opens her mouth to respond, then frowns. 

“Just like that? We’re gonna meet, just like that?” She asks, hoping that her distrustful tone doesn’t push the man away. 

“I’ll admit that I was going to ask if you would mind a paternity test. After speaking with your mother, I have no doubts, but I thought it might make you feel better. And of course, if you would prefer to just act as though I didn’t speak to your parents and go on with your trip, we can do that as well. I just- I was caught off guard, if I’m being honest.” Bruce Wayne- her father- says. 

“I’ll do it. I- I would like to get to know you. I can’t have a relationship with Bridgette, but if my parents are okay with it, I do want a relationship with you.” Marinette admits, holding her breath as she waits for an answer. There’s silence on the other end for a long moment, but just as Marinette’s about to apologize and tell him he can go and pretend she doesn’t exist, he answers. His voice a little softer this time. 

“I would like that.” 

---

The paternity test came out positive, to no one’s surprise. Bruce had given Marinette the option of meeting somewhere more public (like a restaurant or museum) to bond, or coming over to the manor. Not quite ready to deal with the possibility of paparazzi and the rumors (no matter how true they may be) that would stem from a public visit, Marinette agreed to going to the manor for dinner. Which is how she ended up sitting in silence in a town car with a man who seemed like he knew more than he was letting on. 

“So, you’re the one who raised Mr. Wayne?” Marinette asks, not quite ready to call the man “Dad” or any variation of the word. The man nods and she meets his eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“Indeed, Miss. I am Alfred Pennyworth.” The man, Monsieur Pennyworth, says calmly. She tries not to let the frustration that she feels building show on her face. She feels like she should know this man, like there’s something important that she’s just barely missing. 

“Have we met before?” Marinette finally asks, racking her brain as she tries to figure out why this man is so familiar to her. 

“I don’t believe so, Miss Dupain Cheng.” He says, and for the first time since meeting him, it doesn’t feel like he’s all knowing. Instead, it feels like he’s just as confused as she is. Drat. She opens her mouth to question him more, when the huge manor becomes visible in the distance. Eyes widening, Marinette forgets everything else and turns her attention to the beautiful architecture. The giant fence and metal gates do little to hide the massive house. Sections of the house rise above others, almost as if there are towers. Dozens of windows are visible, as is the giant fountain at the front of the house. Ripping her sketchbook out of her bag, Marinette immediately starts sketching out the ideas that attack her mind. Dresses and suits and skirts, all using the architecture in front of her for the basic shapes of the outfits. As the car goes past the gate and the gardens come into view, Marinette can’t hold back her shocked gasp. Shaped hedges and flowers, hundreds of different colored flowers, and trees and- it was beautiful. Almost too perfect. Like something that belonged in a movie. She jumps slightly as the car door is opened, Alfred standing on the other side with an eyebrow quirked up. Right. She was actually getting out of the car. And going into this massive house. And spending time with her biological- nope. She can’t do this. She can’t- 

“Miss Dupain Cheng, if it makes you feel any better, Master Bruce seems to have run into some traffic on his way back from the office. You’ll have a few minutes to gather your bearings inside before he arrives.” Alfred says softly. Relief washes over her and she nods, finally moving to get out of the car. 

“Thank you, Alfred.” She says, smiling at the man. He nods back at her before leading her up the steps to the door. He opens it and then steps back, allowing her to take a tentative step into the house. Her previous panic is pushed aside as she realizes the inside is just as gorgeous as the outside. Immediately turning back to her sketchbook, she tunes out the world around her and just stands in the foyer, scribbling furiously into her sketchbook. 

“Um, hi?” A voice says, making Marinette yelp and jump, eyes scanning her surroundings until they fall on a guy. A pretty tall guy. 

“Hi.” She says softly, also confused as to who this guy was. Not her- dad-biological father-other part of her DNA-father-Mr. Wayne- not anyone she had ever met, that’s for sure. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Dick Grayson.” The man says, extending his hand, a smile on his face. Anyone else probably would have thought the smile was sincere, but Marinette had always been good at reading emotions. And she could tell that he was wary of her. Why would he- oh. Grayson. As in, Richard Grayson, as in this man was her brother. Or, well, maybe he wouldn’t want to be. Maybe he would think that she’s ridiculous or that she’s just here to get money or here to try and pull apart Mr. Wayne’s family or maybe he would think that she was trying to take his place and she would never but maybe he would hate her and- She takes in a deep breath, trying desperately to ground herself and wishing she’d taken up Adrien’s earlier offer of him coming with. 

“I’m Marinette. Marinette Dupain Cheng.” She finally says, reaching out and shaking his hand. He nods, obviously still confused. So Mr. Wayne hadn’t mentioned her. Did he hate her? Did he ask her here to have her sign a NDA? Did he not want anything to do with her? Of course he wouldn’t, he obviously already had a family. A family that he chose, not one that he had by accident. His name was on her birth certificate, surely he would have found her sooner if he actually wanted anything to do with her? He chose Dick Grayson to be his son. He wanted him. He didn’t want Marinette. He-

“Ah, Marinette. I see you’ve met Dick.” The last voice she needed to hear says calmly as he walks through the door. Marinette swallows back the thickness in her throat, the one that tells her the tears will be starting soon. 

“Uh, yes. Mr. Wayne. Um, hi.” She says, flinching slightly when he winces. What did she do wrong this time? Was he really going to tell her to take a hike? If he didn’t hate her before, he surely did now. 

“Bruce, what’s going-” Dick starts to ask but is cut off by screaming voices getting closer to them.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Demon Spawn?” 

“Not my fault your blocking skills are subpar, Todd.”

“Sub- you almost stabbed me, you little shit!”

“Almost, yes. But I didn’t. I’m sure Father will be pleased with my restraint.” 

“You little fu-” “Boys!” Mr. Wayne finally yells as the two screaming walk into view. Both freeze and the younger one’s eyes instantly fall on Marinette, narrowing as he takes a defensive position. 

“Another one, Bruce, really?” The older one asks, making Marinette flinch back. Of course. Two more of his sons-her brothers- who he chose. Another two that he wanted. Not like her, someone he was going to be forced to know. Unless he told her tonight that he never wanted to speak to her again and made her sign a paper saying that she would never contact him again and then they would never have to worry about seeing her again and- oh this is a lot. 

“What were you two doing?” Mr. Wayne finally asks, and that’s when Marinette sees the weapons in their hands. And the blood on the older man’s shirt. The man turns slightly so that that part of his shirt is hidden when he notices her staring. 

“Uh, bonding?” He says, not at all convincing. 

“Who is that, Father?” The younger boy asks, the utter distaste clear on both his face and in his tone. And this is it. This is where he’s going to say that she’s no one, she’s nothing, and then he’s going to make her sign that stupid piece of paper and the last chance she has at knowing one of her biological parents is going to fly out the window. Poof. And then she’ll be so embarrassed, she won’t be able to go back on the trip and then she’ll have to change her name but she can’t completely run away yet because of stupid Hawkmoth and-

“This is Marinette, my daughter.” Well that was unexpected.

Next

Tag List: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo

[sourholland]

Ooooh angst “what about us?” “there is no us, there never was.” with tom plssss! Really love ur work 🌸

Last Kiss || Tom Holland

Summary → After a fling you and Tom had started while filming a movie together, he tells you that you two can’t be together anymore. Once you get home, Tom let’s you know that he made a mistake.

AN → This was supposed to come out yesterday, I just got lazy and waited to edit it. I can’t tell if I like how this came out or hate it, either way, I hope you guys like this. Also in honor of the Fearless re-record!!

Pairing(s) → Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Warnings → Strong Language, Suggestive, Alcohol Use

Prompt(s) → 38

Word Count → 1.9k

The ringing of your phone sounded through your apartment loudly, the sound of the rain pattering loudly against the windows out-looking New York City. You set down the remote, feet padding against the cold hardwood while you looked for your buzzing cellphone.

You didn’t bother glancing at the caller ID, picking it up bringing it to your ear all in one quick motion.

“Hello?” You said, pulling a wine glass down from the cabinet.

“Y/N?” Tom’s voice came through the phone.

Your heart dropped, a breath catching in your throat while you stood in your kitchen. He was across the country, wanting nothing to do with you. He repeated your name through the phone, asking if you were there.

“Yeah, I’m here,” you answered, pouring more wine than you’d originally intended into the glass.

“Isn’t it like one in the morning in England?” You asked, listening to the muffles coming through the speaker.

“Yeah—yeah, it’s late here. I just couldn’t sleep, and I started to think of you. Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have called.”

You sat at one of the barstools, swirling the red contents of the glass around. You wanted to yell at him, or maybe you wanted to tell him how much you loved him. You sat silently for a few moments, bare legs cold from the draft.

“Tom,” you started. “I just don’t get why we have to rehash the past, you know? I came back to New York, just like you told me I should. You’re working on whatever new movie, I’m doing the same. I don’t know—I just think we should leave whatever happened between us alone. You made it very clear that it was me that you didn’t want,” you mumbled, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater.

He audibly sighed, the ruffling of sheets coming through the phone. He was probably in bed, if he wasn’t so far away you’d have asked him if this was a sad attempt at getting you to sleep with him.

“I was fucking stupid, and I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry, I’ve said that a million times,” his voice was hoarse and tired.

“I’ve already forgiven you, Tom. I just can’t keep doing this—this thing with you.”

You both went quiet for a minute, the only sound being the noise from outside in the bustling streets of the city and the rain. You knew you should hang up, block his number and forget about anything you two ever had. You’d tried a few times, unable to bring yourself to doing it.

“What about us?” He asked lowly, a twinge of hurt in his tired voice.

“There is no us, Tom,” you replied. “I’m not even sure there ever was.”

He didn’t say anything, you wanted to let out the repressed cry and tell him you didn’t mean it. That you were sorry and that you thought about him more than you’d like to admit. Something in you knew if you didn’t do your best to cut it off, you two would continue down the same everlasting cycle.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay.”

The line went silent for a moment, and then your home screen lit up. The call had been ended. You downed the remainder of your wine, ditching the cup and just going for the bottle. You thought about calling him back, about apologizing and booking a plane ticket like some lovesick teenager.

You opened Instagram and began scrolling through your feed of posts, liking and commenting occasionally. You weren’t anywhere near drunk, merely tipsy and heartbroken. Your finger lingered on the button to go live, wondering if you really wanted thousands of people to see you in this state.

You left the kitchen and instead propped your phone against the couch, taking a seat on the white rug of your living room. You wearily pressed the go live button, raising the bottle to your chapped lips once more. You are pathetic, you thought.

“Hey guys!” You smiled at the camera and outpouring of greetings in the comments. Within a few minutes you’d racked in a few thousand viewers. You grabbed the guitar sitting against your wall and strummed the cords lightly while it sat in your lap.

userone: you are so adorable

usertwo: can you please say hi?!!!??

userthree: it’s my birthday y/n!

“I’m sorry I haven’t been very active on social media, guys. It’s been super crazy traveling back and forth from London to New York and then having to leave again in a few weeks. And now I’m sitting on my living room floor with a bottle of wine,” you laughed. A few familiar people popped into the comments of the live, some you’ve worked with and some you’ve yet to meet in person.

florencepugh: y/n!!!

gracieabrams: might just bust out the wine just for u

“Florence, I can’t wait to see you soon!” You smiled, “Gracie, I swear it’s making everything like a hundred times better.”

userfour: i’m in love with her

userfive: y/n saving 2021???!!!

“I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be singing,” you flushed. You did sing, before getting into acting you’d post a lot on Instagram and TikTok. It’d always been more of a hobby, something you loved to do, but weren’t good enough to pursue.

“I’ve had a little too much to drink,” you added. “So don’t get upset if I’m a little pitchy, guys.”

usersix: if she’s pitchy i’m not sure what i am

userseven: sing taylor swift!!!

“Okay, okay!” You chuckled, scrolling through the hundreds of comments saying to play Taylor Swift. You’d only just been crying to like three of her albums a few hours before.

“How about the chorus—and maybe the bridge too, yeah, that’ll work,” you mumbled to yourself, fiddling with the strings. “Alright, guys, Last Kiss it is. I won’t bore you all with the whole thing, though. I could never do Taylor justice.”

“And I’ll go sit on the floor, wearing your clothes”

Getting involved with him was singlehandedly the most stupid decision you’ve ever made, you thought. Late nights in his flat after long nights on set, ordering in and just talking, you two would talk as if you’d known each other your whole lives. It was something about the way he’d let you wear his clothes, or the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear while you told him about whatever insignificant thing that had happened that day.

“All that I know,

I don’t know how to be something you miss”

The car ride to the airport was the worst, it was grey and cold outside. There was makeup running down your face, mascara covering your eyes generously. You’d wrapped filming a week earlier, unable to bring yourself to walk away from him.

You couldn’t tell the driver to turn you around, or could you? Tom had already made it clear that you were both in different places in your career. This wasn’t what he wanted. You weren’t what he wanted.

“I never thought we’d have our last kiss”

He had held you just a little tighter, you ran your fingers through his hair for just a second longer. The taste of each other lingering on the both of your lips. Like you knew it would be the last time he’d hold you without knowing.

His stupid smiled, the way he pulled away and ran his thumb over your swollen bottom lip. You were almost wrapped around his finger, absolutely sickened with desire and infatuation for him.

“I never imagined we’d end like this,

Your name, forever the name on my lips”

The day you’d left to come home to New York started with a huge argument between the two of you. He’d basically just told you that you’d both known from the beginning you wouldn’t last together. It wasn’t a matter of how much you cared for one another, but that it was impossible, as he put it.

His eyes glossed over and bloodshot, you a complete and utter mess. Slamming the door behind you as you left was one of the most painful things you’d ever endured. Even more painful, the fact that he never came after you.

“So I’ll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep”

“I can feel you staring at me, love,” he murmured against the pillow.

Your face heated, eyes averting to the stream of light through the sheerness of the curtains. He leaned into you a moment later, his lips soft on your own. He was warm, he was always so warm. You cupped the side of his face gently, pulling him in a bit harder.

“And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe”

You dropped your bags, stepping into your apartment after months of being away. It felt quieter than usual, desolate and empty from your being away. It was dark out, the illumination of the bright city lights from your windows.

You glanced down at your phone for a moment, not a missed call, not a text, not even a fucking notification. He’d simply told you to go home, nothing more nothing less.

“I keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are,

Hope it’s nice where you are”

You’d texted Harrison a few times, regretting it almost immediately after. He was sweet, telling you that Tom would come around eventually and to just be patient. You’d relied on those kind words for some time, eventually deleting them all together.

After Tom’s first text, you’d realized he wasn’t coming around or regretting what he’d said to you. He was lonely, maybe even a bit desperate. For months you had been there to listen to him and hold him, and now you were gone.

You’d fed into it the first few times, sitting on the phone with him for hours at a time. Then you started to feel worse hearing his voice, silent sobs escaping as you’d listen to him ramble. Then your finger would linger over the decline button a little longer than usual when he’d call, until eventually you started to use it.

“And I hope the sun shines and it’s a beautiful day,

And something reminds you,

You wish you had stayed”

Once you started to go out with other guys, Tom’s ‘I miss you’ texts became more infrequent. Paparazzi would snap pictures, and the next morning they’d be plastered all over the internet.

There was no doubt he was seeing you going out with other people, watching article after article about who you were dating surface. Would he be jealous? No, you thought. Tom was probably doing the same thing as you. Hopeless hookups, meaningless blind dates.

“You can plan for a change in the weather and time”

One early morning, you found yourself in a sweatshirt you’d stolen from one of his drawers and forgotten to return. Listening to the morning rush of traffic and hugging yourself, noticing the lingering smell of his cologne.

You wondered if he knew you’d taken it, if he would think you were pathetic wearing it months after you two had broken things off. This only made you clutch yourself a little tighter, closing your eyes and trying to remember.

“But I never planned on you changing your mind”

[pagingdoctorbedlam]

Hello again! Now that I know who you write for, I'm back with a request! Can I please suggest Sanji x Reader (if that's okay) with the following summer theme prompt? I'm actually really curious to see your take on Sanji. 😳

“some asshole left their dog in the car in the blistering heat and we both noticed and are debating on what to do” au

Thank you so much for doing this! 🥰

Hi Luxi, and thanks for bringing me my first-ever askbox fic prompt! (the prompt list is here for anyone interested)

The idea for this fic sprung into my head soon as I read the prompt, so I hope you enjoy...

"Dog Days: A Sanji x Reader Fic"

You hadn't even made it halfway to the store when you noticed the dog. Not that it was hard to ignore; the poor mutt surveyed the entire parking lot from the window of a jacked-up pickup, and its baleful barks escaped the tiniest crack in the window. The day was hot enough that you were sweltering soon as you stepped outside; you couldn't imagine how bad it must be for a fuzzy dog, much less one trapped in a truck.

Soon as you heard the mutt, all plans derailed. You couldn't just leave it there, and who knew how long the owner might be gone? You racked your brain for a plan, but you had to think fast. The dog's whimpers were already getting weaker.

When you strode up to the car, someone else had the same idea. A tall blond strode up to the opposite side of the truck, eyes so narrowed they looked about to shoot lasers. The truck was large enough that it had running boards to reach the doors, but he hopped right up with a water bottle. The dog shuffled over at the sight of a human, and as the stranger dripped cool water through the crack in the windows, the dog eagerly lapped it up. Its tail still barely wagged, even that exertion too much in this heat.

"This dog can't stay in here," you said as you stared at the locks. The truck didn't have a keypad, thank goodness...and as a matter of fact, it had one of those manual locks on the inside, the sort you pulled up to unlock the car. Which would've been perfect if you weren't wearing sandals. "Hey. Weird question, but are you wearing shoes with laces right now?"

The blond looked at you through the truck window. "Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"I think I can get the truck open, but I'll need to borrow a shoelace."

You figured the guy would refuse, or at least ask questions as to why you needed his darn shoes. Instead, he hopped down from his side of the truck and ambled over to you. He was a handsome guy, now that you got a good look at him. Tasteful button-down shirt and slacks even in this weather, slick blond hair with bangs that covered half his face in a way that looked more mysterious than old-school emo...the curly eyebrow was a little odd, but in a quirky way. Made him more handsome, in an odd way. Especially when he put one foot up on the running board and unlaced his shoe, sliding the string out and handing it to you with a determined nod.

You formed a small lasso with the shoestring, then slid it into the crack in the window. All you had to do was lower it onto the lock, tighten the loop, and pull.

"You happen to be a master thief or something?" The blond asked, simultaneously curious and impressed.

"Nothing so fancy. I'm just real bad about leaving my keys in my car. Keep an eye out in case the owner comes back, okay?"

The stranger nodded and hopped back onto the running board to peer over the top of the truck. Meanwhile, the mutt inside crawled up to the front seat, curious at this new development. It thankfully seemed smart enough to recognize that it was being saved, and didn't bat at the string. Just a little more, and...there! You tightened the loop and pulled the lock up with a satisfying click.

Three things happened at once.

You pulled the door open.

The mutt leapt into your arms with such force, you fell off the running board.

And the car alarm blared with the fury of a thousand hornets.

You clutched the mutt tight to your chest and prepared to hit the pavement, but you instead fell into a pair of sturdy arms. The wind hit your face as you opened your eyes; the blond was bolting full-tilt through the parking lot with you and the dog in his grasp.

"Where's your car?" He shouted.

"Left it home! I took the bus! Where's your car?"

"I walked!" His shoes slapped against the pavement, and you belatedly realized that the shoestring had been left behind in the chaos, still looped around the lock in the still-open door of the truck. Your imagination ran wild with cops somehow tracking down your prints from the shoestring and chasing you down for kidnapping a dog.

"Are we being chased?" You asked.

"Don't know! Not looking back. But if I ever see this dog's owner, I'm kicking his ass!" The blond took a sharp turn, narrowly avoiding a collision with a gaggle of college students. "I'm taking us to my work. There's food and A/C there for the dog, and we can figure out what we're doing from there."

You couldn't think of a better plan, and you wouldn't abandon the mutt at this rate, especially as it licked your face in appreciation. So you nodded and wondered where this bizarre day would take you next.

You'd heard of the Baratie, never had a chance to eat there. Not for lack of funds or interest; it just never came up. So imagine your surprise when you found yourself at the local favorite restaurant before opening, sitting next to a mutt happily lapping up water, the blond stranger humming nearby as he cooked up a meal in the kitchen. Because when he said "get the dog food", he didn't mean ordinary dog chow, but serving up the dog a homemade feast to make up for the ordeal it had just endured.

You had no idea what the dog's name was, or if it had one at all. It had no nametag, just a cheap metal choke-chain you'd swiftly removed. The dog seemed healthy enough, but there were patches in its fur and the scrapes of a rough life outdoors. You decided that, even on the off-chance that someone chased you down for dognapping, you'd refuse to give the mutt up. It deserved a far better home than the one it came from.

Still. "I can't believe I just stole a dog with a random stranger," you said aloud.

"Well then, let's fix that," the blond said as he wandered out with a pair of plates. "I'm Sanji, and here's lunch. Can't be strangers with a name and a meal together, huh?" He set one down in front of the dog, who happily immediately dug into a feast of meat, brown rice, and assorted canine-safe veggies. The other, he set on the table in front of you. You blinked; he'd asked you off-hand questions about your food preferences when you'd arrived, but you hadn't expected him to actually cook for you too.

"I...thank you. And nice to meet you, Sanji." You gave him your name, and his entire face brightened as if it were music to his ears. "Look, this is really sweet, but I don't have a huge amount of cash on hand."

"That's fine. This is on the house, for your heroism and quick-thinking." Sanji took the seat opposite you with a soft smile. "If you hadn't come along, I don't know what I would've done. My only plan was to break the window, but that might've hurt the dog."

You took a bite of your meal. A medley of flavor danced across your tongue. "You know, reasonable folks would've...I dunno, gone inside and had customer service call over the intercom. Or called the cops. Made it someone else's problem."

Sanji shrugged. "Maybe. Think I would've stuck around anyway, saw it through to the end. Had to know if the little guy was alright." There was a softness in Sanji's eye as he looked down at the dog, who chowed down on its meal as if it had never seen food in its life. It was a look of understanding, the sort that came with a history one didn't ask about lightly. Made you curious about this handsome stranger, one who'd drop all plans and leave behind his own shoelaces in order to help someone in need.

You said, "Thank goodness for the unreasonable people of the world, then. Speaking of which...what're we going to do with the dog? I could try to smuggle it into my apartment, but the owners don't allow pets, so I'd have to be careful."

Sanji's gaze flitted up to the ceiling. "My apartment's right over the restaurant. I can keep the dog here."

"Your landlord won't mind?"

"Not if he wants to keep his best chef around. Besides, he's a sucker for underdogs. If the old owner comes back for this little guy, Zeff will toss the guy out by his ears." Sanji winked and turned to the dog. "What do you say, huh? Wanna' stay here with me? Fresh food every day and no choke-chains." The mutt barked in approval, tail wagging at full speed.

Sanji turned to you again. "You're free to visit, if you'd like. I mean, I can't take the dog out during work hours...but like, on breaks, or before we open?"

You smiled at this handsome stranger, with his heart on his sleeve and a sparkle in his eyes. You realize that yes, you'd be more than happy to see him again. "I'd love that. Besides, I'm pretty sure I owe you a new pair of shoelaces..."

[etherrealoblivion]

A Broken System

MASTERLIST

Summary: At her birthday celebration, Y/N is out on the town enjoying herself when she runs into a cute FBI agent who she’d love to take home and do terrible things to. Normally, someone meeting an FBI agent at a bar wouldn’t be that big of a deal. There’s just one, miniscule, microscopic, meager, problem... Y/N is only twenty.

tags: Large Age Difference, power imbalance, choking, Dom/sub, safe sex, vaginal penetration, dirty talk, cliffhanger.

A/N: this just made so much more sense in third person. i tried replacing it with second person, but trust me it did not work. hope you enjoy! gif by @toyboxboy​

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Words: 5,930

~

Spencer Reid never really thought he was attractive.

Probably had something to do with his perpetually messy hair, gangly stature, and his tendency to ramble on and on and on and. . .

Yeah. Like that.

Another factor definitely was the fact that he was in his 30’s and had never really had a stable relationship. Sure, he’d had relationships with a few women. Well, two women. The first being a girl he’d met in college with whom he had a brief fling. Spencer didn’t really count it as a stable relationship due to the fact they barely even kissed. And the other woman, the only woman he’d ever really loved, died tragically several years ago. 

Maeve.

Maeve was the real reason Spencer didn’t like going to bars with Morgan or being set up on dates by Penelope. She was the reason that Spencer wasn’t interested in anyone anymore. Who could possibly compare to Maeve?

Damn it. That was the other reason he wasn’t looking to date. He knew how the mind worked and there was no doubt that if any new person came into his life, she’d be unconsciously compared to Maeve. He couldn’t put anyone through that. 

So, Spencer Reid stayed single. Which, for him, was relatively easy. Whenever someone started to get a little too close with him, he’d blabber and spout facts until they ran off. Morgan would ask what happened and Reid would just put on a slight frown, mumbling how she had to go. 

The charade got more effortless the more they went out. Morgan, almost always going home on the arm of some woman and Spencer content to get a cab back to his own place, have a quick efficient orgasm, and fall asleep.

He had a system. And no one was going to break it.

~

Y/N hated the summertime. 

Well, she didn’t usually. Anywhere else on the planet it would be mildly enjoyable. The beach, ice cream, staying up all night. All that fun crap. In Washington D.C, however, summer was hell.

But! When one was accepted into Georgetown and their parents offered to pay FULL tuition plus housing, how can one say no?

Seriously, she wanted to know.

After two whole years in this armpit of a town, Y/N had finally gotten used to the sweltering heat that plagued the city during the summer. Whatever. She just stayed in the comfortable A.C. all day anyway.

But, the summer before her third year was almost over, and the only thing she could think about now was graduating with a major in Journalism. She didn’t really like most of the courses, but it’s what she needed to do to become a full-time editor.

Living in a rent-free apartment was heaven. No roommates meant no worrying about, well, anything. The only problem was, her parents could hold it over her head every time they called. Which is why she never answered their calls.

Today, however, answering was unavoidable.

Because not only was it the day before her first class, today was her twentieth birthday.

Y/N was in the middle of getting dressed to go out with her friends when her phone vibrated from the kitchen table.

“Hello?”

She tried so hard to suppress the cringe at her mom’s voice.

“Sweetie! How are you? Are you eating?”

“Yes, mom.”

Oh boy. Strong start, mom. 

“You look skinny in the pictures on Facebook!”

Yeah, she was definitely going to be late.

Surprisingly, it only took five minutes to push her mom off the phone, insisting that her friends were on their way and she had to keep getting ready. 

A sharp rap on the door saved her.

“Come on!! It’s almost ten!” Y/N’s friend, Mina, said, annoyed. “All the old people leave the bars at ten and if we don’t get there soon, the bouncers won’t let us in!”

Y/N didn’t really understand the logic there. Hot girls always got into bars. Especially late at night. How were there not more crimes committed in clubs? Maybe she’d find out in her first class tomorrow.

“Hey!” Mina snapped her out of it, “Come on! Let’s go.”

They arrived outside a dinky little club a few minutes later. It had taken Y/N a while to get accustomed to how close everything was together in this town. Before college, she had been a small-town girl. Promise ring and everything. That, uh. That didn’t last long.

Before they got in line, Mina took a long satin sash out of her purse and secured it across Y/N’s torso.

“What the hell’s this?”

The sash was white with large pink flowy letters that poignantly spelled out: Birthday Bitch.

“It’s a sash.”

Three of Mina’s friends strode up, quickly exchanging hugs and wishing Y/N a happy birthday.

“I see that it’s a sash, but why am I wearing it?”

Mina confidently strode up to the bouncer, Y/N at her side, fake ID at the ready. Technically, it was the right birthdate, the year was just a little off.

“Go through. Happy Birthday,” the guy said, barely sparing the ID a glance, more focused on the huge sash. It made sense. She didn’t look her age. No one would think she was only in college by taking a glance at her.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Look,” Mina pulled her aside just before they entered, “this makes every single guy in there want to buy you a drink. So, go enjoy a free Shirley Temple, on me.”

Y/N scoffed and entered the club, immediately overwhelmed by the booming of the music.

Jesus Christ. How did people not die from this? It felt like her heart was beating out of her chest.

Sure, she’d been in a bar before. But not a real, proper club. She was pretty sure she saw some people wearing neon. Oh my god, there was a DJ.

Suppressing a laugh, she headed to the bar. At least there was a bar. There were so many people gathered around though that she couldn’t get much access to the one bartender on staff.

Luckily, he spotted her sash that seemed to shine under the blacklights.

“Hey, make some room for the birthday girl!” 

And the crowd parted like the red sea, every man’s head turned towards her, and she cautiously approached the bartender who gave her a quick wink.

“Scotch. Neat.”

A dark man with a silver nose ring slid onto the stool next to her.

“It’s on me,” he addressed the bartender, staring at her the whole time. “So. Birthday girl. How old are you turning?”

She smiled softly. The sash was working great, but now she had to come up with a way to answer his question without explicitly lying. 

“Who wants to know?”

Maybe flirting would be distracting enough.

He smiled, glancing down for a moment, then holding out his hand. Ha. Men.

“I’m Jon.”

Ugh. She hated handshakes. But for this man, she might be able to make an exception.

“Y/N.”

Five minutes later, she wished with all her heart she could take the handshake back. Y/N should have known better than to talk to a guy at a club. They were all sleazebags. But! She did manage to get a couple of drinks out of it.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said after his fifth time mentioning Outback Steakhouse.

But before she could leave the bar discreetly, a hand wrapped around her arm, yanking her back.

“Hey, what’s the matter? I thought we were talking?”

Y/N may have been a small-town girl, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing his shoulders and driving her knee up into his crotch, stomping off toward the exit.

Only when she got outside did she realize how fast her heart was beating. She leaned over, hands on her knees to catch her breath.

A soft hand on her shoulder made her snap around, grab the hand and twist it around the stranger’s back, shoving him up against the alley wall.

“I’m sorry!” the man squawked shrilly. “I’m sorry!” It wasn’t Jon.

“What were you doing?” she demanded, not releasing him yet.

“I saw you lean over. I just wanted to see if you were ok!”

She finally drank in the man’s appearance. He was wearing a soft purple sweater vest over a grey button-down, slacks, and worn black converse on his feet.

Confident that he wasn’t a threat, she released him and took a step back.

The man rubbed his elbow softly, glancing at her chest. Before she could tell him off for staring at her rack, he pointed to the sash.

“Is it your birthday?”

She looked down. Oh, he’d been looking at the sash of course. Then why did she feel … disappointed?

“Oh, yeah. Some guy bought me a drink and got a little, er, touchy.”

Suddenly, the man’s face went dark.

“Who is he? Where is he?”

He started to walk back into the club but she stopped him, reaching out and gently grabbing his arm.

“Hey! It’s fine. I kicked him in the crotch.”

The man’s eyes switched from anger to surprise in a flash. He flustered for a moment, before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking back into the alley.

Y/N now took a closer look at his face. He had deep, wise brown eyes, a small five-o-clock shadow gracing his jaw, and very full lips, the latter of which he was biting profusely. Aw. He was nervous. But why?

Maybe because he was in an alley with a random girl who had just been groped at a club and he didn’t know what to do.

She chuckled, attempting to diffuse the tension.

“Um. I didn’t get your name?”

He smiled brightly, thankful for the change in topic.

“Oh! Of course, sorry. I’m Spencer!”

And Y/N braced herself for the telltale outstretching of the hand.

But none came. He simply stood there, one hand in his pocket and the other waving at her, a dopey smile on his face.

Her face lit up. 

“You didn’t try to shake my hand,” she muttered, awed.

The man, Spencer, got an embarrassed look on his face, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I, uh. I’m a bit of a germaphobe. But, really, everyone should be! The amount of germs passed in a handshake is staggering. They really should be abolished altogether.”

“Right! People should just bow their heads or, or, wave!” she said excitedly, gesturing to his hand. “I mean a handshake is like a hug with a part of you that comes in contact with everything! Might as well go up to someone and start making out with them.”

As she spoke, his face lit up in wonder.

“Right? It’s crazy! But the thing is, some people actually do that! I was in that club for fifteen minutes and I swear I saw three couples leave together that definitely didn’t go in together.”

“I know!” she said, starting to pace in the cramped alley. “I mean, who goes home with someone that you just met! They could be a serial killer for all you know!”

She looked at Spencer and was delighted to see a joyful expression on his face. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t introduced herself.

“I’m Y/N. Sorry for blabbering,” she waved, chuckling slightly.

Spencer smiled even wider.

“Don’t be sorry! Usually, I’m the one who has to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?”

“Blabbering,” he said sheepishly, hands back in his pockets. When he was talking, they had been moving about wildly. It was kind of endearing.

“I don’t know,” Y/N said, considering. “Blabbering is underrated. One could argue it’s the best way to learn useless information.”

“Well, I’d agree but no information is really useless.”

Y/N held up a finger.

“‘Information is useless if it is not applied to something important or if you will forget it before you have a chance to apply it.’”

Spencer’s mouth fell open.

“Timothy Harris?”

She nodded. “The 4-Hour Workweek. Outdated, but still applies.”

When she noticed his expression, it nearly knocked her breath away. He was looking at her like no one ever had before. Like he’d just realized the most important thing in the universe.

Before her cowardice could catch up, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them. His face went blank, shocked by the sudden approach. He nearly gasped when she spoke.

“It’s totally ridiculous to go home with someone you just met, right?”

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“Totally.”

“Why were you out tonight in the first place? You don’t exactly seem like the club-going type.”

He smiled softly.

“I, uh, just got a promotion last week. My friend Morgan wanted to take me out to celebrate. It was either this or karaoke.”

She chuckled softly, their faces so close he must have felt her breath.

“I don’t know, I’d have liked to see your rendition of Bad Romance. Has anyone ever told you you’ve got a whole Lady Gaga vibe?”

“You should see my Beyonce.” And he did a little mime of the Single Ladies dance, sending Y/N into a fit of giggles. Without thinking — probably due to the trace amounts of alcohol in her system, not enough to be drunk, but enough to be tipsy — she reached up her arms around his shoulders, clasping them together behind his neck like a teen slow-dancing at prom.

Spencer seemed startled by the sudden physical contact. He froze, hands unmoving at his sides.

Y/N pulled her arms back, stepping away from him, discouraged and embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she said, collecting herself and walking back towards the club door. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Wait!” he called before she could reenter the club. A tiny part of her let out a breath in relief. She turned around to see him with a hand outstretched toward her, frozen with the uncertainty of what to do next.

He recovered quickly, a blush visible on his cheeks in the lamplight of the alley.

“If you’re leaving, would you, um. Could I walk you home?”

She had no idea what possessed her in that moment but just as he spoke, she walked up to Spencer, threaded her fingers through his hair, and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

To her surprise, he responded immediately, running his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against him, eagerly returning the kiss.

His lips were so warm. He tasted very faintly of alcohol and maybe a breath mint? Y/N let herself fall into the sensation.

Suddenly, her back was pressed up against the wall of the alley, Spencer’s hands lighting a trail of fire down her body. He hesitated, pulling back briefly to make sure she was ok.

A glint in her eye, she yanked him back down, tongues clashing together in a blaze of glory. He hiked her leg up around his hips, pressing them closer together. Y/N could feel the hardness in his pants pressing into her stomach, sending a wave of heat down to her core.

She pulled back. If they went any further, she didn’t know if she’d be able to leave the alley.

Y/N tried to hide the smile on her face but it was no use. She beamed at Spencer, linking her arm through his elbow.

“Lead the way. Wait, that doesn’t make sense, you’re taking me home. I’ll lead the way!”

And so they walked, arm in arm down the busy D.C. streets, silently enjoying each other’s company.

They arrived outside her apartment fifteen minutes later, Y/N clumsily unlocking the door, nervous from the thought of what was about to happen. They hadn’t explicitly said anything in particular. Was he going to come in? Would she invite him?

Spencer, it seemed, was also daunted, standing awkwardly on the threshold of her place, hands buried in his pockets.

An idea sprung into Y/N’s brain.

She approached him, wrapping her hands around his neck again only this time, his hands rested lightly on her waist.

“Still think going home with a stranger is a bad idea?”

Spencer chuckled softly, stroking the exposed skin of her waist from where her top had ridden up.

“I’m still debating it.”

“Oh?”

He slid his hand around the sash, fingers hovering above her chest.

“I never asked, how old did you turn?”

She smiled. For some reason, she felt she could trust this man. The worst that could happen was he calls the cops on her for having a fake ID. She could deal with that. Destroy the evidence, bat her eyes. Easy. Besides, he looked barely of age himself. She quickly wondered what he did for a living? He did say he got a promotion.

It would be easiest to just tell him the truth.

“I don’t know if I should tell you this…”

He chuckled lowly in her ear, moving his lips gently across her neck.

“I can handle it.”

She gasped at the sensation, legs clamping together.

“Officially, it’s my twenty-third. At least, that’s what it says on my ID. One of them.”

Spencer froze, waiting for her to go on.

Y/N quickly backtracked.

“It’s okay! I’m twenty! Not a minor, no worries.”

But Spencer pulled away, an extremely worried look on his face despite her assurance.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re underage.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah? Come on, by one year. What, you never had a fake ID?”

“No!” he said shrilly, running a hand through his hair.

“Spencer, it’s ok! It’s not like I’m gonna get caught. I look much older and when are there cops at a place like that?”

He reached into his pocket and fished out a folded wallet. Snapping it open, Y/N’s jaw dropped at the FBI badge with his picture in the corner.

She floundered for a moment, unable to truly comprehend what was happening.

“You’re . . .”

“Yep,” he said shortly, pocketing the badge.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much my reaction too,” he said, sighing. “I should arrest you.”

Y/N took a step back, incredulous.

“Arrest me?”

“You have a fake ID. You’re clearly drunk.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Great idea, Spencer. Book me. Take me down to the FBI and tell them exactly what happened to lead to you finding out I’m only twenty. I’m sure they’ll need very specific details.”

A look of realization flitted across Spencer’s face and he buried his head in his hands, groaning.

“How old are you anyway?!” she demanded, upset at him for being upset.

“Thirty-four!” he shouted, throwing his arms up in the air.

Oh shit.

This was bad.

He was fourteen years older than her, in the FBI, and probably was seconds away from arresting her.

“There’s no way you’re thirty-four. I mean, look at you!”

He rolled his eyes, snorting, and beginning to pace the small hallway.

“This is exactly what I get. I meet a girl I really like for the first time in years and she’s decades younger than me. And a criminal!”

“Hey!” she said, shoving his shoulder. “Not decades. I’m not a criminal. And how the hell do you think I feel?  I’m out trying to have fun on my birthday, some guy gropes me leading me to run into the perfect man, take him back to my apartment thinking I’m gonna get lucky only to find out he’s a cop who’s gonna arrest me. Best birthday ever.”

Spencer eyed her carefully.

“Get lucky?”

Y/N’s eyes went wide. Shit. She hadn’t meant to reveal that part. Even though it was pretty obvious, something about it not being said added to the excitement.

“Did you really . . . I mean were you…. Um.” Spencer seemed to lose all authoritative tone suddenly, stammering nervously. It was such a 180, it shocked Y/N. 

“Was I going to let you fuck me?”

He cringed at the bluntness but nodded sheepishly.

“Yeah, Spencer. I was.” She scoffed. “Honestly, I still would. But I understand if I’m more than you can handle,” she said coyly, trying to keep a straight face. “Just please don’t arrest me, Sir.”

His expression darkened at her words. Something deep and lustful behind it. Feeling bold, she went with it.

“Or is it Agent?” she cocked her head, holding a finger to her lips in thought. “How do I address you properly, sir?”

A small groan left Spencer’s mouth and he stepped forward, brushing a hand over her hair.

“We shouldn’t do this, Y/N…”

Slowly, she backed up into her apartment, pulling him with her.

“We shouldn’t.” She gently led him to her bedroom, sitting down on the edge of the bed, him towering over her. “To be fair, you’re the one with handcuffs.”

He groaned again, wiping a hand down his face.

“This is a bad idea.”

But he crouched down in front of her, pressing his forehead to her exposed knee, breathing deeply.

“Spencer,” it was barely a whisper but he met her eyes instantly. She smiled gently, reaching out to him and coaxing him up from the floor so he was hovering above her, mouths inches apart. “Listen, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” she assured him. “But I want this.”

She leaned back, pulling him with her so he was lying atop her, an obvious bulge pressing against her through their clothing.

“I want this, Spencer.”

Y/N hoped that he knew he could leave if he wanted. She didn’t want to pressure him into anything. Despite the age difference, she seemed to be the one more in control.

Spencer lowered his head, sighing.

“Fuck,” he moaned, lightly thrusting against her, a moan escaping her mouth at the contact.

That seemed to be the last straw.

He sat up, ripping his sweater vest off along with his button-down, quickly moving back over her, lips latching to her neck and chest.

Oh thank god. She wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to stand it if he’d left. But from the way he was touching her, hands moving up and down her sides, gently pulling her skirt down, looking up at her every now and then to make sure it was alright, he wasn’t going anywhere.

She just spurred him on, stripping off her top and bra, now only wearing her panties.

Spencer groaned at the sight, a hand reaching up, hovering over her breast. She arched her back up into his hand, letting out a gasp as he started to fondle her. 

God, his hands were huge. And nimble. Oh, so nimble.

She reached for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tossing it across the room, pushing his pants down faster than possible.

He groaned again, a magical sound, reaching a hand down to stroke her through her panties, coaxing a gasp from her beautiful lips.

In a flash, Spencer had pulled down her panties and buried his head between her legs.

Y/N gasped, hand flying to the back of his head, edging him on.

He slipped two fingers into her, his tongue flicking against her clit wildly, making her writhe and moan on the bed, gasping his name.

“Spencer, Spencer.” It took all the resolve she had to pull his head away from her. “I need you to fuck me.”

Spencer looked at her, trying to read her expression.

“Y/N . . . are you sure?”

Rather than answer, she yanked him up, crashing their mouths together, one hand quickly pushing down his boxers, his erection springing free.

Good god.

Wow.

How the hell was she supposed to fit that inside her?

She looked up at him, impressed, only to see a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Well,” she said, kicking off the panties pooled around her ankles, laid bare underneath the stranger on top of her. “This night gets better by the second.”

His size was a little daunting, but the thought of him slowly filling her up, probably not being able to fit all the way in, only added to her desire.

He dipped his head down, stealing a quick yet passionate kiss.

“Do you have . . ?”

“Yeah, in the drawer.”

He reached over, grabbed a condom, and rolled it on. It looked extremely tight on him. Y/N unconsciously licked her lips. Spencer chuckled.

“Maybe next time. I need to be inside you.”

And with that, he flung her legs around his hips, positioning his cock at her entrance, slowly running it up and down, moistening the condom with her juices.

God. The feeling of him being so close and yet so far was almost enough to push her over the edge right there. He had been a god with his tongue and she was desperate for more friction.

Reaching down, she lightly circled her clit, moaning at the instant pleasure.

Before she could enjoy it much, hands gripped her wrists, pinning them above her on the bed, Spencer staring at her with a dark look.

“If you wanna touch yourself, you have to ask permission. Understood?”

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

Words escaped her so she settled for a small nod.

“Use your words.”

His tone was so commanding the word left her mouth the moment he finished speaking.

“Yes.”

He lightly placed his hand around her neck, not applying any pressure, just hovering.

“Yes, what?”

Fuck. She wondered if it was possible to come just from being talked to.

“Yes, sir.”

And with that, he slid inside her, slowly filling her up with his length, moaning roughly at the sensation.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, watching as Spencer’s face tightened, jawline even sharper, and a dark look in his eye. He carefully applied a bit more pressure to her throat, quickly releasing his hand afterward.

They were both still as she adjusted to the size of him inside her.

“Is this ok?” his voice sounded so different than it had a moment ago. He had shifted back to the geeky guy she’d met in the alley.

She nodded gently at him, running a hand over his cheek in a way that was surely far too personal for a one night stand. 

“My safeword is apple.”

He froze for a moment, shocked. Apparently she was kinkier than he’d expected. 

Tired of not being fucked by this man, she dug her heels into his back, directing him to move.

He did without hesitation, groaning at the sensation of slowly pulling out and thrusting back in. 

The feeling overwhelmed both of them, a litany of curses and moans falling from their mouths. Spencer’s hand moved back to her throat, squeezing much harder now that he knew what to listen for if she wanted to stop.

The sound of her moaning was enough to make him come right there and then. That, with the feeling of her around him and the fact that his hand was around her throat, totally in control.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

Oh my god, where was this coming from? Her nails scraped down his back, leaving a trail of marks.

“You like feeling me fuck you?” he wrapped a hand around her leg, pulling it higher to try to hit the magical spot inside of her. “You like when I wrap my hand around your pretty little neck? Showing you how in control I am of you.”

She nodded ecstatically, legs tightening around him. She was definitely close to coming.

“What were you thinking? Going to a bar when you’re underage. Then leading a stranger to your home, intending to let him fuck you silly. Finding out I’m ages older than you and still practically begging me to bend you over and pound you till you can’t see straight. Is the age difference what gets you off, Y/N?”

At the sound of her name, she let out a raucous moan, no doubt waking up the other tenants of the building.

Spencer smiled, drilling harder and tightening his grip on her throat.

“Oh, you like it when I say your name? You like when I shove my big cock in you and moan your name in your ear?”

She practically screamed as his hand started to circle her clit, the stimulation practically knocking the air out of her.

He was hitting her g-spot with every thrust, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She was so close. She just needed….

“You gonna come for me, Y/N?” he punctuated it with a particularly hard thrust, feeling her begin to clench around him, orgasm washing over her.

Her walls tightening around his cock was enough to send him barreling over the edge, grunting as he thrust in her four more times before feeling his balls tighten up and spill his seed deep inside her.

“Fuck,” he grunted, using his forearms to stay above her, both of them completely out of breath.

Slowly, he pulled out with a sigh, discarding the condom in the trash by her bed.

Y/N was seeing stars. This man had just given her her first penetrative orgasm. And, possibly the best sex she’d ever had.

‘Fuck’, was right.

Spencer flopped down next to her, still naked, trying to catch his breath.

Y/N turned to him, placing a hand on his chest.

It was strange. Even though they’d just had some of the best sex Y/N had ever had, she didn’t even know this man. And yet, somehow, she felt like she did. Did that happen a lot once you had sex with someone?

Her eyes refocused from where they’d been staring off into space to see a concerned Spencer looking at her.

“What?” she asked.

He studied her for another moment before speaking.

“You were biting your lip.”

A blush crept up her cheek.

“Yeah sorry. Helps me think.”

He let out a sharp breath, a sort of soft laugh.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said as he retrieved his underwear, slipping them back on and starting to button up his shirt.

Oh. Was he going to leave? Of course he was! That’s all this was, anyway. A one night stand. You had sex. That was the point.

Then why did it feel like hell?

“You okay?”

Her thoughts had drifted into space again. Spencer had laid back down, now on his side facing her, holding her hand, looking at her intensely. His gaze was practically burning.

“Yeah.”

“I, uh, I don’t normally do . . . that.”

She chuckled. It was rather obvious he wasn’t the hookup type. Despite the dirty things that had come from his mouth.

“Me either.”

He softly stroked her cheek. 

“Are you going to stay?” she blurted.

His face fell.

“Oh, no I wasn’t going to impose if you-”

“NO! I mean,” she took a breath. “I want you to . . . I mean, if you want . . . I'd . . . I’d like you to stay. If you want?”

God. She sounded like a teenager asking their crush to prom. This was no stuttering sophomore she could kick in the crotch if he said no. He was a man. Although, he did tend to stutter. Maybe it wasn’t all that different.

He lit up, a wide smile brightening his features and he began to stroke her hand.

“I’d like that too.”

Wondering if it was possible for cheeks to sprain from smiling, she pulled up the covers, cuddling up against him, falling asleep almost immediately.

~

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Ugh. The stupid alarm. She had been right in the middle of a wonderful dream involving Spencer’s hands and her bruised throat.

What time was it anyway?

The red clock radio proudly displayed: 7:00.

Right, it was the first day of classes. Maybe she’d just ditch and stay in with Spencer. He had been so warm she was sure he had a sun where a heart should be. College didn’t matter anyway, right? Ugh.

A shiver ran through her. She reached out for Spencer, only to find the cold other half of the bed.

Sitting up in bed, she stared at the empty spot.

Had he really walked out on her in the middle of the night? No…. No? Fuck. How could she be so stupid. Of course he didn’t want to-

Oh, he’d left a note.

In a fast yet tidy scrawl, Spencer had left the following message on a little notecard.

Good morning! I am truly sorry to walk out like this, but I have a class at 7:30 and I have to stop by my place and get ready. I’ll be back at the bar tonight, 10:30. I’d love to see you there.

-Spencer. X

Her heart melted into an ocean at the sentiment behind each individual letter. The man she’d just had a dirty one night stand with wanted to see her again.

Wait, he’d said a class? He hadn’t told her he was a student! To be fair, neither had she. That’s another thing they had in common apparently. It made sense why he didn’t tell her. A lot of people were ashamed of going back to college later in life. She thought that was ridiculous. Good for him.

Maybe she could look him up in the student registry. Actually, he may not even go to Georgetown. There were plenty of colleges nearby. She couldn’t have looked him up anyway. She didn’t even know his last name.

It was probably a good thing he left, because she, too, had a class at 7:30.

It only took her twenty minutes to shower, get dressed, and walk the very short distance to campus.

She arrived in the lecture hall with exactly one minute to spare, finding a seat next to a brightly dressed redhead holding a fuzzy pen.

“Hi! I’m Allie.”

“Y/N,” she said, suppressing the cringe as Allie reached out to shake her hand.

“Nice to meet you! What’s your major?”

Oh god. The inevitable college question.

“Journalism. You?”

“English,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Super boring I know, but it lets me take fun classes like this one. Why are you taking this class?”

“Oh, um. It looked fun, I guess. My dad was a lawyer and he kind of piqued my interest in the criminal justice system.”

Allie sighed.

“Thank god. You know half the girls are here just because the Professor is a hottie,” she said with air quotes, rolling her eyes again.

“Really?” Y/N asked, glancing around at the seats noticing the vast majority of the population were women. “Wait, I thought Ms. Merklins was the teacher? Did something change?”

“You didn’t get the email? It just went out the other day, Ms. Merklins had to retire. Something about a club foot. Anyway, the new teacher is supposedly super overqualified. Plus, he’s cute.”

“Huh.”

“Yep. I talked to this one girl in the hall, she actually said she’d sleep with him! Can you imagine?”

Y/N laughed.

“Nooooo. I cannot and I don’t want to. I’m just here to learn, I promise.”

“Same here. Although, if I start getting C’s, all bets are off.”

Y/N laughed and politely chatted with Allie while they waited.

The Professor’s office door swung open and Y/N reached into her bag to get her laptop.

“Hello, class.”

“Hello,” the class echoed.

“Welcome to Criminology. I am Professor Reid and I-.”

Y/N looked up over her screen as he stopped talking, making sudden eye-contact with the Professor.

She froze in her seat, blood running cold.

No way. No fucking way.

Spencer?

~

TAGLIST

~

@whollytaciturn​ @101donuts​ @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss @happyiidiot @cielo1984 @thupidalethea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid @aloha-ashley-taylor @justchiara-02 @spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin @matthewreid

[ivyyreid]

stars in your eyes

2 description: reader is tortured, spencer tries and save her.

category: definetly angst, maybe a teeny tiny bit of fluff?

tw: death, mentions of cuts, burns, kidnapping, words like ‘whore’, knives.

masterlist

spencer’s pov:

the team sits around the table, at the sacramento police department conference room. well, everyone but y/n. y/n is also the reason the team is in the conference room. 

while the team was tracking down an unsub, y/n was kidnapped, drugged, and taken to who knows where. 

at 27, she’s the youngest member of the team so everyone is protective of her. but it’s not just because of her age. it’s because she’s just herself. funny, sarcastic, bubbly, bold, gorgeous, and affectionate. even her flaws are lovable.

we all sit at the round table, discussing where she could be. the only thing we know, is that she was taken as leverage, or as a warning. all our other theories on where she could be are a bit too far-fetched.

our unsub is a woman named coleen robbins. she’s been kidnapping, torturing, and killing girls in their 20s who resemble the girl her boyfriend cheated on her with. y/n fit the description exactly. y/h/c hair, y/e/c eyes, and freckles. we didn’t notice until it was too late.

garcia's been on facetime with us for the past two hours, helping us trace pointless leads, or trying her best to track coleen. none of our efforts are working though. y/n’s phone is off, and coleen hasn’t used her credit card or anything. we’re at a loss.

hotch is pacing back and forth by the whiteboard, rossi is staring out the window, emily and jj are looking at every other victim’s file together, derek has his head in his hands, and I’m just sitting here. This is one of the only times where my brain is of no use to the team. 

“hey guys?” Garcia’s voice is wobbly, somethings wrong. “i just got emailed a link. you’re gonna want to see this. i’m sending it to you now.” i’m racking my brain trying to think of what the link could be. i have nothing. that is, until a live feed pops up on the television. everyone gasps, and i feel all the blood rush from my face.

y/n is tied to a chair, in the middle of a dark room. there are burns, cuts and bruises all over her body. coleen stands behind her, twisting a knife in between her fingers. 

“oh my god,” hotch mutters, and everyone else just stares at the television in stunned silence. “go on, you little whore. say your goodbyes,” coleen’s icy voice slips through the speakers in the room, and I hold back the urge to punch the tv screen.

y/n looks up, her face illuminated by a single light bulb. she smiles weakly. she’s the only person I know who would focus on others feelings in a situation like this. 

“hey guys,” she says, her voice wobbling a bit. for some reason she’s smiling a bit. “i wish i could say bye in person, but this is the best i can do i guess,” she laughs weakly, and plays with her fingers; her nervous habit. 

“rossi,” she starts, and he looks up at the screen, his eyes brimming with tears. “oh my god I’m going to miss you so much. you’re the only person I know who brings instant pasta in their suitcase, and you can always make me smile. just, keep being yourself, don’t change.”

“hotch, you’re like the strict, loving father I never had” her voice breaks, and she laughs a bit. no one else does. “you were always there for me, for my first dead body, my first case, everything. you’re the reason that i didn’t quit after my first case. you helped me get through it, and you can always keep me on track. i’ll miss you so much.” hotch tries to maintain a normal, serious expression but I can see the pain in his eyes. 

“emily, you’re so funny and sarcastic and beautiful and amazing. i’m always wishing i knew more about you, you’re just so interesting! i still can’t tell if you were joking when you said you worked at a strip club or not,” a tear spills out of Emilys eye, and she mumbles something to the tv screen. “i love you endlessly, please please never change,” y/n says, and i see her blink away a tear or two through the screen. 

“penelope, you’re probably one of the most unique, amazing people i’ve ever met. i remember on my first day i was so scared and nervous, and you just gave me a huge hug when i walked in, and I knew everything would be fine. i love your hair, and your outfits, and the way you greet the phone. i love you so much, never ever change or I will rise from the dead and perform some satanistic ritual on you” I hear penelope cry through the facetime video.

“derek. you’re just so great, and it will always amaze me how you always have a girl on your arm. i loved every second of getting drunk with you, even when you would force me to do karaoke. please do me a favor and marry penelope.” derek puts his hand on his head, and stays silent. i can see the emotion on his face.

“and jj, I don’t know how to thank you for being my first real best friend. i never really had people i could trust, but then i met you and i knew, i knew we would be friends until the end. you’re so gorgeous, i’ve spent hours wishing i was you. i’ll miss our saturday girl’s breakfasts, and our movie nights, and even you calling me at four am to say we have a case. love you forever.”

jj sobs, but everyone else is too upset to comfort her. i know it’s my turn for the goodbyes. but i can’t do it. i want to run out of the room, punch a wall, i can’t do this. i can’t watch her say bye to me, while i think about everything i never said, everything i should have said. i should have said it when we sat on the roof and watched the stars. i should have said it when we sat in the car and ate ice cream and listened to 90s music. i should have said it everytime we sat in the cafe and drank coffee with way too much sugar. i should have said it. but i didn’t. and now it’s too late.

“spencer.” y/n’s voice comes in through the tv, and i bring myself to look up. she has a sad smile on her face, and she’s holding back tears. “spencer, my best friend. not even my best friend. best friend was just too generic, you were so much more than a best friend. we were the type of people who would look at the stars together, and talk about constellations, and the theory of the universe together. we were the type of people who would come over to each others apartments at three am and watch movies or lay in bed and stare at each other and just talk. we were the type of people who would sit in the parked car, eating ice cream and forcing each other to listen to nineties music or beethoven. we would sit together in the police department for hours, drinking coffee to keep us awake while we tried to solve a case. we would laugh at each others jokes that no one else understood, and compare our opinions on classic novels. i remember the first day i met you, when i spilled coffee all over you in the elevator, and you told me this crazy fact about how meeting someone for the first time when you’re embarrassed strengthens a relationship. and then i remember i took you out for coffee because i felt bad, and then you accidentally spilled it on me. i remember getting home and laughing for hours. we were the type of people who were happier when we were with each other. and whatever star I was born under, you were born under it too. we’re not best friends spencer, we’re soulmates. and...and....I love you.” her voice breaks, and she looks at the camera with a nostalgic face, like she’s already gone. 

i cry, i can’t help it. i just want to scream, ‘i love you too!’. i want her to hear me. but it’s too late. it will always be too late. 

-------------------------------------------

we’re all in the suvs. coleen gave us her location. i know i should be rejoicing, but it was what she said after she gave it. ‘now you’ll be able to watch her die.’ I yell at morgan to go faster, even though deep down i know he’s doing everything he can.

‘now you’ll be able to watch her die.’

after what feels like an eternity, we pull up to a small shed. everyone jumps out of the van, vests on, guns and flashlights in their hands. morgan kicks down the door, and we all run in. i hear hotch yell that he has coleen, but i don’t care. i need to find y/n. i run from room to room, panicking, until I reach a small porch at the back of the house. and y/n’s there.

she always seemed so large in life, but now, nearing her death, she seems so small. like a little girl. i hold back tears, i have to be strong for her. she’s lightly breathing, and watching the sky. when I reach her, i sit down, and cradle her head in my lap. 

“i wanted to see the stars,” she whispered, and i nod, watching her face.

“remember that day…. that day in the park?” she says, tilting her head to look up at me. 

of course i do. we had just gotten back from a long case, and y/n had me come to the park with her, to watch the sunset. we laid down in the grass, and watched the sky. i was still struggling with the case, and i was telling her about how awful it was, when she grabbed my hand, and pointed at the sky. look at how beautiful the world is, she had said. without hard cases, and ugliness, we wouldn’t be able to appreciate this. we wouldn’t be able to appreciate the beauty of everything, she told me, and I remember I had just stayed silent, watching the angelic-looking girl.

“of course,” I say, and she smiles up at me, blood dripping down her face. 

“remember how pretty the sunset was? how beautiful everything was? you have to remember the beauty of that day, spencer. the sky was glowing, and trees were rustling, and birds were singing. the earth is beautiful. that was the day I knew i loved you. when I held your hand, and we just looked at the sky.” she brings a hand up, and touches my face gently. of course she’s the one who’s comforting me when she’s dying. i stay silent, cradling her head, and stroking her hair. she looks at me again, and i see pain in her eyes. “i don’t want to die, spencer” y/n whispers, her voice breaking a bit, “i don’t want to die like this. i don’t want to die, spence” a tear slips down her cheek, and i notice i’m crying a bit. “hey, hey, shhhhh” i comfort, wiping the tear off her face. she stares back at the stars. this is my chance to tell her. i know she’s going to die, and it’s completely pointless because she already knows, but I have to. 

“i love you, y/n. i love you so much. i’ve loved you, and i don’t want you to go”. the girl turns and looks at me, a sad smile on her face. “i know, spence. and i love you too. so much”. I stroke her hair, wishing I could kiss her but i can’t. she looks at my red eyes, and my tear stained cheeks, and starts humming. humming a song. our favorite song. my head fills the lyrics in. 

you’re a part time lover, and a full time friend.

the monkey on your back is the latest trend,

i don’t see what anyone can see, 

in anyone else.

i kiss you on the brain in the shadow of the train,

i kiss you all starry eyed my bodies swayin’ from side to side

i don’t see what anyone can see,

in anyone else, but you.

here is the church, and here is the steeple, 

we sure are cute for two ugly people,

i don’t see what anyone can see, in anyone else.

suddenly, she stops and turns and looks at me, and suddenly i realize this is it. “i can see the stars in your eyes, spence” she whispers, and i watch as the breath leaves her body. the way she sadly smiled, before her eyes glazed over to look at the sky, the way her lips parted. and it’s kind of beautiful. but there was something sad and terrible about it too. because it was death. 

i can see the stars in your eyes, spencer.

[thewidowsghost]

Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 1

So, I started this on my Wattpad, and if figured I'd just put it on here! Just tell me if you want me to add you to the taglist!

Percy's POV

My name is Percy Jackson.

I am twelve years old. I'm a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York, and my sister, (Y/n), taking online schooling at home.

Am I a troubled kid?

Yeah. You could say that.

I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan—twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

I know—it sounds like torture. Most Yancy field trips were.

But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes.

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.

I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble.

See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course, I got expelled anyway. And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that...Well, you get the idea.

On this trip, I was determined to be good.

All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwiches that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her because I was already on probation. The headmaster had threatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.

"I'm going to kill her," I mumble.

Grover tries to calm me down. "I'm okay. I like peanut butter -" He dodges another piece of Nancy's lunch.

"That's it." I start to get up, but Grover pulls me back to my seat.

"You're already on probation," he reminds me. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

Mr. Brunner leads the museum tour.

He rides up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It blows my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.

He gathers us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and starts telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.

Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.

From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured I was devil spawn. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.

One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."

Mr. Brunner keeps talking about Greek funeral art.

Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickers something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turn around and say, "Will you shut up?"

It comes out louder than I meant it to.

The whole group laughs. Mr. Brunner stops his story. "Mr. Jackson," he says, "did you have a comment?"

My face is totally red, I think. I answer, "No, sir."

Mr. Brunner points to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

I look at the carving, and feel a flush of relief, because I actually recognize it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Brunner says, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because..."

"Well..." I rack my brain to remember. (Y/n) would have known the answer. She was nuts for this kind of stuff. "Kronos was the king god, and —"

"God?" Mr. Brunner asks.

"Titan," I correct myself. "And...he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—"

"Eeew!" says one of the girls behind me.

"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," I continue, "and the gods won."

Some snickers from the group.

Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbles to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner says, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover mutters.

"Shut up," Nancy hisses, her face even brighter red than her hair.

At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.

I think about his question, and shrug. "I don't know, sir."

"I see." Mr. Brunner looks disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifts off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.

Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."

I knew that was coming.

I tell Grover to keep going; then I turn toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?" Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go—intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything. "You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner tells me.

"About the Titans?"

'"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."

"Oh."

"What you learn from me," he says, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."

I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!" and challenged us, swordpoint against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C– in my life. No—he didn't expect me to be as good; he expected me to be better. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.

I mumble something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner takes one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral.

He tells me to go outside and eat my lunch.

The class gathers on the front steps of the museum, where we can watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a huge storm is brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figure maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.

Nobody else seems to notice, though. Some of the guys are pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit is trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds isn't seeing a thing.

Grover and I sit on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," I said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean—I'm not a genius, not like (Y/n). She seems to know everything."

Grover doesn't say anything for a while. Then, when I think he is going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he asks, "Can I have your apple?"

I don't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it.

I watch the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and think about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sit. I hadn't seen her or my sister since Christmas. I want so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. Mom and (Y/n) would hug me and be glad to see me, but Mom would be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I couldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.

Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized café table.

I am about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appears in front of me with her ugly friends—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumps her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.

"Oops." She grins at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles are orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.

I try to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I am so mad my mind went blank. A wave roars in my ears.

I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy is sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"

"—the water—"

"—like it grabbed her—"

I don't know what they were talking about. All I know is that I was in trouble again.

As soon as Mrs. Dodds is sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turns on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—"

"I know," I grumble. "A month erasing workbooks." That wasn't the right thing to say.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds says.

"Wait!" Grover yelps. "It was me. I pushed her."

I stare at him, stunned. I can't believe he was trying to cover for me. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death.

She glares at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she says.

"But—"

"You—will—stay—here."

Grover looks at me desperately.

"It's okay, man," I tell him. "Thanks for trying."

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barks at me. "Now."

Nancy Bobofit smirks. I give her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. Then I turn to face Mrs. Dodds, but she isn't there. She is standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.

How'd she get there so fast?

I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.

I wasn't so sure. I go after Mrs. Dodds.

Halfway up the steps, I glance back at Grover. He is looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner is absorbed in his novel.

I look back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She is now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

Okay, I think. She's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop.

But apparently, that wasn't the plan.

I follow her deeper into the museum. When I finally catch up to her, we are back in the Greek and Roman section.

Except for us, the gallery is empty.

Mrs. Dodds stands with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She is making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.

Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze as if she wanted to pulverize it...

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she says.

I do the safe thing. I reply, "Yes, ma'am."

She tugs on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"

The look in her eyes is beyond mad. It was evil.

She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me. I say, "I'll—I'll try harder, ma'am."

Thunder shakes the building.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."

I didn't know what she's talking about.

All I can think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.

"Well?" she demands.

"Ma'am, I don't..."

"Your time is up," she hisses.

Then the weirdest thing happens. Her eyes begin to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretch, turning into talons. Her jacket melts into large, leathery wings. She isn't human. She is a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.

Then things got even stranger.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheels his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouts and tosses the pen through the air.

Mrs. Dodds lunges at me.

With a yelp, I dodge and feel talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatch the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hits my hand, it isn;t a pen anymore. It is a sword—Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always uses on tournament day.

Mrs. Dodds spins towards me with a murderous look in her eyes.

My knees are jelly. My hands are shaking so bad I almost drop the sword.

She snarl, "Die, honey!" And she flies straight at me.

Absolute terror runs through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swing the sword.

The metal blade hits her shoulder and passes clean through her body as if she was made of water. Hisss!

Mrs. Dodds was a sandcastle in a power fan. She explodes into yellow powder, vaporizing on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes are still watching me.

I'm alone.

There is a ballpoint pen in my hand.

Mr. Brunner isn't there. Nobody is there but me.

My hands are still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.

Had I imagined the whole thing?

I walk back outside.

It had started to rain.

Grover is sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit is still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she sees me, she says, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

I answer, "Who?"

"Our teacher. Duh!"

I blink. We don't have a teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I ask Nancy what she is talking about.

She just rolls her eyes and turns away.

I ask Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.

"Who?" he asks, but he pauses first and he wouldn't look at me, so I figure he was messing with me.

"Not funny, man," I tell him. "This is serious."

Thunder booms overhead.

I see Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book as if he'd never moved.

I go over to him.

He looks up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."

I had Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.

"Sir," I ask, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stares blankly at me, "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."

He frowns and sits forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

Word Count: 3159 words

So yeah, this is the first chapter of this book.

Not much (Y/n) yet, but we'll get there.

Love y'all!              Kaitlynn ❤️😍

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Plant Your Hope With Good Seeds

Dukeceit Week Day 3: Snakes/Bugs

Remus and Janus break up. But literally everyone knows that's not what they want. Everyone, including their plants.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 4337

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

-

Unknown Number

hey so i kno i said i wouldnt text u but rupert isnt doin good. can i bring him back? he misses u

Janus stared at the text for several minutes. Rupert was, of course, the Monstera Variegata that he and Remus had raised together all the way from propagation. It had been one of the pride and joys of their plant collection. Losing Rupert in the split had hurt almost as much as losing Remus.

...Almost. 

Janus

Is it getting enough light? Remember it needed the grow light even next to the window. 

Janus texted back against his better judgement. He and Remus were broken up. They’d agreed not to text for a while. They’d agreed to give each other space, get used to being apart. 

It sucked, though. The apartment felt empty without Remus and half their plant collection.

Unknown Number

ya i kno. but i don’t have any south facign windows here. our place is better

Unknown Number

i mean ur place

Janus sighed morosely. Well, if it was for Rupert…

Janus

Fine. Rupert can come back.

Unknown Number

yay! ill be in town this weekend. ill bring him ok?

Janus

Ok.

And then Janus promptly threw his phone across the room.

Because here’s the thing. Janus and Remus were broken up. Remus had moved eight hours away and everything. He’d been accepted into the Nuclear Engineering graduate program a state away, and they had both heard too many horror stories about long-distance relationships to brother trying. So they’d had a very civil and mutual split. Janus kept the apartment. Remus took the TV. And they’d divided their plant family between them: they each kept their favorites, and Remus had taken the hardier plants, while Janus kept the ones that were likely not to survive an interstate move.

And then… Remus left.

And Janus had not immediately wanted him back. Not at all.

(And, of course, Janus was lying to himself.)

Remus texted him Saturday morning that he was on his way, and Janus spent the first few hours of the wait stress-cleaning. He then checked on every single plant in the apartment. Watered the ones that needed it. Rotated some of the more vivacious growers so that they wouldn’t lean full-body toward their light source. Moved his small army of Sansevierias out to the apartment balcony for some extra sun.   

Then, when all that still failed to fill up the entire eight hours of waiting, he started stress-cooking. So by the time Remus texted that he’d just gotten off the highway, Janus had himself a pot of minestrone soup simmering on the stove, a tray of made-from-scratch lasagna in the oven, and was mixing up a batch of double chocolate chip cookies. 

There was no way he was going to eat all this food himself, he realized. He was so used to booking big meals like this, because Remus ate like he was three people. And lasagna was his favorite.

“Oh, Jake, what am I doing?” he groaned to the N’Joy Pothos that cascaded down the side of the refrigerator. And then his doorbell rang. 

Janus opened the door to find Remus, dancing awkwardly from foot to foot, with his face half-hidden behind the green-and-white leaves of Rupert. 

“...Hey,” Remus said, sounding sheepish. Janus’ heart clenched.

“Hi,” he said. They stood there in the doorway for a full minute before Janus stepped back and motioned for Remus to follow. Remus hesitated, but obeyed. 

“Uh… I’ll just…” Remus looked around. Janus hated how uncomfortable he looked. Until about two weeks ago, this had been Remus’ apartment, too. “Can I put him in his old spot?”

“Sure,” Janus replied with a nod. Rupert’s old spot had been in the bedroom, where the big, beautiful south-facing window let in a ton of light. He’d moved Venus de Milos, his Marble Queen Pothos, and La Hoya Jackson, the finicky Hoya Carnosa that Remus had wanted but didn’t expect to make the 8-hour drive without going into shock, to free up Rupert’s spot. Remus hesitated again, before he nodded awkwardly and wandered off to the bedroom, all three feet of plant and two gallons of soil in tow. Janus went to the oven and took out the lasagna. 

“Howl looks good,” Remus said when he came back into the kitchen. Janus glanced up from where he was laying balls of cookie dough out onto baking sheets. 

“Thank you,” he replied. Howl was their dramatic fiddle leaf fig tree, which had decided to throw a fit just before Remus left. “I switched it to a terracotta pot with peat moss and pearlite, and doubled its water intake. It seems to be tolerating it well.”

“Good.” There was a long pause. Then,” How are you?”

Janus looked back to the cookies. “I’m doing well,” he lied. “And you? Do you start class soon?”

“Next week,” Remus answered. “And, uh. Yeah, I’m doin’ good.” Another long pause. “Uh… I’ll just. Head out, I guess.”

“You could stay,” Janus blurted out. Shit. “For dinner, I mean.” He gestured to the tray of lasagna, fresh from the oven. “If you want.”

Remus gave him an uncharacteristically shy smile, then nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything, though, so Janus just gestured for him to take a seat at the table. And then he joined him, a plate of lasagna for each of them.

“So tell me, how’s living with Roman again?” Janus asked, a few bites into the meal, because he could not take the awkward silence a moment longer.

“It’s ok,” Remus answered. He shoveled another forkful of lasagna into his mouth. “This is really good, Jan.”

Janus smiled softly. “Thank you.” A pause. “Roman doesn’t mind all the plants?”

“Nah, he’s dating this guy Patton who apparently loves plants, so the apartment being full of houseplants is a huge plus to him now.”

“Good for him.” The oven timer went off, startling him slightly. He started to get up, but Remus waved him off.

“I got ‘em, you did all the cooking.”

Janus didn’t protest. Remus got up and took the cookies out of the oven. And he even moved them to a cooling rack like Janus had taught him to do. He came back to the table. 

“How’s work?”

Janus sighed. “Oh, terrible as always,” he answered. “I really must start looking for a new job.”

“Finally getting fed up?” Remus teased. Janus rolled his eyes. More seriously, Remus continued, “You deserve better, Jan. You gotta find some place that treats you right and pays you what you’re worth.”

“Thank you, Remus.”

“And hey, just sayin’, I still think you’d make an excellent stripper.”

Janus snorted at that. “I haven’t fully ruled out that particular career change.”

They fell easily back into their usual banter, lingering late into the night over a dessert of milk and cookies. It was pushing 10pm when Remus glanced at his phone and cursed softly. Janus glanced at his phone as well.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so late,” he said. Remus shrugged.

“Nah, it’s cool. Thanks for dinner, Jan. It was real good, as always.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Uh… well, the plan was to stay with Logan, but I guess he had some kind of family emergency, so I don’t wanna trouble him. I’ll probably see if I can find a hotel room.”

Janus’ brow furrowed at that. “Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Oh, uh. I don’t wanna trouble you. I kinda feel like I already overstayed my welcome a bit?”

“Nonsense. A hotel room will cost you at least $100 for the night, and that’s simply ridiculous,” Janus insisted. “You should just stay here.”

Remus worried at his lip, which Janus knew meant he was mulling over his options. Then, he nodded. “If it’s not a bother?”

“Of course not. You’re not a bother, Remus.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and he smiled. “Ok. Thank you. Oh… lemmie go get my overnight back outta my truck.”

When Remus came back inside, Janus had just about finished making up the couch. 

“Hey, you don’t gotta get all fancy,” Remus teased. “You know I can sleep basically anywhere.”

“This is for me,” Janus replied. He fluffed up one of the pillows a bit more. “You take the bed.”

An odd look flashed across Remus’ face. “No way, Jan. I’m good on the couch.”

“Remus, you just drove eight hours, and you’re doing it again tomorrow. I am not letting you fuck up your back.”

‘I don’t-”

“Yes you do, no matter how often you say you can sleep anywhere,” Janus scoffed. “You can’t lie to me.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and after a moment, he sighed. “Ok, Jan. But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You hate sleeping on couches.”

“It’s only one night-”

“And don’t you work tomorrow?”

“Yes, but-”

“You’re going to be so grumpy at work without a proper night’s sleep.”

“I’m usually grumpy at work anyway,” Janus pointed out. Remus snorted.

“Ok, that’s true. But I don’t want you to be even grumpier,” he said. “Let’s just share the bed.”

Janus eyed him for a moment. This was a terrible idea. They should not do this.

“Ok,” Janus said anyway.

They got ready for bed in awkward silence, which just made Janus miss Remus’ long, rambling chatter that much more. When Janus finished in the bathroom, he found Remus sitting gingerly on what used to be his side of the bed. Janus came over and sat down on the other side.

“Hey, uh… thanks,” Remus said. “For lettin’ me stay.”

“Of course,” Janus answered. “I… I still think of you as a friend, Remus.”

At that. Remus grimaced slightly. He didn’t say anything, seeming unable to find the right words. Before he could, Janus pulled back the top blankets on the bed and laid down. After a moment, Remus did the same.

“Good night, Remus,” Janus said quietly.

“...Good night, Janus,” Remus answered. Then he reached over and shut off the light.

-

Remus played that night over and over in his head in the days after he got home, and each and every time, he was just as stumped. 

He knew, in his brain, why he and Janus had broken up. It had been the only thing that made sense at the time, when the facts were just that Remus was moving away to pursue a lifelong dream, and Janus would never ever try to stop him from doing so. So they broke up. It made sense… right? 

But… That morning, he’d woken up to Janus curled up in his arms, face smushed against Remus’ neck, and… Remus had completely forgotten why they had even broken up in the first place.

Remus was back at Roman’s apartment, now. Eight hours away in his own cold bed, arms empty of the man he loved, just staring at the ceiling. A sharp knock on his door snapped him out of his daze.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” Roman called. “Don’t you have class in like an hour?”

“Fuck!” Remus scrambled to get up, but succeeded only in rolling out of the bed.

“Don’t forget to lock the door when you leave,” Roman added. Clearly he was unconcerned by the loud “thump” of a body hitting the floor. 

“Yup, got it,” Remus groaned in reply. He staggered, successfully this time, to his feet. 

Getting dressed was a rushed affair of ‘grab whatever’s closest,’ and soon he emerged from the bedroom with one shoe on, the other in his hand, and his backpack slung over one shoulder. He rushed into the kitchen to grab the travel mug of coffee Janus always set out for him in the mornings. And then the realization hit: Janus didn’t live here.

Remus dropped his shoe. 

The rest of the day went about as well as it could have gone without any coffee- that is to say, terribly. He got lost trying to get to campus, then he got lost again trying to get to class. Then he got stuck in traffic on the way back to Roman’s apartment. And then, to top it all off, the grocery store had been out of his favorite chips. 

So here he was, mopey and chip-less, and fucking exhausted. He dumped his backpack and collapsed face-first onto the couch. Roman, who happened to be sitting on said couch, made a noise of protest.

“Move, I need to sulk,” Remus mumbled, though his voice was thoroughly muffled by Roman’s thigh, since that was where his face had landed. 

“What on earth do you need to sulk for?” Roman asked incredulously. He moved to shove Remus off of him, but Remus went full ragdoll, and Roman couldn’t do a damn thing. “You are a grown man, you know.”

Remus turned his head just enough to stick his tongue out at Roman. Roman stuck his tongue out back.

“I had a terrible day, I earned a good sulk.”

“Didn’t like your classes?”

“Nah, they were great.”

“Professors?”

“Great.”

“Classmates?”

“Great.”

“Then Zeus Almighty, what are you so mopey-dopey about?” Roman remanded.

Remus squirmed around so he was laying on his back, head still in Roman’s lap, to look up at his brother. “So… uh… you promise not to get all, like. I told you so and shit?” 

“You miss Janus!”

“No! I-”

“You do!” Roman crowed triumphantly. Remus rolled onto his side so he didn’t have to look at his brother’s dumb gloaty face.

“...Maybe,” he groaned. Abruptly, he clamored to his feet and started for the stairs. “I gotta go build a chair.”

“Carpentry won’t solve your relationship problems,” Roman called after him.

“I know,” Remus called back. “Wrong type of wood.” If Roman had a response to that, Remus was already out the door and didn’t have to hear it. 

Patton found him out in front of the apartment building some time later, a jigsaw in hand, and a pile of cut wooden dowels at his feet.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you up to?”

Remus looked up from where he was balancing a plank of wood precariously across a milk crate, because his work table was one of the things he’d had to leave behind at Janus’ place.

“Oh, hey. Ro-bro’s upstairs.”

Patton gave him the sort of smile teachers gave to the kid they caught eating glue for the fourth time. “That doesn’t look super safe. Do you want any help?”

Remus took in Patton’s soft blue sweater and the dad-jeans from the nicer end of his closet, as well as the reusable grocery store bag that smelled suspiciously like some kind of lovely home-cooked meal; he shook his head. “You look dressed for a date night,” he said. “I don’t wanna fuck up two relationships this week.”

Patton’s eyes, impossibly, got even bigger and softer than they normally were, which honestly was quite the feat. He walked over to the stairs but, instead of making his way up to Roman’s apartment, he plopped down on the third step, facing Remus. Remus stared, bewildered.

“Uh, what’chu doin’ there, pops?”

“Well, it just sounded like you needed to talk,” Patton replied cheerfully. “So here I am.”

Remus stared a moment longer, somehow even more bewildered than before. “Uh…”

“I know I haven’t known you very long,” Patton continued. “But something tells me you’re the type of person who busts out the power tools when you’re upset.”

“How the hell can you tell that?”

Patton glanced over his shoulder, then leaned forward slightly. “Because,” he said, voice lowered conspiratorially. “I’m like that too.”

Remus blinked. “You?”

“Yup! I replaced all the tables and chairs in my house with ones I made myself after my last breakup,” Patton giggled. “Only two of them collapsed when I sat in them, too!”

Remus glanced down at the jigsaw in his hands, and then he sighed. He set it down, and went to sit next to Patton on the steps. 

“Ok, well. Yeah, maybe I’m kinda upset.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah? No? Maybe?”

“Yup, those are your three options!” Patton teased. Remus rolled his eyes.

“Ok, fine. You win, daddy-o. I’m upset because I miss my boyfriend. Or, well, my ex-boyfriend. I want him to be my boyfriend again.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Of course not,” Remus whined.

“Why not?”

“Because… I mean. It wouldn’t change anything. I still moved away. And I don’t even know if he’d want to be my boyfriend again either. Maybe he’s happier now.”

“You don’t know that,” Patton said gently. “Sure, maybe the circumstances aren’t the best right now, but if you both want it, things have a funny way of working out. But you have to talk to him.”

“I…” Remus paused. And then he sighed deeply. “I guess you’re right. Hey thanks, that did actually sorta help.”

Patton offered him a gentle smile. “Of course, Remus! Any time!”

“Hey!”

They both turned to see Roman standing at the top of the stairs, arms crossed.

“My own brother, hogging my boyfriend like this! The betrayal-”

“Relax, Ro, he’s not my type,” Remus shot back. “I prefer sarcastic little menaces.”

Patton giggled at that. He stood up and patted Remus on the shoulder. “I hope things work out,” he said. Remus smiled back.

“Yeah, I hope so too.”

Really, he just wanted Janus to be happy. Ideally with him, but if Janus was happier without him, well… so be it. 

- - -

Janus was miserable. 

“Dude, c’mon,” Virgil grumbled, immediately upon seeing the state of the apartment. “You’ve been watering your plants and filling the humidifiers, but you can’t be bothered to throw out your gross pizza boxes?” A pause. “Wait, you don’t even like pizza, what the hell.”

Janus just shrugged. After letting Virgil and Logan into the apartment, he’d gone straight back into blanket-burrito-on-the-couch mode. And really, he’d only bothered to get up and let them inside in the first place because Virgil had threatened to axe down the door- and Janus knew for a fact that Virgil owned multiple axes. 

“I believe he is engaging in what is described as ‘emotional eating,’ or using food as a coping mechanism in a time of stress and emotional turmoil,” Logan said helpfully. Virgil just huffed.

“That’s fine and all, but Jesus Christ, dude.” He gestured around the livingroom where… ok, yeah, it was a mess.

“Did you two come here just to insult me?” Janus grumbled. His face was half-mashed into a pillow, though, so who knows how much of that was actually discernible.

“We came to make sure you were still alive,” Virgil snapped, indicating that at least most of what Janus had said was discernible. “You weren’t answering any texts.”

“Yes, and you called out of work three days in a row,” Logan added. “We are concerned for you, Janus.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Janus lied from the comfort of his depression blanket burrito. He was not particularly surprised when neither Virgil or Logan looked even remotely convinced.

“Alright, drastic measure time,” Virgil growled. He walked over to the window, and picked up the young Burgundy Rubber Tree Janus had yet to name. Janus sat bolt upright. 

“Virgil? Don’t you dare-”

Virgil walked past him and vanished down the hall. When he came back, his hands were empty, and he had a smirk on his face.

“Oh, fuck you,” Janus hissed. He dragged himself up off the couch to go rescue the poor thing, finding it stashed in the dark, windowless bathroom. When he came back to the livingroom, Virgil and Logan were sprawled across the couch.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Janus set the rubber tree back on the windowsill alongside the Snake Plant Army. “Ok, I’m up. Are you heathens happy now?”

“I take offense to that,” Logan muttered, while Virgil just crossed his arms and said, curtly, “Spill it.”

“Spill what?”

“Why are you so upset?”

“I’m not upset-”

“Falsehood,” Logan interrupted. “I have known you since high school, Janus, and I have never seen you like this before. It is highly alarming.”

“Is this about Remus?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Janus said immediately. “Of course not.”

Virgil and Logan exchanged a Look. Janus groaned.

“Fuck. Ok, fine. Maybe it is.”

“Was that so hard?” Virgil asked. 

“Yes.”

“You-”

“Janus,” Logan interrupted Virgil’s retort. “It is my understanding that emotional distress is often alleviated through, as they say, ‘talking it out.’ It is clear you are not handling the break-up as well as you initially believed-”

“Of course I’m not!” Janus snapped. He took a deep breath, and turned back to the plants on his windowsill. Kaa, the Sansevieria Moonshine Remus had gotten for Janus as an anniversary present last year, was already leaning slightly toward the window again. He rotated it, and a few of the other snake plants on the sill. And then he realized the others had been quiet for far too long. He turned to find them both watching him with sympathetic expressions. “What?”

“Keep going,” Virgil prompted. Janus sighed. He felt exhausted.

“Of course I’m not,” he said again. “Because I love Remus.”

“And?” Virgil prompted.

“...And I didn’t want us to break up,” he finished, feeling glum. Wordlessly, Virgil stood up, and approached Janus, arms out. Janus stepped into the embrace. Nobody said anything; Janus didn’t cry, but he stood there for a long time. Then, he stepped back.

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it. Virgil gave him a small smile. Logan cocked his head, seeming confused.

“I don’t understand. You just… needed a hug?”

“Hugs are great, Logan,” Virgil replied. “You should try them sometime- hey, where are you going?”

Janus strode past them both, beelining for his bedroom to find his laptop. Over his shoulder, he answered, “To fill out some job applications.”

- - -

Remus was outside building a new bookshelf- because Patton was moving in, and Roman's teenie-tiny sad little excuse for a bookshelf, which held only Disney DVDs and no actual books, wouldn’t suffice for all of Patton’s cookbooks- when his phone rang. Which was weird, because nobody ever called him, because he never fucking answered.

“Not interested, Mr. Spam Man,” he crooned over the sound of the generic iPhone ringtone. He was learning how to do kerf bending for this bookcase, and goddamn it he wasn’t going to be distracted by-

His phone started ringing again. He swore and ripped off his gloves to silence his phone. But as he did so, he realized the number flashing across his screen was a familiar one. 

“Janus? Are you ok?” he answered the call, half panicked, because Janus hated phone calls almost as much as he did.

“Hi. Yes, everything’s fine.” Janus sounded slightly hysterical, which made Remus feel even more frantic. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Roman’s. Are you sure you’re ok-”

“Great, don’t leave. I’ll be right there.”

“What does that mean-” Remus demanded, but the line was already dead. Remus swore again. He briefly considered calling him back, because what the actual fuck was that all about, but he was only about 30 seconds into that brief consideration before a familiar car tearing through the apartment complex parking lot caught his attention. He quickly brushed as much of the sawdust off his clothes as he could because holy shit Janus had just parked right there in front of Roman’s apartment.

Remus watched, dumbfounded, as Janus scrambled out of his car- dressed in his very nice black suit and pale yellow button-up- and came running across the lawn toward where Remus was working. He had a tiny plant clutched to his chest.

“Uh, Jan, you good?” Remus asked. Janus stopped in front of him and doubled over, breathless, for a few moments. Then, he straightened up, and fixed Remus with a look of sheer determination.

“Remus. I want to get back together.”

Remus’ heart, the traitorous bastard, leaped up into his throat and blocked all his words from coming out. 

“It’s… it’s ok if you don’t want that,” Janus continued. His look of determination faltered slightly. “It’s ok. But I needed to tell you. Because I love you, so much. And I… I didn’t want you to think I didn’t, even if you don't-”

Remus found his words abruptly. “Jan, fuck! I do! I do love you. I never stopped loving you. All I want is to be with you.”

Janus’ eyes softened. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Good, because I’ve just been offered a job here.”

Remus choked. Janus was eyeing him smugly. “You. Just like that, you got a job here?”

“Just like that,” Janus grinned. “I just came from the interview. They offered me a position on the spot.”

Remus couldn't help himself any longer. He lurched forward and pulled Janus tightly into his arms.

“Hey, be careful,” Janus said, though he made absolutely no effort to get out of Remus’ embrace. “You’ll crush our new son.”

Remus pulled back just enough to look at the small plant Janus held in his hands, and only then did his brain register what it was. 

“Is! Is that-”

“Yes,” Janus replied, holding up the tiny Drosera Capensis seedling. Remus had wanted one of these for ages.

“For me?”

“Well, for us, ideally,” Janus answered, with a shy smile. “But, mostly for you, yes.”

Remus gently plucked the baby octopus plant- their new son!- from Janus’ hands, and placed it carefully on top of the milk crate that was serving as his carpentry workbench. Then, he hoisted Janus up off the ground and spun him around.

“Oh- Re-” Janus exclaimed, though he was laughing. “Put me down!”

“No!” Remus trilled. He spun Janus around once more. Then he just stood there, holding Janus, gazing up at him. Janus’ eyes grew soft. Slowly, he carded his fingers through Remus’ hair.

“Hey,” Janus said.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Remus set Janus down, but kept his arms still wrapped tightly around him. His heart felt warm.

“Hey.”

Janus looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“I love you, too.” 

[bubble-booty-cuties]

Gym Selfies~! With A New Star~?

Let me start this by saying that if you’re not a part of my server, or actively anyway, you have literally zero context for this, but just so you know, there was a lot of build up to this!

This prompt is about technically my very first “furry” story, staring Rouge The Bat, obviously from Sonic, sue me~! I love Rouge, always have, she’s thicc and beautiful~! So of course, people finally convinced me to write some lewds about her~! Begone all who do not want, but for those who do, get ready for some thicc, twerking slutty bat~!

Here’s her outfit, for those who are curious, I LOVE this pic~!

_____________________________________

The small but thicc bat babe held the kettle bell with both hands as she faced the mirror, both of her feet planted firmly on the ground as sweat dripped down her thicc, curvy, plump body, her breathing deep but even. Slowly, Rouge lowered her positively fat ass down as low as could go, deep in a squat as her thicc, juicy thighs flexed and sweat dripped down her almost bare cheeks from the extensive work out.

Rouge had been there all morning, very early, as she usually liked, mostly cause there was less people, and those who were there were just as dedicated to their body as she was hers, which was always a treat to see~ And considering she was dressed in her favorite gym outfit, a tight pink and white sportbra that barely held back her massive breasts, showing a deep valley of cleavage, a pair of matching sneakers, and nothing but a pink thong covering her sex, she figured anyone waking up early enough to see her earned a bit of a show~

And a show she was giving~ As her ass got as low as could get, her eyes trailed from her own form in the mirror, music blaring in her ears from her earbuds, and instead found the wandering eyes of the one other person in the gym, a large stud covered in tattoos, semi-long hair pulled back, and definitely ripped~ He wasn’t bulky, he was more lean, like a fighter, and the way sweat dripped down her muscular back and chest was just what she liked~

Raising up from her squat, she saw him stare at her ass, I mean, who wouldn’t, it was quite the sight if she did say so herself, and she could see him practically forget what he was doing when she once again squat her fat ass down low, making sure to arch her back a little, safely, and give him an even nicer view~ He was twice her size, handsome, and looked like he could lift her with one arm~ She had to admit she was a little interested~

“You know, if you take a picture it’ll last longer~” Rouge’s voice cut through the relative silence of the gym, making the much larger man jump just slightly at her low, purring voice, his eyes shooting up from her twin, sweat dripping globes to her beautiful, smirking face looking back at him in the mirror, her large, pretty eyes half lidded before she gave him a little wink. “Or maybe you’re more of a ‘hands on experience’ kind of guy~”

Sadly, life wasn’t a porno, and she knew it’d take more then some heavy handed flirting to have him, say, fuck her over that bench over there, and she was proven right when she made the massive man cough into his hand and look away, obviously taken by surprise by her sudden advance, his slight blush cute on such a handsome stud. That’s okay, she liked when they played hard to get~

And the great thing about gyms~? People never wore clothing made to conceal their body, quite the opposite in fact, so when she saw him try and turn his body slightly away to hide the massive fucking snaking bulge down his shorts pant leg, Rouge knew right away that today was going to be exciting~ But, she wasn’t done with her set, so she continued her squats while listening to music, making sure to act like she didn’t see him turn back around to “secretly” stare at her ass again~

Her muscles burned exactly how she wanted them to, and sweat dripped down her cheeks like she was in a photoshoot. Yeah, she was fucking gorgeous~ What, wasn’t she allowed to love herself~? She obviously wasn’t the only one who thought she looked great considering her new nameless friend had gone back to full on staring as she finally finished her workout.

With a breath of relief, she finally dropped the weight into it’s proper place on the rack and grabbed her phone from her bag, music still playing through her cordless earbuds, checking her messages and changing the song with a towel over her neck. All the while she made sure to keep her back to the stud still watching, slowly rocking and shaking her hips to her music knowing he was enjoying the extra jiggle she was showing~ And she had a lot more planned to convince him to come play~

First it was a selfie, slightly bending at the waist and pushing her breasts up for the camera, a nice pouty face, and showing him her fat ass just a bit more, and the camera of course~ Next came turning her back to the mirror to take a few nice pics from the back, showing off just how those sweaty cheeks swallowed up that little pink thong between them~ Some nice captions about Friday night, and the next stage of her plan was in place~

“Well if you’re not going to take any pictures, maybe you could help me with a few instead~?” Suddenly her big beautiful eyes were on the man once again, who was still surprised, but not as much as last time, and she hooked her finger at him for him to come closer, smirking devilishly at him~ “Or better yet, shoot a video for me real fast, wouldn’t you~? I’m sure you’d make a wonderful camera man, you already seem to focus on my best assets~”

“U-Uh, sure, yeah, I can do that..” Was all he said as he suddenly stood up, walking over slowly as if she wouldn’t notice the massive hard-on damn near knocking his knees down his shorts, worse still since standing up straight he was twice her size, her face literally coming up to said bulge as he finally stood in front of her. “So do I use your phone or..?”

Rouge cocked her wide, sultry hips to the side and put her hand on her left hip, looking at the massive throbbing bulge in front of her face before looking up the man’s cut, tatted body appreciatively, before she seductively smiled up at the man without a hint of shame or hesitation.

“And here I thought a guy twice my size could handle all this, guess size doesn’t matter after all~” She purred as she stepped in close and pushed his hips back, walking him back until he sat on the bench she had her gym bag on, right next to the mirror. “Though I’m sure someone as big as you has never had to deal with that before, have you~?”

“Just calm down big guy, just sit back, relax, and make sure it’s recording before you start staring at my ass~ Again~” Rouge stood between the man’s legs proudly and confidently, her massive, bouncy breasts inches above his bulge as she played some music on her phone and handed it over to him, camera at the ready.

The man was stunned, used to some attention from attractive women, sure, but this thicc little bat had him ready with camera in hand to record her ass and he didn’t even know her name. He was overwhelmed, surprised, and harder then he’d ever been in his entire life. Fuck he loved shortstacks. And the moment she turned away and took a few steps forward to give him a fantastic view of that ass, he pressed the record button and the show began.

With some little leg stretching, Rouge started by gently shaking her fat ass side to side, letting those shiny, sweaty, extra fat globes wobble and jiggle a bit while bending forward at the waist, pressing that ass up and out for the camera. This wasn’t the first time she’d shaken her ass for a camera, and it wouldn’t be the last if she had any say in the matter~

With a little show of flexibility, Rouge grabbed her ankles while wagging her massive, lewd hips side to side, rubbing her hands slowly up her long, smooth legs before grabbing her own knees as the bass of the music dropped, her eager camera man moving the cam in closer, and Rouge decided to get to why she had 100K followers~

With a nice hard drop of the music Rouge looked over her shoulder with a grin and a wink and dropped her ass up and down, twerking those massive, shiny globes of meaty ass, bouncing those twin cheeks to the beat while that tiny little pink thong was swallowed up between those hungry mountains of cake~ Those huge, plump, juicy thighs flexed as she twerked like a whore for the camera, sweat dripped down the warm valley of her ass while the camera caught every detail in 4K, she even blew a nice lewd kiss to the camera while she wiggled her little tail~

Both of those cheeks jiggled and rippled with every move she made, and she decided she wanted a little more energy before she got to the main act~! Suddenly, Rouge dropped that fat, bubbly ass down low to the ground, raising her arms above her head and letting those massive cheeks spread apart with every twerk of her wide, slutty hips, showing that little thong for just a second before her cheeks met together in a nice, loud, meaty clap of flesh on flesh, and she couldn’t help but grin at the way her camera man’s cock throbbed and twitched against his shorts~!

Suddenly she dropped on all fours as began twerking that ass faster, bouncing that ass while she was face down ass up, her wings laid out flat at her sides while the camera focused on her extra curvy body, and just as she kept her upper body down, and lifted her ass up high with her toes planted on the ground, Rouge dropped her ass down, her legs in a deep, perfect split as she threw her bubble booty up and down to the music.

“Still getting this, handsome~?” Rouge looked back at the man who was practically drooling, just to get a dumb nod as he once again adjusted his cock in his pants. “Sigh, do I really have to spell this out for you~?”

With a strong flap of her wings, Rouge was once again standing, or, twerking in a nice squat, throwing that jiggly ass in a circle while she clapped her cheeks for the cam, every single inch of that smooth, creamy skin wobbling in HD on the small screen before she that she had enough foreplay~

With a sudden step up onto some dumbbells, Rouge was the perfect hight to back that booty up and drop it down on the stud’s crotch, pressing those warm, meaty, sweaty cheeks against that massive snaking cock through his clothes before beginning her show once again, twerking those wide, slutty, birthing hips like a pro, grinding and rubbing that cock between the hot valley of her ass while she looked back at him with a raised eyebrow, as if daring him to tell her he doesn’t know what it is she’s asking for~

“Oh fuck-!” The man growled but kept that bouncing bubbly booty in frame as it twerked right up on his cock, so close the camera could see the droplets of sweat as the dripped down her cheeks and thighs, down her lower back, and he just couldn’t resist giving those meaty cheeks a nice hard smack~!

“Hmm, you can do it harder then that~!” Rouge grabbed the man’s thighs and began throwing her ass back for him, knowing that her prey was right in her palm, and all she had to do was make sure he couldn’t get away~

Suddenly, the busty bat babe with the bubbly booty reached back and grabbed the waistband of her new lover’s shorts, yanking his shorts down as quick as she could and letting that massive bitch breaker spring free into the open air, thicker then her wrist and so long and heavy it slapped down with a nice weighty, meaty slap between her sweaty asscheeks, and right across her lower back~!

“Son of a bitch-!” The stud could barely handle the view of his massive, veiny, steaming hot cock between those velvety cheeks, or how huge it looked as it went up her lower back, FUCK he loved shortstacks! And the moment the little bat babe started twerking her ass even harder, sandwiching his cock between those hot, slippery cheeks while she bounced her twin globes of meaty ass, milking each and every inch of his cock in long, rough, jiggly grinding bounces, he damn near snapped there!

“Fuck, you are huge~” Rouge was getting excited, she could feel his cock leaking precum between her asscheeks like a leaky faucet as she bounced and twerked her ass on that pole, knowing he was going to split her in fucking half~! She had half a mind to choke on that cock if she wasn’t so hungry for an ass pounding~!

Suddenly, he felt those massive cheeks clap on his cock over and over again while she grinned evilly back at him, and he could only grit his teeth and resist the urge to throw her phone across the room, only barely remembering to record his own cock trapped between those clapping cheeks as they went up and down his cock before they started clapping on the very tip of his cock.

“What do you say we skip the dinner and flowers and skip right to the anal, huh~? I bet you can’t wait to fuck this fat fucking ass~! Stop holding back and-!” Suddenly Rouge felt the man grab her by the wide hips and heard her phone get thrown into her bag, the music following but still audible, and suddenly she felt her entire world turn around before she was bent over the bench the stud was just sat on, her toes reach hard to find the ground before finally finding purchase, just for her to realize she was quite literally bent over with her ass raised as high into the air as she could get it.

She was just about to make some smart ass comment about handling a lady with care when she felt that massive cock slap down between her cheeks again and right across her lower back, reminding her how big the cock about to stuff her ass really was~ The feeling of the massive stud’s hands grabbing her hips reminded her just how much bigger then her he was as well, and she just knew he was gonna fuck her like a fleshlight~!

“It’s about time, I thought I’d have to start sending smoke signals~” Reaching back, Rouge pulled her thong aside and revealed her tiny, needy little puckered asshole right next to the man’s massive bitchbreaker, covering her own little cunt with her hand and looking back hungrily at him with her best set of ‘fuck me’ eyes~ “When I said anal, I meant it~ You better fuck my ass as hard as you can, I wouldn’t want all this to be for nothing~”

The man didn’t even respond, simply giving that extra fat ass a nice hard smack that left a nice red mark on her smooth skin, and Rouge knew her prey wasn’t getting away now even if he wanted to~

Grabbing the edge of the bench, and giving her ass a few more playful bounces to the music, Rouge held on as best she could as the stud grabbed his massive prick with one hand and lined up that massive tip with her tiny asshole, and she could only grit her teeth in pleasure as she felt his strength behind his hips, where he suddenly slammed that cock tip against her little pucker for all of a second before forcing that cock half way into her tiny, needy, slutty little asshole so hard the entire bench rocked along with her body, but he didn’t stop, he was only halfway in, giving her ass another smack and grabbing both hips, he yanked the slutty little bat bitch back and slammed his hips forward until her ass clapped back onto his waist with as much strength as he could muster.

“FUCK~!!” Rouge couldn’t help the yelp of pleasure as she was suddenly stuffed fuller then she could remember, her ass rippling with that nice meaty clap against his hips, and she could only roll her tongue out and her eyes up as she felt his hefty nuts smack her dripping cunt, and they were just starting. Though starting implied a build up, and there was anything but that~

“GRRR!!!” The man snarled as he suddenly yanked his cock out of the tightest little fuck hole he’d ever felt before slamming back in even harder then the first time, then again, and again, yanking his new fleshlight forward and back to meet his thrusts or yanks out to make his slamming twice as hard, and hard it was as suddenly the entire gym was filled with the wild, frantic, meaty clapping of flesh on flesh as he stuffed that slutty little bat as hard as he fucking couldm slamming and pounding that ass and little asshole like a wild animal while she started screaming and squealing in pure, unbridled pleasure~!

“Y-YES~!! YES~!! YEEESSS~!!! OH FUCK YES~!!” Rouge’s entire fucking world rocked and bounced as she was rammed and railed by the massive, strong, wild beast suddenly rearranging her guts with his massive fucking cock, she could barely hear her own squeals over him clapping her cheeks so hard she knew she’d be sore later~! Her perfectly manicured nails dug into the leather of the bench as she tried to desperately hold on for dear life, her shoes barely finding grip on the ground as they slipped here and there sometimes, and the entire steel and leather bench rocked and knocked against the ground, only adding the sounds of the brutal, vicious buttfucking she was getting~!!

And brutal it was, the man’s pace was like a jackhammer as he railed and fucked the little slutty bat’s asshole like a wild beast, just gritting his teeth in a snarl as he took out all his post workout stress on that fat jiggling, rippling ass, even going so far as to smack that fat ass like a stress toy, clapping those cheeks as fast as he fucking could while his nuts dripped with the bat’s dripping juices, even his abs burned from how hard and fast he was slamming that extra fat and slutty ass~!!

“FUCK MY ASS LIKE THE WHORE I AM~!! USE MY ASSHOLE LIKE A FUCKTOY~!” Rouge could barely tell up from down as her things fell to the ground with a clatter, and she couldn’t give a damn~! Her big, beautiful eyes crossed and rolled up as drool dripped down her chin, teeth grit, and she could only squeal like a buttslut getting her fix, cause in that moment, where her entire world rocked and bounced so hard and fast she could feel the bench under her creak with strain, she knew that’s exactly what she was, a needy buttslut getting her fix~!!

Suddenly, Rouge couldn’t hold on at all, as his already brutal and vicious pace double in intensity, and he brutally and frantically railed that extra fat ass so hard and fast it sounded like a drum from how loud he was clapping his hips against that fat, juicy set of cheeks! She couldn’t hold on, but she didn’t need to as he held onto her hips and used her like a fleshlight while she could only stay bent over to take it~!

When she felt him finally snarl and slam in balls deep one final time, Rouge could only scream so loud she was sure every person outside could hear her pretty voice as he roughly slammed in like he owned her little asshole~! And suddenly, Rouge felt the man blow his extra hot, stringy, thick, bubbly load deep in her asshole while he yanked out half way just to continue slamming in to fuck her through his and her climax~!!

And suddenly, he stopped as his last nut was stuffed deep inside her ass, and all the sound in the room stopped besides their pair of heavy breathing, and the sudden wet pop and lewd sounds of his cum pouring out of the slutty bat’s little gaping backdoor~

And just like that, Rouge was satisfied, and the stud laid down on his back, sweat dripping down their bodies, and both completely tired.

---------------------------------

Water washed down the sultry curves of Rouge’s body, down each and every perfect line of her body while she rinsed the rest of her expensive shampoo out of her hair, sighing in deep, lovely relief as she turned off the hot water and stepped out into the gym washroom, gently drying herself off with a beautiful smile.

And once she was finished drying off, slipping on a pair of little booty shorts and a new sports bra, she was perfectly applying her make up once again, winking in the mirror before looking for her phone in her bag, not spotting it, she snapped her fingers in realization. Stepping out of the locker room, Rouge casually strolled up to the still panting ad sweaty man on his back, just to find her phone on the floor next to the bench she was just railed on.

“Hmm~” Rouge picked up her phone, looked down at the strong, muscular, handsome stud, and reached into her bag to pull out a piece of paper and a pen, writing her phone number on it before dropping it next to him.

“That was fun, don’t you think~? Let’s do this again sometime~ Call me~” And just like that she walked away from the scene of the ‘crime’, a sultry sway in her wide, sexy hips while her ass jiggled with every step, already thinking of what to have for lunch while the stud behind her wondered if he could survive doing that again.

Fuck he loves shortstacks..

[clouditae]

First Love | 04

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | swearing | mentions of abuse

Word: 2.4k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

It’s Friday afternoon. Everyone's out doing something while you lie in bed. You’ve been in bed since you woke up and watched Ari pack a bag of clothes. She and Hoseok are going somewhere for the weekend and you couldn’t help but question how she and him were a couple after only knowing one another for a month.

“I wondered the same thing,” she told you, folding a dress and placing it into her bag. “But after we met that first day, I guess we just sort of clicked. We couldn’t help but get closer, and ta-da,” she laughed, “We’re dating. It’s still early to start a relationship, but we couldn’t help it.”

“Lucky,” you mumble, finally forcing yourself out of bed. “It’s so easy for you to find someone, but it’s a struggle for me.”

You walk towards your mirrored closet, opening it and grabbing your caddie. You grab a towel from the shelf in your closet, and close the closet door before making your way towards the bathroom door to take a quick shower. When you finished showering, got dressed, and walked back into your room, your stomach rumbles.

You sigh, “Ten more minutes.” You glance at the little blue clock on your desk to confirm that the dining hall would have lunch out in ten. Thankfully you’re correct.

You take your time putting on your lotion, brushing your hair when it is dry enough, and putting on your socks and shoes as you hang your towel on the rack in your closet. Checking the clock on your desk one last time, you grab your keys, ID, and phone before leaving your room to grab lunch. You walk down the hallway, but turn back around and make your way back to your dorm when you realize you didn’t grab your earphones.

Placing your key in the keyhole, you turn the key and push the door open. You quickly grab your earphones from your desk and leave your room once again, pulling the key out and making your way down the hallway. What you’re not expecting is a girl knocking on Yoongi’s door, and you definitely aren’t expecting an ache in your chest as you slowly walk past her. The sound of the door opening catches your attention. Your eyes meet Yoongi’s as he looks past the brunette and at you. Looking away, you walked faster until you were at the bottom of the staircase.

Your chest aches even more. You’re still not over him, even though he’s rude and clearly doesn’t care for anyone but himself. Your feelings for him remain. You want to believe that he is a good person, but you know he isn’t.

Maybe other people see different. But from what you see… you want nothing to do with him.

Entering the dining hall, you do your usual routine, grabbing what looks best before taking a seat in the back corner of the room. Pulling out your earphones and phone, you plug in your earphones before clicking on your usual app and clicking on the show you are currently invested in. You put your phone down, angling it just right and begin to chow down.

Today’s episode is about the main character getting the guy of their dreams. Some bad flirting happens, jokes are made, feelings are hurt, and all you want to do is throw your phone out the window. It’s like the world is giving you the bird in the biggest way for falling for someone like Yoongi. With so much anger building up inside you, you shove the rest of your food in your mouth, placing your empty plates in the huge sink for the dishwasher to wash, and practically stomping out of the dining hall.

Min Yoongi is a jerk and nothing can change your mind.

Saturday morning is something you don’t want to be awake to. It’s Saturday and all you want to do is sleep in until noon, but you have homework to do and a project to begin. If you stay in your dorm, you know for a fact that you won’t do it. All you will do is sit at your desk and stare at your computer screen, so you force yourself out of bed, into the shower, and pack your textbooks and other items into your backpack before grabbing your earphones and heading out of your dorm. You walk down the hall, past the staircase that leads to the first floor, and into the north hall. The hall is a lot longer than the center hall as you walk down it towards the exit door that leads to the outdoor staircase. You can’t help but wonder if everyone in the hall knows one another like your hall did. Center halls have fewer people, so it’s easy to remember everyone. Or at least know their faces.

Reaching the door, you exit the hallway and make your way down the staircase. You follow the group of friends making their way towards the shuttle that is across the parking lot and on the side of the street when you reach the first floor. The music plays in your earphones loud enough to block out the world. The cars that drive by, honking because the car in front of them is too slow, the chatter from the other students who are waiting for the shuttle, and the dogs barking. You don’t hear it.

You check your phone for the time. The shuttle will leave in ten minutes, but the bus will drive by in four. Glancing to your left, down the street you could see the bus parked on the curb next to the bus stop. Rather than wait for the shuttle, you walk up the sidewalk to the bus stop in front of the apartment complex next door. You stand next to the bus stop for two minutes before the bus pulls up in front of you. You steal a quick glance to see if any of the other students are making their way over towards you, but no one is looking at you. Either they aren’t paying attention, or they still didn’t bother getting the bus pass from the cashier window on campus—which is free. You hop on the bus, pressing your bus pass against the scanner, hearing a beep before making your way towards the middle of the bus.

Taking a seat next to the window, you watch as the apartments and the auto shop blur by, the coffee shop appearing as the bus comes to a stop. With the doors opening, two people enter the bus. They take a seat closer in the front as the doors close and the bus drives off towards its next stop. For the next five stops, three people enter the bus. Usually there would be a lot of students, but because it’s Saturday, no one wants to go to school. It’s the weekend, who would want to go to school to study? You can’t help but sigh. Sadly you have to go to school to study.

The bus turns left, entering the campus property. With no one at the first stop, the bus continues on until reaching the second stop where the stop light is red. The doors open and two students enter the bus. As the driver of the bus waits for the light to turn green, you stare out the window as a few students wait at the bus stop for their bus to appear. One student, however, catches your eye. He stands next to the bench, hands in his jean pockets. You can’t see his eyes with his sunglasses covering them, but his blond hair looks familiar. Before you can even think hard enough, the bus takes off, leaving the familiar person behind.

At the final stop, you get up from your seat and walk to the front of the bus, thanking the driver, and getting off. You walk to the edge of the sidewalk, looking both ways before crossing the small street. You make your way up the sidewalk towards the library, watching as a bus pulls up to the bus stop next to you. You continue forward before turning left and walk alongside the library towards the entrance. No one is at the tables outside the entrance, so that means the floors aren’t completely filled with people.

Entering the library, you’re met with the smell of coffee from the coffee shop in front of you. The five story building has each floor assigned to the level of noise. The basement is a floor for studying and no noise. First floor, the floor you’re on, has the computers, the front desk, and the coffee shop. Clearly talking loudly is allowed. The second, third and fourth floor contains books for the students to search for, along with tables to do some studying. The second and fourth floor allow talking, while the third floor doesn't. The fifth floor is a lot like the basement. All tables but this floor has cubicles for students to group study. The fifth floor allows talking, and during midterms and finals, a lot of the students spend the night in the cubicles.

You pass through the detectors, making a right towards the lobby. Pressing the up button to the elevator, you glance at the computers that occupy the rest of the floor to your right. A few students type away furiously on the keys as they most likely write their paper. After a few seconds, the middle elevator doors open. You enter the elevator, pressing the fifth floor, and watch the doors close just as a group of guys’ heads appear to be coming up the stairs from the basement. 

The number at the top goes from one to two, then from two to three. The number goes up to five before the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open. You exit the elevator, making a left and enter through the glass doors into the study of the fifth floor. Much to your expectation, there are very few people in the room. You make your way towards the back of the room towards the desks that run along the window. Taking a seat in the empty one at the corner, you place your bag on the desk. You love this spot because from this floor, you get a view of the ocean.

And so, for the rest of the day until closing at five in the afternoon, you do all your homework and plan out everything you have in mind for your project. You’ll need to start the project on Monday when the shelter is open. When you leave the library, you contemplate whether you should have dinner on campus, or head back to the dorms and have dinner in the dining hall. You debate for a few minutes before deciding to have dinner on campus. You’re craving sushi and some fish and chips from the Greek stand.

Rather than turn left from the entrance of the library to head towards the bus stop, you move forward, passing numerous buildings where you had and have classes in. You pass the building of the Asian department, pass the psychology building and the bookstore. Walking down the small set of stairs, you pass the outdoor seating to the grill and pub, and finally enter the food court next door. The numerous smells of different types of foods hit you like a wave. Walking further in, you ignore the Boba shop that isn’t good, and the vegan stand as well, eyes strained on the Japanese stand and the Greek stand next to it.

You’re going to order your fish and chips first, and thankfully there isn’t much of a line. You follow the maze of the line leading towards the cashier, and walk up to the smiling woman.

“What can I get you?” she asks, her tone bright and welcoming. You give her your order, requesting only two fish rather than four along with a large drink. She repeats your order, asking for your school ID for the student discount, takes your card, and makes the transaction. You tell the woman your name before making your way to the stand next to it. Grabbing the container of spicy crab sushi rolls, walking up to the cashier to pay for it.

Once you’ve paid, you make your way towards an empty table, setting the rolls and your backpack down. Before you can sit, your name is called. You walk towards the counter of the Greek stand and grab your tray of fish and chips and your drink. When everything is laid out in front of you, you have your earphones in, show ready, and take your sweet time eating dinner.

Everything tastes so delicious. You’ve been craving sushi and the fish and chips for a while, but because you never have a reason to eat on campus, you never bother eating here. Now, however, you gave yourself a reason, and it’s the best decision you’ve made in a while.

Eventually you finish eating, pack your belongings, ride the bus towards your dorms, and close the door to your room behind you. Immediately you strip your clothes, feeling free as you slip on your gray pajama pants and a light pink short sleeved shirt. You’re about to binge something on Netflix, eat your tub of ice cream in your freezer, and pass out around midnight. Maybe later.

Before you can begin your steps to getting comfortable and eating, a knock is heard on your door, both startling you and confusing you. No one should be bothering you unless it’s your RA, but he wouldn’t bother anyone this late. You peek through the peephole, seeing blond hair on the other side of the door. You frown. Why did the blond hair look familiar?

Grabbing the handle, you twist it and slowly pull the door open, but the person on the other side pushes themselves in, causing you to stumble back. “Where is she?” the man says, as he walks into your room. You barely have time to open your mouth before the stranger turns around to look at you, eyes fuming. That’s when it hits you. You know who this man was. Ari’s stories scare you, but seeing him in person, showing his anger scares you more. “Where the hell is she?” he asks again, voice a bit louder than before.

“I-I don’t know,” you tell him, voice shaking.

Leo. Ari’s ex. She broke up with him your first year at the dorms when his verbal abuse became too much. Ari said he never hit her, but the way he talked to her made her feel worthless, and the way he yelled and got close to her scared her. He doesn’t break you physically, but he does mentally.

“Then you’re going to take me to her,” he tells you, grabbing you by your wrist and dragging you out your room.

“I’m telling you—I don’t know where she is. Please let me go,” you beg, trying hard to stop him from dragging you down the hall, but you’re not strong compared to him. With your free hand, you try to have him let you go. “Please Leo. Please let me go—I’m telling you the truth, I don’t know where she is!” You feel warm tears stream down your cheeks.

He isn’t listening to you. He’s going to drag you to his car and force you to find Ari. Maybe he’ll abandon you somewhere where you’ve never been. Maybe this is where you die.

A hand appears out of nowhere, grabbing Leo’s wrist, forcing him to stop. “What do you think you’re doing?” Leo turns back to face the person holding his wrist while you look up to see Yoongi standing next to you. “You should let go of her.”

Leo scoffs, “Not until she tells me where Ari is.”  

Yoongi has a blank expression as he replies, “She’s out with my roommate for the weekend.”

“What?” Leo growls, grip on your wrist tightening causing you to whimper as he grabs Yoongi by his shirt with his free hand and pushes him against the wall.

“I’d suggest you leave. You have an audience, and you won’t be running far before the cops catch you for entering a room uninvited, kidnapping, and I’m guessing you already have a record, so this’ll be bad for you,” Yoongi says, tone so calm as if he isn’t being threatened by someone who looks stronger than him. Leo’s grip around your wrist loosens just a bit, and the voices behind you can finally be heard over the rapid beating of your heart.

Leo is silent. No words are said between the two as they stare one another down. Can Yoongi be stronger to challenge Leo? You’d never know as Leo finally lets go of your wrist, jabbing a finger at Yoongi’s chest. “This isn’t over,” he whispers before storming out the hall and down the staircase.

You remain still, staring at the spot Leo was just at. You’re afraid he’ll come back if you move from your spot. You thought that maybe if you stay here, he won’t come back.

“Hey.” You blinked, sucking in a breath as you turn your head to look at Yoongi who is leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. He looked you up and down. “Where are your keys?”

It takes you a bit to comprehend what he’s asking, but when you’re finally able to push the thoughts of what happened back, it dawns on you. “In my room,” you whisper.

“The office is closed so you can’t use their key to get in,” he began, pushing himself off the wall, “so it looks like you’re with me.” You stare at him with wide eyes. You’re going to sleep in his room? Just the two of you? What will everyone in this hall think if they watch you walk into his room? “Everyone has gone back to their rooms, so no one will see,” he tells you. Everyone is gone? Slowly, you turn around to see an empty hall. When did everyone go to their room? Yoongi takes a few steps before he reaches his room and opens his door, staring at you as he holds it open. “Well?”

This is the one time where you wish you weren’t so paranoid and left the latch to your bathroom door open so you can just go to your neighbors and get to your room through the bathroom, but you know for a fact that you closed it. You couldn’t hate yourself any more than you do right now as you walk into his room.

Yoongi’s room is pretty much set up the same way your room is. Except, the only thing is that everything is on the opposite side of yours. While Hoseok has some rather bright colored bed sheets, Yoongi is more on the darker side. Having just a simple black pillow case and gray blanket.

“You can take my bed,” he tells you, and before you can respond, he adds, “I washed the sheets if that’s what you’re thinking.”  

That isn’t what you’re thinking. In fact, you actually forgot what happened earlier. You feel rather uncomfortable sleeping in his bed, but the more you think about it, the better his suggestion makes sense. If you sleep in Hoseok’s bed, Ari may find a strand of hair or something and that can lead to something you do not want to happen for them. So, you nod and climb into his bed.

The blanket and pillow smell like fabric softener and shampoo. He must have been lying in bed before he found you and Leo in the hall. Your thoughts go back to Leo, your heart racing and body slightly shaking. You’re fighting the urge to cry. You don’t want to cry in front of him. However, the sound of music begins to play, getting loud enough to block out a conversation.

You’re not sure if he did it for you or not, but you’re grateful as your vision begins to blur, and the view from the closet mirror of your hero working at his desk goes blurry as you cry yourself to sleep.

[sharktoothedboys]

One Of The Guys - Chapter 2

So here is the next part of the on going Kirishima story i am working on, hope you guys love it!! 

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It had been a few hours since you were punched in the guy by the news that Kiri had bought a date to the event, your event, and didn’t even have the decency to tell you. Not that he had to in any way but still, you would have liked a heads up. 

You had your best pretend smile on your face while inside you were screaming   “I don’t wanna be here anymore!” You had become surrounded by Politicians, no idea how it had happened either, maybe you should stop drinking? Nah! They had roped you in to a chat about cleaning up the city, even though crime rates were at an all time low thanks to you and Shotos agency. Their dirty hands kept creeping up to rest on your waist or small of your back as the conversation continued, Something Kiri would normally be on like a shot and put a stop to. But tonight he was no where to be seen. how rude of him! 

You smiled at the thought, then mentally sobbed a little at the fact he hadn’t so much as looked at you all night, never mind spoken a word to you all evening. You’re only comfort was somewhere at the bottom of a glass, and you had yet to find it. So the drinks kept being poured, you were on your.... who cares?, the bourbon was good, vanilla tones calmed your anger as you necked yet another nest double. Holding up your empty glass, “Please excuse me gentle men, i seem to running on empty.” They all gave a laugh as you excused yourself form the conversation and made your way to the bar to refill your warm smoky liquid. 

You made your way to the bar, seeing your father and twin brother having a conversation on the stools at the end you decided to join them, holding up your glass to the bar tender as you did so, he rushed to replenish your drink and quickly returned with a full glass for you before you even sat down in between the two men, noting how small you looked perched between them and making a mental note to hit the gym a little more. 

“Haven’t you had enough of those tonight?” Your father said with a knowing smirk on his lips. A smile even, one you had only just recently become accustomed to. 

“Not nearly enough, dad” You replied with a finger gun and a wink, probably an indication you had in fact had enough to drink. Regardless you raised your glass to the two men and then to your lips, “To us” you say quietly looking to Shoto who raised his glass in silence in return to your toast. 

Your brother of course knew of your not so little secret crush on the red hero, of course he did, you rarely hid anything from each other, and he had quickly realized why you were slamming back double bourbons like they were going out of fashion. He had seen the woman practically attached to Kirishimas hip earlier on in the night and had been keeping an eye on you ever since, knowing you were probably not going to take it well, it may have been 12 years since your crush had began, but it had never faltered and he knew that, he also knew that you were not emotionally equipped to deal with this kind of situation. He watched as you necked another double, your cheeks a flaming red, a hiccup leaving your lungs as you smacked the glass onto the bar, he indicated to the barman, no more, then he called over a surprisingly sober Mina to help him get you upstairs. 

“Thank you Mina.” He quietly said as they guided you towards the elevators.

“No worries Sho,” She replied, still using his high school nickname that made him smile at her, “ I am deadpan sober, so I am here to help.” 

“Why are you sober? I haven’t seen you with one drink all night.” He asked, “Its a special night, I imagined seeing you dancing on tables with a jelly shot.”

“Normally I would be, but think about it Sho, why wouldn’t a women, actively trying to get pregnant, not be drinking?” She smirked at him and it clicked in his mind. 

His eyes widened and a small smile tugged at his lips as she out her finger to her mouth, a silent agreement between old friends that he would keep quiet.

“I’ll get her to bed if you wanna go and finish up your evening, one of you should be present at least.” She told him as she managed to get you to stagger in to the elevator that had just arrived, “Please tell Bakugo where I have gone, you know what he is like.” 

Shoto watched as you leaned against the cool glass of the wall, shoes in hand, “Goodnight Sho.” You said, a little slurred as the doors closed, he raised his hand in a goodbye gesture. He was Mad at the red headed boy, but he didn’t understand why, as far as he knew, Kirishima knew nothing of his sisters feelings and was unknowingly hurting her, but he was still mad at him for hurting her. But what could he do? really? 

You and Mina made it to your apartment and managed to stagged in to your bedroom, where Mina managed to get you sat on the end of the bed, where you just tried to lay yourself down in your gown. 

“Oh no no!” Mina said dragging you back to sitting up. “Come on, at least take off the dress.”

You sat at the end of the bed and whined like a child being told to eat the vegetables, you raised your arms, a silent plea for Mina to remove your dress for you as you didn’t have the capacity to do it yourself. She gave a small giggle as she looked at your puppy dog eyes and carefully unzipped and removed your dress for you and replaced with an absolutely huge crimson riot t-shirt that was folded on your pillows, assuming it was sleep wear but quickly realizing it was one of Kirishima’s fan boy shirts he always let you borrow, that you almost never returned. You tucked your arms in to the shirt and managed to unhook your bra yourself and let it fall to the ground and off your body as you stood to also remove your underwear, the shirt being long enough to cover your dignity. 

That’s when Mina saw the glint in your eyes, The threat of tears ready to spill over your eyeline and down your now very pink cheeks. Her heart broke for you, she knew how emotionally stunted you could be, along with the shyness that ran in your bloodline, she mentally slapped Kirishima for never noticing your feelings and making you suffer all these years. Her only wish right now was that you had gained the courage to tell him, but you never could and it pained her to see you this way. 

“Y/N...” She began, Placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. 

“It smells like him.” You choked out, your breath racking your lungs and making it difficult for you to speak.

“Lets get you to bed.” She softly spoke, knowing the amount of drink in your body wasn’t helping and you needed sleep. Her heart really went out to you, when would you get your happy ending? She got you into bed and tucked in the sheets around you, oh how she wished you could have just told him all the wat back in 1A, but maybe that’s just not how things were meant to be? Its not like you had never had a boyfriend, but things never seemed to click, mainly because they were either afraid or insecure of the sheer amount of power your quirk held, or that fact that they were not Eijiro Kirishima. Mina sighed as she watched you fall asleep, a peaceful look finally overtaking your heartbroken features. Happy you were in a deep sleep, she left to go to Bakugos apartment and get some rest herself, leaving you a glass of water and a note to call her when you woke up. 

The next morning. 

You woke up, a little worse for wear to say the least. Your eyes slightly stuck together from un removed make up, your head surprisingly wasn’t to bad, but your mouth was dryer than the Sahara, you needed water. Luckily you found what mina had left you, downed the water and decided to call her once you had freshened up a little. 

You headed to the bathroom, you washed your face, brushed your teeth, sorted out your hair and felt much better. You noticed you were in His shirt and a wave of sadness washed over you as you remembered the woman, Kimiko. You shook off the sadness and made your way back to your bedroom to get ready for the day, luckily you were not on patrol today. 

As you exited the bathroom a flash of red caught your eye as Kiri was just leaving his room,  A Smile automatically began to pull at your lips until you saw he was closely followed out by her, both of them smiling widely, her hands on his bare chest, “I could break her hands with the blink of an eye.” You thought to yourself as you seethed from the bath room door. Trying to not let the anger get to you, thanks for anger issues dad! 

“Oh!! Good morning Y/N!” Kiri said happily giving you a beaming smile that you found very had to stay mad at, he waved cutely from the end of the corridor, adorable. Luckily your room was closest to the bathroom so you wouldn’t actually have to walk past them. Thank god. 

“Morning.” You replied, a little grumpier than you intended. 

“Woah!! You ok? A little hungover?” He laughed as he pulled Kimiko into his side. Not noticing the stank look she was giving you. 

You laughed dryly in response, running  ahnad through your freshly brushed locks.

“Something like that.” 

“What are you wearing?” Kimiko almost demanded as she put her hand on the hip that wasn’t surgically attached to Kirishima. 

You looked down at yourself and back at her with a confused look on your face. 

“Erm... a t-shirt.” you replied, sarcastically of course. 

“Is that my Kiri’s shirt?” She asked, the question loaded with Malice, You weren’t taking it. 

“No, I always wear a 5XL,” You retorted. “Of course its his shirt, I always sleep in his shirts.”

“Well, I think that’s really disrespectful, considering he has a girlfriend now.”

Girlfriend? You think you physically feel your heart stop.

Kirishima watched with a bewildered look on his face, as you looked over to him, he looked away and kept his eyes from looking at you. 

‘Thanks for defending me’ You thought to yourself. You stared her down a little, deciding what to do next. 

“Fine.” You said bitterly, angry that Kirishima had done absolutely nothing to make her not talk to you like dirt. “Here, you can have this one back now!” 

Then without missing a beat, and knowing full well you had nothing on underneath, you removed the giant shirt from your body and threw it down on to the floor in front of them. 

Stood there in all your glory, you smirked at her and then looked to Kirishima. 

“Its not manly to stare, Kirishima.” 

You then side stepped in to your room and slammed the door behind you. 

That’s when what you had just done hit you, your heart was racing, you had never done anything so bold in your life! Kiri just saw you Naked, and not in th way you had wanted him to all these years. You internally screamed as you heard muffled yelling from his room and a door slam, your body temperature rose and you suddenly felt a little sick. 

You needed to call Mina. Now. 

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I loved writing this chapter! So i hope you guys love it to!! Let me know by dropping a like pleaseeeeeeeee. Much love!

[loserholland]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐲

Pairing ➺ Spencer Reid x SSA!Reader

Warning ➺ None really, just flashbacks to episodes from season 7 

Word Count ➺  6,408

Summary ➺  When the Reader needs a date to her sister’s wedding, Spencer volunteers to be her date.

A/N ➺ Please enjoy! Maybe I’ll do a part two, who knows! But the bold text are the readers thoughts (:

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @taronxfiction @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine@spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou @babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland@zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker@jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003@kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles@peterunderoos @jessybellsworld @spider-mendes @ohbabycal​ 

@nerdgirljen​ 

@iloveyou3000morgan @random-things-i-love

*The strike through your name just means I couldn’t tag you, please message me if anything*

☞  Masterlist  ☜

“Shots!” 

Garcia shouted as she placed a the tray onto the table of the booth, it had been one hell of a long week and they finally had a free night. And with a free night meant head to the local bar make it one hell of a night.

Everyone reached for a shot glass whereas Reid raised his glass of Arnold Palmer.

The bar was slightly packed, mostly by FBI agents, the sound of music plus the amount of chatter in the club brought a smile to everyone’s faces. It’s been a while since they had gone to the bar as a team.

The booth was filled with laughter, the team had been talking about anything and everything, passing around jokes about one another.

Originally it was supposed to be a girls night, but the boys had begged that they allow we allow them to join. Well Rossi and Morgan were the ones who pleaded and insisted on dragging Reid and Hotch along.

(Y/N) felt her phone vibrate causing her to bring it out of her pocket wondering who was texting her at this time.

𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘰’𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦?

She groaned loudly reaching for another shot placing her phone face down on the table. Morgan raised his brows lightly noticing her sudden mood change.

“What’s up with you (Y/L/N)?”

(Y/N) leaned back into the booth drawing out a long sigh before answering “Nothing, my sister was just asking who’s my date to her wedding which is next week.” 

Rossi chuckled lightly before asking, “Who’s the lucky fellow?”

Yeah that’s the thing

There was no lucky fellow.

“Funny story..”

The team had just gotten back from Atlantic city. It was one of those cases where Hotch had given the team a long weekend off.

(Y/N) sighed lightly opening the door to her apartment kicking her boots off as she entered and locking the door behind her. Shrugging her coat off and placing it on the coat rack, she walked over to the kitchen placing the stacks of mail she had gotten before coming upstairs. 

After one hell of a week, she opened a new bottle of red wine and poured it into a glass before heading into her room for a nice hot bath.Once she was done relaxing she headed back into the kitchen, sorting through her mail till she stumbled upon a wedding invitation.

𝗝𝗼𝗶𝗻 𝘂𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝗥𝘆𝗮𝗻 𝗔𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗦𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘁 (𝗬/𝗟/𝗡)

“𝘋𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘴”

“𝘙𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴”

“Are you bringing a date?” (Y/N) mumbled to herself as she read the options to check off, of course only Scarlet would want to include that.

Not, number attending but are you bringing a date. Letting out a deep sigh her eyes gaze over to the pictures scattered over the fridge. (Y/N) was the second oldest of four siblings. She was the one out of four siblings to not be:

One- Married

Two-Soon to be married

and Three

Recently engaged.

Without thinking, she grabbed a pen and checked off to where we are now.

Morgan bursted into a fit of laugher before saying in between breathes “So, what I’m hearing is you don’t have a date?”

She glared at Morgan sticking her tongue out at him like a five year old child. It was already bad enough that every time she goes home to visit her family will ask: “Found anyone special?”

“Yeah, I don’t.”

It was a simple mistake, and well that simple mistake left her with no date. The last thing she wanted was to text her sister, “I actually have no date lmao.” because if that were to happen bridezilla would make quite the show. And she’d also never hear the end of that. Now, she has a week to find a date. That can’t be that hard right? Just who?

Morgan could barley catch his breath, (Y/N) kicked his ankle in annoyance “It’s not funny Derek! All I hear from my aunts are, oh you’ll find someone sweetie or you’re getting order you’ll find someone soon enough!” she leaned her head against the wall continuing to glare at Morgan.

“I could be your date.” Spencer spoke up trying to ease the tension that filled the booth.

Emily used her foot to nudge (Y/N) leg, she glared at the woman sitting across from her who wore an amused smile. (Y/N) glanced over at Penelope and JJ who also had the same expression on their face.

His brows furrowed, he didn’t see anything wrong with what he offered so- why was everyone staring?

“What? I-It was a suggestion.. that’s all.” His nose crinkled as he spoke pressing his lips into a thin line focusing his attention to the table in front of him.

Spencer may have an IQ of 187, and (Y/N) may be the youngest and second smartest of the team. These two are blind. Literally blind. It was quite obvious that boy wonder and miss.young and beautiful (well said from the one and only Penelope Garcia) have feelings for one another. 

If there was someone who can talk Spencer down, to get him to bring his walls down, it was (Y/N). Just a few months ago when everyone found out that Emily was in fact alive and not dead, everyone was happy that she was alive but that also came with being questioned by the Senate Committee for our retaliatory action.

But before Emily had came back everyone was dealing with her death differently.

There are five stages of grief:

Denial

Anger

Bargaining

Depression

Acceptance

With those five stages, everyone deals with their emotions differently. (Y/N) and Garcia did as much as they could to honor Emily’s name. Whereas Morgan felt guilty, telling himself he if he were there a second early he could’ve saved her. Spencer took it the hardest, he had gone to JJ’s house crying for almost 10 weeks.

Now with Emily back, the team felt back to normal. Well, some what back to normal. We had been called to Oklahoma, and it wouldn’t be a lie to say Spencer was not Spencer adding into the conversation or throwing in "Did you know.. facts”

He was quiet, distant.

“It’s too late alright!”

“Reid?” Emily spoke only watching as walked away.

(Y/N) looked at Hotch before saying “I’ll go talk to him.” giving her a nod of approval she grabbed one of the car keys and headed out towards Spencer.

Running out she watched as he continued to walk away, “Spencer!” she shouted yet no response.

“Spencer Walter Reid!”

Nothing

“Reid!”

The nearly 6’1 genius continued to walk away ignoring your calls. 

“Hey loverboy! I am talking to you! You know I don’t like being ignored!”

Spencer stopped in his tracks throwing his head back lightly “I don’t want to talk.” he spoke without turning around.

The heels of her boots clicked against the sidewalk once she was next to him she linked her arm with his pulling him towards one of the SUVS.

“Who said I wanted to talk? What if I wanted to get some coffee.”

Luckily there was a coffee shop that was a few blocks down the road, the car ride was silent- comfortable silence. (Y/N) never pushed Spencer to talk, she waited patiently for him to bring it up on his own.

In which, he did.

“I cried.. for ten weeks (Y/N).. ten weeks back to back.”

His voice barley above a whisper.

(Y/N) brought her right hand forward taking ahold of his left giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Spencer, Hotch and JJ kept Emily safe. The less people knew that Emily was alive, the better because Doyle was still out there. If he found out Emily was still alive, he would’ve gone after not only Emily but the rest of the team as well. Trust me, it’s odd to have Emily back I mean we ‘buried’ her for christ sakes. But she’s here, with us again. Not six feet. under. I can’t speak for JJ but, I know she never meant to intentionally hurt your feelings or make you feel vulnerable. We were bound to find out sooner or later Spence.”

Truth be told, (Y/N) hated seeing Spencer sad and angry. Something she never saw all that often but knew him being sad made her feel sad.

They had spent an hour an a half in the coffee shop, now they were walking back into the station. Slowly Spencer had opened up more, she let him go uninterrupted allowing him to speak as she listened.

“Thank you by the way.”

(Y/N) smiled nudging him with her elbow, “Anytime loverboy.”

-

"Look at pretty boy go!” Morgan chuckled raising his enclosed fist towards Spencer who awkwardly fist bumped him back. She watched as he pursed his lip his gaze fixed on his drink avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team and especially (Y/N).

Hotch sighed lightly glancing at his phone before giving Rossi a nod, “I better get going, I don’t want Jessica to stay too late. Have a nice weekend guys, I don’t want to see any of you at the office.” 

It was just fifteen minutes past eleven and everyone was ready to head home and call it a night. Stepping out of the nearly now packed bar greeted by the cool air of Washington D.C. They had bid their goodbyes and headed to their cars. 

All she could think about was what Spencer had said, “I could be your date.” I mean, there is no problem with him being her date right? Beside the fact that you have a huge fat third grade crush on boy genius. 

Once she got home she kicked off her boots padding over to the kitchen for a glass of water placing her belongings on her couch. A loud ding echoed throughout her apartment, it may be her sister again wondering who her date is.

Grabbing her phone out of her purse the notification flashed across the screen:

A message from Scarlet. Swiping her thumb across the screen unlocking her phone to read the message.

𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰? 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦?

𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦?

𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸.

𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘭?

𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰?

𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦.

𝘗𝘴, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦!

“Love you too whore.” (Y/N) mumbled placing her phone onto the coffee table walking away to her room to get changed. Another loud ding caught her attention, “I thought she was going to sleep?” (Y/N) thought to herself.

Instead it was a message from Emily.

𝘚𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘴! 𝘛𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦!!

Plopping herself onto her couch running her fingers through her hair.

He’s awake right? I mean it’s only twelve-fifteen? She held her phone in her hand tapping it lightly against her thigh contemplating whether or not to call him. 

“Just call him.” she mumbled to herself

Her family didn’t have any problems with Spencer. The one thing she’ll never forget is when he had told you father "The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss." The look on your fathers face was priceless.

Besides that her family had no problems with Spencer. They just describe him as being bit awkward and rambles on about well anything. It’s almost been four years since she joined the BAU. She was lucky enough to join at the age of twenty-three. And she’s been with them ever since.

When (Y/N) first joined the team Jason Gideon had just recently retired and David Rossi had returned voluntarily. You know that new kid feeling? New school, fresh faces, no friends? Yeah, that was the was her current feeling.

(Y/N) had barley gotten any sleep the night before. She felt anxious, tossing and turning the almost the entire night only to get about three hours of sleep. She had gotten up thirty minutes before her alarm, and had gotten there thirty minutes early.

Now she was currently sitting in SSA Aaron Hotchner’s office. You’ve heard many amazing things about his team, they are truly one of the best. Brushing her hands against her skirt for what felt like the hundredth time.

Pull yourself together, there’s nothing to be worried about.

“Agent (Y/L/N), would you like to meet the team?” Hotch spoke, (Y/N) turned her attention to the door giving him a nod of approval. Standing from her seat she followed him into the conference room.

“You’ll be fine.”

(Y/N) chuckled lightly, “Sorry, I’m just extremely nervous.” he smiled lightly opening the door to the conference room, the only person she knew was David Rossi, the BAU wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Gideon and Rossi.

“SSA (Y/L/N), this is SSA-”

“David Rossi, I’ve read your books and they are magnificent.” Rossi chuckled lightly sticking his hand out for her to shake in which (Y/N) gladly shook. She had just met one of the greatest profilers of all time.

(Y/N) looked up at Hotch before quickly apologizing “This is SSA Prentiss.” The beautiful raven haired woman smiled “Emily, nice to meet you.” moving to the man standing next to her “SSA Morgan.” he smiled shaking her hand “Derek.”

“(Y/N).” she replied.

“Our Communications Liaison Jennifer Jareau.”

“You can call me JJ.”

“Our tech analysis Penelope Garcia.”

Finally, the last person whom she had grown closes too.

“And Doctor Spencer Reid.”

That was your team. And they were more welcoming than you thought they would be, they were your second family. If you guys weren’t on a case, you’d be at the bar raking up Rossi’s tab. You were able to talk to them about almost anything, if you needed time off Hotch understood.

The first year she had worked with the team, they were very welcoming. Hotch had partnered you with Spencer most of the time, either you two would check out the M.E or stay back at the police department. It was safe to say it was a bit awkward at first when you were partnered with Spencer. But, she wouldn’t have wanted to be partnered with anyone else.

“Hello?”

Shit! He’s awake. Wait, when did I call him up?

“(Y/N)?”

Say something, he knows you’re on the other end of the line.

“Are you okay?’

Are you having a stroke right now? Say something!

“H-hi, sorry to bother you so late.”

It was fifteen minutes to one, did it really take me almost thirty minutes to call him?

“It’s fine, just getting a little bit of reading in. Did you need something?”

She bit the bottom of her lip getting up from her seat on her couch, just say it! Tell him you’d love to have him as a date.

“If your offer still stands.. I’d love to have you be my date.” she paced around her living room. Please say yes, this would be totally awkward if you said no but- you did offer to be my date?

Spencer smiled widely “Yes! I-I mean of course, I mean- I’d love to accompany you.” though (Y/N) couldn’t see him she knew he had his hand covered over his eyes mentally curing at himself.

“Great! I’ll text you the details tomorrow? Thank you again Spencer, I appreciate it.” 

“Y-yeah cool cool, um good night, sleep tight.. don’t let the bed bugs bite.” 

He could be such a dork sometimes. A cute dork. Rambling on until someone says something or he’d catch himself and apologize. Usually the team would exchange looks but, you’d sit there listening intently. It’s amazing that someone so young has already three PhD’s and as the genius said himself “I just keep getting PhD’s”

“Good night loverboy.”

Spencer had his nicknames, from Pretty boy, boy wonder, kid, doc etc.

Loverboy however, kinda just slipped. They had been working a case and Spencer was deep in his thoughts, she had been trying to get his attention for the last five minutes. When she had said it, he cheeks were painted a deep shade of red. Ever since then, the nickname just stuck.

(Y/N) tossed her phone onto the couch squealing loudly, surely enough she knew one of her neighbors would file a complaint against her but she didn’t care. All she cared about was the fact that Spencer Reid was her wedding date, and she couldn’t be more excited.

-

The entertainment capital of the world

Sin city

Fabulous Las Vegas.

Home to Spencer and (Y/N), the two were going to be staying with her parents since they live the closes to the venue. The drive to her parents house meant passing by her high school, and without a doubt she knew Spencer would have something to say.

“Isn’t that your old high school?” 

She glanced at Spencer for a short moment before answering, “Yup, class of 2003.”

About a month ago the team had gone to Boise,Idaho where a serial killer is murdering the survivors of a high school massacre that took place exactly ten years earlier. Hotch had sent (Y/N) and Spencer to examine the crime scene. 

“The unsub has to be tied to the school somehow. Maybe a current student, alumni, or a family member who lost someone?” (Y/N) mumbled as she scanned the crime scene 

“It could be a Slade groupie celebrating his hero. He taped nails to the exterior of the bomb. Specifically to rip open flesh-” Spencer spoke turning his head slightly to see (Y/N) examining the various pieces of nails.

“That’s a Slade detail of Slade’s the unsub copied.”

“Except he tricked Givens into blowing himself up.A groupie probably wouldn’t show that much self-control.” (Y/N) pointed out her eyes looked from the ground to the ceiling.

“But someone with an ax to grind against the principal would. Maybe he’s a surrogate for the tormenters in high school he can’t punish...” he examined the photos he held in his hands, “who were yours?”

(Y/N) chuckled reaching forward to touch the piece of nail in the wall, “I don’t even remember.” she mumbled.

Spencer raised his brow in confusion, “You don’t even remember?” his voice filled with disbelief. He stepped forward still stuck on the subject, “Wait, were you one of the mean girls?”

She turned around in surprise her eyes widened at his question, “What? No!” Okay maybe there were some people she was a bit rude to. That only being her  younger brother who was a freshmen when she was a senior.

“Track star with a full ride scholarship to UNR and was accepted by many universities, one of the valedictorians of her class, and the student body president? That not only screams popular but you could’ve been one of the mean girls!”

(Y/N) gasped loudly walking past Spencer to get to the other side of the room, “Could’ve been, I was actually one of the nice popular girls! I was even friends with guys like you!” 

“Guys like me? I'll have you know that my social standing increased once I started winning at basketball.“ now that was hard to believe.

“Spencer Reid playing basketball no way.” (Y/N) snickered causing Spencer to press his lips into a thin line, “Okay, I coached basketball. I broke down the opposing team's shooting strategy.” Now that sound more like Spencer.

“Is that why Morgan kicked you out of the pool last week?“ Rossi held a BBQ last Sunday, inviting the entire team over and Spencer and Derek were going at it in the pool bickering with one another.

“Yeah. Took him three rounds to realize I was hustling him.”

(Y/N) pulled into the driveway shifting the gear into park, she turned slightly to face Spencer. “Spence.” she whispered, he turned his head in confusion. Spencer had met her family, but he was about to meet MORE of them. As much as she loved them to death, they could be a little too much.

“First off, I wanna say thank you so much for being my date. Second, my family.. they are loud and can get very.. touchy? If you feel uncomfortable in any given moment please tell me because I don’t want you to think you made a mistake by coming.” He gave her a warm smile, placing his hand over her’s.

“(Y/N/N)!” a voice shouted causing (Y/N) to jump slightly pulling her attention away from Spencer. Her mother smiled happily, she was beyond excited to hear that (Y/N) was bringing Spencer as her date. The two exited the car retrieving their luggage from the trunk. 

“Hey mom!” (Y/N) shouted as she closed the trunk watching as Spencer waved hello to her mother.

“Hi Mrs.(Y/L/N).” 

“Oh Spencer! How have you been? Come in get settled Steven and I are treating you two to dinner tonight!” She watched as her mother followed Spencer into the house, it would be an understatement if I said my mom loved Spencer.

I mean who wouldn’t?

Later that night when they had gone out to dinner they just so happened to run into one of her family members that every so gladly invited themselves to dinner. 

And the immediate question was, “So (Y/N), who’s this?” that lead to a somewhat awkward dinner. You know how everyone has that one favorite cousin? Then there was that one cousin that was a tattle-tale and much of a show off? That was the cousin that was at dinner tonight. 

“This is Doctor. Spencer Reid, he’s my partner. I-I mean the partner on my team, a-

“So what I’m hearing is you’re single?” Gwen questioned causing (Y/N) to gasp lightly watching as Spencer shifted in his seat “Um- well yeah but-” his voice had gone up a couple octaves. Drawing his hand away from the table watching as Gwen’s cheeks tinted a deep red.

“Gwen quit it, you’re making him uncomfortable!” (Y/N) snapped annoyed with her cousin’s behavior. This was the last thing she wanted Spencer to feel, uncomfortable. She didn’t want Spencer to think he made a mistake, before she could say anymore he glanced at her for a second before whispering “It’s okay.” If only she could strangle Gwen right here, right now. The table was filled with awkward silence, (Y/N) mother chuckled lightly before quickly changing the subject “So, who’s ready for tomorrow?”

-

The only thing (Y/N) always looked forward to was the reception. Her least favorite part was the ceremony where most of her family members would be asking her one too many questions. She had spent half of her morning mentally preparing herself for what’s to come today. What she was not prepared for was the suit Spencer had worn, well the velvet suit jacket to be exact. It had matched perfectly with the red dress she had worn.

Spencer sat with (Y/N) siblings watching as she chased around her niece and nephews, “I’m gonna get you!” she shouted causing her niece to squeal loudly running father away from her aunt. (Y/N) had always gotten along with kids, they’d easily adjust to her. When they had cases dealing with kids, it would either be Spencer, JJ, or (Y/N) to be the ones to talk to them.

“Remind me, the next time Garcia tries to get me to go to a shoe sale I need to say no.” (Y/N) spoke in between breaths settling next to Spencer, Wonderful tonight began to play bringing almost everyone to the dance floor. She took ahold of his hand dragging him up from his seat, “Spence we need to join them!” 

The sound of his heart beat was music to her ears, beating softly. The feeling of being so close to him, left butterflies in her stomach. It felt so, domestic? It’s not an everyday thing to dance with Spencer Reid.

“Do you see yourself having kids some day?”

(Y/N) pulled her head away from his chest looking up at him with a raised brow. That was a bit out of the blue.

“Just the way you interact with your niece and nephews, you’re good with kids. i’ve noticed that when we work on cases dealing with kids. you’re patient with them.” Spencer glanced down at her, she looks so beautiful.

(Y/N) sighed lightly before answering, “Yeah, ideally... I want to have kids by the time I’m thirty and well, I have three more years to make that happen.”

Spencer hummed at her response allowing (Y/N) to continue.

“My parents... they had told my siblings and I that I would be the first to have kids, and well-“

Her eyes gaze over to her older sister whom was the first to have kids, her beautiful niece and nephew. Seated at the same table her brother whom was recently engaged and his fiancée awaiting their first child.

And now her younger sister wouldn’t be too far behind.

“I’m not a profiler, but aren’t those two completely oblivious about their feelings for one another?” Isabelle commented watching as her sister dance with her date.

“That’s what I was thinking the entire time! The FBI should hire us, we’re good!” Cole exaggerated lifting his hand for Isabelle to high-five.

(Y/N) turned her attention away from her siblings back to look at Spencer. If only she could hear her siblings conversation.

“I’m gonna be the last to get married.” she said with a light chuckle.

There was no one to blame, i mean at this point she was married to her job and she knew the pros and cons. But there’s still time for her, time to find someone, to have kids.

“What about you doc? Do you want little geniuses?”

Spencer sighed lightly moving his right hand that was resting on her waist taking ahold of her left, spinning her around.

He held her hand for a moment swaying the two from side to side, “Of course, as much as I love being a godfather.. I wanna have kids of my own. An entire soccer team as one may say.”

That was something the two had in common, being a godparent. (Y/N) loved spoiling her goddaughter, even before she was asked to be the godmother.

(Y/N) giggled at his response, any woman would be lucky enough to have a child with Spencer. He’d make a wonderful father, he’d be ever so patient with his little boy or girl.

“Well your future wife is in for it.”

He felt a slight tug on his suit jacket, he looked down to see (Y/N) niece Lyrical, “I wanna dance.” the four year old said moreover demanded.

(Y/N) gasped lightly before letting go of Spencer’s right hand and moved to wrap her arms around him.

“No he’s mine.” she joked sticking her tug out at the four year old.

If he was standing in front of a mirror right now, he’d be as red as a tomato.

“No! My boyfriend!” Lyrical huffed wrapping her chubby arms around her chest with a pout. That was something Lyrical basically established during prior visits.

Whenever they’d have cases in Vegas the night before they leave the team goes to hangout with (Y/N) family. Her second family meeting her well family

(Y/N) drew back her arms from him as she looked between Spencer and her niece, “So- who’s it gonna be loverboy?”

Spencer hummed at her question before picking up Lyrical causing her to giggle lightly wrapping her arms around his neck swaying from side to side.

She held onto him, her fingers slightly tugged at the back of his hair. (Y/N) smiled, the warm fuzzy feeling she felt earlier was back again.

If Spencer’s first born child is a girl, she’d have him wrapped around her fingers before she was born.

She walked up to her niece peppering kisses onto her chubby cheeks earning a burst of laughter, the song changed into a more upbeat rhythm causing almost everyone to come to the dance floor.

“So, who was going to tell me they were dating?” Scarlet questioned, walking over to sit at the same table her siblings were seated. Isabelle snorted reaching for the glass of water in front of her.

“Why would we? They aren’t dating.. yet.” Cole answered sarcastically earning a slap to the back of his head. He glared at his younger sister, “I answered your question why did you have to hit me!” Scarlet shrugged lightly taking a sip from her champagne glass.

(Y/N) looked over to her siblings, who were bickering as usual.

“I’m gonna go sit for a bit.” Spencer nodded watching as she walked back to sit with her siblings before turning his attention back to the four year old.

“Woah Lyrical stole your date.” Cole snickered causing (Y/N) to roll her eyes playfully, “I know, better watch out she’s gonna have boys waiting on her beck and call.” The table rose with laughter, as they moved onto a different topic.

It felt like old times, sitting around with her siblings as they talked about childhood memories and embarrassing moments. She needed to come home more often instead of having them fly out to only spend a day or two.

Her eyes gazed over to Spencer and her niece who were stilling dancing, that warm fuzzy feeling. It’s unexplainable. She couldn’t help but imagine, what if. What if her and Spencer do end up together? Oh would their daughter be his princess. He would do anything for her. Whoever get’s to be the future Mrs.Reid would be the luckiest women in the world, his kids would be blessed with such a wonderful dad.

Scarlet looked over to her older sister who was too deep in thought as she watched her date dance with their niece. She couldn’t help but notice the smile that tugged at (Y/N) lips.

“So does that mean you’re next?”

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her train of thought coming to a screeching halt. Next?

“For?” (Y/N) questioned back, unsure of what Scarlet was trying to lead on.

“You and that handsome Doctor Reid.”

(Y/N) eyes widened causing her to shake her head from left to right, “What? No no, we’re just friends.” she tried to suppress the smile that dared to paint over her lips.

Her siblings look between each other before bursting into a fit of laughter, “Sure keep telling yourself that.” Cole spoke in between his laughter.

Y/N rolled her eyes crossing her arms over her chest before responding “Hey! We’re just friends.” 

Cole leaned back into his chair raising a brow at her, “So, you’re telling us you don’t have any feelings for him? Zero, nada, zilch?” she glared at Cole kicking his ankle lightly. He winced at the sudden action reaching down to sooth his ankle.

“I don’t have feelings for him.”

Isabelle rose her brow at her younger sister, “You’re doing that thing.” If there was one thing she was bad at it would be lying. You’d think for a profiler she’d be better at lying and would be able to keep a poker face.

“What thing?”

Scarlet sighed loudly, “(Y/N) you may be a profiler but, we’re your siblings we know when you’re lying.” That only caused (Y/N) to scoff loudly and shake her head at her siblings.

Why are they attacking me right now?

“You cross your arms over your chest and you smile, A LOT it’s kinda no it IS creepy. Plus you get defensive, like very defensive.” Cole pointed out only for the rest of her siblings to agree.

Let’s forget what I said early about visiting more often. They can continue flying out to D.C.

(Y/N) got up from her seat slipping her heels back on causing Cole to flinch slightly, growing up the only boy meant dealing (Y/N) scared him. A lot.

 “I wasn’t going to hit you ass clown!”

Maybe, just maybe she was spending a bit too much time with Rossi.

 “I’m gonna go for a little walk.” 

The three siblings looked between each other. If there was something she knew all too well of doing it was avoiding her feelings. Not opening up to others, building walls high enough so no one can look over and see what she’s feelings or thinking. 

“Don’t close yourself off! Say what needs to be said!”

It felt like deja vu. 

Emily had told her the exact same thing a few days ago.

"Oh my sweet angel face (Y/N)! You and boy wonder are blind!” Penelope slurred as she attempted to place her glasses on (Y/N) face. JJ couldn’t help but laugh at Garcia’s actions.

“My vision is 20/20 as a matter of fact!” (Y/N) answered earning another laugh from Emily, “Pen is right you know? Don’t close yourself off! Say what needs to be-”

“Hey, you missed the bouquet toss.”

(Y/N) blinked a few times before looking up to see Spencer.

“Did you know the tossing the bouquet is a tradition that stems from England. Women used to try to rip pieces of the bride's dress and flowers in order to obtain some of her good luck. Today the bouquet is tossed to single women with the belief that whoever catches it will be the next to marry.”

This was one of the many things she loved about Spencer. The amount of knowledge he holds in that huge brain of his. Usually the team isn’t much of a fan when he rambles on but, you loved it. The way he uses his hands to explain what he was thinking, or how he basically has an answer for well everything.

“Who caught the bouquet?”

He chuckled lightly taking a seat next to her, “Well Scarlet kinda threw it at me and said you know what to do. But your mom made her redo it, got a laugh out of everyone though.”

“Pretty sure you’re suppose to catch the garter.” (Y/N) giggled turning her head slightly to look up at Spencer who was laughing along with her. There was a sudden cool breeze causing her to wrap her arms around her chest.

“I knew I should’ve brought my jacket.”

Spencer shrugged off his dress jacket draping it over her shoulders. It was ever so slightly bigger on her she slipped her arms through the sleeves

“Thank you... and another thank you for being my date. I really hat- dislike attending weddings.”

“Did you know the first recorded evidence of marriage ceremonies uniting one woman and one man dates from about 2350 B-“

Her eyes fell towards the ground in front of her. Fixated on the shoes he was currently using.

The converse she had bought him for his 30th birthday, well belated 30th birthday. Not only was he using the converse she bought him but the mismatching socks as well. The team had been called to San Francisco to investigate a possible Zodiac Killer copycat. There was something up with Spencer however, he was quieter than usual. 

But it was only because he had doubts on why he’s in the FBI, questioning that he should be doing something more in his life with the amount of knowledge he had accumulated over the years. The team didn’t even realize they had missed his 30th birthday, and (Y/N) felt so bad for it. She was the one to always bring in the birthday boy or gal their favorite donuts and a cup of coffee. 

When the team had gotten back to Quantico she had stopped by to get him a new pair of converse and of course mis-matched socks.

“How did I not notice you’re using the shoes and socks I gifted you?”

His brows furrowed,“Is something wrong (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) sighed ignoring his question “I read that a crush only last four months. But if it last longer you are considered to be in love. is that true?”

“Actually, many people often mistake crushes and infatuation with love. The initial feelings of crush and falling in love are very similar. The rush of euphoria happens in both cases. The butterflies, and the feelings of pure joy at the sight of them happens in both cases. It’s easy to see how the two are mistaken for love because the feelings are so intense, but there is a difference. Crushes and infatuation go hand in hand, and are very similar-

He paused for a second catching his breath before continuing, “-a crush is defined as a brief but intense infatuation for someone, especially someone inappropriate or unattainable. Infatuation is defined as an intense but short lived passion or admiration for someone or something.

Involuntarily she rest her head against his shoulder, “What about love?” she questioned. You glanced up for a second watching as his tongue swiped across his bottom lip.

“Love is truly seeing and accepting their object of affection. It’s an intense feeling of deep affection. to be patient and understanding, love is forgiving. It desires a deep connection. When we truly love someone, we see their flaws, and we accept them. there are thoughts of a future together, and realistic expectations of ea-“

JJ sighed, “Just tell him say I love you. Not as a friend. But I love you, on a deeper connection. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I’m in love with you.” her eyes fluttered shut, her heart was pounding in her ears, she felt Spencer tense at what she had just said. Oh god did I make a mistake?

She pulled her head away from his shoulder, tell him why just tell him.

“You’re the most sweetest, yet awkward guy I know. Not only are you sweet, you’re also so smart. I love to hear you ramble on about, honestly anything. You’re so caring, and kind. It hurts me when you beat yourself up, I just want to hug you and tell you why you’re wrong and tell you that I love-” 

Spencer placed his hands on her cheeks pulling her into a slow passionate kiss, everything happened so quickly it took her a moment to process what was happening. Wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss, the feeling was so surreal.

He pulled away slowly his hands still on her cheeks as he rest his forehead against hers, “I love you too.” he spoke as he stared into her (Y/E/C). (Y/N) smiled from ear to ear, stealing another kiss from Spencer.

“Finally!” a voice spoke startling the two. (Y/N) peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see Cole standing there with well the rest of her siblings, oh yeah she was never going to hear the end of this. 

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Welcome Home (part two)

(not my gif) 

Summary: After not speaking to her brothers for over a year, Peyton Rhodes’ life is turned upside down when her boyfriend of four years cheats on her. She uproots her life with WWE and returns home to Atlanta. She finds herself among great friends and she is finding herself again after being lost for so long.

Pairings: Cody Rhodes x OFC (Sister), Brandi Rhodes x OFC (sister), Dustin Rhodes x OFC (Sister), past Seth Rollins x OFC, future Kenny Omega x OFC (maybe?), MJFx OFC( maybe?) 

WARNINGS: SO MUCH FLUFFING FLUFF, explicit language, mentioned cheating (ONE EXPLICIT DESCRIPTION),  

A/N: I tried to post this yesterday, but tumblr was not having it. Here is part two. Enjoy<3 

Seth mentioned that WWE was traveling through Atlanta and wanted to know if he could stop by my place. I had gotten an apartment close to Brandi and Cody’s place  not long after leaving. I said sure, but I was going to have someone here with me. I invited Kenny over and told him Seth wanted to talk and that I wanted, no needed, him to be there with me. 

A knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts. Gathering myself together, I answered the door.

“Hey Princess.” Kenny Omega greeted me. I didn’t reply, I only embraced him. “You gonna invite me in?” he chuckled, hugging me tightly. I nodded against his broad chest. We released each other and moved into the apartment.

“Hey Ken.” I finally greeted him as the door closed. He smiled lightly. He knew I was still hurting.

“How are you?” He asked, sitting down on my couch. I shrugged, taking place next to him.

“Honestly, I feel worthless. Ken, I can’t explain it. I don't understand how he can still have this affect on me.” I said, no real emotion in my voice. 

“Peyton Rhodes, you are not worthless.” Kenny rebutted, shocked at my words. “You are wrestling royalty. You are talented. And honest to God, you have Kenny Omega,” He paused to point to himself, “wrapped around your pretty little finger.” He explained, grabbing my hands. “Pey, you are my best friend. You are amazing and I hate to see you think otherwise. I could kick Seth’s ass all the way back to Iowa for making you feel this way.” I laughed, scooting closer to him. 

“Kenny, thank you for coming. I couldn't do this without you.” I said, laying my head on his shoulder. He placed a light kiss to my hair.

We sat in comfortable silence for a while. Suddenly, a knock at the door, broke the silence. “I’ll get it.” Kenny said, getting up and walking to the door. Kenny looked through the peak hole on the door. Seeing the person on the other side filled him with rage, but he composed himself. Kenny opened the door. “Good evening, Seth.” 

“What are you doing here, Omega? This has nothing to do with you.” Seth growled. I had started to make my way to the door, prepared to split up an all-out brawl. I placed a hand on Kenny’s shoulder.

“Ken,” I said, he shifted over, so that Seth came into my sight. “Seth, I told you I was going to have someone with me.” 

“Yeah, but I figured it would be Brandi, hell, maybe even Cody.” I laughed at the mention of my brother’s name and shook my head. 

“Cody wants to kick your ass.” Was all I said and Kenny interjected, “For the record, so do I.” 

Kenny and I moved over to let Seth into the room because the last thing I needed was for a nosey neighbor hearing what was about to go down. The three of us moved into my dining room and sat at the table. I sat as far away from Seth as possible and Kenny moved his seat so we were shoulder to shoulder. 

“So, Seth. Explain yourself.” I offered him the room to talk. 

“I know what I did was awful and I will never forgive myself. But Pey, please believe me when I say she means nothing to me and I am so, so sorry.” he apologized. 

“She doesn’t mean anything? Then why are you engaged, Seth? I saw the fucking pictures, with the giant rock on her hand.” I scoffed, wondering why I did this in the first place. 

“She found the ring I bought for you, put it on, and took those pictures. We are not engaged.” he tried to defend himself, but something didn't feel right. I knew Mandy.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I walked in on you balls fucking deep in her in OUR locker room. Actions speak a fuck ton louder than words. I got the message. I wasted four fucking years on you. FOUR. I got pushed out of the title scene for you. I was basically demoted to a fucking escort.” I snarled, slamming my hands on the table.

Seth jumped and looked at me with sad eyes. He knew I was right, I almost ruined my career for him. "And I know Mandy. She may sleep with other people's boyfriends, but she wouldn't put on some random ring and announce she's engaged." Tears streamed down my face, and Kenny noticed, wiping them away. Seth’s sad eyes changed to jealous. 

“So what, are you guys together, now?” He asked, his voice laced with envy. Kenny whipped his head to face him. 

“If we were, which we aren’t, it wouldn’t be any of your fucking business. It’s called being a good friend.” Kenny seethed, gripping the edges of his chair. "You have no idea how much you hurt her." 

I could tell this wasn’t going to end well. “Thank you for telling me your side of the story. But this doesn’t change anything. I think it’s time for you to go.” I sighed, and moved to get up from the table. Seth rushed to my side. 

“That’s it? After everything, I only get 10 minutes to say my piece?” Seth questioned, offended. He went to touch me and I shrugged away. 

I shook my head. I was done. I heard more than I needed. “I spent the last 4 months coming to terms with what happened. And I’m finally happy. I found myself again, after being lost for so long,” I paused, trying to compose myself. “I learned to love myself again. I fell in love with wrestling again, and I’m not letting anyone take that away from me.” I explained, moving away from him, giving Kenny the chance to move between us. 

He pointed to the door, “I’ll walk you out.”

Seth accepted defeat and walked with Kenny, muttering a simple, “Bye Pey,” as he followed Kenny. Kenny opened the door, gesturing for Seth to walk out of it, but he stopped in the doorway. He turned around to face the other man. 

“I can see you care for her, hell, you might even love her. Don’t fuck it up, Omega.”  Seth advised. Kenny crossed his arms and scoffed. 

“I don’t need advice from the guy who cheated on her. I know how fucking amazing she is. Goodbye, Rollins.” Kenny began shutting the door before he was even out of the way. He flipped the lock and walked back to me.  

“Don’t cry anymore over him.” Was all Kenny said, wiping stray tears away from my face, before pulling me into a hug. That was the last night I ever cried over Seth Rollins. 

We ended up ordering pizza and watching movies that night. Kenny had passed out half way through ‘The Greatest Showman’ mumbling about how he hates musicals. His head was in my lap, and I was running my fingers through those beautiful blonde curls. He had been my rock these last four months. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

At that moment, I realized that I was falling for him and that scared the shit out of me. Kenny made it so easy though. I did my best to push those thoughts down and finish the movie, but they were never far away. 

The next morning, I woke up, surprisingly in my bed, when I remember passing out on the couch with Kenny. I got out of the bed and padded to the living room. “Ken?” I called out, not seeing him on the couch. 

“Kitchen.” He replied instantly. I walked to the kitchen, finding Kenny, brewing coffee. “Morning, Princess.” He said, handing me a cup. I took the cup happily, needing the caffeine. “How did you sleep?” He asked, sipping his own coffee. 

“I swore I fell asleep on the couch, with you passed out in my lap.” I teased him, moving back into the living room to sit. Kenny followed close behind. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. But I woke up and you looked uncomfortable, so I moved you.” He explained, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. 

I smiled, getting myself comfy on the couch. "So Omega, what are your plans for the day?" I asked before blowing on my hot beverage. 

Kenny looked at me with a huge grin on his face. Since AEW started, Kenny rarely had a day off to himself. "I'm glad you asked, princess. You have me for the whole day." 

I squealed, almost spilling my coffee. "Lazy day with take out and movies? Or do you want to get presentable and go out?" I asked him. 

"Let's get dressed. I want to spend a day out with my best girl." Kenny replied, setting his cup on the table, standing up and extending a hand for me to take. 

"What about Kayfabe? I'm a heel now, won’t that mess with that baby face image of yours?" Kenny shook his head. 

"Peyton. Fuck Kayfabe. Let's go out. Please." He smiled sweetly, batting those long eyelashes. And who could resist those grey-blue eyes. 

I sighed, “Fine, we can go out and face the world.” I turned and sauntered back to my room to get dressed. I picked a maroon cami, jeans, and converses. I threw my chocolate brown hair into a messy bun, brushed my teeth, and joined Kenny in the living room again. He had gotten dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain black tee. Fuck, he looked good. 

He lifted his head at the sound of my footsteps. He raised an eyebrow at my outfit. I shrugged it off. “Ready to go, Omega?” I asked, grabbing my leather jacket off the rack by my door. He hopped up, and out the door we went. 

Kenny insisted that he drive, even though he was not used to Atlanta traffic. “So I have a surprise.” Kenny started, I hummed in response. “I got tickets to the aquarium. It was going to be a birthday surprise, but since we are here now, they traded days.” 

“Ken! Are you serious? I haven’t been there in forever.” I bubbled, smiling so big, it hurt. “You are seriously the best friend I could ever ask for.” I had mentioned the aquarium a month ago, when we were talking about things we wanted to do but never really had the time for. I couldn’t believe he actually listened. 

“You are more than welcome, Pey. I knew it would make you happy. Plus, I don’t think I’ve ever been to one.” Kenny confessed, casting a glance my way before his eyes returned to the road. Kenny really was all work and no play. 

“Well, I am honored to pop that cherry for you, Omega.” I giggle, placing a hand over my heart. I could see Kenny roll his eyes before smiling. The rest of the drive to the aquarium was full of laughs and singing. 

“I’m sorry, but how do people listen to this?” Kenny groaned as Brantley Gilbert flowed through the speakers. 

I scoffed, feigning offense. “Brantley Gilbert is a Georgia native, show some respect. If you can’t deal with his music then we can’t be friends.” I shrugged, turning to face the window, before exploding in laughter. I couldn’t help but feel so free with him, and I hoped he felt the same way. 

Arriving at the Georgia Aquarium, we quickly parked and made our way inside. We started with the tropical diver exhibit. The fish were beautiful, but nothing compared to the adult man standing next to me, looking like a small child. 

He stepped closer to me, bending down to whisper in my ear. “It took less than 5 minutes to be noticed.” I cut my eyes to my right, where a few people were taking pictures. I smiled and shook my head. 

“Just keep smiling and let’s have fun.” I whispered back, reaching a head out to him to follow me through to the next tank. Kenny’s words were floating in the back of my head the whole time ‘Fuck kayfabe’. 

The rest of the day went by in a blur. I had never seen Kenny look so care-free. By the time we got back to my apartment that night, the wrestling world was buzzing. Kenny and I had gotten settled and were watching ‘The Mandalorian’ when Cody sent me a text with a link. 

Not sure what’s going on.

You should see this. *link*

If you need me, let me know.

I clicked the link and it opened to a headline. 

PEYTON RHODES MOVES ON WITH KENNY OMEGA. 

From one main eventer to another, Peyton Rhodes has her eyes set on the best in the business.   

Beneath the headline, it showed a picture of us with Kenny’s arm around my waist as we looked at the shark exhibit. I was pointing out sharks, and Kenny’s eyes were trained on me. I showed Kenny and he just laughed. “Let them talk, princess.” He casually threw his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him and focused back on the show. I placed my phone on the cushion beside me, curled up closer to him, and shut out the world. 

[yvainegelinemarie]

How The MLQC Bois React When You Do A ‘Baby/Cutesy Talk’ To Them.

🖤🦋🖤Idk if anyone has done this one yet so here it goes...

𝚨𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖞 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌: ✨ ALL my writing promts are gender inclusive and promote love, kindness and fun for all! 

✨I know that each and every one of our boys would love and support each and everyone of you and I hope that my readings portray that comforting, accepting and loving nature through and through~ 

✨And with that I hope you Spookies enjoy~~

☪ 𝕱𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒: Mr. Love Queen’s Choice

☪ 𝕽𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌:18+  Has mild talk about sex, mentions drinking/alcohol. 

☪ 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖙 : Quick Read, bullet points 

𝕶𝖎𝖗𝖔|10/10

He eats the baby talk up!!! And does it right back to you with so much ease!

You guys have full on conversations with just the two of you using baby talk towards one another.

And you both have no problem doing it in public and annoying all your friends with how mushy and maybe a bit cringey you two can be.

Most of your baby talk conversations is the two of you whining back and forth about wanting food.

“Aww, Kiro can I pwlese haves a snack now? It’s been a few howers pwlesee?! 🥺🥺”

“Bwut what if I want a snack moreeeee?!”

You two stare at one another intensely with large, watery, puppy dog eyes and quivered lips.

Neither one of you is going down this easily over the remaining sweet candy that you have left. 

Kiro will ALWAYS use the cute talk on you when you are trying to keep him from eating sweets as Savin ordered. But the moment he brings out the cute voice and the puppy dog eyes you have lost.

It’s just so hard to not cave in to such a cute face!!! 

But it’s okay because he can’t resist yours either.

You and Kiro’s guttonness and cutesy manipulative ways towards one another can sadly only go on for so long before the fun comes to a painful hault.

It seems that you two have indulged in a little too much of the sweet treats, leaving you both to most likely take up a very simple yet painful month of dieting. 

Which is then filled to the max with pouty expressions and W words in hopes to just get one cookie from the bakery you passed on your daily run. 

𝓥𝖎𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖗|5/10

The world will NEVER know this side of Victor. 

He would probably throw himself off a bridge if anyone heard him use a cute voice towards you or anyone for that matter.

Even your future children and cute puppies will NEVER witness such a pure and child-like state with your stubborn CEO boyfriend. 

BUT surprisingly enough he has done it a few times.

You always tease him for it since he likes to make fun of you for when you try to use your cute voice to beg for pudding or a longer time for your deadlines. 

And although this tough looking CEO wouldn’t admit it, he likes seeing you pout your lip and add a W to every two words of sentence.

The one and ONLY time victor has ever used the cutesy voice on you was when you were really sick and asking for soup. 

He was caring for you for about a week now with little to no progress of your health improving. 

And aside for all the nagging you were getting from him for overworking yourself he was truly worried about you.

Now that your cold was coming to and end and with Victor in a tired state and comfortable enough to relieve himself of worry, along with being a bit flirtatious (probably from light sips of whisky he had been drinking to keep himself in motion) the cute words just kind of...slipped out...

You are in complete shock as your brain is trying to process what it just heard. 

Did Victor really just say “does my whittle dummy want some swoup?”

Trust me he is just as shocked as you are as he quickly escapes the bedroom with cheeks as red as a cherry.

He is so shocked in fact that it takes you a good three hours to get your soup so he could have some time to regain himself after the embarrassing encounter.

To this day he is still haunted by it as you taunt him every once in a while for it.

*poking his forehead lightly with playful giggles* “Aww, Come on Victor, don’t chu want to mwake me some swoup?” 

“If you have time to bother me then maybe I should consider raising your deadline to three days instead of the end of the week?” 

And with that you scurry out at lighting speed leaving Victor to wallow in his face palmed blushes. 

𝕷𝖚𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖓|8/10

Lucien LOVES the shit out of your cutesy talk.

BUT is probably the only one capable of not letting you get your way with it every time.

He loves to tease you not the other way around! 

His plans would be foiled if just your cute little voice defeated him.

He will however use a cute voice in comparison to yours. 

He likes when you say little words in a cute way like tank you instead of thank you or putting a w in pretty please 

and he will repeat them back to you the same way you said it. In a mocking yet flirtatious kind of way.

After a soft chuckle Lucien looks to you. “Pweety Pwlease?” He questions as you puff your cheeks at the fact that he doesn’t seem phased by your cuteness.

His eyes however, quiver with complete delight at just how cute you are to him.

Your Scorpio boi can only hide his feelings for so long and despite his calming expression his eyes alone can only hold what is truly running through his brain. 

There are times the Professor falls victim to your cute ways but they usually end in some more...explicit moments with you. 👀

You learn rather quickly that this seems to be one of the very few things you have in control over Lucien, unlike the multiple ways he has control over you. 

Though, your ways of manipulation are nothing to take lightly either. 

Lucien seems to be really focused with work right now. Staying up all day and all night eyes glued to books or his tablet filled with words that just give you a bit of a headache.

And despite not hating Lucien’s passion and hardworking energy towards his career you are now starting to realize that it’s been almost a month since you have been close and intimate with him.

So much so that you can’t even remember what his gorgeous body looks like under all that lab coat. 

And desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Setting yourself up into cutness overdrive and plopping yourself right down and in front of your boyfriends work and onto his lap 

along with a simple tilt of your head and eyes as wide as the moon doesn’t take long for all the blood to rush to you know where for Lucien. 

And when Lucien falls victim to you he FALLS. but he’s not a man who enjoys failure. (So be prepare for one intense and intimate ride.)

His sex drive and stamina is not something to question and if you sneeze just two octaves higher than normal 

you’ll most likely be attending his lecture with wet, shaking knees. 

𝕲𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖓|7/10

Also loves your baby talk and will say it back to you casually.

It is something that he only does around you though and doesn’t let anyone see.

Gavin is 100% those TikTok videos where the girls are recording their boyfriends cutesy talking to them and then instantly start talking in a deep voice the moment they see the camera. 😂

Will use it a lot when you aren’t feeling good and goes nutso bananas if you use it to reward him.( Kind of like a puppy. 😂)

“Was ywu a tood boyfwriend today? Wes. Wes you were.” *Gives Gavin happy head pats*

Gavin is also a huge sucker for your cute ways and will not hesitate to compliment you on your new hair accessory, the way you did your makeup, or how you added a new watch to match the bracelet he gave you.

He’s actually really good at paying attention to small details despite not being the romantic.

And with this you'll find him getting you cute treats and toys to cheer you up. 

And even if he truly doesn’t quite understand why you are so obsessed and squeal as loud as you can when you see pusheen he can’t say that he hates seeing how excited you get when admiring the cute and simple things of life.

One moment in particular that will always be engraved in Gavin’s head is seeing you hold the chubby grey cat plushie as much as you could in your arms

you were practically swallowed behind it, it was just as big as you were, if not more.

Seeing you walk through the store and doing your best to avoid falling over not daring to let go of the giant fluff ball of cuteness sent a pierce through Gavin’s heart.

How the hell can they be so cute?!? Was the only thought running through Gavin’s head the entire time. 

And once he regained his composure he helped guide you through the store by your arm. 

Sadly you had to part ways with the kitty plushie when a small child became just as in awe of it as you were and knowing she was the last one, handed it over kindly.

Seeing you a bit sad only put Gavin in a low mood before motivating him to an idea.

And with that; a few weeks later a new fluffy, plushie cat as big as your front door awaited the front of your apartment with a cute (is that letter blood stained???) note from Gavin. 

𝐒𝖍𝖆𝖜|-9000/10

Hatesssss! The baby talk with a passion and will not ever use it with you.

You made the mistake to use it on him once and the amount of awkwardness in his expression was overbearing.

The two of you just sat in your apartment blinking wide eyed at one another in silence.

Shaw broke the awkwardness first by just flat out saying “yeah, no.”

And with that you sulked back into your seat realizing that he didn’t seem phased at all by how cute you were.

And for a moment a bit ticked off. I am cute Shaw?! Don’t ignore me like that! UGH! He can be so nerve racking sometimes!!

Despite not being a big fan of the voice, after dating Shaw for a while you have come to find that he doesn’t mind you doing cute things with him like cuddling up together, squishing his cheeks, or rubbing your face on his ect.

Playing with his hair when he’s strumming away on his bass or latching onto his neck when his skateboard slips from under your feet are some of his favorite moments with you.

But the big eyes and pout get him ALL the time!

He will try his best not to be swayed by them especially when the tears seem genuine.

Shaw and your relationship is like when the older sibling hits the younger one and they start crying and the older one starts to freak out. That. That’s you and Shaw. 

𝕭𝖔𝖓𝖚𝖘|𝐒𝖍𝖆𝖜

When he gets drunk he uses the baby talk on you!

Will mumble on his words but tell you just how pretty and cute you are.

But you know that if you bring it up to him he will never drink around you again so you have to keep it as a little secret between you and your friends

You even have recordings and voice messages of him drunk off his ass and calling you just to say.

“Babbbyyyy, I mwissed ywu so muchhh!! Ywu are dhe pwrettiest girl I know and I luv ywu and I just want to kiss your cute wittle face!”

He’s also a very clingy and loving drunk who can’t seem to stop from covering your face in kisses.

It is most definitely a moment in time that you will happily remember for years and years. 

𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖓𝐤 𝖄𝖔𝖚!!! Spookies for giving this a read and for giving me the opportunity to share something fun and light hearted with you guys about all our favorite Evolvers. 

✨ I am hoping that more writings are to come to you guys from me but this is all a fairly new and a bit out of my comfort zone to do haha  so please be patient with me. 

✨ But please be open to comment feedback you may have through this post and In my asks on what you thought about this and if you guys enjoy more bullet point writings like this or would like more of a story style. I would love to hear what you guys have to say!!!