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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years ago

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Germs [Reid x Reader]

this gif isn’t mine

Summary: Reader is sure the resident BAU genius doesn’t like her, but she’s not sure why. But even if he did like her, he’s a germaphobe, so he wouldn’t be comfortable with the things she wants to do to him...would he?

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Rating: Mature

Category: Fluff and Smut

Content Warning: Brief mentions of torture and violence, usually criminal minds stuff, nothing explicit. Light choking, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, language (maybe?)

A/n: I have come out of fan fiction writing retirement for this one. Let me know what y’all think! masterlist

y/n - your name

y/l/n - your last name

italicized text is Reader’s sassy inner thoughts

---

I’m not sure if I believe in hell, but if there is a hell, I’m sure it feels exactly like Louisiana in July. Every time I walked outside I felt like I was walking into soup. Gross. I couldn’t help but feel guilty over my sigh of relief when I walked back into the local precinct the team was currently working out of. Young women are dying, and I’m worried about a little bit of heat.

But, fuck, it was hot.

Speaking of heat, I thought as I threw open the door to the conference room only to run smack into the hottest thing I’d ever encountered.

“Shit,” I exclaimed before I thought better of it. “I’m so sorry.” I ran my eyes up, up, up, all the way up his body until I met his eyes; those beautiful honey brown eyes that threatened to have me acting like an idiot if I stared into them for too long.

Dr. Spencer Reid’s cheeks were tinged pink, his posture stiff, his fingers clutching the file he was carrying for dear life. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” he sounded uncomfortable, which made my stomach drop. “My fault.” With that, he quickly maneuvered around me and headed off to complete whatever genius task he had to complete.

My eyes followed him until he was out of sight before I mentally shook myself. ‘C’mon, this is pointless,’ I thought. ‘He doesn’t even like you.’ Which I really thought was true, the good doctor went out of his way to avoid me whenever possible. ‘Plus, he’s a germaphobe.’ This thought was confirmed true. He didn’t shake people’s hands, the only people I’d seen him touch during my time at the BAU were members of the team that he’d known for years, and some of those even seemed reluctant.

Admittedly, I didn’t know a lot about germaphobia; since I couldn’t ask the only genius I knew, I did the next logical thing. I googled it. Every person I’d read about seemed to experience germaphobia differently. Some people could have sex, but others were grossed out by the very idea. Knowing my luck, Spencer Reid and his beautiful hands, and his soulful eyes, and his cheekbones that could cut glass was in the repulsed by sex category. Which is fine! Right, it is fine to not be interested in sex; the only problem was I was very interested in every part of him.

Maybe he thinks I’m gross. Maybe I stink? Maybe he’s just repulsed by my very presence. Regardless, I couldn’t see Spencer Reid ever shoving me against a wall and fucking me senseless.

I sighed, making my way over to the conference table, pulling out a chair before I flopped into it. I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones. We had been in Louisiana for almost a week now and we were still no closer to finding our unsub. He was a white man, he worked in a lower-paying job, and he hated women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow it down much.

The unsub was targeting women in clubs and bars, following them outside before he bashed them on the back of the head. After that, he threw the girls over his shoulder and took them to his car; he moved them to a secondary location before he tortured them. The first two victims had survived. They were traumatized, but they were fighters; they both said the same things, ‘he kept my eyes covered the entire time,’ “I never saw his face,’ ‘I did whatever he told me to do.’

We thought the killing of the third victim had been an accident, but that accident had excited our guy enough that he changed his ritual; the killing was crucial now. We had 4 bodies, 2 live victims that couldn’t tell us anything, and no leads.

Sighing, I leaned forward, bringing the heels of my hands to my eyes. I hated feeling helpless. The answer to who this fucker was is in this evidence somewhere and I will find it. If it’s the last thing I do.

The doors swung open again, pulling me from my thoughts. Hotch lead the parade of people, followed by Morgan, JJ, and Dr. Reid. Our unit chef looked gravely serious…not that that necessarily meant anything, in the 6 months I’d been with the behavioral analysis unit I hadn’t seen him have any other expression.

Morgan pulled out his phone, hitting what I suspected was speed dial number 1. “Hey baby girl,” he said, without his usual swagger; even he was tired. “You’re on speaker. You’ve got me, Hotch, JJ, Reid, and Y/l/n.”

“And I have the always wonderful Emily Prentiss, and the dashing David Rossi on the line, effectively putting my favorite people together again, as they should be,” Garcia quipped. I don’t think she meant to include me in her list of ‘favorite people,’ but it made me smile anyway. “Okay, crime fighters, what’s the play?”

“We’re still no closer to finding the unsub,” Hotch began. “He’s highly organized, methodical, and paranoid; but he hasn’t killed in 3 days, this is a break from his escalation pattern. He’s going to strike soon.” Hotch leaned over resting his palms on the shiny fake wood of the conference table. “Our best chance is to send an agent out there as bait.” There was a general murmur of agreement before he continued on. “Garcia, we need you to find all of the night clubs, bars, and whatever else you can think of in the updated comfort zone.”

The sound of keys clicking made its way through the speaker. “Assuming we’re excluding the places he’s already hit, that leaves us with 3 possibilities.”

“So far he hasn’t struck a place twice,” Prentiss chimed in. “Do we think he’s going to hold to that pattern?”

Reid moved over to the board where the map of the county was displayed. “I think so. This guy is too careful to risk going to a place where he’s been before. The chance of him being recognized is too great, especially when everyone is on high alert.” He gestured to the area he had circled on the map. “His pattern seems to be focusing in on this center point right here,” he said, placing a pin in the map. “This area means something. Garcia, what is the closest club or bar to the intersection of Washington Avenue and Harrison Street?”

“That would beeeeee…The Blue Fox.”

“That’s where he’ll be,” Dr. Reid said confidently, his eyes moving to Hotch’s face.

The older man nodded. “It’s our best lead so far, we have to run with it.”

“It’s Friday night,” Rossi pointed out. “We’ll have to act soon.”

Hotch nodded, seeming to be lost in thought. “We need to send agents in there tonight. We know the victims were all on dates or flirting with a man right before their abduction. He targets women that are happy with their companions then waits til he can separate them.”

“Who are you planning on sending in, Hotch?’ JJ questioned.

“Y/l/n is the youngest, she fits the build of the previous victims the best.” His heavy gaze rested on me. “What do you think?”

Like it was even a choice. “I’m in.”

Hotch nodded, accepting my answer. “Good. You’ll partner with Reid.”

“What?!” I squawked, much to my embarrassment. I cleared my throat before I continued. “But, Reid and I…I just thought Morgan would be the obvious choice.” Fuck, I’m just digging a bigger hole.

Morgan gave me an easy smile. “You’re just saying that because you wanna see my moves, little mama.”

Hotch cleared his throat, bringing our attention back. “Morgan is too intimidating; the unsub might not move in if he feels too threatened. You’ll go with Reid.” When he was met with silence he continued on, “alright, let’s get to work.”

And that is how I wound up in a club in Louisiana on a Friday night, in a tight black dress, with Spencer Reid beside me. After he walked into the club holding my hand. He doesn’t hold hands, I cringed internally at the thought. He must feel so uncomfortable.

He waved the bartender over, ordering a drink for me and a water for himself before turning to me. “I thought a drink would loosen you up a bit. You look nervous.”

I am nervous. “Right. Thanks.” I drummed my fingers on the bar, my gaze sweeping around the club for anyone who seemed out of place and especially creepy. Most lone men at clubs and bars were creepy, but we need especially creepy.

“Is that because you don’t think I can have your back?”

My head snapped back around. “What?”

Spencer paused to accept the drinks from the bartender, sliding him the money. “In the conference room. You seemed upset that Morgan wasn’t going to be your partner,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Is that because you think I wouldn’t have your back?”

Fuck. I blushed to the roots of my hair. “No, Spencer! God no! It’s not that, I know you’d have my back.” I took a sip of my drink before I said anything else. “It’s just that…you don’t seem to like me very much, and I know you have a thing about germs, and I thought maybe that’s why you didn’t like me.” I was babbling; I was absolutely babbling. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, that’s all. Morgan has never seemed uncomfortable around me, so…” I trailed off lamely.

The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement. “So, you didn’t want to partner with me on this because you didn’t want me to be uncomfortable?”

I nodded, fidgeting with the straw in my drink.

Spencer moved closer to me, his right hand coming to rest on the small of my back. He seemed as calm as he could be, meanwhile I suddenly had trouble breathing.

It’s for the case. He has to do this for the case. Calm down.

"What do my issues with germs have to do with this?" he wondered, leaning closer to me. I could feel his breath on my neck; my skin broke out in goosebumps.

Double fuck. “Well, we’re supposed to be…together. And you think I’m gross. What if you have to kiss me?” TRIPLE FUCK. “Not that we’d have to kiss,” I tried to backpedal. “But we might, you never know. And I just didn’t…I don’t want you to dislike me more than you do.”

The teasing smile slipped from his face, the fingers on my lower back flexing slightly. He regarded me with a tilt of his head. "You're serious?" At my shaky nod, he continued. "Y/n, I don't think you're gross."

“You don’t?” I squeaked.

He lifted his hand from my back then, sliding it up to my shoulder, his free hand moving from the bar to rest on my hip. Spencer brushed my hair back before he leaned forward. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I felt his lips touch the tender skin of my neck. My eyes fluttered shut, unable to suppress a gasp at the contact. Spencer Reid’s beautiful lips slid down to the place where my neck and shoulder met, then I felt his teeth nip the skin before he placed another kiss there. He worked his way back up towards my ear, the hand on my hip moving slightly so he was almost grabbing my ass. “I don’t think you’re gross,” he breathed, causing me to shudder. I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Germs don’t bother me in that way, especially around people I know. I wouldn’t have a problem kissing you, baby.”

I was going to need new panties after this. Spencer Reid, awkward, sweet, Dr. Spencer Reid just called me Baby.

“…Oh.” Really, y/n. Oh; you went with oh?

The good doctor pulled back, his face close enough to mine that I could see that he had freckles under his eyes and that those beautiful eyes got more golden towards the center. "Oh."

Michael Watkins was the name of our unsub. He was a short white man with a receding hairline and a bad temper. His last relationship had ended 3 months before the first attack; Spencer was right to pick this bar. Shortly after he tried to make my pussy combust with his neck kisses, Reid suggested I walk to the bathroom, assuring me he’d be watching if anyone followed.

Watkins’ hand was in my hair, dragging me outside before I made it to the ladies’ room. I felt a jolt of fear as I struggled to escape, strands of hair being ripped from my head. I shouldn’t have worried, because no sooner had the outside door opened than I heard the velvety voice of Derek Morgan. “FBI! Put your hands where we can see them.”

He attempted to run. Why would anyone try to run from Derek Morgan?

After the medics confirmed I was okay, I was sent back to the hotel while the rest of the team went with the local police to book Watkins and try to get a full confession.

“Good work,” Hotch said, his hand clapping down on my shoulder.

The highest praise I’ll ever need.

I hopped into the shower right when I got back to my room, not wanting Watkins’ touch on me for a moment longer.

Spencer’s touch, however,…That was a touch I wouldn’t mind having on me. But he’d barely looked at me once he made it outside. I knew he was being affectionate in there because of the case, we were playing a role. I knew that. I still couldn’t stop the twinge of hurt I felt.

But he doesn’t think I’m gross. That had to count for something.

I had just got done blow drying my hair enough so that it wouldn’t look too crazy when I woke up when there was a knock on my door. Figuring it was Emily, I didn't consider the fact that I was in my pajamas, and my face was scrubbed free of makeup.

It wasn’t Emily. Spencer Reid stood on the other side of my door, his eyes running down my body before he met my bewildered stare again. “You look comfy,” he commented with that damn little smile on his lips again.

“Oh. Yeah. I took a shower.” Way to go, y/n, you’re really killing it tonight.

“I see that,” he said, his cheeks going a little bit pink. “Can I come in? I thought we should talk.” Was he nervous? Why would he be nervous?

I ushered him in, shutting the door behind him. He sat on the bottom edge of my bed; his body angled towards the headboard. I briefly debated about where to sit before I joined him. Don’t make it weird, y/n.

He cleared his throat before he began. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight. I just wanted to make sure we got the guy.”

Right. “Oh, it’s okay, Spencer. I get it. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” I picked at the frayed edge of my sleep shorts, my eyes dropping so he didn’t see anything on my face that betrayed how I was feeling; you can’t be too careful around profilers.

His hand reached out to cover my own fidgeting hands, one of his hands covering both of mine. His hands were so big. His fingers were so long, the veins in his hands were so pronounced. I bet those fingers would feel really – FOCUS.

“I’m also sorry you thought I didn’t like you.” His thumb had started to move slowly over the back of my hand. “I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. I just…” I brought my gaze back up to meet his eyes. “I just get nervous sometimes.”

“You didn’t seem nervous in the club.”

“No,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t nervous then because it was my job. I wasn’t worried about misreading a signal…doing the wrong thing…I’m not the best with social cues.” I had noticed that about him before. “But I am a really good profiler.” And he’s humble too, apparently.

“I know that you couldn’t fake your reaction to me in the club. Your breathing became quicker, I felt your pulse jump under my lips when they were on your neck. I saw how blown your pupils got." He shifted closer to me then, bringing his other hand up to push my hair behind my shoulder like he did earlier in the night. "Just like they are now."

He leaned closer to me, his voice was lower, and it made my stomach flutter. "You're clenching your thighs together, Y/n. Your shirt may be baggy, but I can see how hard your nipples are too." His tongue ran out to wet his lips. "If I'm wrong, just tell me now. If I've misread this, I will leave right now, and we can pretend this never happened." Spencer brought both his hands up to cradle my face; despite how wet my panties were, how tight my nipples are, how badly I wanted him to touch me, this gesture made me feel special. He was holding me like he actually cared about me like I was precious. "But, if I'm not wrong, and you want this too, Y/n, tell me. Tell me you want this too and I won't stop touching you until you scream my name."

I let out a soft whimper then. Like it’s a choice. “I want this,” I leaned into his touch. “Please, Spencer.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, what, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than his lips were on mine. His lips were softer than I imagined, they were firm and almost…questioning. When I nipped at his bottom lip, something seemed to break free inside of him. His lips slanted over mine with a hunger I had never felt. His tongue ran over my bottom lip before I opened for him. Spencer’s tongue moved into my mouth while his hands moved; one hand moved back to grip my hair at the base of my skull, tugging firmly, the other moved down to my neck, not applying any pressure, just resting it there in a gesture that felt possessive.

The need for oxygen broke us apart, his lips moving across my cheek to my jaw, then down to my neck. “How could you think I didn’t like you?” he mumbled into my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me. None.”

I threw my head back when he sucked on my pulse point, a moan ripping from my throat. “W-what…what do I do?”

Pulling back from me, he gripped the bottom of my shirt, looking at me for consent before he pulled it over my head. His eyes were firmly on my chest, his lips parted, his breathing heavy. He pushed me down slowly on the bed; I was on my back and he was hovering over me. I felt his mouth place hot, wet, kisses from my collarbone down towards my breasts. His right hand landed on my breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over my nipple while his lips moved closer and closer to my left. I tangled my hands in his hair, urging him forward.

“You want to know what you do to me?” he raised his head slightly, making sure my eyes were on him when he flicked his tongue over my nipple, causing me to gasp. “What do you do to me in your little skirts, with your little smiles, and your little laughs?” He gave my nipple a sharp pinch. “You’re all I fucking think about, y/n.” With a growl, he finally took my nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. He switched to the other breast while he adjusted himself over me, bringing his pelvis down to rest at the seam of my body between my thighs. I shifted restlessly under him, trying to grind my pussy against him. He was so fucking hard.

With a groan, he lifted his head and started kissing his way towards the middle of my chest, moving down to the curve of my stomach. “Do you know how many times I came back to my hotel room after spending all day with you and was so hard I had to cum before I could think of anything else?” he peppered kisses down my body as he spoke.

My eyes shot open at this confession that he seemed to think was no big deal. “What?” I couldn’t believe this. “You…you touched yourself and thought of…”

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and panties, taking my raised hips as an invitation to remove both from my body. "You. I thought of you." He threw my clothes on the floor, pulling my legs open. His eyes moved over all of me, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. “I thought about kissing you. About making you squirm for me.” He ran his fingers up and down my thighs, his mouth running slowly over my inner thighs. Spencer’s hands hooked around my upper thighs, moving me to where he wanted me. “But, most of all, I thought about this pretty pussy.” He placed a kiss on my clit, chuckling at the wanton moan that came from me and how my fingers tangled in his soft brown curls. “I thought about all the different ways I could make this pretty pussy cum all over me.” With that, he ran his tongue up my slit before flicking it over my clit.

Dr. Spencer Reid was good at everything, so of course, he was good at this too. His mouth moved over me, watching my reaction to see what I liked best. His tongue moved in circles around my clit before slipping down to my opening. His tongue plunged inside me, fucking me, while his thumb came over to rub my clit.

“Spence- fuck- Spencer, please.” My hips tried to shift restlessly, but his arms were iron bars holding me still. He slowly moved his left forearm to rest across my hips, bringing his right hand down to my throbbing pussy. He pulled his mouth away from me, much to my dismay. He pushed one finger, then another into me. My head thrashed wildly, and my thighs started to shake. “Spencer!”

He just smirked and curled his fingers, hitting the spot inside me that made everything in my body pulse. “What, baby?”

My breaths were coming in gasps, my voice was a needy whimper. “Make me cum, Spencer. Please, please make me cum.”

He needed no other encouragement. His fingers continued their steady thrust in and out of me while his mouth covered my clit again. He alternated between flicking my clit with his tongue, then circling it before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly.

“Spencer.” I felt my orgasm rising. “Spencer don’t- don’t stop. I’m gonna cum, please make me cum.”

He kept his pace steady, sucking on my clit, moaning at my words. His eyes had been closed, but at that moment they opened and met mine. Then I felt his teeth ghost over my clit, I saw the want in his eyes. That was my undoing. My back arched, my mouth hung open in a silent scream. I heard myself say his name over and over again. Spencer pushed his fingers inside me, massaging me through the most powerful orgasm I had ever had. With one final kiss on my oversensitive clit, he withdrew his fingers, putting them into his mouth to suck my orgasm off of them.

He kissed back up my body, and I tried to respond, but I was still so shattered. I had never felt anything so powerful before. He cupped my face in one hand and kissed me slowly. I returned the kiss, moving my hands to the buttons of his shirt.

Spencer broke the kiss, pulling back to look at me again. “Hang on, baby.” His hand came up to still my own. “We can take a second. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

This beautiful man smiled at me then. I felt my heart flutter when he leaned down to pepper soft kisses along my jaw, his thumb coming up to wipe a tear that fell from the corner of my eye that I hadn’t even noticed.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. He shifted to lay beside me, whispering reassurances to me while I came back down. This was just one of the ways that Spencer was so different from every other man. I didn't feel rushed, or pressured. I could feel how hard he still was, I could feel the tension in his body, but he simply kissed me while he cupped my jaw.

He made me feel…cherished.

I moved my hands to tangle in his hair again, deepening our kiss. He didn’t move my hands away when I started to work on the buttons of his shirt. The fire that I thought had been calmed by my orgasm had come roaring back. Spencer moved his hands to his belt while I finished with his shirt. His shirt came off, tossed in the same direction as my clothes. I pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, watching his cock spring free.

Everything about him was painfully beautiful. His angular cheekbones, the jaw that looked like it was carved from granite, even the toned muscles of his body. He had a small trail of hair that went down from his belly button to his groin. His cock laid against his stomach, the head glistening with precum.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, kneeling beside him, running my eyes over his body.

His soft hand came to grab mine, pulling it to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand, smiling softly at me.

I moved to straddle him, lower on his thighs. I took him in my hand, moving up and down, twisting my wrist as I neared the tip, swiping my thumb over his head.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Y/n, as much as I want you to do…whatever the fuck you want with me, I’m so close. I feel like I’m going to explode.” I bit into my bottom lip, unable to totally stop the smile spreading over my face. “Please, I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He moved his hands to my hips, urging my body forward.

I raised up on my knees, taking him in my hand again, lining him up with my entrance. The tendons in his neck were strained, his fingers gripped my hips so hard I knew I was going to have bruises tomorrow. As I slowly started to sink down on his cock, Spencer let out the sexiest groan I had ever heard. His eyes were fixed where our bodies were joined, watching his dick slid deeper inside of me.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “You’re doing so good. Just a little bit more.”

He was so long, he wasn't overly thick, but just thick enough to cause a pleasurable stretching when he breached me that was almost painful. I gasped out a sound that might have been his name when he bottomed out inside me. I slowly circled my hips, adjusting to him. Spencer’s nails dug into my hips as he forced himself to stay still.

“Please move, y/n. Please. You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned as my walls fluttered around him. “Do you like it when I talk to you? Does that make your pretty pussy wetter?” He smirked at my whimper as I tightened around him.

I began at a slower pace, trying to tease him. Spencer quickly lost patience with that; he thrust his hips upwards, meeting my movements, his hands pushing me down onto him. I leaned forward, bracing on hand on his shoulder, the other on the bed. He pounded into me while I tried to match his pace. Spencer’s hand moved from my hip up to wrap around my throat. I nodded, forcing my eyes to stay open as he moved inside me.

His fingers squeezed slightly, pulling my face closer to his. Our lips met in a sloppy kiss. My thighs burned from matching his movements. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” His grip on my neck tightened ever so slightly, which only heightened my arousal. “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

He flipped us over quickly, never pulling completely out of me. Spencer moved to push my legs further apart, the change in angle allowing him to fill me deeper than I thought possible. His hair was sticking to his brow, his cheeks were flushed, his breathing erratic. He was the most fucking beautiful thing I had ever seen.

One hand held my leg, the other went down to my pussy, his thumb moving over my clit at a rapid pace. “Tell me what you need, Pretty Girl. Tell me how to make this pretty pussy cum all over me.”

I whined at his words. “Spencer, I-“ my voice broke off. I was so fucking close. "I need you." He seemed to understand my broken plea. He brought his body down, his chest flush against mine. He rocked into me at such a fast and hard pace. His hand still in between us rubbing circles around my clit.

I felt his lips ghost over my ear. “I want to fucking hear you, y/n.” His speed increased, his thrust getting choppier. He was close. “I want this whole fucking town to hear what you sound like when I make you cum. When you cream all over my dick, I want you to scream my name.” With that, he moved his mouth down my neck. He bit the same tender area he had kissed in the club, where my neck met my shoulder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, Spencer!" I felt myself begin to splinter apart. “Please make me cum, fuck please.” My babbling finally broke as my orgasm tore through me. I couldn’t hear his deep groan when I came, my scream was too loud. I felt the vibration against my neck. It was only as I started to float down that I realized my nails were dug into his back. With a few last thrust and my name on his lips, I felt Spencer pulse, cumming inside me.

We lay there for a few minutes, just breathing before he rolled off of me. I felt overwhelmed, so I was relieved when he tugged me over to him. He wrapped his arm around me when I laid my head on his chest. I felt his lips on my forehead. “It’s very important for women to urinate after sexual intercourse to avoid UTIs, but you have another minute or so before that becomes more urgent.”

I couldn’t control my laugh at his comment. "Thanks, Doc." I kissed his chest. "Only you could make me cum so hard I almost blackout, then go back to being…you." I slowly untangled myself from him, going to the bathroom to handle business. When I returned, I found Spencer where I left him, his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, one hand resting behind his head, the other over his heart. He looked so lost in that moment.

“Spencer?” I asked, crawling on to the bed. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t pretend that something wasn’t bothering him. “When you said that I just go back to being me…Do you not like that?”

My heart broke a tiny bit at the question. “Spencer, no! I love that! I love your little facts and statistics!” How did he not know that? “The best part of my day is listening to you talk. Just being with you is wonderful.” I cupped his face, bringing his gaze to mine. “Sure, I like what we just did; but I liked you before that. I want both.” Fuck. “Assuming you want me,” I rambled quickly. “This doesn’t have to mean anything, I know that it doesn’t always-“

He cut me off by pressing his lips to mine in the sweetest kiss I had ever felt. It was filled with hope and promise and…Spencer.

“It means everything to me, Y/n.”

I didn’t see the rest of the team until the next morning when we all boarded the jet; I was so ready to go home. I personally didn’t think anything appeared that different. Spencer sat beside me on the couch, but that wasn’t weird…right? We were just co-workers, sitting beside each other super casually. Had we spent most of last night and a little bit of this morning screwing each other’s brains out? Certainly. But you couldn’t see that…right?

Morgan’s chuckle is what confirmed I was so wrong. “Hey, y/l/n,” he called, smiling so hard it looked like his face would split from his amusement. “You missed a spot.” He pointed towards his own neck.

There was a beat of silence before Hotch snorted. SSA Aaron Hotchner, the man who never found anything funny was laughing at me.

I felt myself turn tomato red, angling my body towards Spencer’s, burying my head against his shoulder, away from the rest of the team.

“I bet you’re glad pretty boy was your partner now, huh?”

I may have wanted to melt into the floor in embarrassment, but it was sort of worth it to see the blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #Dr Reid #Spencer reid fic #Spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid fics #criminal minds #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds smut #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n

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perfectlywrongformend3s · 3 years ago

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Starstruck- Louis Partridge x Reader

Hey! I had a request. that's actually an idea that you can use if you like it :) ok so it can be a louispxreader and the reader is a singer. they meet in a Ceremony and they become friends and maybe after a while they fall for each other and confess? you can change it however you want it. thanks <3

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 2943

Warning: Just lots of fluff

Taglist: @girlincrimson

A/n: Sorry for not getting to you sooner. I am going to try to get out imagines and request as best I can this week. I am booked with work all week this week. Also requests are open.

I changed a little bit of it, but most of it is still the same as you requested.

P.s The songs that I will be using are not mine, they belong with the talented writers and their respectful owners.

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Your POV

I was in my dressing room waiting to be called to go on stage when I got a notification from instagram. I saw that the actor Louis Partridge followed me. I decided to do some stalking and found some really interesting photos and pictures of him. While I was looking at this one photo of him getting his makeup done I accidentally liked the photo. I then immediately started panicking, because I didn't mean to like it. Before I could do anything about it, I was called to go on stage.

I grabbed my guitar and slowly made my way up to the front of the stage. I could feel the excited energy rising off the fans that came to the show tonight. I felt a smirk form on my face when the lights came on. I heard all the fans start screaming, which made me let out a little giggle into the microphone.

“ How is everyone doing tonight!” I shouted into the mic

I laughed at how everyone was screaming again. I decided to start off with my most popular song right now. I started playing the chords to my song ‘ Good 4 you’

“ Ah. Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily. You found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks. Remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world? (Ah-ah-ah-ah)”

I then made the crowd sing along with me.

“ Well, good for you. You look happy and healthy. Not me. If you ever cared to ask.”

I let the crowd scream the lyrics while I continued to play the guitar. I then grabbed the microphone and screamed..

“ Well, good for you, I guess you’re gettin’ everything you want. (Ah) You brought a new car and your career’s really takin’ off (Ah) It’s like we never even happened.”

While singing, I walked up the front and held the microphone close to them and let them scream the lyrics.

I then jumped in with them.

“ Person who ever got you? Well, screw that and screw you. You will never have to hurt the way you know that I do.”

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Louis POV

I was on the set of Enola Holmes when my phone buzzed indicating that I got a notification. I pulled it out to find the most famous singer I was in love with and liked one of my photos. I was just staring at my screen when my phone got snached out of my hand.

“ Ooh, what’s got you blushing like that? It looks like you turned into a very red tomato.” I heard Millie speak

I watched her face change from teasing to super shocked. I still felt shocked.

“ What! How?” She spits out

I shrugged my shoulders in response. Millie then gave me a playful glare. “ What do you mean you don’t know?”

I gave Millie a look of confusion. “ Millie, I just don’t know how she found my account. I mean I follow her but I don’t think she would ever follow me.”

She just nodded her head and handed my phone back. I then slid it into my pocket before we had to go back to our scene together.

Your POV

I was getting closer to the end of my new song so I went back to my microphone stand and put the mic back in its place before lowering my voice.

“ Maybe I’m too emotional, But your apathy’s like a wound in salt. Maybe I’m too emotional, or maybe you never cared at all. Maybe I’m too emotional, Your apathy is like a wound in salt.” I started leaning into my microphone and started getting my voice ready to shout soon. “ Maybe I’m too emotional, or maybe you never cared at all.” I then let the crowd sing the chorus until I shouted into the mic “ LIKE A DAMN SOCIOPATH!” I heard the crowd scream loud when I did that so I let out a giggle before continuing my song.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was now sitting down on my stool that one of my band mates brought over for me. I was strumming my acoustic guitar on my lap to my next song while talking to my fans.

“ How is everyone doing tonight?”

I got back a bunch of screams and I even heard some responses back which made me smile. “ Alright guys the show is wrapping up soon-” Before I could continue I heard the crowd “ Aww” in response. “ You guys are funny, but I have had such an amazing time hanging out and singing for you guys. I just want to let you know I have about two more songs for you guys. So the first song I want to play for you guys is ‘ Happier’ and then the last and final song of the night is going to be' ‘Good Boy’’.”

I gave the crowd a smile before going back to playing the chords to my song ‘ Happier’

I got closer to the mic and sang the first words…

“ We broke up a month ago.Your friends are mine, you know I know. You’ve moved on, found someone new. One more girl who brings out the better in you. And I thought my heart was detached. From all the sunlight of our past. But she’s so sweet, she’s so pretty, Does she mean you forgot about me?”

I then stop singing for a little while with a small frown on my face before looking up to find the crowd with their phone lights out. I gave a small smile before going back to a frown. I then sang..

“ Oh, I hope you’re happy, But not like how you were with me. I’m selfish, I know, I can’t let you go. So find someone great, but don’t be happier.”

I then pointed for the crowd to take over the singing for a little bit while I played the chords.

Louis POV Millie and I just finished our last scene of the movie so we had to change out of our outfits and head to the place where we were meeting the rest of the cast and crew members for a one last dinner event.

I was the last to arrive as per usual, so we all laughed it off before having a great time with each other before heading off in different directions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once I was back to my house I fell into my bed and layed there for quite some time. I got interrupted with a text message, so I grabbed my phone and said Millie sent me a link to something. Without thinking I clicked on it and saw that it was a video of Y/n singing one of her popular songs. I smiled while watching it due to my huge crush on her, if I ever met her in real life I probably would pass out in front of her.

Your POV

After I sang my last line of my last song I yelled into the mic…

“ I LOVE YOU LONDON! SEE YOU REAL SOON AGAIN!”

I then ran off stage and headed to my dressing room to pack my things to then get on my toru bus that will take me to my hotel that I was staying at. While I was sitting on the bus I decided to post a couple of my pictures I took and put them on my instagram page. After I did that I then decided to stalk that actor I saw on my feed.

‘Time Jump’

It was one of the most important days of my life because I was nominated for an award at the Grammys. So I was with my make up team and someone was helping me with my outfit also. It was a simple but fashionable dress with some simple black high heel shoes.

Third Person POV

Louis was heading to the Grammy’s because of his new movie getting picked for one of the categories, but Y/n also got a nomination for Top artist, and album of the year. The both of them were so close to seeing each other in real life and they didn’t expect each other to be so starstruck.

Louis’s POV

I was walking around the red carpet with Millie when she got asked to do an interview so I stood back and waited for her to be done. While I was waiting I heard a familiar laugh being heard only a couple of feet ahead of me. I then snapped my head into the direction to find the one and only Y/n Y/l/n laughing with the person interviewing her. It took me a little while to process everything that was going around me because I could only see her in the room. I felt my heart start beating faster and felt my hands start shaking a little bit.

Millie’s POV

I was finally done with my interview when I saw Louis staring at something so I followed his eyes and saw him staring at Y/n. I felt a smirk form on my lips and pulled him over to her with all the strength I had in me. I heard him telling me to stop but I didn’t listen since I waited to meet her too.

Your POV

I was talking to someone when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder which made me turn my head. I saw a teenage girl and a teenage boy behind me, so I smiled before giving them my attention.

“ Hi, I’m Millie Bobby Brown and this is my friend Louis Partridge.” she said

“ Hi, Are you guys fans? Also, are you guys by any chance actors in this movie called Enola Holmes?” I questioned

Millie looked at me shocked and nodded her head. I gave her a smile before holding my arms out to give her a hug. I felt her wrap her arms around me. “ I am such a big fan of your music and I could say the same for him back there too.”

I let out a giggle before releasing her and looked behind her to find Louis just staring. I walked over to him and gently put my hand on his shoulder which made him jump. I raised an eyebrow “ Are you good?” He then just gave me a nod. I turned my head due to hearing Millie speak.

“ He was just in shock. He's in love with you.”

Louis’s POV

I felt my face getting hotter by the minute and glared at Millie. She gave me an innocent look and smirked before walking off and leaving me with Y/n. I saw her turn around and smile at me.

“ So in love with me.” She teased

I gave out a chuckle before scratching the back of my neck and looking back at her. I was about to answer her but someone told us to head to the seats to hear the winners. I watched her walk away and smiled before heading to my seat next to Millie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once the awards were over I decided to search for Y/n before leaving to head back to my hotel room. I saw her getting hugs from people so I stood back.

Your POV

I smiled at everyone and turned due to feeling eyes on me. I saw Louis and smiled at him. I walked over to him and gave him a hug and whispered. “ Congrats on your award.” I felt his breath on the side of my neck and heard him doing the same to me. I then pulled back due to hearing my name and slipped a piece of paper to him before kissing the side of his cheek.

Third Person POV

Louis stood there with a shocked expression again. He then looked down at the piece of paper to find her number and a message that said ‘ call me’. He then felt himself smile before heading back to his hotel to rest up.

‘Time Jump’

Y/n was chilling in her apartment writing a song when she heard her phone ring. She picked it up to find an unknown number, but just answered it hoping it would be Louis.

“ Hello?” she said with caution

“ Hi” she heard him say

Which made her let out a little giggle. “ I thought you would never call me.” she responded with. Louis chuckled on the other end. “ Yea, sorry about that. I was a little scared to call you.” Before he could say anything else he heard giggles coming from the other end of the line.

“ Why Louis?” Louis thought hard about what his next response was going to be because he didn’t want to straight up say because we were meant to be together or I was just scared of rejection. Louis finally decided to just ask..

“ Y/n.” he took a pause “ I was wondering if you would like to go out to dinner with me?”

Your POV

I let out a gasp when I heard those words and started nodding but forgetting he couldn't see me so I said..

“ Ofcourse, I will go out with you, Louis.”

Then we just chatted about our days for the rest of the day.

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The day my date with Louis came so quickly then I could have blinked and I was not prepared. I ran all over my house looking for things to finish off my outfit before it was time to go.

I heard a knock on my door indicating that he was here so I slipped on my heels and carefully made my way to the door. Once I opened it I was met with those hazel eyes that I fell in love with.

“ Wow, you look stunning.” he said

I felt myself start blushing. I then took in his look and stated that… “ Well you look really handsome.”

He then held his hand out for me to take. “ My lady,” he said in his accent, which made me let out a small giggle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were coming up to the end of the date already. He took me to this beautiful restaurant where we are now sharing a piece of cake. I saw him staring at me so I questioned him.

“ What?”

He let out a soft chuckle. “ Nothing, you're just really beautiful looking under this light.”

I felt myself start to blush which made me look down. Before I knew it I felt two fingers lift it back up. “ Don’t look down, you're gorgeous when you get all flustered.” That only made me blush harder. “ Stop.” I said giggling which made him chuckle.

Before I knew it we were back in his car driving back to my place. I was looking out the window when I felt him put his hand on my leg, which sent chills all over my body. I then put my hand on top of his and intertwined our fingers together. I smiled at the thought of us going on more dates.

Louis’s POV

I pulled into her driveway and parked my car. I turned to face her when I saw her already looking at me. I then released her hand and got out of the car to go to her side and open it for her. I walked her to her door where we both stood there for a little while. I then took a risk and leaned forward. I could feel her breath on me, I then closed the gap between us. I could feel her smile into the kiss before I felt her wrap her arms around the back of my neck. I wrapped my arms around her waist to pull her in to me more. She pulled away but kept her forehead against mine.

“ I really like you Louis.” She whispered against my lips

I smiled and said, “ I really like you too Y/n.”

I then leaned in again to give her another goodnight kiss before heading off. I walked over to my car and got in, I then waved at her with a smile on my face and pulled out of the driveway.

Third Person POV

Y/n watched Louis drive off into the distance. She felt a smile creep on her face before heading inside to dream about her date with him. Louis felt the same as her. He felt all giddy inside and he could help but smile at the thought of her. He was already planning the next date for them to go on together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Man this is long, but it was worth it because I got major butterflies from writing this for you. I hope you enjoy and if you would like more Louis then comment and I definitely write more of him.

-Samantha

#louis partridge #elona holmes #louis partridge imagine #louis partridge x reader #louis partridge fanfic #louis partridge x you #Louis Partridge fic #Louis Partridge x y/n #Louis Partridge x you #louis partridge fluff #fluff #requested #starstruck #mine

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itsuki-minamy · 2 years ago

Text

K - ONE YEAR LATER

CHAPTER 4: NEKO. BEFORE THE TEST. CANNED (BY TATSUKI MIYAZAWA)

* List of Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

A year has passed since then.

Neko was determined.

She said that she would not go anywhere all day and would continue studying.

She has been a year since she transferred to Ashinaka High School. She managed to keep up with the class itself, but she still wasn't good at studying.

Also, recently, she went out for a picnic with Shiro and Kuro, she went shopping with her friends in Shizume (although she was terrified of the Strain manipulating mud there), and she played a lot.

Therefore, before the final exam, on the last Sunday, Neko rejected various temptations and invitations to play and decided to stay at home for a whole day.

The necessary preparations for that were made from the day before, and she was in a good mood and physical condition.

First, she got up early at 6 am.

Normally, on holidays, Neko would rumble in bed until 10 o'clock, but that day, in addition to the alarm clock she usually uses, she also set an alarm on the PDA, rubbed her sleepy eyes, and left the room.

Surprisingly, even though it was so early in the morning, Kuro had already done all the housework and was about to leave the house.

"What, Neko. You really got up."

Kuro said as if he was slightly surprised. She then got a friendly look.

"That's good, that's right. The sandwiches I made are in the fridge, so eat them later. And don't get too rooted."

He told her that and left. Kuro was busy with various things because he was approaching the tournament of the Kendo club, which he was taking care of as a temporary advisor.

Neko waved her hand at him, saying that he should go, and Kuro again thought that it was weird.

She then returned to the living room and began to eat the breakfast that Kuro had prepared for her.

She thought that she would wait for Shiro to wake up, but she wanted to get something in her stomach early.

Neko was the type that she couldn't think of anything when she was hungry.

After flattening the white rice, miso soup, pickles, and salmon fillets, she takes the dishes to the sink and gives them a light wash. She then boiled water, added green tea, placed textbooks and notebooks in the chabudai and a timer, which was an essential item for Neko to study.

"Ok, I will!"

She raised her arms and began.

The timer sounded.

It meant that quite a bit of time had passed. Neko stretched, craned her neck and twisted her wrist. Then she yawned, she drank tea and looked at the textbook exactly three minutes later.

Concentrate enough.

And take a three-minute break. At that time, be sure to drink a sip of tea.

This was Neko's study routine.

It wasn't something she had created herself, but it was the optimal on-off rhythm created by Shiro, who took the trouble to take her to a specialized research facility and thoroughly analyze the trend of Neko's brain waves and her DNA.

Neko transferred to high school a year ago, but until then she had barely received a school education.

As a bonus, Neko who had just entered school was not bad at all, but she was tired and lacked concentration.

Therefore, Shiro first gave her a comprehensive lecture on how to study, and then taught her the knowledge one by one following the fields and stages of elementary and middle school students.

Shiro's lesson policy is:

"Efficient iteration and clear choice."

Shiro, who is in the genius category, spent a considerable amount of time acting as Neko's exclusive tutor.

As a result, she had managed to reach the level of academic ability to study on her own for high school exams.

Of course, Shiro's guidance was good, but this result was obtained because Neko was desperately eating.

When rang the third bell and suddenly raised her face, Shiro was smiling.

"Shiro!"

Neko happily raised her voice.

He was already up, and he was changing out of his nightwear for a nice jacket.

He must have been gently killing the sound and preparing not to interfere with Neko's study.

"Good morning, Neko. It's a good concentration. If you do six sets correctly, you'll rest for thirty minutes."

"Yes, that's fine."

Neko gave a thumbs up. And three minutes later, she went back to lawfully studying.

Shiro continued to observe the situation from the other side of the chabudai.

Then, when Neko finished six sets of study time focused on math review, Shiro had breakfast at the end of the break.

At that time, Neko also took out Kuro's special rice cake from the refrigerator and ate it as a snack. She was happy to feel that the sugar had settled on her tired head.

Shiro had a friendly chat with Neko, and when he finished eating the rice, he washed the dishes in the sink and walked out as Kuro.

Neko did the same as when Kuro left.

"Iterasshai!" (See you later!)

She saw him leave. Now Shiro is not only a teacher at Ashinaka High School, but he also has various responsibilities and is busy every day.

Neko knew that he was in frequent contact with "Scepter 4" and the "Tokijikuin" hospital to do a great job.

She doesn't know the details, but she believes that it is very important for the future of this world.

And Shiro had postponed starting the big business until she got acquainted with the school, filling in the academic ability that Neko lacked.

Of course Shiro never said that, but Neko intuitively realized that.

That's one of the reasons why Neko makes an effort to study.

(Shiro, do your best at work. I'll do my best to study so you don't worry about it!)

This is how Neko wants to thank him.

Even after Shiro left, Neko continued to make her way to the desk, but the tension didn't last long after all.

Especially the environment where there was only one person in the house, shook her concentration.

If there is something she doesn't understand or is difficult to understand, the number of yawns will inevitably increase, her sitting posture will collapse, and she will eventually fall on the chabudai.

And she began to sleep as she was.

It was then that,

"Neko, what are you doing?"

The door opened and a girl entered the room.

"Hmmm, Nya?"

Neko woke up with sleepy eyes, she wiped the drool from her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at the other person's face.

Immediately, Neko's face suddenly lit up.

"Haru-chan!"

She is Harumi Nakayama, a classmate of Neko, who became a great friend of her.

She is quite tall and has a slender body. Her eyes are sharp and her hair is dyed a color close to gold, so at first glance it may seem awkward and scary, but in reality she was a naive and kind girl who loved reading and camping in solitary.

"Hmm."

Nakayama pushed the paper box in her hand towards Neko.

"Here. Cake. Let's eat it together later."

"Wow, thanks. I love Haru-chan."

When Neko came over and hugged her, Nakayama seemed to push her away, but her cheeks were a little red. After,

"There is no time, I will do it immediately."

She put the cake in the refrigerator as if it were her own room, made instant coffee, and spread out the study tools on the chabudai.

"Is it okay to start with Japanese history?"

She confirms that. Neko nodded with a smile.

Then the two of them silently dove into their textbooks. Like Neko, Nakayama doesn't like to study at all, so she agreed to hold a study session to help each other not skip study.

Every time Neko was about to fall asleep, Nakayama would stab her with her finger and wake her up, and every time Nakayama was about to lose focus, Neko would encourage her to do her best.

And so about two hours passed.

Once she had a break, Nakayama stopped in the kitchen and made fried rice and egg drop soup. She prepared food for two people and they took a break.

Meanwhile, Nakayama asked:

"No teachers today?"

"Yes, they both went out."

Nakayama nodded when Neko answered like this.

"These two seem to be busy as usual."

Nakayama is a close friend of Shiro and Kuro. She is not just a person from the school. For Nakayama, Shiro, Kuro and Neko are benefactors.

She is a student at Ashinaka High School and at the same time one of the Strains who awakened the power of a different ability in the incident caused by the Green clan and continued to have that power even after that.

Nakayama's unique ability is that her body expels toxic gases when emotions run high.

Nakayama was depressed enough to think about committing suicide since she once endangered the people around her with that power. Shiro, Kuro and Neko took care of it, taught her how to control her different abilities and learned how to deal with society.

And at that time, Neko told Nakayama everything without hiding her half-life.

As a result, Nakayama, who was desperate and confused for "having such extraordinary power", was able to gain great courage.

Neko, who has lived a much more terrible life than her, is making bright and positive efforts and trying to enjoy her school life.

She thought that she couldn't lose, so she accepted Strain's power and decided to live.

Since then, the two have become close friends.

After the break, they started studying again. After another break, they ate the cake Nakayama brought and went back to looking at the textbooks and notebooks, and was completely dark.

Nakayama, then,

"I will be back soon."

Saying that, she stood up. She was not a dorm student, but a commuting student with a house near Shizume. Neko walked out the front door.

Nakayama finished putting on her shoes, looked back slowly,

"Neko is…"

With flushed cheeks, she said half-shyly.

"I think you're really amazing."

That's what she said.

In just one year of the harsh environment of little education, she was keeping up with the studies of high school students.

Nakayama praised her efforts in a forceful tone. but Neko...

"Nya?"

She didn't understand and just tilted her neck. Nakayama smiled bitterly.

"Well, no. Anyway, we'll do our best to help each other pass."

After saying that, she went home.

Neko no longer studied after Nakayama returned home. Shiro pointed out that learning for more than a certain amount of time would be inefficient, so she completely put away her study tools and turned around on the couch.

She had finished her quota for the day, and she was tired. She would take a nap anyway.

As she was about to fall asleep, the rang doorbell with a ping pong tone. Neko hurriedly got up and headed for the front door. It was neither Shiro nor Kuro.

They should have used the key to enter normally.

Takkyubin?

(Note: It is a very common courier service in Japan that consists of sending packages from one place to another in the country.)

No.

(Haru-chan? Did you forget something?)

Neko opened the door without suspecting anything.

The one who was there was...

"Oh? Miyabi-chan? Good evening. Is Kuro-chan home?"

A tall and brilliant man.

It was Yukari Mishakuji, Kuroh Yatogami's brother. Neko yelled, "Nya!".

It continues in the fifth episode: "Beauty Drifter".

#k #k project #k seven stories #k one year later #k stories #k-project #silver clan #yashiro isana #yatogami kuro #neko #mishakuji yukari

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hollenka99 · 2 years ago

Note

BTS for the regicide AU? -River

Ask Game

@egopocalypse

Regicide is a bit too big for me to comment on as a whole because as of the 16th, the total for the transcripts of au related dms I’ve been maintaining stands at 738,123 words over 1796 pages. However, I thought I'd focus on the behind the scenes of I Beg of Thee Have Mercy On Me (I Was Just a Boy, You See) since that's a good way to look at the world of Regicide through a single fic.

For any followers who might not know, Regicide is a royalty au that Anon and I created back in January and have brainrotted about on daily basis ever since. There are 15 paths, grouped into the three categories of Fratricide, Patricide and L’Manburg (aka war). So when I say stuff like F1 or P3, I mean the first fratricide and third patricide paths etc.

It goes without saying but this will contain spoilers for the fic. And because this is F1, there is a section about suicidal ideation and self harm but I’ve put a warning right before I talk about it and it’s only one paragraph.

It's mentioned at the start that Wilbur is the 7th son and 13th child. There will be 26 kids in total, 15 of them being boys. The reason for this is because, when I tried to create half brothers, I was a dumbass who asked Anon to pick a number between 1 and 20. If I was smart, I would have said 10 or at least made 'up to 20' for siblings, not just brothers. Either way, she said 15 thanks to having no context regarding her decision and then when I was filling up the list with sisters, 11 girls popped up unintentionally. Oh and also, Wilbur was originally Sextus (6th son) with Septimus born a week after him. However we decided we didn't want Wilbur to have the awkward name so the other brother's birthday became September 6th, making him Sextus instead. This did open the door for me to decide I wanted Wilbur to get close to Sextus since he knows he could have been teased instead if their birthdays were switched. Which then developed into them becoming close just because of proximity in age in general. He is my favourite of the half brothers and I am holding him gently. He and Wilbur are so close that Fundy’s middle name is Christopher after Sextus in most paths (it’s Wilbur in those where he’s dead before he can meet his son).

Anon and I tend to discuss non-canon versions of paths nearly as often as we do canon events. Kidbur's near death experience is no exception. A lot of talk is about a sweet 4 year old ghost who gets really upset because most of his family is ignoring him (aka literally can't see him). Also wholesome stuff like his grandfather looking after him once Wilbur moves on, then him meeting 17yo Tommy after Techno makes all their brothers join Wilbur. But in canon, we have it that he got sick while attending celebrations for the 1500th anniversary of the capital’s founding. As much as Phil is indifferent about his younger sons, he does rush back from attending celebrations elsewhere to provide moral support and keep an eye on their kids so Kristin can focus on tending to Wilbur. Once they’re in the clear, Phil takes Techno to see a play about Wilbur I, as a way of teaching him about the fratricide tradition.

I’m not sure why we decided to make 10 the age princes learn about fratricide. I honestly think it was just a nice round number, old enough for them to begin understanding the reality of their situation but young enough to not leave them oblivious for too long. Technoblade was told by Phil when he was 9 thanks to favouritism and of course, Techno himself revealed the truth to Wilbur when he was 7, right after Tommy’s birth. But Wilbur learning about the tradition then watching two brothers with whom he was close to die right in front of him marks the sort of era where his bitterness grows about being a Antarctic prince, a son of Phillip V at that. We never actually said in dms that the twins’ deaths happened the same day as Wilbur going into the crypts. Until June (when I finished the fic) those were just two events that happened when Wilbur was 10. But while writing, I felt they’d work really well side by side and in close succession. So when I showed Anon the finished draft, they wanted my head for making it worse by having it be the same day.

Also, speaking of Billy and Ben, I have to admit their names came from us memeing. We were discussing the idea of fathers naming eldest sons and mothers naming the younger boys, with the reverse being true for daughters. Given that Phil distances himself from his sons, I made a joke that he’d pick a dumb name for his 3rd and 4th sons, like naming them after Bill and Ben the Flowerpot Men (British children’s characters for toddlers). Except it stuck and they’ve been Billy and Ben since February. Most side characters aren’t named but Sextus was named Christopher after Phil’s father, Tommy’s namesake is an uncle and Technoblade shares his name with a legendary warrior figure.

I can't remember when we created Death and War but neopolitan trio come from blessed bloodlines on both sides. Thomas I (founder of the dynasty and the empire) attracted War's favour, causing him and his descendants to have premonitions while, as mentioned above, Death blessed an ancestor of Kristin's and as a result, her family can interact with ghosts. The reason Wilbur's gift from Death is unusually strong is because he's been in her favour since birth. The same for Techno with War (far more in tune with his premonitions) as well as Tommy with both gods (stronger premonitions and ability to see the dead but not as strong as the other two’s specialty). None of the brothers are aware of this though, they just assume it's a side effect of the dual divine heritage, so I haven't been able to mention it in fics so far.

We knew we wanted to include Sally and Fundy in the au and having her be L’Manburgian helped bring L’Manburg itself into the picture. We both love their wedding because they’re both a pair of pissed off teenagers whose parents have gone about this the completely wrong way. It’s typical for couples to spend at least a year getting to know each other before thinking about marriage since Antarctic people value unions that have good interpersonal foundations. This trial year is especially important for arranged couples since they’re not meeting out of chance. However, Kristin wants to maximise the length of time Wilbur’s happily married to a girl she feels he’d get along well with and as much as the Salmons want Sally to be happy too, they’re also aiming to put her in a powerful position. By definition, their marriage is actually forced instead of arranged because Salbur don’t meet until they’re at the altar and neither really consented to this, more just went along with it because they felt they had no real say in it. So those several months where they don’t want to interact with their spouse could have been avoided if their trial year was in the lead up to the wedding, not the first year of marriage.

No official comment on this excerpt except for the fact it's sweet. But I do want to say Anon is the one who comes up with the majority of worldbuilding ideas that we then build upon, including linguistic quirks. They’re even in the middle of creating a conlang for Antarctic which is really cool. A lot of this linguistic stuff tends to go over my head a bit when they explain it so sometimes I worry my interest doesn't show properly when I struggle to convey how much I'm nodding my head as I listen to them talk about the ongoing process. But yeah, I am that Will Smith meme with his arms out like look at my friend create a language from scratch. She also knows a bunch of Ottoman and Roman history thanks to being a history major so that contributes a lot of inspiration towards the au. I mean the whole thing started after she told me about how the Ottomans practiced fratricide for a while and I went here's a fucked up Wilbur after coming back from walking my dog.

I used Technoblade's death and the build up to it to show that as much as Wilbur is acting on his paranoia, as much as he has painted Techno as a heartless villain, he still loves his brother. This is his turning point, in fact this is the turning point of the entire path. This murder isn't what sets F1 apart from all the other paths, him going on to kill Tommy too is what makes F1 unique, but this is where things truly begin breaking apart for him. It was important to us to portray Wilbur as someone who had lost his way, someone who did things he never wanted to believe he was capable of but still remained himself at his core. At the very beginning, Wilbur was meant to kill both his brothers because he was prideful and felt he was the only one truly suitable for the role. But then everyone got fleshed out before too long. Now he is as he's presented here: somebody who grew up in an impossible situation which has left him protective of those stuck in it with him, scared of the future and desperate for any semblance of control over it all.

Phil is an interesting character in Regicide. We don’t want anyone to be black and white, all of them have layers and complexities. Even in F4 when we were planning to make Dream the main antagonist before the recent controversy, his corruption arc began with him trying to avenge Techno to feel like there was some justice to be had which then descended into him doing anything to remain in power, no matter how wrong. With Phil though, at least in the fratricide paths, he’s not that bad. He isn’t the best dad when it comes to his sons but that’s because he’s got it in his head that dying will be easier for him if he doesn’t spend his final hours dreading what his children are about to go through, the way he saw his own father dread his sons’ fates. With his daughters and Techno, he does his best to be there for them. When Wilbur or Tommy are set to be the next emperor because they’re the eldest/only living son left, Phil tries to reach out and get to know them. Patricide is a mixed bag since P1-3 are essentially ‘Fratricide but Phil is killed earlier′ so he’s more or less the same. Then in P4-5, those are war-centric paths so he’s the same version as the Ls.

With the L’Manburgian war paths, Phil isn’t so redeemable. He’s still the same guy but at his worst. I mean in P4 he orders his best archer to shoot Wilbur with arrows tainted with wither poison and in a few paths like L2, he literally has his sons imprisoned, executed then denied the ability to move on. And yet, for Phil, he just sees a wayward son deciding to undo the 150 years’ worth of effort it took their ancestors to finally conquer L’Manburg in the first place, all because Wilbur grew attached to the place. As for ordering the death of a 14 year old? Well, sending a message obviously. Same with making them die to an axe like a commoner instead of being hanged like a noble. Nobody is above the law as far as he has something to say about it. If Wilbur wants to act like he’s any other L’Manburgian then fine, he can die like them.

[Suicidal ideation and self harm warning for this next section]

This is the start of F1bur's destructive habits. He‘s going to get worse over the years as his mental health drags his physical health down with it. All of it thanks to paranoia and a need to survive long enough to ensure Fundy never has to be hurt like he has. At times, he will quite literally only stay alive because he owes it to his brothers to finish the book or Fundy’s still young enough that he can convince himself that his son needs him. There’s a point in his 40s where the book is ready for publication and he contemplates brewing a spiked tea so he can finally stop being shunned by everyone he loves, as well as not have to deal with Tommy’s anger anymore. Fundy’s a grown man by now, he doesn’t need his dad holding him back. There’s a sentiment that keeps cropping up in this au and makes both of us put our heads in our hands (/pos) which is ‘If you love someone, you’d let them go’. This applies here too. The only good thing about that scene (other than Wilbur obviously never going through with poisoning his drink in the first place) is that Tommy’s ghost finally realises how much hurt he’s actually caused his brother, leading to him being able to move on soon after. Fundy also plans to get engaged around this time so Wilbur tells himself he’ll stick around until the wedding. Then to meet his first grandchild. And the next grandson too. Until it’s a decade later and he’s coming home from visiting Fundy in order to meet his new granddaughter. At which point 30 years’ worth of not looking after his health catches up to him. In terms of mental health, F1 and L5 (where he’s shut in a dark cell with only Tommy’s ghost for company after the war) are the hardest on Wilbur. But whereas F1bur died after a few years of his life finally feeling like it might be worth living, L5bur’s life being saved following a suicide attempt causes him to start gradually healing from what Phil put him through until he’s living because he wants to.

Ah yes, Karl. I don’t remember what exactly the process was but I think he started off as nothing more than a great-grandson of Wilbur I who died during the first ever round of royal fratricide so that Wilbur could relate to him. Karl then also served as inspiration for Wilbur since we knew we wanted him to write a collective biography about each of his brothers, causing Karl to leave behind unfinished notes related to a similar project. I don’t know when we came up with the idea for reincarnation to be a thing in this au but it was probably February, in the context of F1 crimeboys being reborn as two boys named Seb (Wilbur) and Isaac (Tommy) so in their new lives they could start their relationship over. Suggesting Karl might be Wilbur’s past life wasn’t too much of a stretch from there. In the afterlife, there’s a mist filled section where if you walk in, you will start to lose your memories so that by the time you eventually make your way to the other side, your mind’s blank and ready to be sent to your next life. Kind of like a gaseous Lethe to be honest. The concept of the mist is definitely all Anon’s so shout out to her for that. In my mind, Karl waited for Sapnap to show up then after they’d been reunited for a while, they went in together, hand in hand. We’ve never really discussed what happened to Sapnap but Karl obviously became Wilbur. Wilbur remembers nothing of Karl’s life, even if certain things trigger a sense of deja vu seemingly randomly. With Seb and Isaac though, they begin to remember being crimeboys after meeting but again, Seb has absolutely no recollection of once being Karl. Either way, I liked dropping subtle hints in this scene that Karl was more to Wilbur than he realised. That last line about the words bouncing back to Wilbur at Karl’s grave is my favourite.

The coronation proceedings are heavily based on Elizabeth II's coronation since there's footage of the whole ceremony online. This bit especially is essentially just the same things she was asked to swear in an oath but tweaked a little to fit Wilbur and the Antarctic Empire. We knew that we wanted part of the coronation to involve the new emperor swearing to uphold the fratricide tradition. That bit is completely ad-libbed by me while the snippet of legalese that Wilbur read when he was 13 was based on the Succession to the Crown Act 2013 (I tried to access the 1707 version but legislation.gov.uk always makes stuff hard to read if they don’t have the original version which is the only downside to the website that really helped me through the legal modules of my degree). Anon and I were also talking about how difficult it must be for emperors who are fathers at the time of their coronation since those sons will have to watch their dad promise to ensure their deaths after his own. I’m sure Phil’s father had the same reluctance when he swore that oath since he had 7 sons, the youngest of which was Phil himself at 2 years old. It’s a shame the two never got to meet because I think Wilbur and his grandfather could have gotten on quite well since they were quite similar in some ways.

Either way, I hope this look into Regicide was interesting. There’s some stuff I wasn’t able to include since it was too niche or path-specific but this covers a fair amount of ground in terms of Regicide in general.

#ask game #regicide au #holly's writing thoughts #long post

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years ago

Text

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 17 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer is concerned about Reader’s growing impulsiveness, but Reader is the one who gets a call from JJ asking if she can come get her boyfriend. Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader   Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)   Content Warning: Discussions of drugs, death/dying, suicide, overdose; Alcohol, addiction, oral (male receiving), handjob, fingering, Daddy Kink, fights, PTSD, hospital talk, drunk smut w/ blanket consent Word Count: 12.5k

MASTERLIST

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When I opened the front door, I realized that I had returned to an empty home. I wasn’t sure which was weirder; the realization that the house was empty, or the fact that I was referring to her apartment as my home. It certainly had started to feel that way.

It never stopped being a shock that I would find a home in someone so quickly and with such little self-awareness. I'd certainly never suspected that the house we’d be in would also be shared with several other people, all of whom were significantly younger than me and shared almost no similarities with me beyond our love for (y/n).

And even if it wasn’t the weirder of the two realizations, the fact that she wasn’t there was definitely the more troubling one. I tried to gather at least a little evidence before I called her; I wasn’t exactly excited about being blindsided again. Judging by the red solo cups that were scattered in the kitchen, I had an idea of how her friends had spent the night. The fact that no one was here led me to another conclusion that I desperately hoped was inaccurate.

Her phone rang four times before she picked up, which was strange in itself. When she did pick up, she sounded like I expected her to. Tired. Groggy.

“Hello?”

“Hey little girl, where are you?” I hoped she couldn’t hear the fumbling of my keys in my pocket, or any other sign of just how anxious I’d gotten in the last three minutes. “Oh. I’m sorry, Spencer, I forgot I was supposed to see you today.” She mumbled, sounding genuinely apologetic if not a little confused.

“You… forgot?” I repeated, quickly making my way over to the calendar hung on a bulletin board outside the kitchen, noting the nothingness over both the current and following week.

“Yeah, I guess I got carried away with school.”

She was lying. I couldn’t be for sure about what, but it was obvious. If she was really having that much trouble with classes, she would have told me. We’d gotten past the whole insecurity over me thinking she was stupid thing a long time ago, and she knew I would always let her learn it on her own if she didn’t want my help.

“... What are you not telling me?” I tried to make the words playful, although my hand was now nervously patting the side of my hip at an alarming rate.

“Nothing! I just got distracted. I’m... a little busy today so we should just meet up again next weekend.”

“A week?” I knew she was probably getting tired of me parroting her words, but that just seemed like a ludicrous amount of time. Usually, we went barely a day or two without seeing each other when I was in the city, cherishing the time together when I wasn't called away to attend to crimes halfway across the country.

“What’s going on?” My voice was quickly falling into that register that warned her I was about to start profiling her, whether I wanted to or not. And unfortunately, she chose the worst possible reaction to that warning, further tipping me off to the fact that something wasn't quite right.

“Spencer, stop being weird.”

But I wasn’t. I knew that I could be weird; it’s kind of my thing. If you looked up weird in the dictionary, you wouldn’t find my name, but you’d definitely find a description that perfectly characterized my personality.

“You’re the one being weird. Turn on your camera.”

“I can’t. It’s dark in here.” She shot back her answer so quickly, I knew that she had already anticipated the request.

“Then move.” I ordered more than suggested. She understandably didn’t take kindly to my reaction, but I know she also knew why I was doing it. The excuses she was giving weren’t even well thought out.

“What is this? An interrogation?” She scoffed, “Do you think I’m cheating on you with barely dissolved stitches in my intestines?”

I took a deep breath, sitting down at the kitchen table still sticky with leftover sugary liquor and turned the phone onto speaker. “Turn it on.” This time, my voice broke with the order. As much as that didn’t make it sound authoritative, it did make her feel guilty.

As the screen lit up, it all made sense in the worst possible way. She was forcing a fake smile, her other hand resting against her face in a failed attempt to draw attention away from the the mottled skin of her left eye.

“I’m not cheating on you. Happy?” The words were sharp on her tongue, an anger in her features paired well with the understanding that I wasn’t wrong to be worried. I honestly think that was what bothered her the most – that she wanted it to be nothing, for me to be overreacting, but knew that it was a little more serious that she let on.

“I’m definitely not happy. What happened?” I was already at the door by the time the sentence ended... She shut off her camera just as quickly, hearing the commotion from my side. “Where are you? I’m coming right now.”

She sighed, and I could see it clearly despite the fact that she wasn’t on my screen anymore. “I don’t want you to come here. Spencer, I’m fine.”

I might have believed her. I might have honestly given her the benefit of the doubt – let her lie to me a little, and just accept that a black eye wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. Eventually, she would tell me how she got it, so I wouldn’t need to worry about it.

But it became very obvious very quickly that it was not just a black eye.

“Ms. (Y/l/n)?” A third voice announced in the background, accompanied by the distinct sound of an alarm sounding in the distance.

“... Are you in a hospital?!”

“For fucks sake. I hate dating a profiler.” She grumbled, implicitly admitting that my conclusion was right. She wouldn’t let me have another word, speedily slurring her goodbye. “I have to go, Spencer. I’ll call you later. Love you!”

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Anyone who has spent a long time in inpatient knows that nosy nurses are both the best and worst kind of people to be assigned to your stay. They were the best because they always had the best gossip and would spend their precious little free time sharing stories about their lives that were always more entertaining than whatever poorly budgeted gameshow was on the old, staticky television.

They were the worst because one wrong move meant that you were the subject of gossip. And boy, were they good at getting it out of you.

“Trouble in paradise?” She sweetly hummed as she pushed my bed down the hall.

I wanted to tell her that there was trouble, and that it was through no fault of my own. If the other people in the hospital didn’t have the audacity to be sick at the same time that I needed a CT scan, then I wouldn’t have even still been here. I could have been back at home, where… well, I guess Spencer would have figured it out either way.

“Yeah, I guess.” I sadly admitted, playing with the string of my gown. “He’s just a worrywart.”

The woman had that glimmer in her eye, the kind that came from years of seeing the same stories over and over again. Although, I had a hard time believing she’d ever been in this exact scenario, I guess they were all kind of the same after a while, semantics aside.

“Well, that makes sense considering your current state.” It was more of a reprimand than anything else, and I audibly groaned to try and get her to stop there. She didn’t, though, having spent enough time with me to know I needed to hear it. “You were very lucky, you know. If things had been even just a little bit different…”

Couldn’t you say that about everything? If things had been even just a little bit different, I never would have met Spencer in the first place. We never would have fallen in love or fought or done any of it at all.

I didn’t like thinking about that. I didn’t like even considering a life without Spencer. No matter how much pain I’d been through, or what traumatic memories were dug up, they were worth it.

That’s what she wanted me to realize, and she had succeeded. Suddenly, as we turned into the room, I was overcome with guilt at the way I’d ended my conversation with him.

The nurse knew it, too, because as she transferred me onto the scanner, she smiled. “I’m just saying, sweetheart. If he woke up next to your hospital bed last time, I understand why he’d be scared.”

Chewing on my lips, I thought about the last time I was in a hospital. I thought about how Spencer had curled his giant lanky body onto the bed and barely slept for 2 weeks. I could see the way his eyes got more sunken by the day, but never stopped shining with relief. I could hear him chewing on ice because he didn’t want to leave to grab food until after I’d woken up, and the cold would distract him from just how hungry he was.

“He must love you an awful lot to be that worried.”

I hated when they did that; when they read my mind and said exactly what I was thinking.

“Yeah, I know.” I tried to smile. It was hard with the stabbing pain in my stomach and the aching in the entire left side of my face, but I managed. It was just one of those things where if I thought of Spencer, my body had to react. It was as natural as breathing.

Which, speaking of…

“Take a deep breath in.” The technician alerted me from the speaker.

The high pitched whines of the CT scanner weren’t as obnoxious as the MRI machine. I was silently grateful that they were still too scared to use the giant magnet. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be stuck in a confined space, listening to loud banging that sounded too much like gun shots for my comfort.

Even just the thought made me nauseous. I felt like a baby, to have such a strong reaction to something so stupid. I’d been in an MRI before. I was a in a hospital. Nothing bad was going to happen to me, and I knew that.

But even now, in a machine that made virtually no noise and barely covered half my body, I wasn’t able to hold in a breath. Each time I tried, it felt like I was choking on Spencer’s lap again. The stinging in my stomach felt so much stronger, even though I knew it was healed.

The world felt like it was closing in on me, and every second that passed felt like days. I couldn’t even trust myself to guess how long it took for them to get images that should have taken no longer than 5 minutes.

I felt like such a burden. Like I was in their way. Like I was doing it wrong. Like I was a little kid, thinking that she knew what she was doing and could do it on her own.

I wanted Spencer.

That was the only thing I could think, and although it should have been comforting, it just left me feeling empty. The thought of him wasn’t enough to stop the tears streaming down my cheeks. The hands of the nurses trying to calm me down didn’t help, either. They felt wrong. They felt cold.

I just wanted Spencer. I wanted him to be there to hold my hand and distract me from my own thoughts. I wanted him to replace them with other things, like he'd promised me. I wanted to make new memories far away from here.

But I couldn’t. I was an idiot and I’d gotten myself back in the hospital, and he wasn’t here because I told him I didn’t want him to be. Why had I told him that? There was no reason that made any sense.

Once we finally did get out of the damn radiology department, I could still only barely function. The ride back to my room was much quieter, and the nurse didn’t meddle anymore. Gossip was only fun when it didn’t hurt like this.

Again, I couldn’t trust myself to guess how long I’d been in the CT scanner, but as we crossed back into my room, an overwhelming sensation of relief washed over me when I saw his satchel in the seat beside my bed. I hated the knowledge that I’d wasted 45 minutes of the technician’s time, but I was just so fucking happy that he had actually come.

Being alone in my room wasn’t a big deal anymore, because I knew it was only temporary. So as soon as I could, I sat up and waited patiently for my favorite mop of curly brown hair to peek around the corner.

He didn’t disappoint. He rarely did.

“Hey little girl.”

All the tension melted from my muscles, my head finally resting against the pillow with a dopey smile on my face. “Spencer.” I sighed, holding my hand out to him to usher him closer.

He gladly took the invitation, taking wide steps so he could be with me sooner.

“You shouldn’t be here.” I grumbled, flicking him on the arm while I locked our hands together. “But I’m glad you are.”

It was obvious from the way he let out a deep breath that he was also relieved to see that I wasn’t angry at him for coming. However, that’s also where his relief stopped. Because he’d seen me an hour prior and knew that I hadn't been crying then. But now, on top of the black eye, he saw the red rimming my sclera.

Taking my hand into both of his, he pressed a hard kiss against the back of it. Without looking up, he muttered into the skin a sad plea.

“Talk to me.”

“About what?” I asked, pulling back on my hand so he would stop with the shameless display of romance in such an awful place.

“Whatever’s going on.” He paused, but was clearly unhappy with the open ended question, and just as quickly specified, “What happened last night?

Unfortunately, I still wasn’t in the giving mood, even when it was information, and even if the person begging me for it was the boyfriend that I’d just cried for in the CT Scanner. If anything, that almost made it worse.

I hated feeling like this. Vulnerable.

“Nothing.”

Spencer was getting fed up, but it was like I couldn’t stop myself from fighting with him. I didn’t want to. I wanted to tell him that I needed him to take care of me and ask him to hold me while I cried on his shoulder about nothing at all, but I couldn’t. He would do it in a heartbeat, but I couldn’t ask him to. I couldn’t ask him for anything.

I couldn’t need anything without feeling too horribly guilty.

“Please don’t lie to me.” He was begging again, looking up at me with those impossibly warm amber eyes. He smiled when he saw the way my lips curled at the sight of him, unable to be angry for too long.

“Am I not allowed to have any stories for myself?” I joked, reaching forward to poke his face. Instead of moving away to avoid my hand, he leaned into the touch.

“You can. I just...”

“I know. You’re worried.” I responded with an exasperated sigh, rolling my head back. I could still feel him watching me, though, with a precarious smile, happy to see my spirits relatively high while also being deeply unhappy about the circumstances.

Wanting to see that full, confident smile again, I realized I didn’t have much of a choice. I’m sure that whatever he’d come up with in his head was much more sinister than what had actually happened.

“Fine. Stop looking at me like that.” I mumbled, gesturing to the childlike pout and laughing when he sucked his lips into his mouth in an attempt to follow my direction. I was glad he was still in a joking mood, because I had a feeling it would disappear as soon as I started talking.

I took a deep breath, looking up and away before I began my explanation of the stupidest night.

“I went out for drinks with my friends–”

“Drinks?!”

It hadn’t even been five seconds and he’d already cut me off. I couldn’t blame him, but it was so freaking annoying. This was exactly why I hadn't told him. Well, that and the fact he could get in serious trouble.

“I didn’t have any! Geez. Chill out.” I yelled back, chuckling a little bit at the conflicting looks of terror and relief. Because while he obviously believed that I didn’t drink any myself, it gave ugly context to the nightmarish guesses his mind had concocted.

“And everything was fine. We were on our way home. But then some asshole started messing with my friend. And she was way too drunk and started crying.” I was groaning internally the whole time, thinking about all the different ways this whole situation could have been avoided. Honestly, I don’t know why she had decided to try and square up with a cat caller when she knew damn well that she would start crying the second he raised his voice.

Which, of course, he had.

“So, I told the guy to fuck off. And he did not like it.”

There was a powerful rage boiling under the surface of Spencer’s skin, which was only betrayed by his clenched jaw and the sheets scrunched under his hand. “Did they arrest him?” He said, trying to calm the trembling in his voice. He wasn’t angry at me for being a victim, even if he was probably a little annoyed that I went out without telling him.

Not like he was even in the state, anyway.

“I didn’t press charges.”

He took a deep breath, clearly about to tell me that I was stupid for not holding him accountable. That I could’ve gotten hurt and he would’ve gotten away with it. That I could’ve died if he’d hurt me the wrong way.

I didn’t want to hear it.

“Stop. I didn’t want to go to court, and I’m fine. I didn’t even need invasive surgery again.”

Spencer was still angry but trying to settle himself down before he spoke. He could hardly even look at me, his hand leaving the bed to run through his hair and shake his keys in his pockets.

I wanted to tell him that the tension of silence was worse than if he’d just raised his voice at me, but I couldn’t even gather the energy to do that. My body and mind seemed resigned to their current state; they’d just given up.

“(Y/n)...” He started, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at the use of my name. They didn’t retreat, especially not when he dragged a chair over to my bedside, sitting down and placing a gentle hand over mine again.

“Are you okay?”

It was so sincere. So pure, so unforgivably kind. My hand that had felt paralyzed seconds earlier twitched under his. “I just told you.” I shrugged, fighting the urge to pull my arm away again. I wanted him here. I wanted him to touch me.

So why did it hurt? Why did everything hurt?

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” His voice broke, and I saw the way he was holding back tears with his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. He was biting back so many things he didn’t want me to know.

But again, I was too tired to fight it. So instead, I said nothing.

“It doesn’t take a profiler to see you’re hurting.” He continued, urging me to give him anything to work with. “How can I make it better?”

He just wanted to help. Why couldn’t I let him help?

“I’m fine. Nothing even happened to me.” My throat tried to reject the words, my brain screaming at me that they were fundamentally untrue. But my heart hurt, pounding louder in my chest to tell me that the logic was wrong. Because I was a big girl, and I shouldn’t be scared by things that already happened.

I’m safe, right? I don’t need to be scared, right?

Spencer could see the panic on my face because I couldn’t even have hid it if I'd wanted to. And my brain was telling me to not to. It told me that I needed to talk to him, to let him listen.

“That’s not true. You’ve been through a lot.” He bargained, trying to locate that little voice in my head with his offerings. He wanted to pull that small part of me out and force it to talk so that we might finally be able to start to move on.

“You go through worse every day.”

‘It’s common for patients suffering from PTSD to minimize their suffering or compare it to others. It’s a completely normal response, but I want you to try to resist belittling your own feelings. They’re yours, and no one else’s. Okay, sweetheart?’

The voice was so clear in my head, my body jerked in response. I looked around the room, looking for any sign of the man who’d told me them first. But he wasn’t here; he hadn’t been here for some time.

“Do you know how many profilers I’ve seen leave in my time at the bureau?” Spencer distracted me from the thought. He probably figured my flashbacks were more sinister than what they actually were. As upsetting as they had once been, hearing my dad’s voice in my head was usually oddly soothing.

“No.” I answered blankly, trying to pay all attention to the man who was still here.

“Four. And I’ve considered it myself.” There was a soft chuckle to hide the guilt in the admission.

I didn’t know why he felt bad for it; his job was so ridiculously difficult. On top of constantly having to rearrange his life on account of the various inextinguishable evils in the world, he had to face those evils every day and try to figure out their inner workings in order to thwart them. The only time I'd ever done that, I'd killed all three of them. Not the best track record.

“The first one, she... she reminds me a lot of you.” The soft twinkling in his eyes, much like emotional music in the movies, alerted me that a backstory was coming. Based on the extent of just how nostalgic he was coming, I guessed that whatever he was about to say was deeply important to him.

However, I was fragile enough as it was, and I didn’t need to add jealousy to my current emotional repertoire. “Is this another JJ origin story? Cause I don’t think I can handle it.”

He laughed, shaking his head at the frustrated pout that formed on my face. “No,” He said quietly, taking a pregnant pause to formulate the story. “Her name was Elle.”

The story he told was woven well, although I expected no less. He told it passionately and with absolute sincerity. He told me about the woman who was one of the first people he'd bonded with on the team. The playful relationship he described was painted so vividly in my imagination.

I wanted to meet her. But by the end of the story, it was obvious that it wasn’t an option. He didn’t say anything about it, but from the far off look I could guess that he hadn’t seen her since that last day.

“She was like a sister to me, and to see her fall apart and not be able to do anything to help her... it was one of the worst feelings in the world.”

And I understood then, why he was worried about me the way he was. He was projecting his previous experience on me, but things were different with me. At least, that’s what I told myself. Realistically I should have been reminding myself that she'd had the training and resources to overcome her obstacles, whereas I was basically still a stupid kid. The prospect of facing the reality was too difficult though; I just shrugged it off.

“Well, I already killed the people who did this to me.” I chuckled.

Spencer did not appreciate my humor. There was an even stronger concern that flashed over his features, worried by my flippancy over the death of three human beings.

Fuck, I should feel worse about it than I do, shouldn’t I? But if I thought about it, then it hurt so badly. If I had to pick one, I would pick apathy every time. I would choose the emptiness before the ocean of remorse.

“I’m not worried about them.”

I had drifted away from him again, and the sentence forced me to look at him.

‘I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about you.’

I’d said that before. Those were my words.

I pulled my hand back from Spencer, rubbing my forehead with both hands before wincing at the sharp pain around my eye socket. It took me a minute to focus on the sentence and dive deeper into its implications. But once I remembered why it instilled such a visceral reaction, I nearly gagged on the words.

“Wait, you think I’m going to kill myself?”

“I didn’t say that.” He quickly responded in the most defensive manner possible. If that was his attempt to calm me down, it did not work. It only pissed me off even more.

Because there was only one reason why he would think I was going to kill myself. I hadn’t given him any reason to believe that was a risk. Yeah, sure, I was being reckless and impulsive, but I was a teenager!

“Why would you think that?” I demanded an answer, and he was immediately hesitant to provide one. It was all the evidence I needed to reach my conclusion. “Don’t lie to me, Spencer Reid. You asked Hotch, didn’t you?”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair now that it was obvious, I wasn’t going to want him to touch me. “Yeah, I did.”

“You told me you wouldn’t, Spencer! You promised!” I ground the words out between my teeth, hoping he understood just how much I was holding back my volume.

He looked over at the screen monitoring my heart, noting the way the spikes appeared at an exponentially faster rate. “I know.” He whispered with an evident guilt.

“What did he tell you?” I hated the way my voice shrank with my shoulders, my body insisting that I assume to the smallest position I could. Because as much as I hated that Spencer had asked when he told me he wouldn’t, I was desperate for the information.

I’d always wanted to see the files, to hear the story as they knew it. I wanted to know what happened, and this was probably the closest I’d ever come to that, unless that whole Ouija board thing is real.

“Probably the same stuff that you already know.” He knew he was disappointing me. He shouldn’t have felt as bad about that as he did, but I’d take the implicit apology for what it was.

“Tell me anyway.”

Spencer should have been delighted to have the opportunity to talk at me for such a long time, but I also understood why he wasn’t. They weren’t the best topics of conversation, your ex-best friend and your girlfriend’s dead father. But he was a trooper and a skilled conversationalist, despite people not being able to understand that.

“He told me that there were several missions your father was a part of that ended controversially. That… he reported several violations that were never followed through on.”

The words so easily unlocked memories I had tightly and resolutely locked away, it was unsettling. I could hear my parents arguing about the philosophy of blame and responsibility. My dad always arguing that he couldn’t stand aside and let innocent people get hurt. My mom reminding him that he couldn’t save everyone.

‘We also get to see a lot of good.’ Spencer had said on our first not-a-date.

‘Yeah, but which do you see more of?’ I’d asked, and he’d avoided the question. I remembered seeing the question dance across his vision before he shut it out. He'd wondered why I was so confident in my conclusions.

“And the last mission…”

He didn’t have to wonder anymore.

“I saw the report.”

My breath was knocked from my lungs by an invisible fist to my damaged gut. I swallowed, trying to regulate my heart that was at risk of setting off the damn machine next to me. “What did it say?” I whispered, clutching onto the sheets and my gown, hoping it would be enough to keep me grounded.

“Killed in action.”

“That’s fucking bullshit.” I barked, my brows furrowing regardless of just how badly it hurt to contort my face so badly. “He didn’t– H-He wasn’t–“

“I know.” Spencer responded, a note of pity in his voice that made my face twitch in annoyance.

I turned to him with the same snarl, years of repressed anger resurfacing and wreaking even more havoc on my already destroyed life. “Do you? Do you know?”

“I mean, I can’t ever know for sure but… You weren’t the only one who felt that he...” He couldn’t say the word suicide, and for once, I was grateful. “It seems like all of his team had the same concerns.”

He was trying so hard to calm me down, to placate my fears and rage. He was sympathizing the best he could, but the truth was he would never be able to understand just how fucked up it was. He hadn't been there when it was happening, so the only thing he could do was try to slap a band-aid on a well-settled scar and hope that my not being able to see it made it hurt less.

“I’m sorry.” He uttered the two words cautiously, his heartbreak clear in his eyes. He had nothing to apologize for, but there he was, doing it anyway.

“For what?”

“That you’ll never have your answer.”

I don’t know what I expected him to say, but his answer took me by surprise. Of all the explanations I’d heard after an unnecessary platitudinous apology, I’d never heard that. And even worse, I’d never heard it in such a broken way, sounding for all the world like he believed he'd failed tremendously.

“I’m sorry that... that I couldn’t find it for you.”

I couldn’t stand the sight, and my hand found his cheek like it did so often, returning home to find that it was just a bit more stubbly than I remembered it. “It’s not your job, Spencer. We’re not one of your cases.” I assured him, running my thumb over the rough skin and remembering that he’d only just gotten home from exactly that: a case.

He did so much for me every day, but in the past few months he’d had to do so much more. And as much as I tried not to, I took him for granted so often. It was never as obvious to me as it was in that moment, when a tear slid down his cheek at the tenderness of my touch. He always expected anger and pain. I didn’t want him to feel that way with me.

“But thank you for trying. I appreciate you.” I tried to throw my soul into the words as they formed on my tongue, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper. “I love you very much.”

“I love you, too.” He sighed into the small embrace, leaning his weight more heavily into my hand. Still holding back, he grimaced at the words he shared. “If I’m going to be honest, I looked something else up myself. Not on any FBI database just... old school research”

I wanted to act surprised, but it was the least shocking thing I’d heard in a while. So instead I just stared at him, with the closest I could come to boredom while still being interested in what he had to say.

“Yeah? What’d you find?” Finally settling into the inevitable resignation, I moved my hand up the side of his face to tangle in his hair. It was so soft despite not having been washed for a few days. I could tell he hadn’t slept much. I wondered why he'd bothered digging into my past in the precious little free time he had.

But then he said it, reminding me of the pain of the cemetery and the events that both preceded and followed it.

“Trent Loughton.”

My fingers stopped in their exploration of his curls for a second, but eventually continued. “I see.” I hummed, trying not to push the conversation any further than he wanted to take it. As emotional as the topic was for me, it must have been harder for him. After all, he was the one who shared the nasty habit with Trent.

“I-I saw how he died... and I think I can fill in the rest myself.”

“Mrs. Loughton did give a lot of clues.” I laughed, mostly to stop myself from crying. That woman didn’t deserve any more of my tears. It was because of her that I’d spent years trying to convince myself that Trent’s death wasn’t my fault. Deep down, a part of me still believed her.

But honestly, it wasn’t my opinion that really mattered to me. It was Spencer’s. If he thought I was a failure, or that it was my fault for what happened, I wasn’t sure we’d ever be able to move past it. I wasn’t sure that I would ever be able to move past it.

“The drugs he overdosed on... they weren’t yours.”

Relief washed over me, but my mind told me not to get too comfortable, yet. “No, they weren’t.” My body had such a strange reaction to the words being said without an argument. I didn’t need to convince Spencer; he already knew. He not only believed me – he had come to the conclusion himself.

“So why did you say they were?”

It was such an easy answer, I knew he had to know it already. His hesitance to come to conclusions on my behalf, while appreciated, wasn’t necessary in this situation. “Pretty little girl with no record and a batshit war hero dad stood a better chance in the criminal justice system. I didn’t ask my dad to protect me, but he did.”

Spencer clearly sympathized with my father more so than me in that moment, which made my heart flutter in a remarkably inappropriate manner. I just couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that those damn psychologists were right – We really do sometimes pick men that remind us of our fathers.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Spencer said under his breath, and I wondered which one he was even talking about. It honestly could have applied to my whole life. He would have meant it each time, too. Because to him I couldn’t do anything wrong. I tried to take solace in that, but it honestly caused another voice to creep into the back of my mind.

I’d never be as good as he saw me. I’d never be worthy of his love.

Shoving those anxieties away again, I nodded in solemn recognition of the years I spent working to come to that same conclusion. “I know. It just took me a while to figure it out.”

My hand finally fell away from his face, although he grabbed my wrist to stop it from going too far. There was another hesitancy in his body language. His face turned down and his leg bouncing so gently I almost missed it.

“Is he the one you were talking about? The one you loved?”

Ah, nothing like a subtle hint of jealousy to boost a girl’s ego. I chuckled at the sound, swaying a bit in place to let him suffer a millisecond longer. “No. Not exactly.”

But then I genuinely couldn’t figure out how to say it. How could I describe what we had shared, when I'd spent so long trying to forget it? Had I loved him? Probably. No, I'd definitely loved him, just not in the way Spencer was thinking. Not like I loved Spencer.

“It was like, he always liked me, and I always thought we’d end up together because that’s how it happens in the movies, right? I was supposed to fall in love with him.” I ranted, trying to move my hands that were currently wrapped up in Spencer’s. “But I didn’t, and then he was gone and...”

We both stopped, his eyes trailing after me with questions he didn’t voice yet. He wanted me to finish before he decided whether or not they were worth it. I wanted to explain to him that they weren’t. As important as Trent was to me, he was gone.

“It’s fine. I’m sure he would be glad I found someone who makes me happy.” I was confident in that, at least. Because as I stared into those big hazel eyes, forcing themselves to stay open just to listen to me talk about my life, I was glad, too. “Even if that someone snoops too much for his own good.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

There were many reasons, most of which I didn’t want to go into. But the way he was looking at me shattered my heart into a million pieces, and I knew that if I lied to him now, it would only make it harder to put those parts back together.

He just wanted to help. I knew I should let him help.

“I didn’t want to think about it.” I admitted for the first time out loud. “I didn’t want to consider all the similarities. I didn’t want you to think I was just looking for a man to replace the ones I’ve lost.”

I couldn’t tell when I started to cry, but it was even more exhausting and painful than normal. Which is why I didn’t hesitate to accept Spencer’s offer when he stood up, wrapping his arms around me just tightly enough that it wouldn’t hurt.

“I didn’t want to lose you, too.” I whined, the comforting scent of his cologne filling my lungs and reminding me of all the beautiful moments we’d shared so far. We had so many more to go.

“You won’t lose me. I’m here to stay.” He said, reading my mind like he always did.

“I know.” I started to laugh, but this time it wasn’t held back by secrets. “You’d think a girl could lose you by getting in a bar fight an hour away and going to an unnamed hospital but nooo...”

He laughed too, although his was much more reserved. Spoilsport.

Spencer’s arms tightened around me briefly, holding me closer to him before he backed away, his hands finding home on my cheeks. I anticipated a kiss, which was usually what happened when he held me like that. But he didn’t kiss me, instead giving me a gentle instruction.

“(Y/n), look at me.”

My eyes, bruised and dry, still opened at his command.

“No jokes. No lies.” He asked, clearly enunciating each word. “Should I be worried about you?”

All I could hear was the sound of my heart and the humming of the machines. I was brought back to the CT scanner, the way it felt to be choking on air. Flashes of other men I loved were racing through my mind. I couldn’t save them, I remembered, before my eyes landed back on Spencer.

My stomach twisted at the memory of a wooden box, a check, and suddenly all I smelled was the pine of the forest.

“(Y/n)?” He asked again, although I saw he’d already received half of the answer.

“No. I’m fine.”

The most terrifying part about it was that I believed what I said, but the look on Spencer’s face told me that I was lying. And I believed that, too.

—————————————————

The thing about coming back from a gunshot wound to the stomach is that it takes a ridiculously annoying amount of time. Like, yeah, the pain is something awful, but the wait for things to return to normal was even worse.

I didn’t even know how long it’d been, my brain blocking out anything that reminded me of that day. If I ever really needed to know, Spencer could tell me. I was basically only keeping track of the days by deadlines for school and the dwindling prescriptions I had left.

My follow-up appointment was next week, and it couldn’t come soon enough. Spencer told me he would come with me, but I hadn’t really heard from him in a couple of days. He didn’t even have time to tell me about the case, although I could tell it was one of the “bad” ones – not that there were really any “good” ones.

But still, it was almost 11pm and I was about to go to sleep, but I wanted to wait a little bit longer before I called it a night. I was just hoping that I’d be able to talk to him, even if it was just to say goodnight. I missed his voice like crazy.

So when my phone lit up, I didn’t even look at the caller ID. There weren’t many people who would call me this late on a Friday – my friends were all already out for the night.

“Hello?” I sang into the receiver, already excitedly spinning around in my chair.

But the voice that responded was decidedly not Spencer.

“Hey, (y/n), right? It’s JJ.”

Her voice rang like a record scratch through my head, and I halted in my chair. “Oh, hey JJ... Why are you calling me?” Suddenly, my enthusiasm morphed into an overwhelming anxiety and darkness that threatened to crush everything in its path. “I-Is everything alright?”

But then I heard it. The sound of terrible music, loud laughter, and the general bustle of a restaurant. It was followed by an even more nervous JJ, “Uhh, yeah. Everything is fine. I was calling because Spencer might have had a few too many drinks and—“

Above the chaotic noise that I just described, I heard Spencer Reid loud and clear. Well, maybe not the clear part. His inaudible slurring sounded vaguely like a rant I’d heard before. Then again, hadn't I heard them all at this point? ?

I hadn’t put it together yet, though, and once I did, I couldn’t help but laugh. “My boyfriend is drunk? Cute.”

I was already standing, gathering my things and tossing my jacket on to head out when I asked, “Do you want me to come get him?”

“Please.” I’d never heard a more relieved woman in my life. The very thought of him driving his best friends insane with his drunken lessons was enough to combat my exhaustion. The poor thing was probably humiliating himself one sip at a time.

But for every chuckle, I was really just hiding a deeper concern. Spencer wasn’t supposed to be drinking. Spencer wasn’t allowed to drink, and he knew that. Out of the two of us, he was the one who put himself at risk more often, and I had a goddamn bullet wound.

“Sure thing. Just send me the address.”

It dawned on me somewhere along the 20 minute drive that Spencer had not only finished his case, but also come home and gone out for a drink with his team. Normally that wouldn’t bother me, but the fact that he hadn’t told me about any of it...?

I tried not to think about it, knowing that talking to him about it tonight would be a waste of time, anyway. From the way he'd sounded over the phone, he wouldn’t be in any state to talk about the deep nuances of addiction and our relationship.

So I pushed it away, trying to enjoy the fact that I’d be able to see him again. Now that we’d cleared the air about my past, things felt strangely calm. I told myself it wasn’t just the eye of the storm because I wasn't sure I could handle much more excitement lately.

Showing up at one of the bars I used to frequent didn’t do much to convince me otherwise, either. The stench of cigarette smoke and alcohol hit me like a freight train as soon as I stepped out of my car. How did I do this every other night before?

As I approached the door, I didn’t even recognize the bouncer’s figure in the shade of the dim porch light. I recognized his voice, though, that’s for sure.

“Hey Jailbait, haven’t seen you around.”

Shit. Slower now, I hesitantly approached him with the most innocent and well-meaning look I could muster, knowing full well that another part of my life was going to be exposed tonight. At least this time, Spencer was the story and not the listener.

“Hey Tom...” I nervously laughed, drawing out the words while I came to a stop.

“Heard some pretty crazy shit went down to keep you off the scene. Must be bad if it keeps you away from me.”

It was weird to think that they talked about me. But I guess it was to be expected; we were all friends before Spencer Reid. And when someone in those friend groups goes missing suddenly, there’s usually reason to be worried. But in my situation, the worry wasn’t really necessary (aside from the whole being shot thing, I guess).

“Crazy is a good word for it.”

He leaned forward, beckoning for me to move in even closer with a wave of his hand. I complied, although I was a little confused as to why we were being so secretive.

“Hey, sorry, but... I can’t let you in tonight. You know I normally would, but the place is swarming with feds tonight.”

Then I remembered that I actually had to explain the reason for my absence, rather than just think about it in the abstract. “Oh no, I know.” I peered around him, trying to spot the man past the door. It wasn’t hard, considering how goddamn tall he was.

I pointed to him, causing Tom to turn with an amused grin before I explained, “I’m here for the drunk noodle man.”

The look on his face – hilarious, and a little insulting.

“What? Jailbait’s picking up a fed? Damn girl what’ve you been into?” He laughed, barely able to control himself. He laughed so hard, in fact, I’m surprised there weren’t tears in his eyes.

“Stop that.” I whined, but he didn’t listen.

“Does he know who he’s dating?”

The question hurt more than he could have anticipated. I didn’t want to confront those messy feelings, so I bundled them all into an annoyed exclamation. “Yes, he knows!” I huffed, crossing my arms and turning away from him as I stepped towards the door. “So can I go get him?”

He composed himself rather quickly after that, shaking his head and unhooking the rope that blocked off the door. “Please do. If I have to hear one more fact about Ancient Rome, I might quit.”

With the last obstacle gone, I happily skipped through the door, the excitement returning in a bubbling wave through my chest. “Thanks, Tom!” I chirped, barely giving him a glance as I raced through the door.

The only person more surprised to see me than Tom was Spencer. Although, to his credit, I did practically launch myself at his side. We both nearly toppled to the ground thanks to our lack of coordination, but we were luckily stopped by the bar he was leaning against.

“Boo!” I shouted in his ear, hearing a small, surprised gasp from my boyfriend.

“(Y/n)?” He turned towards me now, stars quickly forming in his eyes as a big, goofy smile spread across his face. It took him a minute, but eventually he recognized me in the dim light.

“Hey old man.”

Hugging me back just a little too tightly, he began to gush, “Oh my gosh. What are you doing here?” Of course, before I could answer, he came to several other conclusions. “Wait! This is a bar. You can’t be here! You aren’t twenty one!”

He thought he was whispering, but he definitely, definitely was not.

“I’m here to pick you up, not party.” I actually whispered back, turning to see JJ practically hiding at the table. I’m guessing he hasn't wanted her to call me, although I was pretty sure he wouldn’t care at this point. He seemed pretty happy I was there.

“You can’t pick me up. You’re hurt.”

I didn’t even know where to start with that, so I just chuckled. “Smart as a whip, Dr. Reid.”

I ran my hands over his shoulders, smoothing out the wrinkled dress shirt he'd either had no time to iron, or had worn to bed the night before. I didn’t like either of those options. Spencer must have noticed me analyzing the fact, because his hand came up to stop me.

Trying to quickly change the subject, I blurted out over the terrible music, “Even when I’m hurt, I can probably still pick you up. You probably weigh the same as me.”

He scoffed, looking down at his lanky body compared to mine before shaking his head. “That’s hurtful, (y/n).” He attempted a puppy dog face, which only made laughter burst from my pursed lips.

Grabbing hold of his wrists and pulling him away from the bar, I turned and waved to the few team members I could spot among the crowd before returning to my drunken idiot of a boyfriend. “Come on, love. It’s time to take you home with me.”

When the cool autumn air hit him, I felt the goosebumps ripple over his arm. He leaned a bit closer, resting too much of his body weight on me for my comfort, but I wasn’t going to tell him to stop.

“How did you find me?” He mumbled, trying to touch me more than he currently was. Pushing him away from me was supposed to serve as a gentle reminder that we were in public, but he didn’t seem to care about that at all.

“JJ called me.”

“They all like you a lot. So do I.” His fast responses were a little less impressive considering how spontaneous they seemed, but I let it slide. As long as he was saying nice things, it was fine by me.

Guiding him as gently as possible, which is to say not gently at all considering he was essentially a human giraffe, I sighed. “I’m glad to hear it, Spencer. Maybe I can actually hang out with them one of these days.”

The guilt appeared before I could stop it, but it was the least of my worries at the moment. More concerning would be getting him into his house and in bed without either of us doing something stupid. After all, he was usually the one who stopped me from being stupid. And so far tonight, he’d already done something pretty damn stupid.

As I pulled the driver side door closed, a silence filled the car. Spencer was stuck between staring at me with a lovesick smile and looking away, probably because of his pink cheeks making him look a perfect combination of embarrassed and plastered.

“So what had you drinking, Spencer?”

“A case.” He shot back with that voice he usually reserved for the bedroom. It was the voice that told me not to press, to take his answer and let it die.

Unfortunately, I couldn't really do that this time, concerning this particular topic. . “Good thing or bad thing drinking?” I asked quietly.

I think he wanted to snap at me, to tell me that it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but he didn’t. The way my hands and words trembled told him that I was just as scared as he was that the answer might be the wrong one.

“I don’t know,” was what he said, instead.

“Okay.” I accepted that answer, understanding that it meant we could talk about it later, when his blood went back to normal and his mind was where it should be. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

And there we were, me sitting and staring at the indicators on the car as the engine turned, and him staring at me in the little light provided. After staring back at him for a moment, I had to ask the glaringly obvious question.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

That’s when Spencer Reid let out an honest to god giggle, his hands reaching out to massage my face that no longer showed any signs of the black eye I'd received a few weeks prior. “You’re sooo pretty.” He drawled, slumping over in his seat so he could rest his face against my shoulder.

I couldn’t help but laugh back, petting his hair for a second before returning my attention to the wheel. “Oooh, I like this.” I whispered, letting my heart skip a few beats as he nuzzled into the warmth that only I could provide him.

“I love you.” He mumbled against my shirt, letting out a deep breath before apparently trying to fill his lungs with the smell of my laundry detergent.

The sensation of his breath hot against my neck caused a familiar desire to stir in me, just barely beaten out by the even more powerful adoration I had for the puppy-like man who was already practically asleep on my shoulder.

“I love you, too, darling.”

He didn’t hear me, his soft breath indicating that he would be out for the drive. Taking my time to avoid the roads with potholes and curves, I managed to keep Spencer on me the whole way back to his apartment. Once we were there, though, I didn’t have any option but to wake him up. Unlike him, I definitely could not carry him out of the car.

It took him a surprisingly long period of time to realize that we were not, in fact, at my place. As soon as he did notice, he rubbed his eyes like it would transform the door in front of him. “Why didn’t you take me home?”

“This is your apartment, babe.” I explained, digging through his pockets to find his keys. He jumped at the contact before letting out a sound that was way too close to a moan for him to be making in the hallway.

“Yeah that’s not home.” He answered, swallowing down other noises that threatened to erupt by the time I withdrew my hand. “But home is–“ He hiccuped, patting his finger on my nose as he tried to stabilize his feet. “Home is where you are.”

“Mmm, so smooth.” I hummed, unlocking the door and shoving his drunk ass into the apartment before he could do something else that made me question whether I should just turn around and go home.

But he just looked so proud of himself, spinning around on his feet and crashing into the table beside the door. “Thank you!” He chirped, reaching forward to grab my hand and pull me closer.

When our bodies pressed together, the first thing I noticed was the fact he was clearly much more excited to be home with me than he was letting on. The thin fabric of his slacks left little to the imagination, and when my hand slid over the tent in his pants, there was nothing left to wonder.

“I brought you here... because I didn’t want to have to be quiet.” I purred, palming his erection over his clothes.

Through his broken moans, he still managed to ask the silliest question: “Why are you going to be loud?”

He was so fucking cute; so remarkably innocent in his drunken stupor, it was hard to remember that he was the same man that once finger fucked me on the metro.

“Why do you think?” I asked just as sweetly, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

Spencer still just stared, mesmerized by the way the buttons slipped from the fabric between my fingers. Once they were all open, I ran my hands over his chest before wrapping my arms around his neck.

He was the one to close the gap, coming down to deliver a feverish kiss against my lips. He tasted like honey and whiskey, and I wanted nothing more than to drown in him. His hands were on my lower back, sneaking under my shirt and spreading goosebumps all over my skin.

I moaned into his mouth with the utmost desperation, murmuring words against his lips. “Take me to bed, Spencer,” I begged.

The words awoke something in him, and suddenly, his hands were off of me and raised in the air.

“Wait— I can’t.” He concluded, drawing in heavy breaths.

“Why not?”

I wasn’t sure which part of this situation did him in, although I had my suspicions. As much as I wanted him, I would suppress those urges if he was really, truly uncomfortable. I almost felt bad for a second, but then he spoke again.

“I have a girlfriend.”

With a few slow blinks, I tried to figure out how the hell I was supposed to return a serious answer. Deciding that was impossible, I deadpan replied, “I am your girlfriend, you absolute idiot.”

I took his stunned silence to be permission enough to start leading him into his room. He honestly looked like I’d just told him all the answers to the universe, and he trailed after me like my hand was a leash. Still, once I sat on the bed and pulled his body against mine, he paused again.

“My girlfriend can’t— she’s hurt. She can’t have sex with me.”

I got the impression he was trying to reason with himself more so than with me, which explained the third person. But it was deeply unsettling, because I really needed to know he was here in this moment with me.

“Stop saying 'she'. It’s me, babe.” I gently reminded, and I watched it dawn on him again, his eyes lighting up in the darkness. Sliding my hand up his arm, I pulled him forward to hopefully convince him to climb into the bed with me. “And we don’t have to have sex.”

Funny enough, Spencer was the one who had enough sense to strip off most of his clothes before he stumbled onto the mattress after me. His lack of coordination was even worse with the alcohol, and it reminded me of the virginal teenager I’m certain he once was.

It was strange to consider, that if we’d met each other under different circumstances, at a different time, our roles might have been somewhat reversed. To picture him as an innocent little thing was... kind of exciting.

But he was anything but innocent now, his face hanging over mine while he helped me disrobe, trying to focus his analytical abilities on me in his haze. Finding no pain or hesitancy, he crashed his lips over mine with an energy I hadn’t seen in some time.

And it was so invigorating, to feel his skin against mine without him having to constantly worry about whether or not he was hurting me. It’d been far too long since we shared a bed together like this, and now that it was happening, I could hardly breathe.

“God, I love her.” He whispered against my skin, before quickly correcting himself, “I love you.”

I laughed, the kind that sputters from your lips when you try to hold it back. Pushing the hair from his face, I ran my fingers over his scalp. “How drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk, I’m stupid.” He replied with a cheeky smirk, diving back down to kiss me again. I wasn’t going to argue with the brilliant Spencer Reid, even if the point he was making was that he was, in fact, stupid.

Maybe it was stupid, the two of us tangling up in his sheets despite the fact that I hadn’t been cleared for it yet by my doctor. I knew that it was coming soon – probably at my appointment in a couple weeks, actually – so why wait? I knew that Spencer would never hurt me. Even now, his hands were gentle in their insistence, raking over my hip and stopping just short of the place where I really wanted him.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He groaned, his hips rocking forward and pressing his erection against my leg.

“Touch me.” I ordered, louder and more forcefully than I intended. I was expecting an argument, but I didn’t get one. In fact, Spencer’s finger had already breached my folds before I even finished talking. Unwilling to let him be the only one to enjoy himself, I reached down to grab his cock.

“Shit.” He hissed, biting down on his lip while he rutted against my hand. “I just want to hold you down and fuck you until you cry.” The restraint was obvious in the fingers slowly sinking into me, his jaw clenched and his eyes barely able to stay open. “But I can’t.”

Through my heavy breaths, I panted out another request. “Tell me more about it.”

He immediately realized why I’d asked, and his fingers began to pump in and out of me faster and with more force, his lips trailing kisses over to my ear. While I tried to keep up the pace of my strokes, it became more complicated when his breath fanned over my ear.

“It’s been so long since I bent you over and had my way with you like I did that morning over your kitchen counter...” He moaned, and I could almost feel the sensations as he remembered them. Although his fingers would never be the same, just having him inside me in any capacity felt like pure bliss.

But he wasn’t done, continuing to speak his thoughts into my ear. “I just want to—fuck, I want to fill you up.” I went to respond, but I choked on a sob, instead. The lewd sounds between us only aided his descriptions.

“God, I love the way you feel. You’re always so wet for me.” He whispered, beginning to make small thrusts with his hips. The movement essentially allowed him to use my hand to stroke himself, and he let out another unsteady moan at the contact. “Think about what it feels like, little girl.”

“I-I am.” I could barely make the words come out; my body too sensitive to his touch after being starved of it for so long. And Spencer was ready to take full advantage of that.

“I still have so much planned for you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that little stunt you pulled when you got all riled up.” He growled, using his free hand to grab a fistful of my hair. He yanked my head further to the side, laying sloppy kisses along my jaw. “I told you I’d give you triple the marks you left on me, and I can’t wait to cover you with me.”

“Fuck. Please, Spencer.” I hoarsely begged, my hand on his shoulder tightening so that my nails dug into his skin. If his grip on my hair wasn’t so tight, I would have thrown my head back. Instead, I just squirmed underneath him, crying out, “I’m so close, Spencer, please!”

He did not disappoint, his fingers curling inside of me with each thrust, and by some grace of God, he was able to coordinate his thumb over my clit. As if that wasn’t enough, he pulled back to look me in the eyes.

“I want to feel you come on my fingers.” It was more of a demand than a desire, as evidenced by the way his hand tugged on my hair. “Come on, little girl. Make daddy proud.”

Just like that, my body responded to his call, my muscles trembling from the tension as my orgasm hit me like a fucking freight train. It was such an overwhelming experience, to remember exactly how Spencer was capable of making me feel.

And he knew it, too. “Oh, good girl,” he cooed, continuing his kisses against my neck and murmuring the words as they came to him. “That’s my pretty little slut.”

After taking my time coming back to earth, I struggled from the overstimulation still burning between my legs. Spencer hadn’t stopped his fingers, which were diligently stroking inside of me while he continued to buck his hips against my hand.

“I want you to finish inside me.” I slurred in my delirium, withdrawing my hand from his dick while he whimpered.

“I-I can’t. I can’t fuck you.” He was asserting a necessary and understandable hard limit, and it was clear I wouldn’t be able to convince him to fuck me that night.

But that wasn’t the plan, anyway.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I said between gasps, struggling against his fingers still inside me. “Come up here.” I whined, rubbing my hands on his shoulders while simultaneously trying to sit myself up.

The movement and the words made him withdraw completely. “(Y/n)...” He warned, running a hand through his hair while he sat up on his knees. “I could hurt you.”

“That’s always been a risk with us, Spencer.” My retort was both quick and persuasive, judging by the way he almost moved, but stopped himself yet again.

“Please. Please, do it. I want you to do it so fucking bad.” There was an obvious and deep desperation. I was literally begging him, to the point that I swore I almost cried. It felt stupid, but I needed him like I’d never needed anything in my life before. He’d spent months taking care of me, and I couldn’t do anything in return.

I just wanted to make him feel good, to give him something like we used to share.

Of course, I think those thoughts were also visible on my face, and they were obviously worrying him. With tender touches, Spencer’s fingers lightly trailed over the side of my face. The brief flashes of clarity alerted him of my struggle, and he let out a shaky breath at the war inside his own mind.

“I want to feel you inside me, and this is the only way.” I concluded, trying to lead him to the simplest conclusion. It was the safest, easiest way to solve both of our current problems. And although I could see how hard the decision was for him, my pleading eventually bested him.

“Fuck.” He mumbled, leaning forward to grab the headboard, staring down at me as I shimmied further up the wood.

“Fuck!” He repeated, rolling his head back with a light groan when both of my hands reached forward to grab his hips. “Fine. You’re lucky you’re so fucking cute.”

A giggle bubbled through my throat, and my body actually bounced in excitement as he slowly positioned himself in front of me. I wasn’t even sure which I was more excited for, my own orgasm or getting to finally give him one again.

As soon as my mouth closed around the head of his dick, I got my answer. Spencer’s moan filled the room, his hands holding so firmly on the headboard that the entire bed creaked. Although I figured he’d been taking care of himself in my absence, it appeared that wasn’t entirely the case. He seemed just as starved as I was.

“Holy shit.” He groaned, dropping a hand to the top of my head. I had to remind myself that he was drunk, which explained why he seemed so much more responsive than normal, with whimpers and pants flowing steadily through his mouth. He only got louder as he began to slowly push himself further into my mouth, stopping every few inches to retreat before pressing further.

“God, I need to do this more often. No back talk, no whining.” He said in a low tone under his breath, beginning to settle on a steady rhythm.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t think of anything except how fucking good it felt to be useful again, to feel him struggling to hold himself back as he started to more aggressively fuck my mouth. My eyes could barely stay open, but I needed them to. I needed to see him in the dim light of the streetlights that peered through the window.

He looked so beautiful, so perfect, and so mine. Feeling him slide back and forth against my tongue revived memories from long before and reignited my longstanding desire to do anything to please him. In all his caretaking, I was worried he might have forgotten how to control me.

But he hadn't. Thank god, he hadn’t.

“Come on, little girl. Earn your fill.” He whispered, burying himself in my throat and holding me against the headboard. I only lightly choked on the intrusion before my body complied, swallowing him further until my lips were pressed against the base of him.

Suddenly, Spencer withdrew, beginning a brutal, dizzying pace. Now, my eyes couldn’t stay open, rolling to the back of my head as I used my hands to steady myself against his thighs. The sobs trying to escape felt more like moans, and they shoved Spencer over the edge he’d been riding in his caution.

“That’s it. Take it.” He barked the instruction, looking down at me and smiling, “Don’t you dare spill any of it, do you hear me?”

My answer was stifled against him, just the way he wanted it to be. And with a few more rough thrusts, Spencer buried himself as deep as possible. I swore my heart synchronized with the pulsing against my tongue as his seed spilled down my throat.

I hollowed my cheeks, trying to drain every last drop from him as he finished. It had its desired effect, and Spencer grabbed my hair and forced himself deeper one more time with a growl. “Good girl.”

Once he had enough, he pulled out of me with a satisfied grunt, waiting just a second before clumsily falling onto the bed beside me. I laughed as he hit the pillows, obviously too tired to even reposition himself in the disastrous sheets.

“Thank you, daddy.” I spoke in the silence, gingerly cleaning the spit that had dripped down my chin.

“Fuck.” The curse was muffled in the pillow, but I understood it well enough. He seemed more concerned when I started to sink down into the sheets again, reaching a tentative hand out to him.

Finally rolling over, he grabbed my arm and guided me closer. “Come here.” He said with the tenderness I’d grown used to over the past few months. He turned towards me, apparently not ready for me to sleep on my side just yet.

He brushed my hair from my face, lifting the sheets to look at the now mostly healed wound. I hated it when he looked at it. It just reminded me that I’d never be the same girl he first met. Every time he saw it, he would remember that day. I didn’t want to think about it.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

But even with the insecurity and anger in my gut, I wasn’t lying when I answered. “No, I’m fine.” My heart was so full, my body relaxing for the first time in so long. I was just so unbelievably happy to be together again. Even if it wasn’t like last time, it was still just as wonderful.

“I’m a little better than fine, actually.” I admitted with a bright smile.

Spencer hummed something in thought, but then winced. “Do me a favor.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes and wiping a heavy hand over his face.

“Anything.”

“Kick my ass in the morning.”

He was caught off guard by my response, which was a full-hearted laugh that was too loud for how close the two of were. But I couldn’t help it, it was just so Spencer to still be punishing himself despite the fact that nothing bad had happened.

Once I calmed down enough to talk, I turned to him with a devilish grin. “I don’t wanna.”

Then were both laughing, and Spencer pulled me close to him until he could rest his chin on the top of my head, curling up against my side. “Spoiled brat.” He whined, running his hand through my hair and down my arm.

When I smelled the whiskey on his breath, the guilt hit me just as hard as any of the pleasure. I'd been so excited to get to experience this with him again, I almost forgot the reason he didn’t want to do it in the first place.

He just didn’t want to hurt me. He just wanted to make me happy.

“I just wanted to be with you again... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” I whispered, pulling the covers up so that I could hide my shame beneath them.

“I wanted to be with you, too.” He reassured me, half asleep and barely able to talk but wanting to get the words out. “I know it’s important to you, but I need you to know I would be with you even if I never got to touch you again.”

“Please never stop touching me.” I quickly replied, a genuine worry in my eyes.

But when Spencer glanced over, he just laughed, “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“No? Even when I get pregnant and have a big ol’ belly?” I playfully answered, bringing his hand to my stomach and pressing it against the side that still remained intact.

The familiar position caused a shift in Spencer’s body language, and suddenly he was even more insistent on being impossibly closer. “You’ll still be irresistible to me.” He said against my hair, running his fingers lightly over the unmarked skin of my lower stomach.

“We’ll see, I guess.” I mumbled, not realizing that I said it aloud until I heard his confused reply.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” The defensiveness in my voice was terrifyingly transparent, and I hoped that if his drinking made him forget anything, it would be this conversation. “Go to sleep, drunk ass.”

“I need hugs and kisses first.” He complained, rubbing his nose against me in a way that should have been irritating instead of adorable.

“Spoiled.” I grumbled, reaching a hand up to play with his hair. I turned to kiss his cheek through the smile that was plastered over my cheeks.

Already half snoring in his sleepy state, he got out one more cringe worthy joke before he succumbed to his exhaustion. “What’s good for the goose...”

“...is good for the gander.” I finished for him, before taking the advice and following him to sleep.

—————————————————

| Part 18 |

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daisybeewrites · 3 years ago

Text

Academy Blues — Prologue

word count: 1.8k

warnings: not any for this chapter

ship: Dousy, background Fitzsimmons and Philinda

okay y’all.. here it is. the first installment of my first LONG TERM SERIES!!!!!! ahhhh i’m so excited. literally i cant wait to continue this and see where it takes me. i have an idea and a few different planning sheets, but honestly i have no idea where exactly this will end up. i love each and single one of you <3 thank you for reading!! this is also posted on Ao3, and linked in the masterlist.

Daisy hated the sound of the bells at The Academy. Screeching, awful, way too loud, the bells were the bane of her existence. They all wore standard-issue watches from the lab that monitored vitals and gave them reminders, and also told the time, for god’s sake! Fitz had even modified hers so that she could play snake on the tiny watch face! There was no need for the bells to be so excruciatingly disruptive. Though, Daisy guessed, there were many things more tortuous than bells ringing every hour and fifteen minutes.

Daisy slowed to a jog, cutting her morning run short. The bright side to being a third-year was that you chose your schedule, for the most part, and that meant Daisy had a free first period for four out of five days of classes. She usually spent this free period getting an extra hour in at the gym, boxing or sparring with Mack or Bobbi, two fourth years that had reluctantly taken her under their wings, or sleeping in. She reserved sleeping in for especially rough nights where visions of ashes and earthquakes and lightning returned time and time again, no matter how many deep breaths she took or sheep she counted.

But this morning was not one of those mornings. She had been up before sunrise, a little before her usual alarm and silently headed out of her dorm for a run. It was humid this time of year on most Virginia mornings, but never so hot that it made Daisy feel as if she was being smothered. The cooler air chilled her sweaty skin, her chest rising and falling as she jogged up the three flights of steps to the second years’ dorms. Down one long hallway, and she arrived at her room.

Daisy had been given her own room at the start of last year, complete with poly-adaptic-proto-whatever panels, which she had painted a pastel shade of purple, to compliment the greens of her cacti and the dark purples and blacks of everything else in her room. Even May had agreed that the stark white was too ”psych wing” for a bedroom. Daisy was grateful for the space, but considering the panels and the private room were only necessary since...

She shuddered. Grabbing her shower caddy, Daisy set off to the bathroom at the opposite end of the hall, hoping no one else was spending a free first period at the dorms.

Her shoulder-length waves were wet from bouncing against her neck, and starting to become annoying now that the sweat had dried and was starting to itch. Picking the white tiled shower furthest away from the door, Daisy quickly turned the water on, checked the temperature, pulled her sports bra and shorts off and hopped into the shower. Shampoo, condition, soap body, rinse. Checking her watch, Daisy found that she had showered in record time, less than three minutes. After spending another five just enjoying the hot water, she hopped out and changed into her class clothes.

Dark purple leggings, Coulson’s grey vintage SHIELD tee and a pair of white running sneakers she had “borrowed” from Jemma completed her look. Passing the mirrors, Daisy tried not to glance at herself. If her hair was messy or her undereye bags a bit too dark, she didn’t want to know. Instead, she headed back to her room to pack her bag for the day.

SHIELD-issued laptop, extra hard drives and a charger, Advanced CS 3: Ethical Hacking: Theory and Application, Advanced CS 4: Secrets of The Coding Languages, Physics notebook, an essay that was three days late on some boring book about international laws, and her sparring gear were all thrown into the black bag. She gave a second glance at the Russian notebooks Bobbi had loaned to her, promising that she’d learn without taking the class. Oh well, she still had all of this term to start. Plus, would she ever really need more than the dirty words?

One look at the alarm clock that sat on her dark hardwood night table showed that she still had almost forty-five minutes before she had to be in the computer lab. Sitting down on her bed, Daisy ran a hand over the grey blanket May had given her.

Daisy’s relationship with May and Coulson had been something of a problem with other students when she first got here. Some had been okay with the obvious paternal love Coulson showed for Daisy, showing her around and checking up on her, scheduling lunch dates and reminding her of tests. May was more subtle, texting her links to tai chi videos when she noticed Daisy getting too stressed or letting Daisy do her own thing if she saw that she was overwhelmed. Of course, none of the other students knew her family history, what she had gone through just to realize that May and Coulson were more her parents than her biological father and mother could ever be. She would see them later today—May during field training and Coulson in between lectures in the canteen.

Daisy walked over to her window to open her blinds, staring out at the campus she had grown to love. The large brick buildings scattered around acres of the Virginia countryside; green fields meant for physical activities like sparring or obstacle courses, or simply basking in the weather to study or chat; the dorms—red brick and concrete melded together to upgrade and expand the charming style of previously-built homes.

Grabbing a protein bar, Daisy headed to the canteen to make a green smoothie (and maybe snatch a cup of joe before she had to listen to an hour-long lecture on the reason SHIELD must cooperate with the UN’s stupid rules at 7:30 in the morning). Smelling the pines and morning dew surrounding her, she smiled slightly. Maybe this term wouldn’t be so bad.

———————————————————————

Daniel Sousa was a man of honor. He was a man of great strength. Agent Daniel Sousa, previously Officer Daniel Sousa in the US Army, was a man who could fix his damn alarm clock on his own.

Just, not today. Or the day before.

So, Agent Daniel Sousa was now hurrying his way to class at The SHIELD Academy, books in hand and gym bag slung over his shoulders. Catching a glance at himself in the shiny glass doors of the bio-chem building, he groaned. He hadn’t even brushed his hair. And, looking down, he discovered he was wearing two different shoes.

This is the college experience everyone raves about, he thought bitterly. You see, Daniel Sousa had enlisted to the army straight out of high school, forgoing university. He climbed the ranks impressively quickly, earning his place as second-in-command and reconnaissance scout in the 28th Infantry Regiment. Unfortunately, after only four years in the army, Sousa was injured in the field, losing his leg and almost his life.

He came back to the US a war hero, and yet, he felt he wasn't finished. So, when a recruiter named Peggy Carter knocked on his door claiming to be from SHIELD (“Wow, you guys are still a thing?”), he leapt at the chance to continue fighti-...doing good. The Academy wasn’t exactly what he had bargained for, though. Trying to earn his B.A. and training to be an agent at the same time was grueling, but nothing he couldn’t deal with.

No, six different one hour and fifteen minute long classes plus mandatory physical therapy every day wasn’t going to break him. Learning how to be a communications agent and re-starting field training and catching up on general college education was no problem. Pressuring himself to be the best, to break the limits, to get past all his weaknesses was just another miniscule feather to add to the pile.

Unless his stupid alarm clock broke. Then yes, Agent Daniel Sousa would fail, buckle under the weight and be left on the floor to die.

Maybe he was being a bit dramatic.

One bunny-slippered right foot and a sneakered left leg carried him forward, propelled by a quickly chugged orange Celsius and his sheer will not to be late.

Daniel heard the late bell ring out, understanding that, on his first day of class, he would be counted late. It wasn’t like him, not at all. Especially when his first class was a refresher course on field tactics and covert strategy, something in which he was already aces.

He let out a sigh, slowing as he rounded the corner into the comms building. At the Academy, most buildings were grouped into categories: the cafeteria, gym and pool, and student resource building all to the south; the gun range, obstacle course, and specialized gym to the east; bio-chem labs, tech labs, and smaller rooms for lectures to the west; the computer labs and comms buildings right smack in the middle; and dorms to the north.

He swiped a key card with his driver’s license picture and student ID, unlocking the sliding doors that led to the computer labs. It was quicker to short cut through them than to walk around the building to the entrance closest to communications classrooms.

It wasn’t because he knew a certain broody brunette spent her mornings in the lab.

No, it wasn’t, because she wasn’t in her usual seat in the corner, typing away.

He slowly walked through the rows of computers, searching for a familiar black backpack. Nothing was there.

“Hey, Sousa,” an accented female voice called behind him. He whipped around to see who it was, feeling just a twinge of disappointment when Elena, or, as most people knew her, Yo-Yo, was leaning against the door frame. Yo-Yo, a fourth year operations trainee, who was very close with Daisy.

“Hey, Yo-Yo. Good morning,” he called, “I’m running a bit late.”

Elena checked her nails casually, “Way to state the obvious. You were running faster than I could trying to get here before the bell.”

Daniel rubbed the back of his neck and blushed. “Yeah…”

“Daisy’s running late today, too.”

Daniel looked around, pretending that hearing Daisy’s name didn’t make him want to smile. “Oh, of course. She’s usually here early.”

Elena nodded, chuckling a little at his response. She couldn’t tell if he was oblivious or just a bad liar. It was charming, really. “Right. See ya ‘round, Sousa!”

“See ya,” He replied. He thought he heard a quiet ‘Lovable nerds’ coming from the direction she left, but he couldn’t be sure.

And so, with a last look around the computer lab, Daniel set off to arrive late to May’s lecture.

———————————————————————

okay okay,,, what do y’all think?? like/reblog and let me know! it’s the best way to support writers and it only takes a second! stay tuned for more chapters!!

#academy blues #daisy johnson #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#dousy #daisy johnson x daniel sousa #timequake #daniel sousa #jemma simmons #leo fitz #fitzsimmons #philinda #philindaisy #ashby’s fics #marvels aos #au!

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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years ago

Text

Summer Nights.

Izuku Midoriya X Reader

Summary: Sweet summer nights paired with some free time with your cute boyfriend always seem to lead to something more.

WARNINGS!: Hand job, slight exhibitionism??

Category: Fluff / Smut

Word Count: 3k

A/N: It is summer time let me indulge in the classics,,

Just To Clarify:

You’re third years

This summer camp is by a river in a forest and not in the mountains

Though it’s not mentioned, summer camp lasts 7 days not 4

Perm. Tag List:

@coupsieddori @desia2 @strwbrry-lia

Ragged breaths echoed in your ear as a toned body leaned back in your secure embrace,

wiggling as his sweaty palms gripped your forearms to stabilize himself.

“(Y-Y/N), wait..!” He gasped, mind filled with dirty thoughts and anticipation as your palms smoothed down his shirt covered belly, fingers tracing the outline of his abs as they inched their way towards the waistband of his black gym shorts with a noticeable bulge.

“Hmm? Why’s that, Izuku?” You drawled out, hot breath fanning over his sensitive ear, adoring the way a whimper slipped past his lips.

“B-because- guah..!”

You nipped at his ear lobe, nuzzling your nose against his hot neck.

“Be a good boy, use your words. Because what?” You purred, kissing down his nape, licking a trail to his sweet spot, latching on and lathering it in attention that had shivers falling down his body, head flopping to the side to give you more room to do as you pleased as if you didn’t have enough room already.

You had barely even begun and yet here he was, sounding wrecked and sporting a cute wet spot on his shorts. The sight of it made you lick your lips, how adorable.

It was strange how this all began, neither of you quite expecting alone time to relax together to take such a lewd turn so quickly, but it was clear neither of you were complaining. In fact, it seemed more like the two of you were wishing for it to happen.

The fourth day of summer camp down by the river during your third year at U.A was coming to a close, hot, blistering day turning into a cool, relaxing night.

Most students were exhausted after such a strenuous day working on their quirks yet again. Some even went straight to bed after dinner was finished and cleaned up, but some, like you, werent tired at all.

It wasn’t that the few left hadn’t worked hard, in fact, some could say that out of the seven of you still sitting around the campfire, three had worked the hardest out of everyone in the class.

But yet, they were still filled with joy, laughter filling the air as crickets chirped all around, the scent of warm vanilla in the air as you all made ‘smores with the crackling heat in front of you.

Ghost stories were passed around, some scary and some eccentric, but each and every one told brought a reaction out of the people who listened to it.

Your hand clutched a much larger and rougher one, warm, scarred fingers encasing your own as you leaned against your curly, green-haired boyfriend who looked scared shitless.

“They’re just stories,” you had whispered in his ear, your words comforting him ever so slightly.

“Scary ones..” he sighed out, never one to be too good at handling anything remotely scary, fictional or not.

“Mmm.. we could go somewhere else?” though you were having fun surrounded by your close friends, the thought of being alone with your sweet boyfriend lit up your soul better than anyone else ever could. After all, who wouldnt want to spend some alone time with their darling after a day of being apart?

Unlike the camp two years ago, this one didnt have any strict regulations. Be in your cabin by midnight, and wake up when the siren goes off.

Simple enough, right? Perhaps it was the fact that it was the last summer camp of highschool that granted students more freedom, no one really knew, and no one was complaining at all.

Villains were out of your mind, fear replaced by fun, relaxation, and throwing up from working too hard and not hydrating enough as the sun beat down on you.

Finding his answer in the shifting of his green eyes lit up by the fire, still far too shy to admit he would love to go somewhere else, you stood up, pulling him with you. “We’re going to head out now. You guys have a good time!”

As you left, you could hear the onslaught of whispers and snickers behind you, no doubt gossiping about what you were leaving for.

But who really cared? Certainly not you, and not your boyfriend either.

No, he was too entranced with that loveable look in your eyes as you gazed up at him to even notice.

Dots of yellow flew around you, glowing brightly just for a split moment before disappearing, fireflies.

The bugs that shone like stars twinkling in the night sky.

Hair messy and heads filled with dreams, the two of you ran around, giggling like little children as a silent game of tag went on between the two of you the deeper you went into the woods surrounding the camp.

There were no security cameras, no lights, no technology for miles.

A way to keep villains off your tracks.

And it was working well enough so far, and it allowed everyone to be themselves in ways previously not allowed.

For you and Izuku, that meant being together in a simple way, basking in each other’s presence as your legs ran faster and faster through the woods, grass whipping against bare ankles as you narrowly avoided running into a tree.

Heavy breaths fell from you as you squealed whenever he would almost touch you, determined to stand your ground as long as possible before the inevitability of being ‘it’ came into play and you had to chase the speedy ball of energy with a mop of green, bouncing curls.

But you were foolish to think you could ever last so long, for before you knew it, you were being tackled to the ground by your sweaty boyfriend, his arms protecting you from a heavy fall as you both tumbled to the grassy ground, rolling down a small hill together before coming to a stop.

Propping himself up on his forearms, his bright eyes bore into your own, noses brushing as you both took a moment to catch your breaths, stray giggles mingling together.

Fireflies flew up from the ground, seemingly circling around the two of you if just for one magical moment, encasing the two of you in a warm glow that outshined the full moons own silvery one trickling through tree leaves.

You were completely and utterly in love with this freckled man above you who smiled victoriously, and you couldnt help but show it by leaning up, placing a kiss onto his cheek, feeling him go still as his face heated up.

This only led to you peppering his face in kisses, teasing him just to see his face scrunch up in frustration until he whined for a kiss on the lips, to which you eagerly gave him. With each kiss, heat passed between the two of you on that soft, grassy forest floor, your arms wrapping around his neck, his hands pulling you closer as your tongues intertwined.

Wet smacks echoed in the back of your mind as your lips continuously met, the sweetness of marshmallow and chocolate flooding your tastebuds, leaving you desiring more and more.

A small moan in the back of his throat was what set that night off, starting with you threading your fingers in his hair, pulling at his locks just to hear him moan once more, his hips pressing into yours instinctively, which is what lead you both to where you were now. Your back pressed against a locked bathroom's metal stall door, and your boyfriend back pressed against your chest as crickets drowned out any outside noises from the campers not too far away.

“B-because..” it seemed like his argument was dying on his tongue, your thumbs circling over his hips catching all of his attention despite the teeth nibbling on his skin, “i-it’s.. wrong..”

He audibly gulped when your fingers passed over the tops of his thighs, knee wedging in between his perfectly toned, tanned legs just to spread them wide open, giving him something to just barely grind against, much to his internal frustration, as you traced his inner thigh, teasing him enough for his hips to jerk the moment your touch went too close to his twitching boner.

You knew he liked this.

You knew he adored the prospect of being caught.

He was such a perv at times, desiring the kinkiest of things in wrong and right places, but you couldnt help but love that side of him as much as you loved him shy and sweet side. Afterall, he was still your baby boy, and that would never change, no matter what.

“Don’t you think it would be even more wrong to go back to your cabin sporting an erection for all those awake to see?” you questioned innocently, popping wetly off his neck just to gauge his reaction.

His spit-slicked red lips pressed into a wobbly thin line, slowly shaking his head up and down.

“Why don’t you let me help you out, love?” you kissed his cheek, humming lightly to calm his nerves.

He always was a nervous boy when it came to these things, even if he liked it and even if you had helped him out multiple times throughout the two years you’d been together.

“Please..” he pleaded, voice just barely breaking through the air as his eyes squeezed closed.

“Hm? What was that?” though you had heard his response, you wanted him to speak louder, to gain that fraction of confidence, to understand he didnt have to be so shy, not around you.

“Please.. (Y/N).. please help me..” he whimpered, hips shimmying, grinding down onto your thigh, hesitant eyes fluttering open to gaze into your own (E/C) ones, seeking encouragement, something you were all too willing to give in the form of a reassuring kiss on the lips.

He immediately fell into the rhythm of your lips meeting hotly with his again, helping him relax against you.

Your tongue invaded his hot mouth once more, running along the side of his own before exploring every crevice, brushing against spots that made his breath hitch in the back of his throat, causing him to desperately lean in for more.

A loud gasp tore from his throat as you grabbed the waistband of his shorts again, yanking them down so that his large member could be freed, slapping up against his tummy as you stared down in awe. He pulled away from your mouth, a string of saliva momentarily connecting your tongues, hissing as the cool night air hit his heated flesh.

It was embarrassing for him to see just how hard he had got in such a short amount of time, and from kisses alone no less.

But he had no time to be embarrassed or ashamed. After you lowered your leg, removing that sweet friction, your hand was quick to wrap around his thick shaft, eliciting a soft groan from him at such intimate contact.

His tip was already flushed red and oozing with precum, a bead of it trailing down his throbbing cock.

“Mm~ Already so hard for me,” your thumb ran up the underside of his dick, collecting that drip of precum, “my good boy.” you praised, eyes sparkling with excitement as his thighs twitched at being called such a name.

Your voice always had such an effect on him, only bringing out a more dominant side of yourself whenever you got to witness it, which was quite often.

You chewed at your lips as you thought of all the fun you could have with your sweet boyfriend, an action that his ever-observant green gaze picked up and made his dick twitch in anticipation for what was surely to come.

You always left him guessing.

He adored that.

Never being able to read you just right. Never being able to predict your actions, you were an enigma in these moments, and he wasnt afraid to admit that it was a huge turn on.

Slowly, your hand began to glide up and down his hardened member, careful to avoid stimulating his glans or going too fast, wanting to drag this out until he was begging for more.

He always did.

And it was always such a joy to listen to.

His hands pressed against the walls on both sides of you, unsure of where else to put them as he breathed heavily, eyes closing as he let himself bask in the pleasure your touch brought him, despite it being too slow for his current liking.

His hair tickled the skin of your neck as his head rested back on your shoulder, his jaw slack, eyebrows pinched with concentration, pants and small whimpers right next to your eagerly awaiting ear.

He was always so cute, it was hard not to flush as his hips jerk with every few pumps, subconsciously begging you to go faster without the words falling from his parted lips.

You complied with a smile, speeding up just enough to rip a stuttered moan from deep in his chest, body squirming against you at the sudden change in pace, the wet squelch of excessive precum coating your hand as it traveled up and down his length echoing in the bathroom.

“A-ahh.. hahh.. f-feels.. feels s-so nngh.. so nice..” he spoke breathlessly, as honest as always.

It filled you with glee to know you were doing well at pleasuring your man, even sparking that fire of cockiness deep within you.

“Is that so, darling?” Though it was more of a question to be left unanswered, he replied automatically, “Y-Ye- ah! H-hah! Oh! Mmmng! Ooohhh, fuck!” only for your pace to increase tenfold, twisting your hand up and down his length, fingers brushing over his leaking tip, making his hips jut forward for a mere second.

Though the thought of teasing him until he was weeping sparked your interest, you knew you had to be asleep soon, and honestly, it didnt hurt to spoil the man you loved rotten every once in a while, right?

With a clear mindset, you freely let him thrust his hips into your hand, matching the pace he was setting himself as his loud moans bounced off the pristine, white cinderblock walls, making it seem like he was much louder than he actually was, but only fueling the heal swirling in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re such a good boy for me.” you mumbled, eyes trained on his cock fucking into your hand like the horny teen he was, his arms falling down to grip at your shirt, body hunching forward as you only sped your pace up.

“G-g-od! Ah! O-oh f-fuck! A-ahhnn… g-ghhuwaahh! (Y/N)! P-princess..! H-hah-hah..! M-more..! More ple- hahh.. please!” he begged you, back arched yet head thrown blissfully back as moans flowed from his mouth like prayers, cheeks burning and thighs spreading even wider to let you move as freely as you wanted, not caring how loud or exposed he was.

He loved exposing himself completely to you.

He didnt even care that he was so turned on and leaking so much that his precum dripped messily onto the floor, all he cared about was you.

You.

Your scent.

Your touch.

Your voice.

Your breath.

You, solely you.

You always had his attention.

He was in a constant state of euphoria whenever around you, intoxication muddling his thoughts whenever he smelled your sweet scent.

“Please..!” he gasped, tummy and thighs tightening up in that familiar way they always did before his orgasm took control over his body.

Eager to oblige to his request, your other hand finally joined the party, using your palm to circle around his bulbous head best you could.

Shlick. Shlick. Shlick.

He screamed out in ecstasy, green sparks cascading around his body as his hips thrust forwards at an inhuman pace, fucking your hand that felt so good and small wrapped around him, desperate to cum, to take as much as he could while you still let him.

“My sweet baby.. You’re doing so good~ you’re so close, arent you..”

You spoke out, being met with moans that got louder and more high-pitched with each passing second, no doubt loud enough to breach the thin barrier of protection around this bath house, seeping out into the woods surrounding it.

“S-so good! So good! G-gahh.!

Ah!

So! So! G-good!

Fuck..!

F-fuck!

Fuck~!

Oh, fuck!” he chanted, broken words stuttered by his own moans of pleasure, drool dribbling down the corner of his mouth as his tongue flopped out, dripping onto the exposed skin of your neck, but you were too focused on the way he cutely got himself off with your hands alone.

He was such a big boy, you couldnt even fully wrap your fingers around him, and you knew that only made him hornier each time he noticed it.

“Aaah! (Y/N)! (Y-Y/N)! I-i! Mmghnmn! Ahh-ahh! I’m g-gonna!!”

“Cum for me, Izuku.”

The second you allowed him two, his back was arching, body stilling as a silent scream flew from his vocal chords, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

A heavenly moan, louder than the ones youve heard all night, thrashed its way from his throat, shaking your very soul as thick ropes of thick, hot cum spurted from the tip of his flushed cock, spilling into the toilet you had aimed him for below, hand continuously pumping him to milk him dry, the last bit of cum falling onto your fingers wrapped below his head.

His body relaxed, slumping against you as he fought to control his breath from such a mind-numbing orgasm.

Pleased at his performance, you sweetly kissed his temple, nuzzling your cheek against his sweaty head as he slowly calmed down.

“Thank you…” he wheezed out, voice cracking as his eyes opened just barely to look over at you, a small smile on his plump lips.

“Of course.” You’d do anything for the man who lit up your life like the stars in the sky, but that’s not to say he wouldnt do the same. Before you knew it, he was on his knees and eager to please.

Who were you to say no?

#izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #n/sfw #bnha deku x reader #mha deku x reader #mha izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x you #deku x you #izuku x you #midoriya izuku x you #hhhhh

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phoebehalliwell · 4 years ago

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if you could give 3 positive and 3 negative personality traits to each of the next gen, what would they be?

ooh love it. okay. we know i talk a lot. A Lot. i’m doing this in waves. first set of siblings under the cut (wcm). 2.9k. ily!

wyatt i think it’s say kind bc like. he genuinely tries really hard to be a nice person. considerate which is kind of the same as kind but again he like. he knows the elders almost killed him as a little kid he knows there’s a world where he does go dark side and that does weigh on him, so he tries to put other’s feelings first as much as possible. and then third positive trait ummmm generous which again is kinda all in the same category but it’s like. like wyatt is insanely talented not just like as a witch tho he’s that too he’s also like really smart but he’s not a dick about it he’s one of those kids who’s always like i’ll help u with your homework! what r u doing after school later! like. he has a wealth of knowledge and he doesn’t just sit on it he likes to share. this is one of the reasons henry jr is also so close with wyatt because like. they both share this genuine love and interest in the study of like old magicks so to speak like. histories of witches and demons etc most classes the rest of the next gen honestly find kinda boring. on the flipside his negative traits would be like um a tendency to play by the book he’s a little too strict not because he necessarily believes in it but more again he wants to stay in line so as not to get you know. murdered or w/e. another negative trait is a i would say wyatt gets like way too overattached, especially in relationships, but it’s not limited to that. yes he’s a jump then fall guy & i’ve written about this before (multiple times), but i also think it’s the same with like innocents. like the fact of the matter is is that you literally cannot save anyone but wyatt has never and will never learn to accept that and i think he gets. he takes it real hard whenever he loses somebody and gets really pissy and closed off in the aftermath. a third negative trait is like. overprotective. like. in my writings he’s not the twice blessed anymore but he’s still wicked powerful, and he’s also like. the eldest. so he kind of feels this burden to protect his family. it doesn’t help that throughout their youth like chris ever the demon hunter always sought out trouble and leo who Really Didn’t Want To Watch Chris Die Again kind of always passed on whatever the mission was to wyatt. which, yeah, gave chris issues, but it also gave wyatt issues! because in his head, it really is his responsibility to handle these things for his family. and, yes, sometimes he can relinquish this power a little bit like not actively hover over his family while they’re demon hunting, but if he’s not you know. actively there, he’s either scrying or he’s sensing (if he can do that idk) and just. he’s got this feeling that anything bad that happens to his family is his fault. like he has this great power, so if someone gets hurt, like, he should have been there because he definitely could have stopped it. however, this energy kinda harshes everyone else’s buzz, which is why the other tend not to involve wyatt in their plotlines too much.

moving on to chris who just for the record i already wrote for but thanks to the beauty of this site i accidentally clicked the wrong button & now it's gone. so. take two! i don't remember what i said. okay so first trait i'm giving him is. i honest to god cannot remember what i said previously no wait that's a lie because i remember now because it was interesting. because i think chris is interesting, and i think that's a good thing. because like. i wouldn't describe him as likeable i would not say he has the personality trait of Likable™ because like. he doesn't. but people still really like him. because he is interesting. like they see him and go huh wow i wanna know what's going on there all in all i think people kinda gravitate towards him. but of course flipside i think he doesn't necessarily choose to become friends with everyone who approaches him i think he tends to be a bit picky just because you know he's so guarded so i think he has friends but no like. really super close friends. so like first negative trait is he kinda appears aloof because i mean. he's kinda gotta lotta issues you know and it's not something you can really easily explain to someone non-magical because magic is so deeply ingrained into who he is (which also adds to the aloofness because there are just certain topics he'll drop certain things he just won't talk about and its not because he doesn't care or anything it's just like. that's a really big reveal and rather that spin some elaborate web of lies i think chris just like straight up does the i can't tell you that bit, which makes him seem you know well like aloof kinda a little bit dickish). and then of course there's also like. like a lot of vulnerability involved in understanding who chris is he really doesn't have any middle layers nothing that sits between the surface mortal chris and the charmed chris with an inferiority complex it's either you know it all or you know. he just seems aloof. but again like. i think he's interesting. so much so that a lot of people are just kinda willing to look past that. so like. a lot of just external relationships. surface level. & then another defining trait of his on the positive side is clever. because like. he's smart. like i think he's a really skilled witch i think he's an excellent spellcaster and then like. i also think he can do math and stuff (in my fic he is a coder so like. yeah.) but i think it's kind of beyond just like Oh He's Smart i think it's the way he applies his brains applies his knowledge that really kind of sets him apart from the rest i think he really is clever. and then third positive i think chris is resourceful. i think like. i think he likes to have a sense of indepence away from his family because like. i mean he is a halliwell and he doesn’t shy away from that but at the same time he doesn’t really want to like. lean on that rest on well the thing is it’s not even his laurels to rest on. he wants to have this sense of independence and he’s actually p good at getting it. like i having him living on his own (so 2 speak, he has like. 4 roommates? i’m p sure) and yeah he’s not super great at it from just like. a living perspective you know but he’s making it i think like paying his own rent all that and yeah like the food he eats isn’t great and his room is kind of always a disaster but like. he’s made it p far i think a lot farther than people thought he could no disrespect. so i think he's really able to take what lifes gives him and make the most out of it i don't think he likes to coast by on others' accomplishments. which kinda segues into the second negative trait which i think you probably could guess he's overly-independent like independent to a fault. because like. i think he really wants to define himself with kinda comes in a two-fold way because like. okay in-family he wants to. okay so like obvi, there's a major drop off in power between him and wyatt. and i think he's always kinda been insecure about it think what on earth caused such a cosmic fuck up that he's just a telekinetic and then his brother is like. a baby god. so i think chris really feels this need to prove himself worth of a place in the warren line like cement his skills as and really say you know i deserve this title. and then flipside!! he really doesn't want to rely on titles you know he doesn't want respect because he's a charmed one or because he's a halliwell he wants respect off his own merits he wants people to know him by his actions not the legacy he carries. (also maybe gives reason for chris to occasionally use the name chris perry in the altered timeline??) and then. kind of building off that negative trait for his third one i'm saying listless because like. i think the crucial difference between the chris from the dark timeline and chris from the light timeline is like. darktl!chris has always had purpose. like yes it's a shitty purpose it's a burden it's too much to place on one boy but he is the last halliwell you know it's like basically all on him to stop wyatt from you know annihilating the world. (someone should probably tell him the cupitches exist in the dark future lmao) you know from like very very early on in his life darktl!chris has known he's destined for something big and honestly he might fail but he's gotta give it the ole college try because this is the world on his shoulders he's gotta put up a good fight for it. lighttl!chris literally does not have that. he does not have some grand, epic purpose, some monumental destiny to fulfill and like. what is he supposed to do, you know? why is he here? and he feels like he should have some epic destiny hmm well no not exactly he wants some epic destiny but he feels like if there were some epic destiny to be had it'd probably pass over him in favor for something better just like everything else in his life does. like why is he here? literally why is he here i mean okay so like disclaimer is that chris in my story is like. 20/21 and um. also a college dropout lmao haha and like. call a spade a spade we're probz looking at some undiagnosed depression here like give him a zoloft he'll be fine but like. chris feels like he's kinda on a raft in the middle of open ocean in a sense like. the best option is to pick a direction and paddle and hope he reaches land but he's literally in open ocean there are no markers no indicators he doesn't know where to go and like. if he picks wrong he's just heading closer and closer to nothing at all emptiness death whatever And There's No Way To Know Which Way Is Towards Land. and if he fucks up, like, he's screwed. shout out to all my early twenty-somethings. woot woot. but yeah. i think chris really wants a sense of purpose that simply put he does not have and honestly? will not be getting. i am not giving him a prophecy. i am not giving him a destiny. he will have to live with that. and, at this point in his life, i think he's doing a p bad job at that. lmao.

melinda!! baby girl. angel. honestly? i'm going to give her kind too because i think a large part of her just really wants to help people. i've previously called her the most-whitelightery of the next gen, & then also she is currently going to school with designs to become a nurse because like. she's also an empath you know and i think she definitely has aspirations to kind of mix her magical and mortal sides find a balance of both worlds and use her magic powers to enhance how she can better care for people in a mortal way. i'd also say she's really understanding. like, she's the third sibling to the wyatt-chris duo And she's an empath like. even if she doesn't get it, she gets it. like. things are complicated relationships are complicated like she can literally feel all sides of the story whenever there's a wyatt-chris-leo argument and like. what? is only one of them right? is only one of them allowed to feel the way they feel? no. she gets it. she all kinda understands where they're coming from. she understands. and then third positive trait she's really loving. like she's not a person who's stingy with her love (in a platonic sense. i think it a romantic sense it gets a lot more complicated because like. as an empath on the first date well it's just too weird man and it's. it's not like she can't keep her feelings sorted it's just like knowing exactly how they feel about her….. like it's weird. pass.) but i think she really like. i think she loves her family i think she loves her friends like. ❤. wow. on the more negative side i think she kind of like. self sacrificial. like she'll goes to the ends of the earth for the people she loves before she ever stops to think about herself. she doesn't. like she won't self advocate she won't draw a line in the sand when it comes to the ones she loves she fails to um. to see how sometimes her needs might actually be more important that others like. like if she loves you she will walk until her feet bleed. like. you have to be real careful because like. if you ask her to do something like she'll do it you can tack on that "but it's fine if no you don't have to" because if she feels your need to have this task done she'll do it. it's for love. but it's not good. (she will also extend this to non-loved ones again if she feels their need their like desperate need because at the end of the day she's a giver. hey kinda like the giving tree. i think she loves that book.) i also think she's just a shade naive and i kind of hesitate to use that word because like. i feel like it implies kind of a lack of worldly experience and like. melinda has seen a lot. but i think she like really does kind of see the world through rose colored glass i think she believes that people are intrinsically good and want to help each other and um. this can kinda tee her up for a lot of heartbreak and/or disillusionment with the world when kinda the reality is placed there right before her and it just kind of blows. i think it kind of hurts fresh every time. and then a third and final negative trait i think she like takes on too much, from an emotional standpoint, and doesn't really give anything back. kinda the same as self-sacrificial, but like with a twist. like, yes, as established, she has a lot of love in her heart, and she will take on her friend's emotional burdens (as well as any other burdens they might have for her) but then kinda gives nothing in return. she's a bit guarded in a sense. because again. this all comes back to the empath thing. kind of build on the dating thing. you really get live feedback on what exactly they think about you when you unpack, and like. melinda can't take that. she's too in her head on how this directly impacts their view of her and then she's just reading them and not focusing on her own problems you know like. like ladies if you've ever hit like. 1:30 in the morning at a slumber party when shit starts going from hehehe chetoh doost lasdkajldf to like. i don't think i could ever reasonably get married because divorce has really been the only constant in my life and i genuinely don't think i could trust another person enough to tie myself to them legally.? that's melinda's mcfuckin time to shine i think she does play therapist/peacemaker like a lot she likes it because again. she likes helping people! especially the people she loves!! but um. she'll never partake the other direction she really doesn't like getting vulnerable herself because like. you know if your friends are lying to you like you say something really personal and then cap it off with a y'know? and they all go yeah totally but you can feel them going what,,, the fuck. no?? like. like melinda could not take that it has not happened to her yet (probably) but she's come up with the hypothetical and she could not take that. this doesn't really extend to family just because she knows them so long like oh what chris thinks she's lame? okay. wyatt thinks she's overreacting? yeah i know what i've seen buddyboy. & then. for the record. neither or her brothers would never think she is lame or overreacting even If melinda is being lame or overreacting because they just like wouldn't they know her too well. but melinda's def the person who comes up with worst case hypotheticals in regards to her relationship/empathy powers like. all the time.

#i'm lying it's not actually 2.9k it's only 2889 but like. like. :| : )!!#charmed #next gen #charmed next generation #wyatt halliwell #chris halliwell #melinda halliwell #margaretsminiessays #💌

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phlebasphoenician · 3 years ago

Text

Fic Writer Review

Thank you so much for tagging me and inviting me to play, @silverutahraptor!

This is fairly long so I’m putting it under a cut.

1. How many fics on AO3?

99 as of today!

2. Total AO3 wordcount?

558,120.

Of that, 481,556 was in 2021.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Okay, this is a lot!

Naruto (88)

Original Work (4)

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling (4)

Mulan (1998) (1)

The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien (1)

The Lord of the Rings (Movies) (1)

Raya and the Last Dragon (2021) (1)

Sleeping Beauty (1959) (1)

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty - James Thurber (1)

Jurassic Park - All Media Types (1)

Aladdin (1992) (1)

Brave (2012) (1)

Frozen (Disney Movies) (1)

The Authority (1)

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) (1)

Beauty and the Beast (1991) (1)

Harvest Moon: Sunshine Islands (1)

Philip Marlowe - Raymond Chandler (1)

Harvest Moon: Island of Happiness (1)

Fruits Basket (Anime 2001) (1)

Pet Shop of Horrors (1)

Tangled (2010) (1)

The Little Mermaid (1989) (1)

ヒカルの碁 | Hikaru no Go (Anime & Manga) (1)

Fruits Basket (1)

Cinderella (1950) (1)

Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types (1)

Moana (2016) (1)

4. Top Five by Kudos?

Escape and Evade (Madara/Tobirama)

Silence is Golden (Tobirama/Izuna)

Caught and Captured (Madara/Tobirama)

Life Come to Life (Tobirama/Izuna)

Wild Wolves (Kakashi/Iruka)

5. Do you respond to comments, why/why not?

Oh, I always respond to comments, and usually within 24 to 48 hours! I love chatting with people about my stories and it often sparks new ideas or helps to conceptualise free floating world building/characterisation which is wonderful.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

That would be a tie breaker.

Either A World Well Lost (Harry Potter, surprise pairing) or Love Wears a Mask (Naruto, Danzou/Kagami). Both of them are tagged 'Dead Dove: Do Not Eat' for a reason.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Yes, I do!

The craziest one that I've ever written is The Secret Lives of Marilyn and Susan Short, an homage to The Secret Life of Walter Mitty by James Thurber as well as a commentary on the concept of the Mary Sue in fanfiction.

8. Have you received hate on a fic?

Yes.

I don't mind constructive criticism as a rule, but I've received comments and commentary that definitely crossed the line into rudeness, or that seemed intended to hurt and be destructive.

Some of them, especially on Escape and Evade, actually made me afraid to write about Mito or from her perspective for fear that I would get yelled at again. In several cases, I felt compelled to write long comments defending my authorial choices.

It probably didn't help that Escape and Evade was the first time that I'd written fanfiction in 15 years.

Needless to say, it was not an enjoyable experience for me.

9. Do you write smut?

Yes, I do!

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Thankfully, no. At least not that I'm aware of! I don't think I'm a popular enough author for that kind of thing to happen.

11. Ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

12. Ever co-written a fic before?

Hm, kind of?

People have thrown lines at me which I've spun into stories, and I've worked with the fantastic @kurakura0-0 on fiction and art collaborations!

On a less deliberate note, I also wrote Ariel for which the amazing @good-grievance wrote a sequel, and we published them as a single story because they made better sense that way. However we didn’t really set out to collaborate on it.

13. All time favourite ship?

I don't actually have one!

I'm a multi shipper and I don't really have an OTP in Naruto which is the fandom that I'm currently the most active in.

I couldn't choose amongst all of my fandom ships for a favourite either.

Instead, I offer my oldest ship, the ship that I've had since I was a wee little fan - Gambit/Rogue. My second oldest ship would be Charles/Erik. X-Men was my first fandom.

14. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

I only have three WIPs that I'm partway through publishing on AO3, and one of them is only a WIP because it ran into the new 75 tag limit and bounced! 🤣

It's actually complete, and the other two are actively being published. I’m committed to publishing a chapter a day on my main series.

All of my other WIPs (of which there are many) are just waiting their turn to be worked on. None of them fall into the category of being unable to be finished.

I only have one work that I've tagged 'Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued' and that's A Third Wish for Miranda, an original fiction work that would be about novel length if I ever finished it. I still like it quite a bit and I'd love to finish it, but I abandoned it because it ran into a plot hole that I had no idea how to fix. When I wrote it, I didn't have the skills to take it any further. Perhaps someday!

15. What are your writing strengths?

Oooh, I'm not sure! The ability to deconstruct my writing and troubleshoot it when I'm having issues, perhaps. Alternatively, world building.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Oh, too many to count!

My paragraphs are far often too short, my writing isn't as visceral or descriptive as it should be, my smut isn't hot enough or is too repetitive... there's lots of areas that I want to work on!

17. What are your thoughts of writing dialogue in other languages?

I wouldn't mind it, and I often include words in my writing that are from languages other than English. However, they need to be there for a reason and they must be penetrable to the reader.

I could see myself writing two characters speaking in a foreign language in front of a third character who isn't supposed to understand them for example.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter in 2005.

19. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Oh my, I don't think I could choose!

If I absolutely had to pick, I'd probably say To Tempt a Target simply because it was a story that was so hard to write, but also a story that I put so much of myself into.

Tagging, but only if you want to, no pressure ❤️: @longliveustherecklessandthebrave , @woofgang69 , @heyitswrenn , @hidendumbassvillage , @greyduckgreygoose , @emilx311 , @sqbr , and anyone else who wants to!

#tag game #i was tagged #fic writer review #Phlebas blogs her writing

7 notes · View notes

numberonemilkbread · 4 years ago

Text

Iwaoi Fic List (Part 3)

Last Updated: 3/12/23

This is the third part to my fic list! The “Other” category just consists of fics I wasn’t sure how to categorize or ones that I felt like didn’t fit into the other categories. Please tell me if you think any of them are miscategorized!

Now that the final arc of the manga has been released, the “Extended Canon” aspect only applies to where the anime currently stands. This section is basically any story that happens during high school.

Part 1 (AUs) | Part 2 (Post-Canon)

♡= Recommend

★♡= Highly Recommend

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

Extended Canon

★♡ The PDA Jar- Poteto

Friends to Lovers | Fluff and Humor | Rated T | 10k | 1/1

“What is that thing for?”

“I’m glad you asked, captain. This… is the Public Display of Affection jar. Or PDA jar for short.”

“Now whenever you do something that may hurt our children’s innocence, you’ll have to put money in the jar as a punishment."

♡ we could be the greatest team- anyadisee

Established Relationship | Fluff | Rated T | 6k | 1/1

Oikawa mock-gasps. “Makki! You should know that I was genuinely planning on talking about strategy! I just thought it would be polite to wait for Iwa-chan and Mattsun to get back. But since you brought the topic up”—Hanamaki opens his mouth to protest, but is ignored—“have I told you how amazing Iwa-chan is? Like, he’s just the best boyfriend ever.”

“Wow, I never would’ve guessed what with, you know, how much you’ve been talking about it,” Hanamaki deadpans.

Oikawa waves a hand airily. “Don’t be jealous that my boyfriend is so sweet and romantic.”

Now it’s Hanamaki’s turn to raise eyebrows. “Excuse me, but did you just indirectly drag Issei?"

[in which hanamaki and oikawa get competitive, matsukawa and iwaizumi are good boyfriends, and the rest of seijoh somehow get involved.]

♡ This gets annoying fast, Makki- Ink_stained_quills

Hanamaki Disease | Rated G | 2k | 1/1

Hanamaki disease: for an unknown amount of time, Hanamaki Takahiro must go “eyyyy” whenever someone locks eyes with their crush. Thus, of course, it’s going to be pretty damn awkward for Sejioh’s volleyball team.

Wingman Watari- SatyrSyd37

It begins as an accident. Watari never planned on setting up all the members of his volleyball team, but, for some reason, it turns out he's the perfect matchmaker.

(also known as the getting together stories of the ships listed in the tags)

Looks like it- Ivyfics (ivyfics)

It’s odd. He wants to beat Mattsun at this completely, which is dumb because when it comes to Tooru obviously Hajime is always going to come out on top.

He’s been liking the whole showing I know the most about Tooru aspect of this a little too much and it’s ignited his competitiveness

// Didn't know they were dating au.

it seems like you’re the only one for me- setosdarkness

Dorks in Love | Rated T | 5k | 1/1

Valentine's Day is approaching. Everybody's surprised to learn that Iwaizumi and Oikawa are, in fact, not actually dating.

"My home is wherever Iwa-chan is~ " "Stop plagiarizing from chick flicks, trashykawa." "How harsh! That line came from my heart!" "No wonder it sounded so gross."

[featuring: dense-tsundere!Iwaizumi, flirty-useless!Oikawa and everyone ships IwaOi and nothing hurts]

we know the game and we’re gonna play it- thelittlebirdthattoldyou

Hanamaki cut in, “If we win, you have to promise to lighten up on the loving around us.”

“No more footsie under the table at team dinners,” Matsukawa said.

“No more weirdly sexual trash talk when you play on different sides.” Watari said.

“No more grabbing Iwaizumi-senpai’s ass ‘for good luck’ before practice games.” That was Kunimi, who shrugged placidly when everyone turned to stare at him.

“No more making out shirtless in supply closets,” Yahaba finished.

Hanamaki makes a bet, Mastukawa waits for him to get the hint, Oikawa's clinginess is surpassed only by his competitiveness, and Iwaizumi just wants to get through the next day so he can kiss his boyfriend again.

A Win-Win Situation- emigmatic

Friends to Lovers | Implied/Referenced Homophobia | Rated T | 4k | 1/1

“We did it, idiot!” Iwaizumi corrected, but there was no bite in his voice and his smile only widened. Ecstasy is a powerful emotion, and Oikawa felt it bubbling up inside him as he stared at Iwaizumi’s face. Nothing made him happier than that smile, and without realizing it, he leaned closer so that their noses brushed. Hands bumped his shoulders, tipping him forward. Iwaizumi blinked. The team froze mid-cheer. Oikawa jerked back, his whole body tingling with adrenaline. Why? Because he had just kissed Iwaizumi Hajime.

Or, the one in which Oikawa finally admits that he's totally whipped for his best friend.

♡ What would you do (if I told you that I la, la, la, loved you?)- Frenchibi

Getting Together | PDA | Fluff | Friendship | Rated T | 3k | 1/1

5 IwaOi moments as seen by Hanamaki and Matsukawa ... +1 moment of revenge :'D

★♡ Dinner and a Movie- rikke

Fake/Pretend Relationship | Rated T | 11k | 1/1

As a good vice captain, Iwaizumi would do a lot for his volleyball club's success and general welfare, including, apparently, fake dating Oikawa.

♡ until the sky opens up- iwaoidk

He's not nervous.

No no no, Oikawa Tooru is not nervous. It's not in his vocabulary, it's just not something that he has the capability to admit to himself.

That's why, heart seeming to thud hard enough to shake even his knees, he's trying to convince himself that not wanting to walk away from the sight of his best friend taking a shower is a normal thing.

♡ cross my heart, open wide- acchikocchi

Rated T | 7k | 1/1

For a minute Hajime doesn't know what to say. Everything and nothing crowds his mind, leaving no room to think. That he's never tried this. That volleyball's over. That he's graduating in five months. That it would be really nice, at least once, to go on a date with a good-looking guy. Hajime goes on a date. It's not with Oikawa.

make sure you cross the line- loveclouds

With graduation just around the corner, Iwaizumi knows he has to gather the courage to really ask Oikawa out.

♡ If I Can’t Be Yours- emerald1963, latenights

"If Oikawa had to rate himself, he’d say he’s been doing incredibly well at this whole my-best-friend-I’m-in-love-with-is-leaving-me-for-a-girl-and-I’ll-never-be-happy-again thing."

Priorities- weirdmilk

‘I just -’ Oikawa begins, ‘it might be difficult to get married, sometimes, I think.’ He chews on his lip.

Iwaizumi makes a questioning noise.

‘Ah,’ Oikawa says, and then, in a rush, ‘if I didn't want a wife at all - what then? If I said that to you. If I told you I can’t see it. Like - the wedding dress. The bride. I just can’t see it.’

Iwaizumi swallows again, his heart beating much faster than the conversation warrants. He wonders whether Oikawa can hear it. ‘You’re eighteen. You aren’t supposed to see it yet.’ He snorts. ‘I mean - if we’re sharing shit, I’ve never even kissed a girl.’ He doesn’t mind admitting it. It’s not something that bothers him - he’s never prioritised girls very highly, and despite Oikawa’s largely undeserved status as Miyagi’s most eligible teenage bachelor, he doesn’t think Oikawa has ever wanted a serious relationship with any of his fan club, either.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi can't sleep before their first practice match with Karasuno.

Of Pick-Up Lines and Idiots in Love- Karumasa

Fluff | Pick-Up Lines | Rated T | 2k | 1/1

All these notes and pick-ups lines were seriously starting to piss Iwaizumi off.

Bad Pickup Lines All the Time- Crazy_Gaze

Fluff | Rated T | 2k | 1/1

He also meant homo, all the homo. No hetero.

“Do me,” Oikawa says absentmindedly. He hears a choked snort from Hanamaki and he jerks out of his reverie in a panic.

“I mea-WHAT. Who said that.” He flounders for an air of indignation like he wasn’t just blatantly staring at his best friend’s ass. Oikawa hears smothered laughter off to his right and it’s definitely Matuskawa.

Abies nordmanniana- Polastri

Pining | Christmas | Rated T | 5k | 1/1

Oikawa steals his hoodies every year just before winter starts, and this year it's too hard for Iwaizumi to pretend he doesn't like it.

sometimes distance is too much but sometimes all it takes is a train- clockworkmoon

Two can play at this game. If Oikawa was playing dirty like that, he would just ignore him whatsoever. No big deal. His mother peeked at him from above her book. "Trouble in paradise?" Hajime groaned and hurried to change into pajamas and go to sleep.

The next two days proved that ignoring Oikawa Tooru for more than twenty four hours was, in fact, a task impossible.

Hajime leaves for few days to attend a wedding, and Oikawa takes it worse than expected. In both comical and heart breaking way.

inalienable champs- animesukcs

Something is wrong with Kindaichi. For once, it's not Oikawa's fault.

it’s tradition- hicsvntdracones

Truth or Dare | Rated T | 5k | 1/1

It's tradition, it's tradition, they all say as they gather up the second and first years. The second years have a look of hard determination, while the first years are simply confused. Oikawa claps his hands together.

"Let's begin this year's annual training camp truth or dare!"

Kunimi tries to run.

♡ Right On Time- FindingSchmomo

Iwaizumi wonders, truly wonders, how it all came to this. How he finds himself armed with a dirty plunger, sleeves rolled up, apron loose, surrounded by his screaming teammates and ankle deep water.

He decides, like he always does, that it must be Oikawa Tooru’s fault.

♡ The Benefits of Patience- Moami

Humor | Fluff | Rated T | 3k | 1/1

Oikawa and Iwaizumi are a couple. There is no other explanation. They are together, they must be.

Or are they?

♡ Training Camp #Goals- roseknight

Fluff | Humor | Rated T | 4k | 1/1

During training camp, the Aobajousai regulars come up with an even worthier goal than sharpening their volleyball skills: they vow to finally get their stubborn captain and vice captain to admit their feelings for each other.

Concealer- SatyrSyd37

Iwaizumi isn't sure what to think when he finds out Oikawa has been wearing concealer. But he has a sneaking suspicion that he's not going to like the reason why he's wearing it in the first place.

♡ Oh Captain, My Captain- Karasuno Volleygays

Established Relationship | Flashbacks | Rated T | 3k | 1/1

“Iwa-chan?” “What now?” “Have you ever, you know, stuck up for me when I wasn’t around?” “Don’t be a dumbass.”

Second years Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime sit outside of the coach’s office, waiting to be called in one by one. The fact that they are separated makes Hajime uneasy. What has to be said that can’t be said in front of both of them?

Love in a Photograph (it’s all I’ve got)- Hyeyu

At the forefront of the picture, Oikawa himself was doing an adorable pose, left eye closed in a pseudo-wink as he waved cheekily at the camera. Somehow, the journalist seemed to have noticed Aobajousai's vice captain approaching his exuberant captain from the back, and included him in the shot.

A journalist comes to Aobajousai to interview the volleyball team for an article. One of the photos published with said article reveals something unexpected.

this could be us but you playin- meruemsthighs

Hajime and Oikawa's class are forced to perform the play Romeo and Juliet as punishment for not reading it like they were assigned to. Oikawa plays Romeo and Iwaizumi gets jealous that he's not Juliet.

♡ The Art of Silence- nightshade002

Getting Together | Rated G | 3k | 1/1

Iwaizumi knows right from the start that the bet is a bad idea. He can feel it. But does anyone listen to him? No. Does anyone else suffer from this bet? Also no.

(In which Hanamaki and Oikawa make a bet where Oikawa won't talk for 24 hours and Iwaizumi learns that maybe he knows Oikawa a bit better than he thought he did.)

Sensei & Senpai- leurauxe

Tutoring | Pining | Rating N/A | 10k | 7/7

“Well since you asked so sweetly and you know I’m a sucker for those puppy eyes, (eye-roll from Iwaizumi) I, Oikawa Tooru, shall rescue you from the dooms of a failing grade,”

Iwaizumi is hopeless at maths so Oikawa decides to tutor him. Bring forth the sexual tension and frustration

20/20- SportsAnimeRuinedMyLife (KnightOfRage)

Glasses | Fluff | Rated T | 2k | 1/1

"It starts when Oikawa tries to spike a ball and ends up colliding spectacularly with the net."

A Little Sweetness- orphan_account

When Oikawa opens the box, he can't help the way his nose scrunches up a little in disgust. It's tonkatsu curry with rice. He avoids curry like the plague - it makes his breath smell for the rest of the day. There are artfully cut up vegetables beside it, and several croquettes, but overall, the meal doesn't appeal much to Oikawa. Iwaizumi would love it, though.

Oikawa blinks. Where did that thought come from?

kiss me cause you can- Qitana

Kissing Booths | Rated T | 3k | 1/1

“What did you just say?” Iwaizumi asked, his eyes widening as the fear grew and turned cold and heavy in his chest.

“I just dared you,” Yahaba said offhandedly, like he was commenting on the weather, “to kiss Oikawa-san, Iwaizumi-san.”

♡ my only friend was the man in the moon (until I met you)- ohhotlamb

Fluff | Getting Together | Rated T | 7k | 1/1

In which Oikawa has a life-altering revelation, and Hajime is starting to think it involves him.

the best i’ve ever had- shizuoh

Matsukawa snorted. "Right. As if you haven't been in love with him your entire life."

"...What."

"Wait," Matsukawa mumbled, "did you seriously—not know?"

(after witnessing iwaizumi being confessed to, oikawa confides in matsukawa and hanamaki for help on his apparent lifetime crush. it's really gay.)

♡ Loves Me, Loves Me Not- UmbrellaMartialGod

Crushes | Rated T | 8k | 1/1

Oikawa shook the magic 8-ball with furious desperation. "Does Iwa-chan like me back?" he chanted at it as if he had done this many times before. He stared at the ball's window and waited for it to settle, holding his breath in painfully slow anticipation. >Ask again later.

♡ the finer points of balance- loveclouds

Fluff | Mutual Pining | Rated T | 5k | 1/1

Hanamaki proposes an ingenious way of combating Oikawa's shittiness: Iwaizumi should try being nice to him.

dear future you- bravely (commovente)

Fluff | Accidental Confessions | Rated G | 2k | 1/1

To Oikawa,

I know we were supposed to write this to our future selves five years from now, but I don’t really know what I wanna tell myself, so I’m writing to you instead.

Draft Saved (To Keep You Unfazed)- boy101

'Well I've fucking done it this time', Oikawa thinks as he stares at his phone. Half his thoughts are in denial and the other half is already planning his escape from the country.

nevermind (but i mind)- seabear

Angst | Friends to Lovers | Rated M | 9k | 1/1

Oikawa’s eyes glint as he lowers his voice, ducking in close as he says, “Telepathy.”

He groans. “For the last time--we do not have telepathy.”

“Well, maybe we would,” Oikawa points, circling his finger in the air, “if you’d practice with me.”

(Or, teenage boys who are in love but can't seem to get it together.)

♡ like we’re made of starlight- izayas

hajime doesn’t notice it at first: the stars in tooru’s eyes, the galaxies in his touch, the universe in his smile. and, most of all, that tooru’s always felt the same way.

(a look into iwaizumi hajime’s journey of falling in love with oikawa tooru, from when they’re babies meeting for the first time to young adults moving in together.)

put a light on- seabear

Pining | Canon Compliant | Rated T | 6k | 1/1

Oikawa Tooru has a lot on his proverbial plate right now--picking a university, the very real possibility of losing his best friend, the fact that he can’t grow a beard, etcetera.

So he really doesn’t have the time to be worrying about these reoccurring dreams where he keeps kissing said best friend. He really doesn’t.

♡ there’s a bull and a matador dueling in the sky- InfinityJay

Angst with a Happy Ending | Mutual Pining | Rated T | 21k | 3/3

“I have a date.”

A sharp pain pierces Oikawa’s heart. Yet, when he touches his chest, there’s nothing there. “Oh?” he says, because he’s sure that’s all he can say without his voice giving out.

Iwaizumi gets a girlfriend and Oikawa is totally, incredibly, and terrifically fucked in all the worst ways.

things that change, things that stay the same- Mysecretfanmoments

Getting Together | Mutual Pining | Rated M | 8k | 6/6

Oikawa realizes he's in love with his best friend; it sucks for a while. (But only a while.)

It’s Not Love, Probably- starlitcities

Fluff | Friends to Lovers | Rated T | 7k | 1/1

“No, I mean we really weren’t doing anything,” Oikawa whips around, “I haven’t even kissed her yet.”

Iwaizumi pushes the locker shut and looks down at his t-shirt, picking at a loose string dangling from the hem. If he tugs too hard, it’ll just ruin the stitching, so he decides to leave it alone. Right now he might rip the damn thing off.

“And I said it doesn’t matter. Why are you talkative all of the sudden?”

“Someone sounds annoyed,” Oikawa mumbles.

“No, I just…” Iwaizumi bites the inside of his cheek. Why is he annoyed? That Oikawa is talking about his girlfriend? That he saw them under the stairwell looking both guilty and flustered? That he might not know everything about his childhood best friend?

He can’t say yes to any of those questions. He can’t quite say no, either.

make a bet, keep a promise- raewrites

Sometimes, in still moments, Iwaizumi wonders why out of all the people on earth he ended up with Oikawa Tooru. Why it’s his face that lingers on his fading conscious in the last moments before he falls asleep, in the first blurry seconds upon waking up again. Why when he looks to his side, he expects Oikawa to be there in the same way he expects to see five fingers on both hands, a natural extension of himself, ever present.

Why he can’t imagine a future without Oikawa in it.

It begins with a bet made between the two boys in the mid-summer of their eighth year. It starts with volleyball, but like with most things involving Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime, things are never quite that simple.

♡ if i fell in love with you- iwaoidk

Pining | Angst | Rated G | 5k | 1/1

Oikawa nodded, eyes on the ceiling, lips loose in thought. "Mmm. Okay, Iwa-chan. I love you."

"I love you too," came the answer, smooth and easy like breathing.

And then they froze.

#Betrayal- FindingSchmomo

Snapchat | Betrayal | Rated G | 2k | 1/1

In an event Tooru Oikawa will later describe on his twitter as "Iwa-chan screenshotted my selfie #betrayal #i thought we were friends", Hajime Iwaizumi commits the ultimate snapchat sin and somehow gets himself a boyfriend in the process.

right now i’m completely defenseless- anyadisee

Fluff | Rated G | 3k | 1/1

Iwaizumi is just about to turn to the last page when he hears the snap of a shutter. He rolls his eyes; typical Oikawa to take selfies at the most random of times. He turns his head to tell Oikawa not to include him in the shot, when his gaze lands on the phone Oikawa is using.

“Oi!” Iwaizumi exclaims, tossing his magazine aside and lunging for the setter’s hand. “Give me my phone back!”

“Don’t want to, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa leaps out of the way and quickly scrambles up to his feet, running to the other side of the room while still taking a goddamn selfie. “You should be thankful! I’m improving your photo gallery by putting my handsome face in it.”

[in which oikawa messes with iwaizumi's phone, and it's Not Weird At All to have your best friend's face as your homescreen]

♡ The Great Photo Race- reginagalaxia

Rated T | 3k | 1/1

Oikawa realizes that he doesn't have a single terrible photo of Iwaizumi on his phone, and challenges the volleyball team to get the worst photo possible in a week.

wide awake- iwaoidk

Fluff | Rated G | 2k | 1/1

Oikawa can't sleep so he does the last thing he can think of to help him get some rest: call Iwa-chan at 3 am.

♡ By the Time You’re Eighteen- ricekrispyjoints

“I’m sure I could find someone who’d be willing to kiss you if you’re just looking for the experience,” Oikawa mentions, and Iwaizumi’s not sure if he’s being serious, and he’s even less sure why he feels inclined to take Oikawa up on the offer. “Tell you what,” Oikawa continues. “If you still haven’t been kissed by the time you’re, say, eighteen, /I’ll/ kiss you.” “In your dreams, asshole,” Iwaizumi groans. But he really does want to know what it’s like. He needs to find someone to kiss before he’s eighteen.

Or: Oikawa and Iwaizumi's adventures in dating, kissing, and birthday gifts.

★♡ It’s Tradition- MelissaWritesStuff

Fluff | Getting Together | Rated T | 3k | 1/1

Every year, without fail, on Oikawa's birthday, Oikawa has somehow gotten a kiss out of Iwaizumi.

♡ lips like sugar- ohhotlamb

First Kiss | Rated T | 8k | 1/1

Hajime is offered to learn the art of kissing from a true professional, one Oikawa Tooru. It's not as bad as he thought it would be.

♡ tenderly, in the evening time- ohhotlamb

Oikawa isn't the only one who finds Iwaizumi attractive anymore. He has trouble handling it, to say the least.

3.5 millimeters- varient

Established Relationship | First Dates | Rated T | 6k | 1/1

There are certain rules of relationships, Oikawa insists: you have to at least pretend to study before making out; the taller one is the big spoon; and a disastrous but adorable first date is a must.

But Iwaizumi maintains that all he can do is (a) pretend like his heart isn’t beating so hard it hurts, and (b) find as many opportune moments to kiss his boyfriend as possible.

There are, after all, no guides for how the hell you’re supposed to handle being in love with your best friend.

all I need- masi

Rated T | 3k | 1/1

In his childhood, Iwaizumi accidentally forms a friendship with a very annoying person.

as sure as breathing- erzi

Rated T | 3k | 1/1

“Hi, Iwa-chan,” he finds himself saying, his mouth muscles pulling themselves into that familiar way.

Iwaizumi frowns deeply. “Don't smile like that,” he says gruffly, walking in as Oikawa steps aside. “Not when you were clearly just really upset.”

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

Other

anesthetic truth- valiantarmor

Fluff | Rated G | 1k | 1/1

Iwaizumi wakes up after getting his appendix removed, and the anesthesia leads to an interesting conversation.

30 kisses- Sebastians_senpai

When Oikawa ends up in a coma due to a severe asthmatic episode and doesn't seem to be responsive after months, his deadline is cut to 30 days before they pull the plug.

Iwaizumi does the last thing he hopes will work, and gives Oikawa a kiss each day in his countdown.

Undercut- Ellessey

'There is so much Hajime wants to say about Oikawa’s hair, but Oikawa has his scary face on and, while Hajime is certainly not intimidated, he will be crafty about this at least.

“Alright, stop,” Hajime says, in English.

“What, Iwa?” Oikawa asks, voice heavy with exasperation.

“Collaborate and listen.”'

Oikawa gets a new haircut, and Hajime is a bit of an idiot before he gets around to being a good boyfriend.

kiss it better- raewrites

At an early age, Iwaizumi learns that kissing Oikawa's scrapes and bruises makes him feel better. At a later age, Iwaizumi remembers this.

♡ let me count the ways- whitemiists

Fluff | Established Relationship | Rated G | 4k | 1/1

“iwa-chan, how much do you love me?” “more than i can count on all of my fingers and toes.” “you wanna use mine?”

10 ways iwaizumi hajime has said i love you- daisugass

Growing Up | Slow Build | Rated G | 16k | 1/1

I love you's come in actions, not words.

How to Fully Enjoy the Perks of Being Iwa-chan's Boyfriend- afuzzyowl

Ten privileges of being Iwaizumi's boyfriend: a guide by Oikawa Tooru.

Number one: getting to grope Iwaizumi’s biceps whenever he wanted to.

“Mmmm, Iwa-chaaaan,” Oikawa moaned obscenely as he rubbed his face against Iwaizumi’s arms. “Your biceps are so buff, so manly, so hard, I just want to touch and lick and suck and bite them all day, oh god, look at the veins.”

“Oikawa, I’m trying to study.”

♡ then fall back together- seabear

The many kisses of Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tooru.

Stay With Me- peppermint_wind

Friends to Lovers | Growing Up | Rated T | 5k | 1/1

Since they were kids, Oikawa has always needed reassurance that Hajime would stay. It's not until they're older that Hajime realizes he never wants to leave.

Alternately titled: Three Times Oikawa Asks Hajime to Stay, and One Time He Doesn't Have To

Oikawa Tooru is Only Human- weirdmilk

Fluff | Love Confessions | Rated T | 4k | 1/1

During lunch, Oikawa puts his head down on the desk - without even smoothing his hair out beforehand - and looks so miserable that the urge to punch him lessens slightly. Iwaizumi asks, gruffly, ‘You okay?’

‘No,’ Oikawa moans, ‘I’m dying.’

‘You have a cold,’ Iwaizumi says through gritted teeth, feeling his own head beginning to throb with the kind of repressed rage that only Oikawa can inspire. ‘You’re a baby.’

Oikawa coughs sadly. ‘Dying,’ he moans again. ‘Eat my lunch for me, Iwa-chan; there’s no point in me eating anything now. I hear the swish of the scythe.’

Three times Oikawa's body failed him, and one time Iwaizumi's did.

★♡ when i get home- blessings

“Iwa-chan! Help, I’m in danger!” Oikawa wails into the phone.

Hajime turns another page in his math textbook.

“Hmm,” he says.

“Iwa-chan!” He can almost feel the ground shake from Oikawa stomping his foot next door. “There’s a spider!”

Hajime considers getting up, he really does.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa have always been each other’s first and most important phone call.

as long as i have you- orphan_account

Rated G | 2k | 1/1

Oikawa Tooru categorizes his life into three: the beginning, the middle, and the end.

told before and told again (oh, the tale is the same)- iwaoiks

Fluff | Mutual Pining | Rated G | 4k | 1/1

They fall in love slowly, gently, in a way so painfully obvious that the rest of the world can't help but stare - but so privately intimate it feels intrusive not to look away.

Or,

This is how Hajime and Tooru fall in love, through the accounts of those around them.

we loved like fools- Contr4st

Rated T | 653 | 1/1

He thinks of Oikawa with snotty noses and tear stained cheeks, and laughs at the fact that the brunette has always looked ugly when he cried.

sleeping habits- TripsH

Oikawa has developed a strange set of sleeping habits over time, all of which Iwaizumi has grown accustomed to being a part of.

Pillow- SuggestiveScribe

Fluff | Rated G | 1k | 1/1

Iwaizumi didn't get a lot of chances to stare unabashedly at his best friend, in fact he had to force himself away from the act often in order to save his own pride and embarrassment. But...

warmth- TripsH

Oikawa moves his head so they’re looking at each other. “I got up to turn up the heat because when I woke up it was freezing, but…”

“But?” Iwaizumi prompts when he trails off.

“Heater’s broken,” Oikawa says softly. “And no, I didn’t break it, so don’t blame me or kick me out of bed for something I didn’t do.”

★♡ Reach for the Stars (And Other Idioms)- airblends

A collection of idioms accompanying five scenes playing out between Oikawa and Iwaizumi over the course of their relationship. (Team Iwaoi's Main Round 2 entry for SASO 2017)

{Check out the illustrated book for this fic (link in the notes) because it’s absolutely adorable!}

15 Minutes- rightofpostponement

All Iwaizumi Hajime wanted to do was sleep on the 15 hour plane ride home (and maybe figure out how he really feels about his best friend). Unfortunately, his plane was hijacked by America's favorite family, the stars of "Goin' for one more!" the family famous for having 23 children, seven of which were under the age of 5 (is that even possible?). Doing what any rational person would do, Iwaizumi sucked it up (scowled maliciously) and bought ear plugs (while glaring), expecting the plane ride to be a special type of hell.

What he didn't expect was for his face to be captured by a stray camera and explode overnight (on Twitter, of course). Becoming an internet sensation/meme isn't easy (remember Alex from Target?), especially when random people start to take snapchats of him at volleyball practice (who is he, Oikawa?).

or,

Iwa-chan gets the 15 minutes of internet fame his face deserves.

Oikawa and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day- All_My_Characters_Are_Dead

Rated T | 2k | 1/1

Oikawa is used to people eyeing his boyfriend with appreciation, as they should, because Iwaizumi is amazing. Oikawa is not used to people openly flirting with and borderline propositioning his boyfriend during a volleyball match. Oikawa is not a fan of this development.

that’s what you get (for waking up in vegas)- skittidyne

Drunk Vegas Wedding | Rated T | 4k | 1/1

“There was an Elvis?” Hajime asks.

“He was the officiator. It’s the cliché, right?”

“…Officiator of what?” Tooru asks with a look down at Takahiro’s hand.

“You can borrow my phone to pull pictures from for our wedding album.” Issei reaches over and grasps the hand with the ring on it. Everyone is staring at their clasped hands like a three-headed lobster just crawled onto the table. “You were both the best men and I was very, deeply touched by how affected you both were at the ceremony,” he says in a perfect deadpan.

(( or: iwaizumi does not want to be the responsible one, and thus they suffer the consequences, or, perhaps, 'suffer' is a bit too strong of a word ))

♡ did we?- dollcewrites

Rated M | 2k | 1/1

Iwaizumi's head is throbbing in a dull, heavy sort of way, that makes him feel like he took a sledge hammer to the temple recently. That is his first thought upon waking. Secondly, he notices how warm he is, something weighing down his side. He opens his eyes, turns his head to the side, sees his best friend (naked) lying on his chest (naked), legs draped over his own, and his third thought is "What the fuck."

♡ Trouble with Texting- dgalerab

Chatfic | Mutual Pining | Rated T | 12k | 1/1

Iwaizumi goes online to deal with his unrequited crush on his best friend. He meets someone in a suspiciously similar situation, and things get... a little complicated.

★♡ Terrarium- sausaged

Friends to Lovers | Rated T | 11k | 1/1

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

we shine like diamonds- whitemiists

Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.

"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

i wanna ruin our friendship- roseknight

Oikawa can't pretend he doesn't know what he's feeling. He's far too accustomed to jealousy for that. But there's no reason to feel such intense jealousy towards two guys he doesn't even know, that he just happened to catch kissing.

No reason he can accept.

In which a single confession letter unravels Oikawa's control over his life and forces him to realize he wants something besides friendship from Iwaizumi.

Soultouch- Moami

Maybe Hajime’s just always adored him, in secret and silence, deep down in the bottom of his whole being. Maybe it’s always been like this and he just didn’t know.

And that's why he can’t touch Tooru anymore.

nine- sundowns

Post-Break Up | Fluff and Angst | Rated T | 8k | 1/1

It's Black Day, April 14th, and Oikawa meets his ex in a Korean restaurant.

♡ were you sad that day, you’ve watched 44 sunsets?- odetojoy

“I love you,” Oikawa whispers in his ear as they part, and usually Hajime would stop him from saying such things, but today is an exception and a sob escapes his lips before he can help it. He squeezes Oikawa tighter against him and tangles his fingers in his hair, kisses his cheek and closes his eyes.

#iwaoi #iwaoi fic rec #iwaoi fic list #oikawa tōru #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu!!

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