#but uh yeah the first part of the first answer certainly ties in nicely with the middle part of the last answer xD

[daughterofhecata]

for the writer's asks: 2, 3, 10, 19 <3

[ask game]

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

Well, I'm currently in the process of writing some Bob/Sax, and I'm actually really looking forward to some horny Sax description xD Other than that I'm really excited to write the Whumptober Day 18 fill (I'm doing them pretty strictly in order), because I have a *very* interesting idea for "Revenge / Unreliable Narrator / Loss of Identity" :)

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Hm, had to think about this for a while, because, uh. I usually just write directly what I want to write and then care about set-up and context later - if at all. But there certainly are a lot of bits and pieces rotting deep in documents that haven't been touched in years, and some of those scenes I would love to share, but it doesn't make sense to do it, because they would need a lot of build-up to hit emotionally the way they're supposed to.

10. How would you describe your writing process?

A very decent mix of order and chaos? I do try to sit down to write/edit every day, I can usually produce like at least 200 words a day, I'm extremely disciplined when it comes to prompt challenges (ie - keeping the word count I#ve set myself, filling all days even if inspiration is sparse, goign in order if I told myself that'd be what I'd do, etc). But I'm also drowing in WIPs, most of which will probably never be finished, my ADHD is the one deciding what I'll work on and most documents are a mess of unconnected scenes that I inevitably struggle to stitch together in the last steps.

19. Is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?)

"gelinde gesagt" & "unwillkürlich"... 🙈 Also I love describing people (esp hot older men), even though I'm not convinced I'm particularly good at it, and there is probably too much "character looking at something/someone" happening - the person holding our Creative Writing class even remarked on that after reading a text of just five pages 🙈 And my ao3 is overflowing with fic tagged "Dom/sub undertones" (or varietes of that tag) and/or "Age Difference". And I'm not going to be ashamed of that either 🤷‍♂️😄

[rinwellisathing]

You're Awful, I Love You: Part 18

Enver Gortash/Trans Male Tiefling Durge

Wysp was a popular man. He barely had time to himself. Certainly, Ffion had more customers and so did Sorn and Nym, but third most popular worker at Sharess' Caress still filled his day fully. He felt a bit guilty, as such, asking Mam'zell for a day off, but in the time he'd been here, blessed with good health by his goddess as he was, he had almost never taken one, so she was glad to allow it.

“Of course, my boy. Clear your head, take a break.” She shooed him away.

Wysp made his way out into the streets with a fine black silk cloak pulled low over his face. Malta padded next to him, always intent to keep an eye on his companion. A hastily written list was in Wysp's hand, places Sentry had vaguely mentioned in passing. The first was nearby, a book hawker outside Fraygo's Flophouse.

“Murder! Mystery! Tales of dread! I got 'em here!” The gruff halfling shouted to passers by, fresh stacks of cheaply printed short novellas piled around him in neatly tied bundles. “Read about Baldur's Gate's own vampire lords! Fictionalized here for your pleasure!”

“Sounds interesting. I'll have a copy.” Wysp smiled, producing some coins from his pocket. “I've some questions as well if you don't mind.”

“Not much of a literary connoisseur then, are you boy? All your answers can be found in the pages of books.” The halfling snorted.

“And you're sure some coin wouldn't buy the kind that can't be found there?” Wysp pressed.

The man paused a moment, trying not to seem too immediately enamored by the amount of money. “I see...and uh...what is it you want to know, lad?”

“There's a young Tiefling, late teens early twenties maybe, who buys books from you a couple times a week. What do you know about him?” The drow asked.

“Pretty thing but for that ugly scar on his face. Yeah I know him. Last name's Ojeda, his mum were some important paladin who died a few years back. Came into some money after her death, though. He started buying up a lot more books, maybe an inheritance?” The halfling thought a moment. “Got himself some servants too since then. A real tall woman, kind of scary with white hair. Then the little yappy guy in the hat, goblin I think.”

Wysp nodded. Of course when Sentry came to the brothel, he came alone. He hadn't been aware of these associates. “That's helpful, thank you.” He took his purchase and left. The information about Sentry's adoptive mother had been information Wysp was already vaguely familiar with, which led him to the next place on his list, the Temple of Ilmater.

“Brother Sentry, yes, I know him. He's such a nice boy, he was always such a help around the temple when he was a lad. Good hearted but there was so much pain behind his eyes. He never talked about it, but something terrible happened to him before Evagria brought him here.” The old priest shook his head, setting a cup of tea in front of Wysp before sitting down with his own cup and having a sip. Malta was lapping lazily at a saucer of milk beside the table. “Still, he understood our god's teachings better than most.”

“Did any birth family ever come looking for him? Did anything strange happen while he was here?” Wysp asked, stirring his tea absently.

“Well, there was a particularly gruesome murder....The day after Commander Ojeda passed away, five of our recruits were found mutilated in the cemetery. Sentry left the temple after the burial the day Evagria died, so he'd already been gone before it happened, but I suppose that's close enough to when he was here for it to count.” The priest seemed shaken remembering the incident, but his desire to help pushed him through.

“I see....Thank you, Father.” Wysp drained his cup and laid a pouch of coins on the table. “Consider this an offering.”

The next place on the list, Wysp steeled himself for. He had no idea where Sentry lived, that was true, but he had the name of Sentry's lover, and that was the true target of his investigation. Wysp aimed to prove that this man was dangerous, that he would only harm Sentry. He made his way down to the docks where he'd heard Gortash's gang operated.

Malta purred at the scent of fish in the air, green eyes gazing calculatingly at the various stalls selling the freshest catch of the day. Wysp had to urge the cat along every now and again as he made his way to the warehouse he'd heard the arms dealer operated from.

“Flymm's Cargo, hm? What are you hiding, Enver Gortash?” Wysp thought aloud as he walked the perimeter of the place, expression set in a thoughtful frown as he considered his way in. He looked around. No one seemed to pay much mind to the building and it was fairly quiet. Did he dare just...enter?

He quietly whistled a tune, a hollow knock sounding on the heavy door as a spectral lock seemed to shatter and it creaked open. Wysp cautiously stepped inside and began to look around. Crates of what looked like mechanical parts were stacked all through the place. Strange metals and arcane tools as well. None of that was of interest, Wysp was aware of those shady dealings. But one box of the strange metals caught his eye. The symbol on it marked it as shipped straight from the hells, from Avernus. He approached and opened it up.

As Wysp's hands shakily grasped a piece of paper he found inside and his eyes scanned the words, he felt a cold blade against the side of his neck.

“Well, shit.” Wysp smiled sadly. “Seems I'm caught.”

“Indeed you are, under elf, and unfortunately squarely on the boss' shitlist.” the woman behind him replied. “Any last words?”

“Why am I on your boss' shitlist?” Wysp rolled his eyes.

“First of all, here you are snooping around in his business, that'd be my guess. But also, he told us he's not interested in sharing what's his.” The woman responded, blade drawing a trickle of blood.

“What's his? I...” Wysp winced at the pain. “I see...then I was right...” He closed his eyes, biting his lip and hoping he could send his message before the blade sank in. 'Malta, run. Find Sentry. Keep him safe.'

The orange cat felt a pang of sorrow as his master's sending cut off. He ran. He ran as fast as his paws could carry him, hoping to catch Sentry's scent on the air.

Gortash found himself interrupted a second time, nearly ready to the throttle the next subordinate who did, only to find himself smiling as the red haired woman dressed in Banite garb, face hidden by a black half-mask held up the once handsome head of a drow.

“Good work, Varra, now dispose of him. I'd imagine my Dread Executioner will need some comfort when he finds out. I must think of a proper gift to take his mind off this little mishap.” He smirked, waving his underling away and closing his books for now.

[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée - Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader becomes rather possessive over Spencer when she learns he’s been been with someone else since they hooked up four months ago. Category: SMUT (18+) Content Warnings: Language, mutual masturbation, oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hand-on-neck (no choking), praise, degradation kink, possession kink, dirty talk Word Count: 7.1k (I didn’t mean for it to get this long I swear aldjfsdlfksk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 

MASTERLIST

NOTE: HERE IT IS!!! 🥰 Thank you all for showing so much love to Part 1, I seriously wasn’t expecting all the requests for more of the story, so it was fun coming up with ideas! I’m still not sure if I want to do 3 or 4 parts yet, but I’ll let you know soon! In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy reading this second installment! ❤

***

He's been a ghost in my head for four months.

Everywhere I went I could hear his voice, hear the way he whimpered out my name and how cries got higher and higher as I clenched around him. I felt the rough grip he held on my hips as I rode him, the pads of his fingertips leaving behind faint bruises that I currently wished I still had.

And more prominently, I saw his face. It was always in the back of my mind, burning into me with lust-drunk eyes and a pouty mouth in the shape of an O. It sizzled into my brain, the sound definitely sounding more like raindrops than fire, but I was more than okay with that.

Though, every time it rained, I couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same— if he stood outside or watched from the safety of wherever he was and replayed that moment over and over again until he was aching to be in my presence once more.

I also had to wonder if he knew about the ring I'd left in his front seat.

Did he leave it in his car, perhaps in the glovebox or on a string that he tied around his mirror? Or did it fall somewhere between the seats? Maybe he found it and did what I never could, pawning it off for some happily-accepted cash while he laughed at how careless I was to take a stranger's virginity and then leave my expensive diamond ring behind like a fool.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the means to find out.

It's not like I could have wandered up to the FBI building and ask to meet with a Dr. Spencer Reid... Right? Because that as absurd. I'd only met the guy once, and he'd probably think I was crazy for trying to track him down.

It was a whole ordeal that I'd mulled over again and again, and I ultimately decided that it was ridiculous.

If anything I was happy to be rid of the ring. I could move on with my life, and maybe Spencer sold it for money or he's held on to it as a souvenir for a special night.

Win-win.

It didn't dull the small ache I felt for him, though. Every once in a while I found myself remembering how great that night was... I hadn't felt that way—sexy, confident, fun—in a long time, and as much as it sucked that he was getting picked on by some drunk idiots at a bar, I was glad it led me to him.

Some nights, when I was missing him significantly more than usual, I even went back to Waterson's in the event that I'd run into him again, hopefully under better circumstances.

Tonight was one of those nights.

This time I didn't have a ring to keep most of the men from hitting on me, but now that I was well and truly over my ex-husband, I was glad I didn't use that as an excuse to keep the ring around anymore. As annoying and painful as the drunken flirting was, I was way better equipped to handle it and truthfully somewhat relieved that I could get back to normal.

You know, save for the fact that I was only at Waterson's in the first place to maybe see some guy I hooked up with four months ago and still haven't stopped thinking about...

Because that was totally a normal thing to do.

I was on my second beer of the night when I felt a presence behind me. And even though I was pretty sure than I'd be able to tell if it was really Spencer, a part of me still buzzed thinking of the prospect of seeing him here again.

I turned around though, and was met with an entirely different person. I tried not to look disappointed, but it must have shown because the man who'd caught my attention gave a small laugh.

"I'm sorry, are you expecting someone?"

I liked to think that I had a good read on most people, especially when it came to men in bars. This man was someone I looked at for a few seconds and immediately knew that he wasn't looking to make me uncomfortable. He had come over to flirt with me, no doubt, but the difference here was that where most men would have gone straight into it, this man genuinely looked like he was willing to haul ass if I really was waiting for someone and didn't want his company.

That alone made me willing to entertain him a little, even if I was disappointed that he wasn't who I desperately wanted him to be. But it certainly helped that he was attractive.

The first word that came to mind was smooth. Even as I laughed back at the man and answered him, my eyes did some wandering of his figure and admired what I saw. A crisp, tight grey tee shirt that hugged some rather nice muscles, and brown skin that was just a few shades lighter than his eyes, which were kind and a little playful. His smile was stunning, sharing that same playfulness that his eyes held as he practically sparkled to life at my answer.

"Oh, no, I'm not... But I certainly wasn't expecting you..."

I made sure to smile at him, a little smirk that complimented the admiring eyes I was offering him and a little laugh that never failed to get me what I wanted.

He gently leaned into the bar, one of his hands coming to rest of the cool wooden surface. "I'm Derek."

"Y/N."

"Pretty name."

I don't know what made me so bold, but I nodded and shot him a wink. "Not as pretty as you."

We shared another laugh, and then I took a swig of my beer, finishing the last of it and then sliding towards him. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"We just met and you're already stealing from me... That's my line."

"What can I say, I'm quick... Hey, Carla! Can I get two more for me and my friend here?"

The bartender—and my longtime friend—laughed a little, taking my empty bottle. "Sure thing."

The look she gave me right before turning away practically yelled, I thought your type was helpless skinny white guys who can barely look you in the eye without creaming themselves...

Yeah, well, you worked with what you were given. And besides, my type was practically anyone with just a shred of decency.

Real high bar, huh?

But after Patrick, I couldn't complain. Derek seemed like the type of guy who would flirt with you at any given chance, but respected your boundaries all the same. Unfortunately that was hard to find nowadays, especially in bars like Waterson's.

So, yeah, he wasn't the man I was naively wishing to see here tonight, but he was into me, he was decent from what I could tell, and he was hot.

So we had a drink and spent a good twenty minutes chatting it up. Since it was my third beer of the night, I was accumulating a pretty steady buzz, and the longer I talked with Derek the more I opened up a little. I found myself leaning into him and finding excuses to lightly touch his arm, but I kept noticing that he was glancing down at his watch occasionally.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked, playfully.

"Right, uh... Yeah, I was supposed to be meeting a friend here. He's usually early, but I think we got our times mixed up again..."

"Again, huh? You two aren't very good coordinators?"

Derek laughed, the sound making me feel all warm. "Well, for FBI agents you'd think we'd be better at it."

"O—Oh," I said, my heart stopping for a beat. Had I heard that right? Was I more tipsy than I thought? "FBI?"

"You seem stunned," he said with another laugh. "What, you're not a criminal, are you? Do I have to take you in?"

I laughed, albeit nervously, but decided that this all had to be pure coincidence. If I didn't, I would have gone insane. Even still, it was difficult for me to sit here and openly flirt with this man when I knew he just confessed to having the same profession as the literal man of my dreams— and as of late that also included daydreams.

In fact, I was positive that's what it was when I saw Spencer approach us— a daydream.

Derek was calling my name, I knew that much, but I couldn't do anything but look over his shoulder where Spencer's ghost practically froze in place when he spotted me.

"Y/N?"

That wasn't Derek's voice. Spencer's mouth moved in time with the calling of my name, and it even sounded like him. I blinked rapidly, hoping that I could snap out of it and excuse myself for the rest of the night, so I could go home and sleep it off.

But even when I finished blinking, expecting Spencer's figure to be gone, he was still there.

At this point Derek had turned around, and what he said next snapped me out of it pretty damn good.

"Reid? You know her?"

"You're real," I said, speaking for the first time in a while. My throat felt dry, and my heart came alive at the sight of him.

Spencer stared at me, his eyes softening after I spoke to him. I saw his lips twitch into a shy smile before his hand came up in an equally shy wave. "Y—Yeah, I'm real." What followed was a huffed laugh that cemented his nervousness at seeing me again for the first time in four months, and it was the most refreshing thing I'd heard in a while.

"Oh my God," I said, a smile of my own starting to creep up.

I'd completely forgotten about Derek being there until he spoke up, snapping us out of our reunion, his voice conveying every range of confusion.

"What the hell is this?"

***

I knew there was always a minor chance that I'd run into her again, but it still rendered me utterly still and practically useless when I spotted her across the bar with Derek.

She was just... there. After months of debating whether or not I should send her a letter with the ring mailed back or stopping by to see her, or even using Garcia's help to find where she might have been so I could 'surprise' running into her... It happened to chance that I didn't need any of that at all. Because she was really there.

And she was flirting with Derek.

I'd have been lying if I said that didn't really bother me, but truthfully I'd always felt a bit insecure around him, mostly when it came to being surrounded by women who were most likely fawning over him instead of me.

Not that I particularly wanted or even needed them to fawn over me in the first place... It was just... Telling.

And it's not like I knew or thought I wasn't at least somewhat attractive. But seeing the one and only woman who'd ever made me feel very good about all of that for probably the first time in my whole life openly flirting with my best friend? It stung. It felt like now that she'd seen me and him in the same place, she'd decide that she'd made a mistake before and that she'd be better off with someone else— someone who was stronger and more skilled and probably easier to look at.

Even when the three of us sat at a booth and Y/N decided to sit next to me, her proximity dizzying after all this time apart, the first thought that came to my mind was, She doesn't want to see me. She'd much rather sit across from Derek so she can look at him instead.

I was starting to think maybe I should have stuck to mailing her a letter...

"So... Are you gonna tell me how you two know each other?" Derek asked, leaning back and easily amused.

Y/N seemed to be amused by all of this, too, because she answered immediately, a tone in her voice that I'd only dreamed about for four months and nine days straight.

"Oh, we were engaged."

If I didn't know any better, I would have thought Derek's eyebrows were going to fly straight off his head. "Engaged? Like... Engaged?"

"I—It's not what you think," I jumped in, suddenly a little embarrassed. "Not really engaged, but... Y/N pretended to be my fiancée once... There were, um... There were these guys who wouldn't leave me alone and she came over and told them off."

I hoped he wouldn't piece it together, but it was inevitable, and the look of realization that crossed his features made me feel extra warm with embarrassment.

"Oh... Is she the reason why you actually said yes to that date last month?"

Y/N turned to me, an eyebrow raised. "A date? Because of me? I don't... I don't follow..."

I was going to explain, but Derek beat me to it.

"I've always tried to set Pretty Boy here up for a date, but he's always said no, and then out of the blue I ask him and he agrees. Which was a shock in its own. I knew something was up, something had to have given him the confidence to go on the date... And all along its been you, hasn't it?"

"Well, I... I don't know, I guess so?"

They both looked at me then, and I stared down at my hands, unwilling to look either of them in the eye. "Y—Yeah... I don't know, I guess Y/N just... helped me see something in myself I hadn't seen before."

I half expected them to think it was silly, but Y/N's hand dropped down onto my knee and I stared at it for a moment before flitting my eyes up to meet her gaze. It was soft, and a small smile grazed her pretty features.

"Oh, Spencer, I'm so glad I could do that for you... How was the date?"

"O—Oh, it... It was fine. Not... I'm not seeing her anymore, but it wasn't bad... Just, um... There wasn't much of a connection, that's all."

In simpler words, She wasn't you.

But I couldn't tell her that, not when she was staring at me again with those sparkling eyes and her hand burning a hole through my pants with her electrifying touch, and most certainly not with Derek sitting right in front of us.

"Hey, whether it worked out or not, whatever you did to get him out there, it must have been one hell of a job," he said as if he'd been reading my thoughts.

Y/N gave me a knowing look, though, and suddenly I was transported to my car, feeling her hand explore my body as she showered me with filthy words and names that set me alight and cemented something about myself that I'd never known. Since then I had dreams about her, telling me how much of a 'good little whore' I was for her, and I always woke up from those dreams clutching her ring around my finger.

"Well, like I said, I'm glad I could help. Your boy here is one in a million."

It was awkward. This was all very extremely awkward. And even though I knew that, I still couldn't bring myself to stop it. I couldn't bring myself to stop staring at Y/N, soaking her all up like she was going to leave again at any given second. I couldn't stop thinking about her, our predicament, what we did and what I discovered about myself back then...

God, I was talking like we hadn't seen each other in years. It was only four months and yet I was acting like she'd left me alone after years of being together. This was ridiculous, right?

Thankfully Derek's phone rang, snapping us all out of the bubble of silence we'd been in for what seemed like forever.

"Uh, I'm gonna... get this. Be back in a few."

I expected Y/N to drop whatever act it was she had going on with me after he left the table, but her hand remained firmly on my knee. And then she moved a little closer, turning to me completely and tilting her head with a smile that only meant mischief.

"So... Looks like we have some catching up to do..."

***

I was practically giddy when Derek excused himself for a "Garcia Emergency". Though, I was concerned until he assured us that it wasn't anything bad, and by the look on his face as he quickly talked things over With Spencer, I got the feeling he was expecting his friend to 'have some fun' tonight. And that's what truly made me giddy.

We sat close to each other again, a few drinks between us and only a few booths away from the one we sat in the first time we met. If it weren't for the rock missing from my finger, I would have been convinced we'd actually transported back to that exact moment.

"You getting Deja vu, Doctor?" I asked with a smile, watching as he swallowed.

"Y—Yeah, kinda. It's great seeing you again, I... I really didn't think I would."

I laughed. "You know where I live, and you're an FBI agent... I'm pretty sure you could have saw me again if you wanted to."

"Well... Yeah, but I didn't want to be creepy or anything..."

"Trust me... If you randomly showed up at my door, I'd be anything but creeped out. I missed you..."

Spencer looked up at me for a moment, his eyes shifting before he seemed to relax. "You... did?"

"Of course... I haven't stopped thinking about you since we met. And I hope that's not creepy," I added in a laugh.

"No, not at all," he reassured with a nervous laugh of his own. "Actually, um... I've been thinking about you a lot, too..."

"Even on your date?"

I'd only meant it as a little joke, maybe another conversation starter, but at the mention he seemed... embarrassed.

"Oh, no, that was... That wasn't really... I—I only really did it to get Derek off my back, it—"

I rested a hand on his arm and smiled gently. "Hey, it's alright... I didn't really mean anything by that, I'm just... I meant it before, I'm really glad you did it. I know you said it didn't really work out, but did you have some fun at least?"

He laughed again, but this time there was hardly any humor in it. "Well, she wasn't you..."

I smiled a bit, but immediately following his words was a wide-eyed terror and instant regret. "Oh, I didn't... I'm sorry, I—"

"So, you did think about me on your date, huh?"

He froze then, presumably at the low, seductive drawl I blanketed over my words. His mouth slightly hung open, tongue flittering behind teeth as he tried to find the right words.

I smiled at him, and then he settled on, "Yeah. I did."

"It's not very polite to think of other girls while you're on a date, you know..." I made sure to let him know I was only teasing, and that I just wanted to know what his reaction would be.

Still, he surprised me when he said, "It's not my fault you're impossible to forget..."

He flashed me a smile then, and my stomach twisted deliciously at the little dash of confidence he'd grown in the past minute.

Maybe I could bring more out of him...

"Okay, fair... But it is your fault that you didn't come find me."

"Also fair... But... You're here now..."

Spencer inched closer to me, and I smiled, taking my bottom lip gently between my teeth before leaning in, too. "How about that..."

Our lips brushed for a second, so gentle it was like being tickled by a feather, and then he spoke again, his breath hot on my mouth. "I've... dreamt about seeing you again for so long now... Kissing you..."

"Me, too," I responded, bringing a hand down to graze the inside of his thigh. "Guess it's a good thing I'm a firm believer that dreams come true."

"Yeah," is all he said before he finally took the initiative to finally kiss me.

I sighed, melting into his touch and tightening the grip I had on his leg. Meanwhile his hands rested at my forearms, fingers dancing experimentally over my skin and making me tingle in their wake. And once I parted my lips, he took his shot and gently brought his tongue out to meet mine in a collision that quite frankly made me throb.

He'd been a decent kisser before, but... It's obvious he's had a little practice since then. Not that I'd have minded either way, but damn if this newfound experience didn't give me the most sinful idea.

I felt him whine as I pulled away, and that made everything even better.

"You wanna get out of here?" I said in the cheesiest way possible. But he didn't seem to mind.

In fact, he nodded rapidly and took a quick drink of his beer before following me out of the booth and towards the door.

***

Leading Spencer up and through the doorway of my house was probably the most electrifying 'date' experience I've had... well, ever. I'd been excited to sleep with people, sure, but with Spencer I found something greater. I wasn't entirely sure what that was, yet, but it was definitely good.

He reiterated that thought nicely once the door was closed and his hands were on my face, bringing my mouth to his again while I dropped by keys and haphazardly threw my phone and wallet on the side-table next to us in favor of gripping his shirt.

Just through his kisses I could tell how much he'd longed for this moment. I know he told me, and I'd certainly understood the feeling, but when it came down to actually acting it out in the flesh, I was much more in favor of that method of communication.

I gladly accepted his wordless confessions, through every groan and gentle graze of his tongue that he offered to me. And in return I gave him sharp tugs of his shirt and hair, conveying my urgency and the need to be closer to him.

When my legs started moving, his did, too, and we reluctantly pulled apart in favor of not tripping up the hard wooden staircase on the way to my bedroom. Though, I was thankful he was in just as much of a rush as I was, because otherwise I probably would have gotten embarrassed.

And that didn't happen easily.

I fumbled for the light switch once the door shut and our mouths connected once again, and I could have sworn it was like something out of a trashy TV show. The thought almost made me laugh, but I held it in in favor of moaning when Spencer lowered his hands to my ass and squeezed, pulling us closer together. I finally hit the light switch and then flow both of my arms to wrap around his neck and draw him even closer.

He was everywhere all at once, and it fueled me. I'd come to miss physical human interaction, but I hadn't realized how badly I craved it until he was right there, taking up all of my personal space and aiding me in creating this perfect recipe of frantic, glorious electricity.

It was going to kill me, and I would have gladly let it.

I experimentally rolled my hips forward and felt him gasp into me, and it wasn't long before he started growing hard.

Good... Now I could set the plan in motion.

"Remember what you told me?" I asked breathlessly before our heads switched sides and leaned in for more kisses.

In between them, he returned, "When?"

"The first time we met..." I trailed my lips down the column of his throat as I continued. "When you said you edged yourself..."

"O—Oh... Yeah, I remember."

"Mmm," I hummed, sucking a mark into his neck for the time being. As I did it, the grip he held on my ass tightened a bit, and I laughed lightly over his skin, slowly licking my way up to his ear. "I wanna see..."

The trembling he provided under my influence was a good sign. And then another came when he whispered. "Y—You want to see... me? Touching myself?"

"Mhmm..." I planted kisses all along his jaw before pulling back to look him in the eye, making sure he knew I was serious when I told him, "But only if that's okay with you."

He didn't even take a second to think, nodding rapidly once more and giving me a flash of a smile. "It's okay."

I hummed happily, leaning forward to give him one huge kiss, long and hard, before pulling away from him completely and nodding towards the bed. "Clothes off..."

Our hands got to work as soon as the words left my mouth.

And it wasn't until my shirt was on the ground and Spencer's eyes remained glued to my chest with trembling hands that I realized, even though we'd slept together before, our clothes had never actually come off. Tonight we were completely baring ourselves to each other, and that was somehow more intimate than the idea of taking his virginity was.

I reached out and grabbed his shirt, gently assisting him in removing it, and it must have snapped him out of wherever he'd gotten trapped because he shook his head and let out a nervous laugh, averting his eyes from me and staring at the ground.

"S–Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for," I reassured, throwing his shirt to the ground next to mine and bringing his hands to rest on my bare stomach, slowly sliding them up. "I like when you look at me..."

His eyes reached mine once again, breath hitching as I guided his hands to cup my breasts over the bra. "Well, I... I like looking at you."

I kissed him again, hoping to bring forth some familiarity to our current routine, and it worked like a charm. Our movements were slow and steady, each article of clothing joining the floor one by one until we were down to nothing but my underwear.

I led him to the bed then, breaking us apart and making him sit. Now that I was taller than him, I gripped his chin in my hand and tilted his head up to look at me.

"Lay back for me?"

He scooted further along the bed until finally he leaned back, his head resting nicely on my pillows. I climbed up after him, kneeling at his feet and bringing a hand down trace lines along the inside of his thigh. Meanwhile I looked him up and down, finally getting a decent look at his full, bare form.

"Ohh, so pretty... And I bet you're even prettier when you're touching yourself... You wanna start?"

He reached out for his dick in answer, wrapping a delicate hand around it and slowly stroking up and down as he looked up at me with the stars in his eyes. "Like this?"

"However you normally do it, baby. Just relax. Make yourself feel good..."

After a slight nod, his hand picked up a little speed. He swiped his thumb over the tip to gather some precum for lubrication, but as hot as that was, I had a better idea.

"Here, let me help," I offered with a smile, leaning down and bracing my hands on his knees. I let spit gather on the end of my tongue before allowing it to drip down and land right on the tip of his cock. The sound he let out, broken and dripping with want, sent a jolt of electricity through my blood, only amplified by how wet he sounded once he started moving his hand again.

I let my eyes roam all over, taking in every heave of his chest, the veins in his arm and hand as he worked himself, the soft fluttering of his eyes as he lost himself in the moment... At the risk of sounding absolutely cheesy, it truly was a magical sight. I felt entirely lucky that I got to see him again at all, and now like this, bare and vulnerable and exuding lust while I was left to my own devices.

All that to say, I hadn't realized I was touching myself as well, until a whimper came from my mouth, my clit gently throbbing with stimulation at the hands of... well, my hand.

Upon seeing me, Spencer let out a whine of his own, picking up speed with his hand and throwing his head back onto the pillow.

"Y/N..."

He wasn't addressing me, wasn't asking me anything at all... My name on his lips was more of a declaration, like some type of chant, a string of letters and syllables formed specifically to bring him closer to the edge he knew he'd have to resist falling from.

"You getting there, baby?"

"U—Uh huh..."

"You better hold it," I drawled lowly, bringing myself into the more strict persona I wanted to bring out tonight, given that's still something he was into. "Just like you promised."

After a few more hard strokes of his hand, Spencer leg to quickly, bringing his hand to rest on his chest as his mouth let out the most delicious whines and grunts of determination to keep it all in. Without the stimulation, I noticed his dick slightly twitching over his stomach, glistening and  hard...

Fuck, if it wasn't the hottest fucking thing I'd ever experienced with my own eyes and ears...

I pulled my hand out of my underwear, too, still a little shocked that I hadn't realized before that I was doing it to myself and a little turned on at the fact that it had that big of an effect on him.

"I—I would have been able to go longer, but... But you were there, and you were... And I only ever have you in my head, not right in front of me..."

It was obvious that he was probably afraid he'd let me down somehow, and that was definitely not the case. So I leaned down and dragged my hands over his lower stomach, feeling inch of skin while my mouth came down to press featherlight kisses to the base of his dick. "Spence, that was hot as fuck... You really think of me when you do that?"

"Mhm," is all he offered, currently reveling in the way my tongue darted out to explore the lines of his cock.

"I think of you, too," I admitted, pausing to press a kiss to the underside of his tip. "When I touch myself... I think about how pretty you were the first time I called you a slut... Tell me, baby, you still like that?"

"God, Y/N, yes..."

I sucked gently on his tip now, watching as he watched me, his bottom lip occupied between his teeth and his eyes on the brink of closing.

He was getting close again. So I stopped, pulling off of him with a soft pop and smiling as I crawled up his body and planted a kiss to his cheek. My legs straddled his hips, and I got close to his ear.

"Tell me, what about this... other girl you went on a date with... Did you sleep with her?"

"Um... Y—yes..."

"I'm willing to bet she didn't make you feel half as good as I do..."

"She didn't..."

I smiled against his jaw, bringing one of my hands to stroke his hair. "Was she mean to you? Did she make you her dirty little whore?"

I could feel him let out a trembling breath as he answered, "No."

"That's right," I said softly, right before switching gears and tugging on his hair, pulling back to look in his eyes. "Because you're my dirty little whore."

His cock twitched along my ass at my words, and it made me smile. But before I could speak again, he did it first.

"I'm all yours, Y/N... No one else's..."

I couldn't help it then. His words, our position, the needy look in his eyes as he confessed this to me... All of it was enough to make me snap.

So I leaned in and kissed him, hard. My hands tangled in his hair while his flew to my waist, sliding down to play with the hem of my underwear as his tongue slipped into my mouth and against my own with ease. I swallowed each whine with the greatest pleasure, my hips involuntarily grinding down and spreading the evidence of my arousal along the fabric of my panties. I wondered then if he could feel how wet I was, how much I wanted him.

I didn't have to wonder for long though, because he slipped one of his hands around front and dipped into said fabric, finding how wet I was and groaning into my mouth at the feel of it.

"You've been dying to get another try at this pussy, haven't you?" I whispered into his mouth.

Unsurprisingly, I was met with a whine in return. "Uh huh... I missed you so much..."

I ground down into his hand, nipping at his lips a little before giving my next demand.

"Then prove it."

Rather than fingering me like I expected him to, Spencer rolled over and straddled my legs, tearing my panties down and leaving me with a smile.

"I love the confidence you've grown, baby boy... Proves how dedicated you are... to being the best little slut you can be."

"Yes, Y/N," he responded, leaning down and kissing the inside of my thigh. "I wanna be good for you... Let me show you, please..."

"Show me..."

His tongue came in contact with my pussy, and it immediately sent my head flying back into the pillows, a low whine escaping my throat. He flicked it over my clit expertly a few times before going down and licking a broad strip up the entire area. Vibrations flittered along his path through his groans, and just hearing how much he enjoyed it had me clenching the sheets for stability.

"Ohh, what a good boy," I praised, bringing one of my hands to stroke his hair back. "Who's my good little whore?"

He grumbled into me, but I tugged at his hair.

"Say it."

He pulled away briefly then, still in contact with my pussy as he breathed out, "I'm your good little whore..." And then he promptly got back to work, devouring me with a hungry precision that made me laugh.

"Needy, too, I see... So desperate for that cunt..."

"Yes, " I heard him mumble into me. He repeated it a few more times, chanting it as his tongue flicked through me and tasted every last drop of my impending orgasm.

I sat up a little and held his head to me, his tongue moving at a quicker, more relentless pace. My stomach started to twist and my legs clenched, holding Spencer firmly between my legs as my hips rolled forward and met his every movement. Moans fell sweetly off my lips with every second, getting higher and higher until I finally held myself still and let the high take over. His tongue drew out one of the sharpest orgasms I'd ever had, the fervor he delivered making me see stars for a solid twenty to thirty seconds before it finally subsided and my muscles started to relax.

"Fuck," I breathed, almost whining when he removed his mouth from me and just kneeled there, studying my form as I tried to catch my breath. "Get up here," I asked more than demanded, though it might have been hard to tell what with my head spinning.

Spencer climbed over my body and I pulled his face down into a warm, wet kiss that had me tasting myself and growing wet again at the taste. I pulled away then, looking into his eyes and playing with his hair.

"I can't believe you didn't come see me sooner... Depriving me of that pretty fucking mouth..."

He kissed me again briefly, whining into my mouth before I continued. "But no... You were busy going on dates..."

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said, kissing my cheek softly, over and over as his lips made their way down to my neck. "I'm so sorry, I... I wanted to see you, I just..."

"I know, I know," I cooed, closing my eyes and relishing in the feel of his lips on my skin. "But tonight you're gonna make up for lost time, got it?"

"Yes... Yes, I'll do whatever you want..."

I hummed, bringing his head back up to meet his gaze, and my thumb stroked over his bottom lip. "I want you to put that pretty cock to good use and fuck me like the desperate little slut I know you are..."

I kissed him then, gasping out once he shifted his hips and entered me slowly— I knew he was going to get to it quickly, but I guess I'd underestimated his need to please me.

The sentiment had me curling with want, more of it coming when he bottomed out inside me and trembled. Really, I could feel him shaking as he started to pull out and then back in, setting a steady pace that would surely become more erratic once I started talking to him again.

"Shit..." Spencer cursed, shifting up on his arms for more leverage as he steadily drilled into me. "I m—missed this... Missed you..."

"I know, baby, I know... I missed you, too... And you know what else?"

I drifted one of my hands down in between us, spreading out my fingers so that his cock fit nicely between them as he fucked me. The added friction of my fingers had him whining out, dropping his head down so that his ear was right by my mouth.

I whispered. "So did my pussy... So you better fuck her good..."

The sudden brutal velocity in which he slammed his hips against mine felt like a strike of lightning, and the loud groan he let out against my neck was the thunder. Everything shifted then, Spencer lifting himself up and holding onto my legs as he drilled into me at full force, his body glistening with exertion and my own succumbing to his wind.

"Yeah, that's it," I cooed through a laugh of pure pride. "That's a good fucking whore... Giving me that cock like I own it..."

"Y—You... do," he stuttered through a broken whine. He was getting close again, and I knew just the thing to do the trick.

I reached my hand up to hold his neck, not applying any pressure, but just holding as I forced his eyes down to look at me. "That's right... That slutty cock is mine... Now give it to me..."

The end of my sentence was punctuated with a sharp cry out as another orgasm tore through me. I shouted Spencer's name into the abyss as He fucked me through it and started twitching inside me, signaling his end as well. And the added warmth from his cum as it coated my insides well and truly marked me as his, despite the words we'd just exchanged.

I belonged to him just as much as he did to me, and I wondered if he knew that. If he knew just how much he inhabited my every thought.

I wanted him to know that I was practically infatuated with him.

But that conversation could wait until after we were... settled down.

He was still inside me as he slumped forward, laying his head on my chest and rubbing lines into my forearm.

"You okay?" I asked gently, combing through his hair with my fingers.

"Most definitely... Just... tired."

I smiled, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "You're welcome to stay here for the night..."

He was silent for a long while, almost so long that I thought he'd actually fallen asleep. But then he said, "Right here? With you?" and my heart soared.

"Of course."

Truthfully, I'd have let him stay forever.

But when I opened my eyes the next morning, the other side of the bed was cold, and his body was nowhere to be found.

***

Dear Y/N,

I'm sorry for leaving you alone last week. I know you must be a little hurt and confused, but if you aren't, then just forget I ever said anything.

Nonetheless, I regretted leaving you behind last time without at the very least sending you a letter, so I hope this one finds you well. After all, you have shown me experiences I never could have imagined enjoying as much as I did, so I should thank you for that.

But that's not all that this letter is for.

I also want to invite you out to dinner some time. I know this might be a little unconventional, but given how we met and also how we reunited, I figured this would be a fun, romantic way to ask you out. I understand if you don't feel that way given that I've more or less abandoned you twice now, but I promise it was all for good reason.

If you'd like to talk more, about anything I've disclosed in this letter, I've attached my phone number below, otherwise I'd love to hear back from you. I know this sounds strange, but I've been dying to know what your handwriting looks like. I bet it's pretty, like you.

Once again, I am truly sorry for leaving you behind without a word, but I want a chance to make it up to you. Please say you'll reach out. Otherwise, I know where to find you if you'd rather I make some cheesy romantic comedy—esque gesture of affection that either makes you fall in love with me or hate me.

Yours, Spencer Reid

***

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[crysalita]

Left Behind

Bo Sinclair x Reader

Word Count: 2439

Warnings: Suicide mentioned when Bo is telling the story about Trudy.

I had to admit that I never actually wanted to be here, on a road trip that is, but somehow I had managed to find myself getting an invite from Carly, who claimed there needed to be more girls. I reluctantly agreed to tag along, and so far I was regretting that poorly made decision.

I was a third wheel as I lagged behind Carly and Wade. I felt as if all I had done so far since we arrived in this town was either roll my eyes or sigh at their constant flirting. If I had of known that this is what my day was going to consist of then I would have said no in a heartbeat.

The small town we had arrived in gave me strange vibes, whether it was because the town was oddly empty even though we could hear chatter, or whether it was because of the two men that we had come across.

Bo, the man that works at the gas station, spent most of the time eyeing me down after the run in at the church, I didn’t know how to feel about it.

“So, Y/n. What did you think about Bo? He seems to have taken quite an interest in you.” Carly teased, nudging my shoulder.

We were in the gas station looking for whatever part that Wade needed.

“Don’t be stupid, he was just being friendly.” I scowled.

“Coming from a guys perspective, he definitely finds you hot.” Wade spoke up.

I sent him a glare. “Just look for that part.”

“He’s got everything, but a 15 inch. I’ll just have to use a 16 inch.” Wade grabbed a hold of the strap that he needed, but we were startled when we heard another voice.

“Are you planning on stealing that?” When I turned around, I was met with Bo leaning against the door frame, still in his suit and tie. I had to admit that the suit did look good on him.

“No, we just didn’t know how much longer you were gonna be, and you know, we didn’t wanna interrupt again.” Wade rushed out. “But I left you some money on the counter, but you don’t even really have the right size. You don’t have any 15 inches.”

“I do at the house.” Bo replied, not looking in the slightest bit like he was convinced by Wade’s constant stuttering, I couldn’t blame him though, Wade made us look more suspicious than we actually were.

“Look, I hope you’re not getting the wrong idea that we’re in here.” Carly attempted to ease the tension.

“Yeah, we already feel bad enough after interrupting the first time, we just didn’t want to do it again.” I smiled politely. In return, Bo sent me one of his own smiles and gestured for us to come out of the shed.

“No worries. That was in the past. We can move on from that.” Bo replied as he held the door open for us.

“You keep fan belts at your house?” Wade asked.

“I get things delivered there when I’m not here. Look, if you want to hold onto the 16, that’s fine by me.” Bo was looking more agitated by the minute.

“No, it’s okay.”

Bo led us outside of the gas station and we began our journey to the house that Bo lived at. My legs were already tired enough as it was from all the walking we had done, and I honestly wasn’t trying to do anymore.

“So, is it too late to sign Carly up for that beauty pageant?” Wade asked with a smirk on his face.

“Now unfortunately it is, well at least for you-” Bo turned and nodded in my direction. “-Because you have won, hands down.” I blushed slightly at his comment but shook it off quickly as I looked away.

“Thank you.” I mumbled. My gaze landed on Carly who was giving me a smug smile to which I rolled my eyes at.

“That house of Wax is pretty cool.” Wade changed the subject. This caught Bo’s attention.

“You went inside?”

“Yeah, it was unlocked.”

“I did try to tell them they shouldn’t, but they both happen to be very stubborn.” I didn’t dare step foot into the House of Wax. Knowing myself I would probably end up ruining the art in there, and I would never forgive myself if I destroyed someone’s art that they, more than likely, spent hours trying to create. I did manage to get quick look inside when Carly and Wade entered, and it truly was amazing.

“Everything seems to be unlocked ‘round here, don’t it? Thank you for having respect.” I was rewarded with another one of his smiles that really did compliment his face, although he did use quite an odd choice of words as it made him seem all the creepier.

I shared a look between the other two, who were also very creeped out.

“I did get a look inside though, when they opened the door that is, and the wax sculptures are amazing.” I complimented. I was a bit bummed out that I couldn’t see the artwork up close to see their full detail, but my conscious got to the best of me and now I was glad that I didn’t go in.

“Yeah, people used to come and see it from miles away. Trudy was the main artist.” I could imagine the amount of people that I wanted to see it, but for some reason there wasn’t any.

“What about Vincent?” Carly questioned. “I saw his name on a lot of the work.”

“One of Trudy’s boys.”

“That family must be very talented. Are any of them still around? I would love to meet them, and maybe they could help me out with some of my own art.” I commented.

“Oh- no. It’s a horrible story. Trudy’s husband, Doctor Sinclair, he was a doctor. He got his licence revoked for doing surgery’s on the side, you know, stuff that most doctors wouldn’t do. So, he moved him and Trudy out here to Ambrose, made a fresh start in medical practise and Trudy found her calm with the whole wax sculpture thing.” Bo explained as we walked past the House of Wax. “It was her dream to do something incredible here. Then she had a couple of kids-”

“What’s so horrible about that?”

“Trudy got a cyst in her brain, she just started rottin’ away.” My eyes widened as Bo continued the story. It was really starting to take a dark turn. “Couldn’t work no more, she went crazy, and it got so bad, that Doctor Sinclair had to strap her up to the bed. The whole town could hear her screaming from the house. And Doctor Sinclair was so depressed that he couldn’t save her he-” Bo creates a gun with his fingers and pretends to shoot himself in the head. “Blew his head right off.”

“That’s horrible.” I mumbled.

By now we were approaching the last house on the road, meaning this was where Bo was staying. The sky was getting darker and darker by the minute, making the situation all the more terrifying.

“Hey, uh, why don’t you three hop in, and I’ll go get that fanbelt for ya’” Bo opened the door to his car and gestured for us to hop in.

“No, we actually have some friends picking us up where the roads washed out.” Carly interrupted.

“I’ll give ya’ a lift there. It’s the least I could do then for making ya’ll wait.” Carly and I both turned to Wade who was nodding his head.

“Could I use the toilet?” I asked Bo as Carly hopped into the car.

“Yeah, of course. You said you need to use the can too, didn’t ya?” Bo faced Wade. He then proceeded to ask Carly the same question before he led us into his house.

The house was nothing less than what I expected, not that I expected much. To no surprise, it was quite messy, but I couldn’t hold that against Bo, as he most likely wasn’t expecting guests.

“So, where ya’ headed too anyway?”

“Uh, where just headed to a football game.” Wade answered.

“Bathrooms just down the hall. Let me get out of this jacket and tie, and I’ll get the fanbelt. I have another bathroom upstairs for ya’ to use.” I followed Bo up the stairs as Wade walked down the hall. I began feeling nervous as now I was left alone. “You interested in football?” Bo cocked his head to the side as he looked at me. I found myself staring a little longer than I should have, which Bo took notice of too, as his lips twitched up into a sly smirk.

“No, not really. Just here for Carly.” Bo nodded his head along with what I was saying before he popped another question, a very unexpected question.

“I take it ya’ single than?”

“What makes you think that?” I stammered.

“Well, considering those two are tied to the hip, that would most likely mean that if ya’ were seeing someone, then they’d be 'ere too.” Bo explained as he shrugged off his jacket. “And if it were me, I wouldn’t let ya’ out of my sight. Especially in a town I’ve never been in.” Bo opened a door that revealed to be the second bathroom he owned. I walked in and closed the door and instantly let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding.

This man was making me feel all kinds of things, and I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

I did my business and exited the bathroom to see Bo waiting outside, this time he was dressed in casual clothing, and no longer rocked a suit and tie. I had to admit that this man could certainly pull off both looks.

“Did you need help getting anything? I don’t mind helping.” I offered.

“That would be nice, thank you.” I followed behind Bo, who led us into the garage that was covered in tools and what I could only assume was car parts.

“Is it always this quiet in town?” I watched as Bo gathered some things and placed them in crate he had. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, so I waited where he had placed down the crate.

“Depends on the day, I guess. Sometimes it can be noisy, believe or not, and some days it’s dead silent. Today just so happens to be one of those days.” Bo mumbled.

All of a sudden the lights were cut off and everything went pitch black. I immediately put my arms out to reach for something to grab a hold of. “Bo?” I held my hand out in the direction of where Bo was last stood. “Bo? Where are you?” I felt his hand come in contact with my own.

“I’m right here, sweets.” I was thankful the lights were off so Bo couldn’t see the blush spread out across my burning face. “I don’t know what happened.” The sound of metal hitting the ground echoed throughout the garage, and then I heard the sound of the horn from outside.

“They must be waiting for us.” I muttered to no one in particular. The lights then turned on and I found myself extremely close to Bo as his chest was almost plastered to my back. “Sorry about that. That was childish.” I apologised I pulled myself away from Bo.

“Nothing to be sorry for. Ya’ get a little scared of the dark, nothing to be ashamed of.” Bo picked up the crate of tools. “I’m going to take this stuff out to the truck. Would you mind finding the wrench for me? It should be in one of the drawers over there.” Bo nodded his head in the direction of where the cupboard filled with drawers were before he exited the garage.

Everything felt scarier now that I was alone and everything around me was silent. I could hear my own breathing with how silent it was, and I hated it.

I searched through the different drawers before I found the wrench that I was looking for.

I began hearing shouting from outside and I quickly made my way outside, only to find the truck driving away and Bo standing outside, the tools scattered across the ground. “Bo, what happened?” I slowly approached Bo who was seething with anger, that was until he turned around to me. His face relaxed as he locked eyes with my own.

“Your little friends just decided to drive off with my truck. I guess they forgot that there was a third one with them.” My mood dulled at his words. How could they just leave me like that? “Hey, don’t let them get ya’ down. You don’t need 'em. Especially after the way they’ve acted today.” That didn’t change the fact that someone that I considered to be my best friend, had just left me behind to run off with her boyfriend, did I ever really mean anything to her. “Listen, I have another truck at the station, if ya’ like, we could walk down tomorrow morning and I could drive ya’ where you need to go.”

“That’d be great. Thanks.” Bo walked back inside, forgetting about the tools that were lying all around.

“You can sleep on the couch for tonight. I’ll get ya’ some blankets to keep ya’ warm. Did ya’ want something to eat?” Bo yelled out as he walked up the stairs.

“I’m good.” I called back. I sat down on the couch and stared off into nothing, this day was going horrible. I sighed as I placed my head into my hands and tiredly rubbed my eyes.

“Hey, ya’ know. I’d love to see ya’ some more. I wasn’t lying when I said ya’ were pretty. Definitely caught my eye.” Bo placed down the blankets on the end of the couch as he sat down beside me.

I found myself blushing for what felt like the millionth time today. “Really? I’d like to see you more too.” I whispered, looking everywhere but the man beside me.

Bo placed his finger on my chin and guided me to look in his direction. “Look at me when ya’ speak. I want to see ya’.”

Before I knew it, we had spent what felt like hours talking on that couch before I eventually got tired and fell asleep, and that was definitely the only good part about my day, getting to talk to Bo.

[binniesthighs]

❆on a winter’s day | reader x hyunjin |❆

Pairing: self insert, female reader x hwang hyunjin

Genre: the fluffiest smut

Tags: confident!reader, shy!hyunjin, extrovert!reader, introvert!hyunjin, virgin!hyunjin, dancer!reader, dancer!hyunjin minho and jisung side characters, minsung if you turn your head upside down, slow burn, that sweet sweet build up, first time, meet cute, college au, sexual tension, mentions of food, praising, oral (m&f recieving), marking, fingering (f recieving), protected sex, aftercare, hyunjin is the softest boi in this one

Word count: 4.3k

Requested: By a lovely anon! You can read the original ask/post right before this one! 

“and five, six, seven, eight!”

The cool of the hardwood flooring beneath your tired heels squeaked from the movement of twenty dancers throwing their bodies to the left. Each and every one of you were reflected in the mirror in front of you: bodies twisting like the curl of a ribbon and arms outstretched. You winced as your knee hit the ground and you hurled your body into a type of somersault. As soon as you were back on your feet, you bent your spine backwards reaching out as far behind you as you could. For a couple moments, the whole world was turned upside down.

It was then when you saw him. His silver hair was tied up, and his brow glistened with sweat. There was nothing else in his eyes other than pure focus.

It was breathtaking.

one, two, you counted in your head.

Next came the hardest part.    

Everyone leapt in sync, creating a resonating thud once you all landed.

Thank God that you landed it that time. To your right, your friend Minho scoffed slightly, likely teasing you for finally jumping at the same time as everyone else.

three, four

The group crashed down to the floor again, this time you had to use all your strength to roll, then pull yourself up without help from your hands. You had been practicing it for weeks.

You could feel Minho’s eyes boring into you while you attempted.  

You were able to do it, but it wasn’t nearly as fluid as him. How had you never noticed how amazingly his body flowed?

“and five, six!” Your instructor clapped. The music faded as you all sunk down to the floor again, trying to make it appear as if you were dissipating into it. “Very good job everyone!” She beamed and applauded you all who finally let your heaving breaths be heard. “Excellent improvement from you all!”

You couldn’t even stand up from the floor you were so exhausted. The aggressive florescent lights burned your eyes and you considered taking a nap right there.

“You did it!” A foot kicked you. Looming over you were your two friends Minho and Jisung shoving towels onto each other’s faces. “Were you counting like I told you to do?” Minho expectantly leaned in.

“yes,” You answered a little annoyed, not as much at him, but at yourself. You could have done even better.

“We told you that you could do it. It’s just the mental block man.” Jisung offered you a hand up.

Once you were vertical again, a little wave of dizziness hit you.

“Wanna go out to celebrate?”

Your usual friend group circled around you with their bags in hand.

“Finally got it this time, L/n?” They patted you on the back. Besides hip-hop being your specialty in a contemporary class, you still seemed to get along with everyone easily. On the first day of class when you literally announced that you didn’t want to be there, everyone warmed up to you pretty quickly. You didn’t want to lie and pretend that you were all about throwing your body around like that. Of course you thought contemporary was beautiful, just not your thing. Graduation requirements said otherwise.

“Do you need me to carry you outta here?” Jisung joked at your dazed expression. Truthfully, your head was still spinning a little.

“Only very certain people get to carry me Han Jisung, and unfortunately you are not one of them.” You quipped back, and a few of your friends snarked chuckles at him.

He put his hands up in defeat. “I was just offering.”

Across the room, your eyes found him again. He had put his bag a bit of ways away from everyone else’s. He guzzled down his water, bobbing his sharp Adam’s apple. He then tore his hair tie out and ruffled his hair around which was damp at the roots. Everything that he did was so effortless.

“Hey,” you nudged Minho, “You know who he is?”

“Him? That’s Hwang Hyunjin. I dunno much about him, he’s pretty quiet, I haven’t heard much about him within the school either. Amazing dancer though. Have you seen him?”

“Yeah...”

Hyunjin pulled a black pullover past his head.

“You coming with us?” Minho snapped you back.

“No-uh, I think that I’m gonna stay a little while.”

“Suit yourself, I know that it’s gonna be delicious.” He teased and turned to throw his arm around Jisung while the group walked out.

The silvery-haired boy zipped up his bag as if he was near leaving. Your throat became unexplainably tight. Your legs started moving towards him before you could tell them to.

“You popped up behind him. “Hyunjin, right?”

He whipped around startled, with his gorgeous brown eyes widening. “...yes?”

“I wanted to tell you that I saw you dancing today and you’re really good. It looks like its so easy for you. I wish that I could be like that.”

“Oh...thank you.” He gave you a kind smile.

shit, he was so cute.

“Soooo, what’s your secret?” You attempted to keep him there for just a moment longer.

“My secret?” His eyes became puzzled.

“Yeah, like, to how you’ve gotten so good?”

“I just...practice.”

“Huh...”

The door to the practice room clicked one last time and the two of you were alone.

“I noticed that all of your moves flow really nicely to the next, you’re not stiff at all, it’s like your body never stops evolving with the motions.”

“thank you...” Hyunjin hushed shyly and twiddled with his hair.

“Maybe you could teach me? Teach me how to make my technique better? I’m just so robotic sometimes.”

“...sure.” He hesitantly said with a growing tiny grin. “Like right now?”

“Oh! I mean it doesn’t have to be right now right now, just like when you have some time I was thinking.”

“I have a little time right now.” He began taking off his coat which he had just put on.

“Oh really?” You felt your cheeks get a little warm. You certainly weren’t expecting him to say yes so quickly.

“Do-do you have time?” He worriedly asked.

“--Yeah!”

“Okay...let’s get started then.”

✦✧✦✧

The music from Hyunjin’s phone echoed over the speakers and you attempted the twirls again. You were able to execute the timing, but each one felt more inelastic than the last. God, your whole body was aching to stop, but it couldn’t get enough of the feeling of him watching you and observing your every movement.

“What should I change about it this time?” You struggled to take in breaths.

Hyunjin looked you up and down, with that same focus from before. With someone as picturesque as him, he looked a little stern when he examined you, which scared you a little, but excited you at the same time.

“You need to take the strain out of your hips, they’re geting in the way you need to let you whole body fall into it. Focus on your legs. Like this:”

He spun in front of you with his leg pointed out. With the twist of his body his silver hair swept along with him.

“You know what I mean?” He gently asked.

“--yes, I think so.”

“Your hips are your anchor, but don’t let them stop you.” Hyunjin stepped up closer to you, hesitantly going to grab your waist with his hands. It was then when you realized how big and powerful they were. His sudden gesture made your heart beat even faster than it already was.

“Pivot like...this.” He turned you a little to the left.

“Oh.”

He lead your hips into the pivot a couple more times to show you. His hands were so warm.

He quickly removed his hands, embarrassed, like he had been doing something he should not have been. He walked away from you and you took notice of his shoulder blades curving under the thin fabric of his sleeveless shirt.

“Do you wanna stop now? I think I’ve done as much as I can for today.”

He nodded and removed his phone from the sound system.

✦✧✦✧

Outside of the arts building, snow had picked back up again after flurrying the whole night long. Everything around had been covered in a beautiful blanket of white.

“Well, I’m headed off this way.” You head nodded to your bus station a couple blocks down. “Thank you for helping me by the way.”

“For sure! I...liked helping you out.”

“Really?”

Hyunjin immediately made a startled little face upon realizing what he had said and you laughed a little at him.

He pulled his chunky scarf up higher to his chin. “Actually...I um, live down that way too.”

“Do you take the 12 bus too?”

He nodded. Little snowflakes had begun to get caught in his hair like a little halo.

“Well then let’s get going! We don’t wanna miss the last bus!”

✦✧✦✧

It was rush hour, so naturally the two of you had to stand on the bus of packed people. The air inside was chilly and it smelled of old dusty coats that had just recently been taken out for the fist snow. You thought it was a little funny how every five seconds or so someone would sniffle in there.

“I’ve seen you in class too.” Hyunjin finally said something after a while of you two being pushed pretty close next to eachother. “Dancing and other stuff, everyone really seems to like you, you’re really good at making people laugh.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You didn’t quite know how to respond to him. “I don’t really have a problem putting myself out there much, I’ve always really believed in just being me, you know? And not letting others determine who I am around them. That or maybe I just like the sound of my own voice.”

He giggled a little then pulled the string nearby the window.

stop requested.  The robot bus voice said.

“You’re not stalking me or anything are you?” You rose an eyebrow at him, which scared him more that you had expected.

“No..? What do you mean?”

“This is my stop too.”

Your boots crunched into the snow of the side walk and you thanked the bus driver. Hyunjin got off after you with his hands in his pockets. The two of you stood there in the snow for a moment, something weirdly unsaid lingering between the two of you. Something felt unfinished but you couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He genuinely was so sweet, you sneakily wanted to be around him for just a little longer.

Hyunjin stammered, but confidently got out, “Do you want to get something to eat? Right now?”

It was if he had read your mind. You were glad that he had asked, and a little surprised too. He waited attentively for you to answer, still looking a little nervous; even looking like that he was terribly adorable.

“I’d love to.” You smiled back at him causing him to sigh in relief.

“Is there anywhere that you like?” He led the both of you on.

You pondered for a moment, then remembered. You cringed out the words, “Actually...I really shouldn’t be spending money right now; I need to get a lot better at saving...”

You almost slapped yourself in the face after saying such a thing and seeing how crestfallen he had become. It was true, but technically he didn’t need to know that.

“Or! I mean, we could go to my place and I could I dunno, whip something up? I should have something...”

“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to be eating away your food.”

“No really! It’s fine, come on, I’m just down this block.”

✦✧✦✧

It was only seconds before you opened the door to your apartment that you remembered how embarrassingly messy it was. You and your two roommates were the best of friends, but horribly matched when it came to being cleanly. The three of you just chalked it up to you all being “creative minds.” You all went to arts school after all.

“Just...don’t look--sorry, it’s really messy in there, I wasn’t really expecting to bring anyone over.”

“I don’t care.” Hyunjin politely said and watched you unlock the door.

“We just call it creative madness.”

When you walked in even you tried hard to not look at the mess and got straight to work rummaging around your cabinets.

“Does spaghetti with sauce sound good?”

He nodded and neatly arranged his coat, shoes and bag at the door.

He wandered over to the large windows of your living area. “You have a really nice view.”

“Ah thanks,” You clicked on the stove. “Makes the price of the rent worth it,” you lowered your voice “fuckin’ swindlers.”

Your eyes wandered to the island in your kitchen full of all kinds of crap: baking supplies, art supplies, old mail, textbooks, mismatched pairs of gloves.

“It would probably be best if we ate in my room,” You let up. “You can barely sit here.”

Hyunjin nodded and turned to keep watching the snow peacefully. While you cooked, he didn’t say much but you couldn’t keep his eyes off of him, nearly burning yourself on the saucepan. He changed the room by just merely exisiting in it. You truly couldn’t imagine how you had never noticed him before.

✦✧✦✧

“Thank you for cooking for me, that was really good.”

You waved his compliment off with the swipe of your hand. “It’s really nothing, you should see my roommate, she’s a culinary science major. Wait! Let me go get something real quick.”

You smiled at your little surprise and shuffled back to the kitchen, putting the two little raspberry and chocolate cupcakes on plates with equally little forks.

“Ta-da! These are to die for. I wish I could take the credit; these are just one of the benefits of having a roommate that’s constantly experimenting.”

Hyunjin took in a careful bite and his eyes widened into moons.

“I know right!? She’s a genius.”

Silence filled the air between you as you ate more. You couldn’t help but feel so completely and utterly cozy in the moment. The sun had nearly set and you had set your heater up in your room along with some Christmas music to softly play in the background. The only regret that you had was the candle you had lit which was just a little too sweet. You started to wonder after you two had finished, what would happen next? Would he leave? Greedily, a feeling seeped into you like before, you still didn’t want him to leave.

“That was amazing.” He placed his plate down.

“You know what?” Your brash confidence pushing through once more. “Your hair, the silver, it’s just so pretty. I can’t stop looking at it.”

He instantly became flustered. “Oh...thank you, I’ve been thinking about dying it like this for a really long time now and I finally did it. It sounds kinda dumb, but I didn’t wanna do anything that would draw attention to myself.”

“...can I touch it?”

Hyunjin looked a little shocked, but eagerly nodded.

You started by thumbing through some of the longer strands towards his shoulders: it was just as soft as you imagined. You then started from the top running your hand all the way down, admiring the way that it looked like it shimmered a little. You had gotten so caught up in him that you didn’t notice that he had closed his eyes.

“pretty.” You cooed.

“Y/n?” He suddenly asked.

“Hmm?”

“Is it weird to say that I feel like really comfortable around you? Is that weird?”

“No, not at all.” You continued running your hands through the silver strands, somehow you had leaned in a lot closer to him than you had been before.

He looked at you with his doe-like brown eyes. You could have sworn that they were glistening. Your eyes fell a little lower to his lips, they looked wonderfully kissable and plump. From that moment your brain furiously wondered what they tasted like. His eyes fell a little too.

He leaned in first, catching you completely off guard. He kissed you so carefully and gently, his mouth parted just slightly; it was heavenly. You could still taste the chocolate and the raspberry on his lips. He sighed a little into your mouth like he was relaxing himself. In many ways, the way in which he kissed you made you feel like he cared for nothing else in the world, just you. Your cupped his face in your hands, tracing your thumbs against his jawline.

That was it. You were absolutely crazy for him.

You broke for a moment and he turned into a huge, rosy, smiling mess. The two of you giddily giggled at how happy you were over what had just happened. You shuffled your own plate off the bed to silently invite him to lay down which he did obediently. Now he seemed less hesitant, but more excited.

You swung your legs around both sides of him and kissed him more on his smiling lips. At this point, you had convinced yourself that nothing in this world was sweet as him. His hands found their way to your back, where he ran his fingers down, making you shiver delightfully at the touch. His hands finally found your waist which he grabbed onto firmly. He pulled you down into him so your bodies were flush and you could feel all of his warmth. Once you were this close, he started kissing you back more wantonly, gasping a little in between.

“You’re so beautiful Hyunjinnie.” You snuck in between kisses. “I can’t get enough of you.”

He let an airy laugh fall into your lips then brought one of his hands to tangle in you hair. All at once, your hands yearned to explore the soft of his skin everywhere. Outside your window the snow still silently fell and the golden sunset faded into the skyline’s horizon.

You knew how excited you had become, where together your hips grinded together. Your head spun thinking about having someone as beautiful as him give your body attention.

Hyunjin broke, holding your eyes seriously. “I-I want to make you feel good. Can I do that?”

“Of course, I would love that.” You melted.

“--But...I think you’ll have to tell me how...I haven’t done this before, sorry..”

The fact that he had shared this with you made him even more adorable.

“Don’t apologize, I can show you everything.” You whispered into his ear with a prideful grin. “But first, can I first help you?”

He gulped, “Yes.”

“I want to show you that you’re worth the attention, you’re worth all of it.”

You helped him pull off his sweater, and then his sleeveless shirt revealing his toned and pale chest, just waiting for your lips. You didn’t want to move too fast however, or risk scaring him.

“Just relax okay?”

You planted kisses everywhere you could: on his collarbones, his stomach and on his ribs, right over his heart. Even from the simplest of touches from you he seemed to unravel.

“You’re breathtaking.” You said onto his skin.

You couldn’t stop yourself from sucking a little harder than you planned, drawing little purple marks against his milky-white skin. He looked like pure art.

“Can I go down a little further?”

“Mmhmm.” He got out, with eyes closed shut trying to control himself.

You slipped his joggers down, revealing his quivering member, which was enticingly long even hidden by his briefs. He had already stained them a little with pre cum.

“oh my god.” you whispered, enamored. You couldn’t wait a single second further.

He timidly watched as you completely striped him, then tore off our own shirt and pants to make it a little more even.

“Tell me stop if you want me to, okay?”

He pleaded with desperate eyes, “Don’t stop.”

First you teased him just a little by running your tongue flat up and down and around his length, wetting your tongue with one hand and slowly pumping. You moved on to then twist around the head which had grown painfully hard. His breaths wavered and he let out little moans in desperation. You took him in at last, bobbing your head steadily.

“ mmm, that feels so good.” Hyunjin moaned out breathlessly.

You kept on, but not for too much longer, you didn’t want him finishing quite yet. He looked a little dejected when you stopped, but you swooped up to kiss him more. You took up his left hand and kissed him all the way up to his wrist and into his palm. His fingertips brushed over your lips, as gentle as one would with a flower petal.

“You want to touch me now?”

“--Yes.”

You unclipped your bra for him and laid back. For this he didn’t need any instruction. He immediately took your breast in his hand, squeezing and and ghosting his fingertips over your nipples; you reveled under his touch. He lowered to suck lightly on the bud, pulling at it lightly with his lips. His teeth grazed you slightly but you didn’t care, you fucking loved it.

“That feels amazing.” You whispered as you watched him. He was sure to give both of your nipples attention.

“I want you.” You said with hot breath. “I want your tongue.”  

He looked a little bewildered, but determined after what you had said. He slid down your body, giving you kisses the whole way down like you had done to him.

He nibbled a bit on your thighs. “Tell me how you like it.”

By the second his confidence grew more and more and it was addicting.

You started by rubbing yourself a little so he knew where to start. “In circles, you can go fast or slow, I like both, and you can suck on it too if you’d like.

He lowered, and you swung one of you legs over his shoulder which he palmed into. He started painfully slow, kitten licking carefully; he didn’t know it, but he was teasing the hell out of you. Nevertheless, you whole body began to shake a little with each lick.

“Flatten your tongue out...like that, you can go a little faster, yes...just like that.”

He had closed his eyes and settled into a rhythm, and you dug your heels into the bed. It was astonishing how quickly he got the hang of it. You whimpered out while he continued.

“fuck, Hyunjin--”

He sped up a little, your first orgasm was close by.

“Your fingers, like this.” You held up your pointer and middle together to show him. “Fuck me like that.

He did as he was told, sliding them in with ease over how wet you had become. His fingers were long and slender; addictive. He pumped in and out while your pussy made ungodly sounds. You felt so close you were lightheaded.

“Curl your fingers up, like this.” You showed him again. He continued going fast, taking a hint from your quickened breaths.

You came with white heat, clawing at the comforter on the bed. You only gave yourself a few more moments before pulling him up towards you. “I want you inside me.”

You scrambled with the drawer of your nightstand to rip a condom off from the strand that you kept, tearing it open for him. He was a little flustered, but put it on quickly; he was dripping even more for you. Your lips connected as you laid down, and he aligned himself on top of you. It was then when you saw how pink his chest had flushed. You opened your folds for him, and he started to guide himself in. He filled you up perfectly, and he groaned out once the two of you were connected.

“it’s so tight.” He shivered.

Your fingers latched on to the skin of his hips as you guided him lightly up and down. He buried his face into your shoulder as little euphoric moans slipped past his lips. After a moment, he was able to find his pace, grazing you deep inside. You let him take control as he thrust into you, leaving your arms to wrap around his broad back. You pulled his face over to kiss him, the both of you loosing yourself in the other.

“You make me feel, so, so good, baby,” You hushed into his ear.

He panted, “I-I’m gonna cum soon.”

It took all your strength to flip him off of you, and to land in his lap. He groaned with his hands getting lost journeying all around your body--anywhere he could touch. You took over, riding him and rolling your hips fast with both of your palms flat on his chest riddled with hickies. Like this, you thought that he looked practically angelic. Both of you chased your orgasms together, erupting at nearly the same time, and you ravished in him throbbing inside.

You laughed a little together in sheer bliss and he flinched a little when you slid off of him.

“Did that all feel good for you? Are you okay?” You pecked his nose.

“Yes. It felt like nothing else.”

You stood up, adjusting your frazzled hair and putting on a fresh set of comfy clothes. “Stay right there okay?”

You went to grab him a towel and clean himself off with, handing him his clothes one by one as he dressed. You brought the plates back to the kitchen coming back with a large glass of ice cool water, then offered it to him. He guzzled it letting a little drop fall down his neck.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Do you wanna...stay a little longer?”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

You blew the candle out and dimmed the lights, adjusting a blanket for the two of you to crawl under. Hyunijn followed you under, sweeping you deep into his arms.

Just a little bit longer. You thought to yourself. Stay with me.

[eliemo]

Something Long and Stupid

Summary: Remus knew he wasn't a good person. He was Deadpool, a killer for hire, "the merc with a mouth." He'd come to terms with what he was a long time ago. He didn't need Spiderman to remind him of what he was.

He didn't need Virgil to come into his life and make him question it for the first time

TWs: Violence, threats, strong language, blood

Notes: Superhero au, Spiderman Virgil, Deadpool Remus, enemies to lovers Dukexiety

New project that nobody asked for. I know I should finish my ongoing wips before starting a new one but I do not control the hyperfixation.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

When Virgil kicked Remus in the chest and sent him hurtling off the building into an active construction site, Remus found himself thinking about how they’d met.

Honestly, it hadn’t started off much better. Spiderman was a piece of shit who thought he was so much better than Remus just because Deadpool killed some people every now and then.

Well, that had been the first impression anyway. They hadn’t exactly started off on the right foot.

Remus had been doing his job, thank you very much, he was a mercenary for hire, it wasn’t like he’d been going after a gang of strangers for fun. And he certainly hadn’t needed help.

There were three of them and one of him, just some standard thugs that had been causing a bit too much trouble for people with more money to spend, their names already set to pay for Remus’s rent this month.

He’d unsheathed his swords, (guns would make it over too quickly, and what was the fun in that?) letting the assholes get their hopes up by grabbing for their own weapons and then—

Then all his targets were all suddenly covered in webs, firmly plastered to the nearest wall with threats and screaming that Remus ignored in favor of whirling around, slicing the air with his blades.

“Hey, what the fuck?”

Spiderman was half hanging off the wall, stepping back down onto the ground when he saw Remus staring. “You’re welcome,” he called, like Remus had asked for him to come in ruin is fun.

Remus scoffed, because rude. You don’t just steal someone’s kill like that. But at least they were immobilized now, which meant shooting them and getting the day over with would be a piece of cake. The webs weren’t budging no matter how frantically they kicked.

He yanked his gun from his belt to do exactly that, only to have another web (seriously, fucking spider webs had no business being this strong) wrapped around his wrist, another pulling the pistol right out of his hand.

“Uh, motherfucker?” Remus took a step back, furiously grabbing at the lingering webs with his bare hands, grimacing at the way it clung to his leather. “Jeez, you want me to decapitate them instead?”

“They’re already down,” the asshole said, like Remus hadn’t noticed. “Back off, Deadpool.”

Remus didn’t have time to be surprised that Spiderman knew who he was, far too busy wanting to run over and punch him right in his stupid masked face. “Ok, clearly you don’t know my deal. Move it, Webs.”

“Then you don’t know mine,” he said, masked eye staring blankly from underneath the hood over his suit. “I’m not letting you murder defenseless people.”

“They’re not fucking defenseless.”

“They’re not breaking free,” the spider said. “The cops will take whoever I capture for them. Call them and leave.”

Remus scoffed and tightened his hold on his sword, wondering if he really wanted to get into a fight with Spiderman in the middle of the afternoon. It was only fucking Tuesday, he was too tired to deal with this shit. “And they can take them in body bags. Give me my gun back.”

Remus was a good foot taller than him, and loaded with about three times as many weapons, but the masked asshole didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. God, he was probably smirking under his suit.

“I finished the fight, I get to decide.” He turned around, his back to Remus like he didn’t even care. “Maybe try to be faster next time.”

“Oh, fuck right off with that,” Remus snarled. “Fuck off. Fuck off and suck a fat dick, you fucking—”

“Either you walk away, or I leave you tied to the wall.”

“Kinky,” Remus smirked, even if Spiderman couldn’t see it under his own mask. “But fat fucking luck. No way in hell am I letting some bitch in black and purple spanx steal my kill.”

Spiderman actually had the audacity to sigh, like he was dealing with a petulant child. “Nobody’s getting killed.”

“You know, I’ve got more than one gun,” Remus said, mentally calculating how fast he’d have to move to shoot every single person in this alleyway. “I’m playing nice. Get out of my way.”

“You’re not shooting someone who can’t fight back.”

“Oh, are you the moral police?” Jesus, Remus wanted to punch this guy. “Man, fuck off. It’s none of your business.”

He grabbed for his other gun, only to immediately feel something wrap around his waist and legs, yanking hard and lifting him into the air. He shouted something he really hoped no pedestrians were close by enough to overhear, doing his absolute best to give Spiderman his coldest glare as he was slammed against the brick wall, upside down, held firmly down by fucking spider webs.

“Oh, you bitch.”

Remus twisted and thrashed, and while he could feel the webs giving way already it would be a good few minutes until he was free. That fucking asshole.

“Next time I see you I’m cutting off your spider ass and hanging it on my fucking wall!”

Spiderman ignored him, and Remus watched as he grabbed the thugs Remus was supposed to kill and one by one swung them out of the alleyway before disappearing completely.

That whore.

It hadn’t been long, unfortunately, until they’d met again, and Remus had of course tried to punch the asshole right in the head.

They’d ended up on the same rooftop, which was even worse because Remus came up here to relax. Spiderman had just been sitting there, legs dangling over the edge as he watched over the city, looking almost peaceful with his hood down and the sun beating against his mask.

So Remus had immediately vaulted over and swung at him as hard as he possibly could.

And then he’d missed, because of course Spidey had to have fucking inhuman reflexes, which was bullshit. He’d ducked away and managed to jump to Remus’s side before Remus even registered that his fist had met nothing but air.

“Can you leave?” Spiderman asked, so unbothered it only made Remus angrier. “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Making sure people don’t get killed,” he said, moving back towards the ledge. “You should try it sometime.”

Remus crossed his arms, watching the vigilante in disbelief. “You get that I’m a mercenary, right? You’re surprised by the killing thing?”

“I’m not,” he said, and he still wouldn’t even look at Remus. “But I’m stopping it when I can.”

“Oh? So you’re ruining a small business?” Remus threw his arms out and turned towards the ledge overlooking the bustling city. “Spiderman doesn’t support small businesses, you heard it here first, folks!”

Spidey was staring at him now, and Remus had a sneaking suspicion he would not appreciate the look he was being given if the mask was taken off. Asshole.

“I don’t support killing people, Deadpool.”

“Sucks,” Remus said. “You should’ve stayed out of the way. If I wasn’t so kind and generous I would have shot you.”

“You mean if you hadn’t been tied up and defenseless,” Spiderman corrected, and Remus was right back to wanting to punch him. “You’re lucky I didn’t get you arrested.”

Remus dramatically put a hand to his chest and gasped, walking along the roof’s edge. “Oh no. What ever would I have done? I’d be defeated! My one weakness. C ops.”

Spidey didn’t respond, but he did get up and move away when Remus got a bit too close to where he was perched on the ledge. Ha .

“Maybe I should have called the cops on you, Spidey,” Remus added. “They’d finally catch the masked menace. Some jail time might humble you.”

“I’d be fine,” Spiderman said. “I wasn’t the one tied to a wall.”

Remus hopped back onto the roof with a growl, grimacing at the reminder of how long it had taken to get those webs off his suit. “Yeah, don’t do that shit again. Seriously, I can and will end you.”

“Get in line behind half the city, Deadpool.”

Remus scoffed, something he apparently did a lot of whenever talking to Spiderman, and followed him across the rooftop. “Man, your ratings are shit. At least I don't act like a hero.”

It was hard to see, barely noticeable, but Remus saw Spidey’s shoulders tense, just a bit. Apparently he’d struck a nerve. Good.

“I don’t act like anything,” he said, and it was just a little less cocky than before. “I’m just trying to help people.”

“Oh, so you’re playing hero.” Remus grinned, moving until he was crouched right in front of the vigilante. “Ooh ooh, let me guess...you’re in college. You’re ...22. Maybe 23, or 24. You got these big bad powers one day and figured you were the only one in the whole wide world who could protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves.”

Spidey didn’t answer, just looked at him with that blank, unamused stare, so Remus continued. “Or were you born with them? Doesn’t seem like it, you’ve only popped up in the last two or three years—”

“It’s none of your business,” Spiderman cut in, and Remus smirked. “And you’re wrong, for the record.”

“Oh I am, am I?” Remus asked, amused despite himself. “If nobody wants you, why are you even trying?”

Spidey was tense now, and doing a real bad job of hiding it. “Maybe I don’t give a shit what people think.”

“Right.” Remus didn’t need to see the guy’s face to know that wasn’t it. “You do realize how much money you could make with those powers, right?”

“I don’t care,” he said. “I’m fine doing what I’m doing.”

Remus looked him over, he’d seen spidey all over newspapers and on TV before, but this was the first time actually talking to him in person, besides the other day when the asshole had ruined his afternoon. Honestly, it was kinda underwhelming. He expected the suit to be higher tech, at least.

“Are you broke?” he asked. “You seem broke. I could make you a way better mask, by the way. It looks like shit.”

“I’m sure,” Spidey said, completely ignoring his generous offer. Rude. “And how much do you get paid for killing people?”

“A lot.”

Spiderman hummed nonchalantly, no longer looking at Remus. “Well, I’m glad it’s worth it.”

“It is! I sleep like a baby in my king sized bed.” And yeah, that was a little bit of a lie. Barely.. He wasn’t living that luxuriously, New York was expensive as shit, but based on his tech he was way better off than Webs.

“That’s wonderful,” Spiderman said and damn, apparently the masked menace was capable of being a sarcastic bastard as well as a cocky asshole. “You done pretending now? Can I go?”

“I’m not pretending anything.”

“Yeah, ok.” Spiderman was back to sounding arrogant, and Remus couldn’t remember why they were talking instead of fighting to the death. “I know you sleep like shit.”

Remus actually laughed, humorless and cold, because what the fuck?

“Oh yeah?”

“Nobody kills for a living if their life is going great,” Spidey said. “What horrible trauma pushed you to that decision?”

Oh, this motherfucker. This piece of shit. He was so dead when Remus could catch him off guard.

“Nobody puts on a costume and fights crime when half the city wants him dead if his life is going great, either.” Remus smirked, moving to try to get Spidey to look at him again. “At least I get money for it. No student loan debt at 26 is pretty nice.”

He probably shouldn’t have given the vigilante that was quickly turning into his sworn enemy his age but eh. What was he gonna do, kill him? Remus didn’t stay dead.

“That’s great,” Spiderman said. “And all it cost was people’s lives.”

“Yep!” Remus hoped it came out cheery enough to piss him off a little more. “Think of it this way, Spidey. They’re gonna die anyway.”

Spiderman immediately straightened up and stalked to the other end of the rooftop, clearly wanting the conversation to end. Mission accomplished. “Jesus Christ.”

“It’s true!” he called, just to drive home the fuck off a bit more. “Someone would have gotten to them eventually.”

“They’re still people, Deadpool.”

Remus shrugged. “Good people don't get hits put on them.”

“Maybe not,” the vigilante agreed. “But good people don’t murder in exchange for money, either.”

Remus barked another laugh at that, more genuine this time because... yeah? Duh. “No shit. I never fucking said I was a good person.”

“You’re lucky you haven't killed anyone innocent yet.” And goddammit there was that ‘hero’ shit again that made Remus want to throw up. He’d just been starting to have fun, too.

“It’s still not your business.”

“It will be,” Spidey said, perched on the ledge in a way that would make Remus dizzy if he cared. “Stick to killing criminals and we'll be fine.”

“Oh?” Remus followed, smirking in a way that would probably get him punched if he took off his mask. “Are you gonna come get me if I’m not good?”

“That’s my job.”

“Aw, don’t worry,” Remus teased. “I’ll wear something sexy for you.”

“Gross.”

“Love you too, Spider Babe!”

Spidey scoffed, responding with a gloved middle finger when Remus winked. Remus watched a web shoot from his wrist, and suddenly Spiderman was gone, swinging across New York rooftops, leaving Remus to try to figure out how he was getting down.

Remus honestly hadn’t expected to see him again. He was fucked in the head, but he didn’t have any plans to lose control and start killing everyone in sight. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t a villain Spiderman needed to spend time tracking down. New York was busy enough for both of them already.

He did plan on chucking the nearest heavy object at him if he ever saw Spidey swinging past. That never ended up happening. Not that he cared. He didn’t miss him.

He expected to catch a glimpse of him eventually, maybe close enough to yell a few lighthearted threats or call him names, but nothing as entertaining as the argument on the roof.

What he hadn’t expected, was to run right into the masked menace while walking home in the middle of the night.

Remus had just finished a job, something standard and quick, and after wiping the blood from his blades he’d decided to take the long way home. The sun had set, the night air was crisp and relaxing, and it helped Remus forget about the blood stains he needed to wash away.

He’d been cutting through sidestreets, mentally mapping out how to get back to his place. He turned a corner into an alleyway, and—

And there was Spiderman, hunched over himself and leaned against the wall like he’d been using it for support, shaking, gasping, and completely drenched in deep red blood.

Remus froze, and Spidey did too as soon as he registered Deadpool standing just a few paces away, the two of them staring silently for what felt like an eternity.

“Dude,” Remus said when he found his voice. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Spiderman was clutching at his chest, black and purple suit barely able to hide the red stains, leaned heavily against the brick wall as he watched Remus warily. “Nothing.”

“Don’t be stupid. Whose blood is that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he snapped, and his voice was wavering. “Keep walking.”

Remus took a step forward, frowning at the way the vigilante went tense against the wall. He ignored it. “Whose blood is it?” It came out more of a command than a question this time.

“Mostly mine,” Spiderman said, and Remus could see it pooling around his gloves now that he was closer. “It’s fine.”

“Why’re you bleeding?”

“None of your business. Go home.”

Remus tried to get a better look from where he stood, well aware that approaching might not be the best idea right now. “Was it a gun or a knife?”

“It was none of your business and you need to go away.”

Remus watched him, incredulous, because the idiot was barely standing and losing way too much blood way too quickly, and he was pretty sure Spiderman didn’t have Remus’s whole immortality deal.

“You really want to bleed out on the street like some street thug?”

The vigilante hesitated, and Remus listened to the way his breathing was turning into awful sounding wheezes. “I’m...not going to bleed out. I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Remus challenged, probably a bit more aggressively than was needed for someone who looked like they were about to keel over. “Walk over to me then.”

He’d expected the lack of response, but even though the eyes built into the suit were practically lifeless (he really should get him some more advanced goggles. He’d be a lot more approachable if his eyes weren’t so blank) Remus could still see his whole body tense in fear.

“No,” he said, low and trembling. “Fuck off.”

“Spidey, this isn’t a joke.” Jesus, that was a lot of blood. “You’re gonna bleed out.”

“And you can throw a party—”

“Fucking come here.” He hadn’t meant to snap, but he wasn’t going to just stand here bickering with the city’s hero until he dropped dead. But Spidey still shook his head, pressed even further against the wall now, and Remus sighed. “Fine.”

Remus took a few steps forward, initially planning on prying his arms away to get a better look at the wound, but Spiderman flinched back, trying to scramble away like Remus was coming at him with a weapon.

Well, Remus supposed that made sense. He had threatened to kill him a couple times last time they spoke.

“Chill it, Spidey.” Remus crouched a bit, suddenly painfully aware of how much taller he was, carefully holding his hands out. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you,” he shot back. Which...yeah, fair. “I know you want to.”

“Does it look like I have a knife in my hand?” Remus asked. “No. Chill out and let me see.”

Spidey didn’t pull away when Remus took his shoulders, but he did flinch as soon as Deadpool touched him, probably involuntarily. Remus ignored it, focusing instead on figuring out where the blood was coming from. It was almost impossible in the dark lighting, especially up against the black suit.

“It’s...not that bad,” Spiderman rasped. “Seriously.”

Remus wasn’t buying that for a second. “What happened?”

“I was stupid, that’s what happened,” Spidey said, arms still wrapped firmly around himself. “It...there were five of them and one of them got lucky with a knife.”

“Jesus, fuck.” Remus pulled back, trying to figure out what to do. “You are stupid. Where?”

He only hesitated a moment. “Uh, my chest. I heal fast.”

“Jesus. How fast?”

Spiderman shrugged, then obviously regretted it when it pulled at the stab wound. “Hopefully fast enough,” he said. “I’ll be fine tomorrow or I’ll be dead.”

“Jesus,” Remus said again, because what the fuck else was he supposed to say? “Sit down. Jesus Christ.”

Spidey thankfully did as he said, though Remus suspected it had more to do with the fact that he couldn’t keep himself standing anymore rather than actually following instructions.

He wasn’t fighting anymore, almost limp as Remus took his wrists and moved them to his sides, but he did look like he was ready to bolt the second Deadpool made one wrong move.

Like he wouldn’t fall right on his face and hurt himself worse if he tried.

Remus could see the source of the blood now, a deep gash across his upper chest that had apparently sliced the black and purple suit like butter, still gushing crimson with each passing second.

Shit.

“Alright, uh.” This wasn’t his expertise in the slightest. Other than digging out some bullets, Remus didn't have to tend to his wounds. “I don’t think I have any fabric or...oh, your hoodie. Hand it over.”

Spiderman stared, and if he didn’t hurry up and get with the program Remus was going to knock him out and handle this himself. “Why?”

“Because you’re bleeding out. Give it.”

Spidey at least had the sense to listen and carefully peel the hoodie away from his suit, sliding it down his arms even as his gloved hands shook violently. Remus couldn’t help but wince at the noise Spiderman tried to choke back, because that had to hurt like a bitch.

“Maybe, like...lay down?” Remus suggested. “Yeah, do that. It’ll help.”

Spidey still hesitated, even as the blood continued to flow and he started to slide down against his will. “I...need to see what you’re doing.”

Remus sighed, bunching up the hoodie and pressing it firmly against the wound, ignoring the strangled gasp that came from the vigilante. Blood was quickly soaking through the cloth, and Remus just pressed harder.

“I’m just putting pressure on it to stop the bleeding,” Remus said. “If I wanted to kill you I’d leave you here. If it stops bleeding you’ll heal, right?”

The only answer he got was another wet, trembling gasp when Remus pushed harder, Spiderman’s blood soaking into his gloves. It took a second for him to realize he was grasping at Remus’s wrists, his hold weak.

“H-hopefully,” Spidey managed, and he really didn’t sound great. His eyes were drooping, and Remus figured the biggest danger right now was letting him fall asleep. “Or, you know. I’ll die.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Remus said without thinking. “I’m gonna stop the bleeding, you’re gonna heal with whatever weird powers you have, and then you’ll be less of a careless idiot next time.”

A few moments passed without an answer, and for once Remus wasn’t entirely sure how to fill the silence. The only sound between them was Spiderman’s labored, ragged breathing, which at least sounded a bit less shaky and faint as Remus continued to press down.

“What are you doing?” Spidey asked eventually, catching Remus completely off guard with the stupid question. “Why are you...trying to help?”

Remus wasn’t trying to do anything. He was helping. The city’s beloved hero would have been dead five minutes ago if he hadn’t managed to interrupt Remus’s perfectly nice, peaceful walk.

He hadn’t even really thought about it. Remus was an asshole, a murderer for a living, but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t the guy who was going to leave New York’s savior to bleed out in an alleyway.

Besides, he’d been the first person Remus had been able to have a somewhat entertaining conversation with in months.

“Somebody’s gotta save everyone,” he eventually settled on, still pressing hard against the wound. “And I refuse to be the city’s only mouthy vigilante.”

Another beat of silence, and for a moment Remus thought he might have fallen asleep. “I don’t...save anyone. And I’m not mouthy.”

“You do,” Remus argued. “And you are.”

“I don’t,” he snapped, and at least he didn’t seem inclined to argue about the mouthy thing. “You do your job better than I do.”

Remus took a moment to look over the bleeding hero. He was weak and trembling, and probably dangerously pale and clammy under that suit. The blood flow had definitely slowed, but it hadn't stopped. There was a good chance he wouldn’t remember a damn thing Remus said to him tonight.

And if he did, it’s not like he really gave a shit, anyway.

“I’m a mercenary,” Remus said. “Anyone can kill someone. It takes something a lot stronger to save them. So shut up and stop being self deprecating.”

Spiderman shuddered when Remus carefully peeled back the bloody hoodie, leaning in to get a better look at where they were at. Either he was just that good at fixing stab wounds, or Spidey’s healing powers were gradually starting to kick in.

Remus decided to go with the former. He deserved it.

“I got someone killed tonight,” Spidey said, quiet and unbearably sad. “She...she died because I wasn’t fast enough, and I didn’t—”

“You can’t save everyone.”

The vigilante pulled his hands away from Remus’s wrists, like he’d just realized he was holding them. “I should have tried harder.”

Remus sighed. “You tried hard enough. You did fine.”

That was apparently the end of the conversation, Spiderman falling back into silence as Remus went back to making sure he didn’t start bleeding all over the place again. He didn’t have anything on him to properly clean it up, he wasn’t sure he even owned a first-aid kit, but Spidey’s breathing was starting to even out, and after about ten minutes or so the blood stopped flowing completely.

“You, uh...you good?”

“I’ll be fine,” Spiderman said, and it didn’t sound like a desperate lie this time. He still looked like shit, but he was able to slowly sit up on his own. “Not dying this time. Just...still hurts.”

They were plunged back into silence, slightly less tense than before but no less uncomfortable. Remus eventually relinquished his hold on the hoodie when Spidey was able to carefully take it from him.

Right, he was fine now. Remus didn’t need to stay, it wasn’t his business anymore. It hadn’t been his business to begin with.

“I...owe you,” Spiderman said, almost like it was strange for him to admit. “So, thank y—”

“Don’t thank me, Spidey.” God, this had been a mistake, hadn’t it? “Seriously. Just buy me a pizza sometime and we’ll call it square.”

Spiderman stared for second, unsteady hands holding his own hood to his chest, but the small laugh that escaped at least sounded genuine, and no longer quite so pained.

“Ok,” he said. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Remus hesitated before standing, not really sure if it would be more rude to leave or stay at this point. Spiderman probably didn’t want a mercenary for hire standing over him while he was wounded, whether Remus had saved his life or not.

Remus was still just as far from a hero as the villains Spiderman fought, and both of them had a reputation to keep.

“You sure you’re ok?” Remus asked. “I can like...stay. Or call you an ambulance or...something.”

“I’m good,” Spidey said, sitting up with a small hiss of pain until he was propped up against the wall, breathing still heavy. “You stopped the bleeding, I’ll live. You can go home, Deadpool.”

“Right.” He carefully stepped around the vigilante, still keeping a close eye on his chest to make sure the bleeding didn’t start again. “Just don’t die after all my hard work. My gloves are fucking soaked.”

Spiderman scoffed, but it was more good natured and light than it had been the last time they talked. “You got it.”

Remus kept walking down the alley, only turning around once more before turning the corner at the end. “And don’t forget my pizza, Spidey!”

[kuroopaisen]

tiny love || vi

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime was easy. iwaizumi ultimately decided to rebuff you. through a few strange twists of fate, you’ve ended up living with the very boy who’d broken your heart. but, perhaps it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be

warnings: f!reader, depictions of implied social anxiety 

wc: 5.3k

m.list | ch. 5 ↞ ch. 6↠ ch. 7

The restaurant was tacky, but it was enough to remind you of home – even if it was in the most cliché ways possible. All of the cultural ‘nods’ are cheesy as a tourist trap, but Iwaizumi had told you that it was run by a family of Japanese migrants. Apparently, the food made that obvious.

“What do you recommend?” You asked, peering closely at the menu.

It was written in both English and Japanese, much to your relief. Most of the dishes offered seem like staples, too; you could grab most of these at some little outlet near your home in Miyagi.

“The rice bowls are pretty good,” Iwaizumi said.

“Should I get one with karaage or vegetable tempura?”

“You prefer karaage, right?”

You blinked at him for a moment. He remembers that?

“Both are good,” he shrugged, as if he hadn’t just made your heart jump.

“What are you gonna get?” You asked.

“Probably just some agedashi tofu and then an oyakodon.”

“Ah,” you nodded. You remembered that he’d shown a fondness for both dishes several years ago. Some things didn’t change.

Another silence fell over you. You wanted to say more, to think of something interesting to say. But nothing came to mind.

“Ah, Iwaizumi!”

You looked towards the source of the voice.

The owner was a cute girl with long black hair tied up in a ponytail, with bright and an apron wrapped around her waist.  

Iwaizumi turned to smile at her. “Hi.”

“How’ve you been?” She asked in perfect Japanese.

“Good,” he nodded. “Just trying to get ready for uni.”

“Of course, of course…” She hummed. “Did you just get back?”

“Yeah.” He turned to nod in your direction. “This is my new roommate.”

You blushed, giving the waitress a little wave as he introduced you.

She turned to you and beamed, giving you a little nod in return. “It’s nice to meet you!”

“You too,” you smiled.

The waitress fished a notebook and a pen out of the front pocket of her apron, turning back to Iwaizumi. “The usual, I presume?”

“Mhm,” he chuckled.

“And what would you like?” She asked, turning to you.

“I’d like a karaage rice bowl, thank you.”

“Perfect,” the waitress beamed once more. “I’ll let Youta know right now.”

With that she hurried off in a flurry, making a beeline straight for the kitchen.

Once you were sure she was safely out if earshot, you turned to Iwaizumi.

“How often do you come here?” You teased. You couldn’t help it.

“More than I should,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “My wallet doesn’t thank me for it.”

You smiled, folding your hands in your lap.

“It reminds me of home,” he said quietly.

You didn’t know what to say to that. It’s a vulnerable statement, one that caught you off-guard. You felt like there was more to it, more woven between those words. Should you respond to what you thought was unsaid? Or to the simple statement he’d said out-loud?

You never knew what to do when it came to Iwaizumi.

“I’m glad you found it,” is what you settled on, your voice soft against the din of the restaurant. You meant it.

Iwaizumi smiled at you. “Me too.”

He was making an effort. A real, genuine effort to make this as smooth as possible.

And you were trying to return that energy, to help the two of you make this unfortunate arrangement work. But you knew it wouldn’t be easy. Perhaps this strange energy would hang over the two of you for the rest of the semester, until you found someone to escape with.

But God, was it hard.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Thanks for this,” you blushed, digging your hands into the fabric of the skirt.

“No problem,” Iwaizumi smiled.

Fall was in full swing as the two of you drove down the street, the air temperate enough as you made your way towards university. Iwaizumi had told you it wasn’t long until it got quite chilly.

“What class have you got?” He asked.

“Uh… PSYCH 9A,” you said. You were stuck firmly between excitement and dread, the conflicting emotions grappling for space in your heart. All your classes would be in English and while you certainly weren’t bad at it – you’d been one of the best in your grade – you knew that what was taught in a classroom was very different to what was actually used in practice.

“I did that last year,” he said.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I did it as one of my general education courses.”

“Right,” you replied. The world flew by your window, a flurry of brown and green and beige. There was a lot to think about; too much, in your opinion. It was hard not to get caught up in all your anxieties, letting them eat away at you like a pack of rats.

“You worried?” Iwaizumi’s voice was far more understanding than it had any right to be.

You sighed, looking at the bag plopped between your feet. “I’m scared I won’t be able to keep up.”

He nodded. “That’s understandable.”

You pressed your lips together, frowning. “If I fall behind in the first week, then…”

“You’ll pick it up quicker than you’d expect,” he smiled, “I promise.”

Most of your conversations over the past few days had been in English, per your request. Iwaizumi had complied. You were jealous of just how comfortable he seemed speaking the language. But the upside was that it’d only been a year for him. If he was already this good, then perhaps you could be, too.

“If you need help, just ask,” he said. He’d been saying that a lot recently.

You bit your lip, your gaze still turned towards the floor.

You couldn’t deny that he had, in fact, been exceptional. Anything you needed, he provided. Any question you had, he answered.

He’d helped you find your way around, showed you the best (and cheapest) places to hang out at, recommended the best dictionary apps, and he’d made you dinner every night.

He was looking after you. Well.

Perhaps that was why Tooru had been so keen on the idea of the two of you living together. If only he knew…

The car slowed to a stop. You jumped, too lost in your own thoughts to realise what was going on. Your head flew up, looking around like a meerkat.

Iwaizumi unbuckled himself and got out of the car, leaving you alone. You leant down and grabbed your bag, placing it in your lap.

Deep breath, you thought. You can do this.

Your door opened.

Iwaizumi was holding it open for you. Of course he was.

Part of you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d laid out a bloody carpet for you so you didn’t have to worry about the dirt.

You gave him a little nod of thanks as you got out of the car and slung your bag over your shoulder.

Oh. Oh.

“Well, this is it,” he said, gesturing to the cluster of buildings that laid before you.

It looked so clean, a concrete forest of russet. And it was so big. So ludicrously big.

How many people were here? How many people could fit on this campus? How easy was it to get lost? Just how many classrooms were there?

Seijoh had felt big to you, once. Now it seemed like just a blip.

“Where’s your class?” Iwaizumi asked, closing the door.

“Uh…” You fished your phone out of your pocket, showing him your timetable.

He looked at it for a moment before nodding. “Follow me.”

You scurried after him, trying to take stock of your surroundings as best you could. It was all so different – so big, so official, so… grown-up. This was certainly a place you could get lost in; would you even see most of it in the next four years? That seemed impossible.  

Iwaizumi walked slowly, letting you take your time. You said nothing as you ambled on, your mind racing. What did the inside of all these buildings look like? Which ones would your classes be in? What sorts of people would be in your classes? Would you make friends? Would you get a boyfriend?

“Hey.” Iwaizumi’s voice had that gentle firmness it always had when he was scolding Tooru.

“Hm?” You looked at him, a little confused.

“We’re here,” he nodded towards a big building to your left. You weren’t sure if you would’ve been able to distinguish it yourself if you’d been left to your own bearings.

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him. “You really didn’t have to.”

He shrugged. “I remember being intimidated by campus when I first came here. It’s easy to get lost, especially when you’re not fluent in English.”

That much was true. You were speaking to each other in Japanese, after all.

“Right…” You nodded.

“Good luck,” he nodded in return, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a small bow. It doesn’t feel like enough of the thanks for the last week.

Iwaizumi shook his head. “You don’t have to do that here.”

You straightened up and blinked at him. “Right.”

“Will you be able to get back alright?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said, with a little too much confidence. In all honesty, you have no idea if you could – something to do with buses, probably.

You couldn’t keep relying on Iwaizumi like this. It’s not that you’re humiliated, per se, but more that you didn’t want to be a burden.

You could do this. You could grab this new life of yours by the throat and take control.

But you also couldn’t ignore the hammering in your chest as you took your first steps into your undergraduate career.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Sorry about this,” you mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek as you slipped into the passenger’s seat.

“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi said, offering you a warm smile. Somehow he even managed to make the interior lighting of his car seem flattering.

You’d managed to make your way home on public transport well enough for the first few days, but all of your classes had finished before three in the afternoon.

Tonight’s class finished at six. The idea of trying to navigate your way back to the apartment had been more nerve-wracking than you could bear.

Your first instinct had been to call Iwaizumi.

A small irritation scratched at the back of your mind. It felt independence had just been in reach, tantalisingly close. But all of that bravery had ended up being an illusion. That’s how you felt, at least.

You bit back a sigh, gazing out the window.

The streetlights cast a warm glow on the pavement as a few students ambled along, rapt in conversation. Occasionally, their faces would light up with laughter – a cruel yet unintentional reminder that your own social life had been dead on arrival.

But you’re happy for these people, at least; loneliness was probably the hardest burden you’d had to bear so far. And you were living with the Iwaizumi Hajime.  

“How was your first week?” He asked.

“I’m doing okay,” you admitted. “Sometimes I don’t get what they’re saying, but… the lecture slides make it easier to follow along.” It got a little easier with each class, but you had the suspicion that it would take a while for you to properly adapt.

“Are your lecturers nice?”

You nodded. “Thankfully.”

“Good,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “And your classmates?”

You shook your head. “I haven’t spoken to any of them. Too scared.”

“Ah…” He was silent for a moment, seemingly turning something over in his head.

“What about you?” You asked, desperate to shift the attention away from your failed social life.

“It’s going well,” he nodded. “I’ve been able to get into the rhythm of it pretty quickly.”

“Good,” you smiled.

It’s understandable enough. He’d had a year to get used to the whole university thing.

How long was it going to take you? Were you ever going to get used to it? Or had this whole move been a big mistake, a risk you shouldn’t’ve taken just to prove you could do it?

You looked up at the sky. The stars weren’t as clear or bright as they were in Miyagi. You always looked up when you and Tooru walked home of an evening, after those long practice sessions he insisted on doing. Or when you and Amaya walked to either of your houses for a sleepover as she pointed at different constellations and told you the stories behind them.

Home felt so far away.

Would you ever feel like you belonged here?

“Hey,” Iwaizumi murmured.

“Hm?”

“Is it okay if I have some friends over tomorrow?”

Your stomach twisted. You weren’t sure why.

People you didn’t know in your house… It felt silly, finding it so scary.

But you weren’t going to deny him his social life.

“Sure,” you answered.

“Cool,” he breathed. He sounded genuinely relieved.

You bit the inside of your cheek. You were sure he was asking to be polite, but the guilt had already seeded itself in your mind. Did he really feel like he couldn’t have people over because you were there? Granted, it’d only been a week. Maybe he thought you weren’t quite settled yet.

God, why’d he have to go and be so considerate? He really was setting the standard too high.

“What do you want for dinner tonight?” He asked.

“I’m fine with anything,” you shrugged.

The least you could do in return for all the help he’d given you was be a respectful roommate.

✧ ✧ ✧

The sound of people engaging in conversation outside your room made your stomach swell.

A few hours ago, Iwaizumi had asked you if you’d like to introduce yourself to his friends. You’d agreed – it would probably do you some good to actually meet some people. He’d said they were all Japanese exchange students themselves, so communication shouldn’t be a problem.

Although, that didn’t make it any less stressful.

You took a deep breath, reaching for your door handle.

You could do this. You just needed to get over the awkward introduction.

The sound of laughter heightened as you pushed your door open, allowing yourself to catch sight of the small group gathered in the living room.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi waved at you, smile on his face and beer in hand.

“Hey,” you said quietly, holding a hand up in greeting.

His friends turned to look at you. You recognized some of the faces from the photos on the wall. Three guys, two girls.

“Hello!” One of the girls called out to you with a wave.

You nodded at her with a smile, taking a few tentative steps towards the group.

“This is Ren,” Iwaizumi said, gesturing to a guy with wavy black hair and bright eyes. He’s far too pretty to meet without a warning.

“Taiki,” Iwaizumi gestured to the boy standing to the left of Ren. He had close-cropped hair and muscles that almost gave Iwaizumi some competition. Almost.

“Mei.” She had long red hair and an enviable sense of style. She looked like the sort of girl you’d be terrified of approaching in high school, simply because she was far too cool for you.

“Haruto.” The guy with the kind smile and brown hair so soft you wanted to touch it. There’s something about him that almost reminds you of Tooru – if Tooru wasn’t such a brat.

“And Yuna.” The other girl, with a brown bob and such sharp eyeliner that you couldn’t help but wonder how stable her hand must be when applying it.

You felt a little embarrassed, just standing there in your lounge clothes; thank God it’s wasn’t your pyjamas, but they’re certainly not clothes you’d wear on a fun outing somewhere.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you blushed, looking at the floor.

A chorus of ‘you too’s erupted from the group, much louder than you’d expected. You managed to supress the urge to flinch.

“What’re your plans?” You asked.

“Oh, we’ll just be playing some board games,” Ren said, waving a hand at you.

“Right,” you nodded. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting. They all had some kind of beer in hand, so you might’ve expected something a bit more… rowdy. But, you weren’t complaining.

“You should join us!” One of the girls – Yuna, was it? – smiled at you, the expression illuminating her entire face.

You considered it for a moment, each pro and con rushing through your head at lightning speed. You didn’t want to be rude, and it would be nice to spend some time with people other than Iwaizumi…

But they were his friends. Wouldn’t you be intruding? You didn’t want to just barge in and expect to be included just because you happened to live with him.

Yet at the same time, Yuna was smiling at you so kindly. Turning her down would feel rude.

“Sure,” you nodded.

Yuna ushered you over towards the couches, sitting you down next to her. Mei sat on your other side, offering you an unbearably pretty smile.

“What’re you doing?” You asked.

“It’s this card game,” Haruto explained, “each card has a symbol on it, see?” He held two cards up for you to see. Sure enough, both cards had a yellow diamond on them.

You nodded.

“So, they each have a category on them,” he said. You looked between both cards. It took you a moment as they were English words, but one said ‘film’ and the other said ‘animal.’

“Mhm.”

“Now all the cards are placed in a deck in the middle, and on your turn, you take a card and place it face up. If the symbol matches another card on the table, then you need to call out a word that belongs in the category of the other card,” he explained.

You nodded slowly. “So… if I had the animal card and you had the film card, I’d need to call out a film?”

“Exactly right,” he smiled.

“You’ll pick it up as you go along,” Iwaizumi reassured.

“Do I have to say it in English?” You asked.

Haruto shook his head. “You can say something in English or Japanese. No stress.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Alright, is everyone ready?” Taiki barked. “I wanna start!”

Suffice to say you didn’t do particularly well for the first few rounds.

It took you a little longer than everyone else to translate the English to Japanese, but you did manage to secure a few wins. Although, that was mainly won off the backs of other people’s mistakes – Taiki, for example, yelled out ‘plant’ for the category of ‘vegetable’.

After the second round, you got up and headed to the kitchen, intent on getting yourself a drink of water.

You opened the fridge door as quietly as you could, not wanting to disturb your guests. You grabbed the water jug, grimacing at how heavy it was.

When you closed it, Iwaizumi was standing right there.

“Fuck!” You jumped, a hand flying to your chest.

“Sorry,” he grinned. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

You glared at him for a second, only to give up as soon as your wrist started to ache.

“Are you doing alright?” He asked as you plunked the jug on the countertop.

“Yeah,” you nodded, opening one of your cupboards and grabbing a cup. “Yuna’s really nice.”

“Okay, good,” he smiled. From the look on his face, you guessed that he was relieved. “Don’t feel pressured to stay out here,” he said.

“It’s okay, really,” you shook your head, pouring some water into your glass. Some splashed onto the counter despite your best efforts – and you didn’t even have the excuse of being tipsy.

Iwaizumi nodded slowly, still smiling at you. His cheeks were a bit flushed; a key indicator that he was likely a handful of drinks away from ‘well and truly drunk.’

You held the water out to him instinctively. He took it from you, only for confusion to blossom across his face.

“Huh?”

“You should probably drink some,” you said, rather lost yourself. “So you don’t get a hangover.”

“Oh,” he swallowed. “Right.”

He brought the cup to his lips and tipped it back. You busied yourself with getting another glass – there was no way you were just going to stand there and watch him drink. God knew where your mind might go, and you didn’t like it.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Iwaizumi said, placing the now-empty cup back on the counter.

“Thanks,” you smiled.

Once you’d finally gotten your own cup of water (that you hadn’t handed to Iwaizumi for no good reason), you scampered back to the couch and settled down in your spot between Yuna and Mei.

They’d swapped the first card game out for another – the rules were that one person had a card with a word on it, and they had to try and explain it without using said word.

They cycled through a fair few games, burning through casket of beer after casket of beer. The hours burned on faster than you could keep track, but you didn’t mind. You were laughing too much to care.

“Oh, shit,” Iwaizumi mumbled, staring at his phone.

“Hm?” Taiki sniffed. His face was bright red, but he didn’t seem to care. “Is it Misaki?”

Iwaizumi nudged him with his knee as he grumbled something under his breath. Whether you liked it or not, the name Misaki was lodged firmly in the back of your brain.

“I was gonna say it’s three in the morning,” Iwaizumi grunted.

“Oh,” Yuna gasped, whipping out her own phone. “Fuck.”

“Do buses even run this late?” Mei grimaced.

“I have no idea,” Yuna bit her lip, her brow creasing.

“You guys can crash here if you want,” Iwaizumi offered.

“All of us?” Mei raised an eyebrow at him.

“Why not?” He asked.

“I don’t know about Yuna, but I don’t want to be snuggled up against any of these fools,” Mei grimaced, waving a hand at the three guys.

“What do you mean?” Ren whined.

“There’s only so much room on these couches,” Mei shrugged.

“I guess we can sleep on the floor,” Haruto mumbled.

“I’ve been told you snore,” Mei said.

“And?”

“I’m a light sleeper.”

Haruto scoffed. “How do you even know whether or not I snore?”

“Well, Maka—”

“Alright,” Haruto held his hands up, shaking his head.

An idea brewed in the back of your mind. It’s not a perfect solution, but it could certainly save any of them an early morning trek back to their own apartments.

You took a deep breath, trying to build up the confidence to speak up.

“The girls can stay in my room, if they’d like,” you said quietly.

Every head turned to face you. Yikes.

“Are you sure?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Mhm!” You nodded, trying to look as enthusiastic as possible. “I don’t mind. And I can promise you I don’t snore,” you said, turning to Mei.

She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re an angel.”

You beamed at that little affirmation.

“I owe you one,” Iwaizumi grinned, ruffling your hair fondly. Your cheeks bloomed red; although, that didn’t really stand out amongst this bunch.

You nodded at him, turning on your tail and fleeing to your room.

The girls were already in there, inspecting the wall above your desk. You’d stuck some photos up the other day on a whim; a bunch of polaroids and four-by-sixes arranged in something that resembled a neat collage.

“These are so cute,” Yuna cooed, turning to pout at you.

“Thanks,” you giggled.

“Look at you!” She whined, pointing at a picture of your graduation. Amaya and another one of your friends stand either side of you, your smiles bright and brilliant as you each cradled a bouquet of flowers. It might only have been a few months ago, but you felt like you looked far younger.

“You’re adorable,” Mei pouted.

It felt a bit weird, having people you barely knew in your space like this. But this was at least an echo of the college experience, right? Two drunk girls calling you cute while you were strikingly sober… Sounded about right.

It kind of reminded you of all those sleepovers during your school years. There’s something comforting in that.

Yuna suddenly froze.

“Everything alright?” You asked, tensing up yourself.

“Who is that?” She hissed, pointing at a new photo.

You stepped forward to get a better look at who she was talking about.

Oh. Tooru.

It’s a photo you’d taken with him last winter, when he’d come back to Japan for a week. By that time, he’d gotten quite tanned, and he’d really bulked up. Whatever he was doing in Argentina, it was paying off. Although, you could do without his bragging.

“That’s my brother,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. You didn’t mean any ill will; you were just quite used to girls asking you about your brother. Usually, you just told them they could do much better.

Yuna gaped at you. “Your brother?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “He’s currently in Argentina.” You didn’t really know what else to say.

“That’s not that far away,” Mei mused.

“I’m pretty sure it’s still like… a twenty-hour flight away,” you giggled.

“But it’s closer than Japan,” Mei tsked.

“If your brother ever comes to visit,” Yuna said calmly, “let us know.”

You were about to respond when Yuna gasped loudly.

“Is that Hajime?” She hissed, pointing at another photo.

It’s one from Tooru’s graduation, this time. It’s also the only photo of Iwaizumi on your wall. Makki and Mattsun are also in it, grinning brilliantly as they held Tooru in a headlock. You were at the side, laughing at your brother, as Iwaizumi watched the scene fondly.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “He’s best friends with my brother.”

“Aw, that’s so cute,” Mei cooed. “Why didn’t he ever tell us that his best friend looked like that?”

“You never looked at the photos out in the living room?” You asked.

“Oh,” Mei blinked. “Well, it looks like a bunch of men from far away, so I wasn’t interested.”

“I didn’t even realise there were photos in the front room,” Yuna mumbled.  

You giggled again, shaking your head. You had no idea how you were going to get these two to settle and go to bed, but you’re pretty sure you don’t regret letting them stay here.

This was the most fun you’d had ever since you landed in California.

✧ ✧ ✧

You’d balked when Iwaizumi had first promised to ‘teach you’ how to go grocery shopping.

But standing in the middle of the Asian Grocer, surrounded by more cuts of meat than you could ever conceive, you realised that it was wise to listen to what he had to say.

You’d spent an absurd amount of time going through each isle as Iwaizumi pointed out the bargains – many of which had to do with bulk buying – and discussing what the cheapest version of each item was, and when it was best to sacrifice cost for quality.  

“Oh, by the way,” he said, interrupting your intense observation of the swath of shaved pork staring at you from the freezer.

You turned to look at him expectantly.

“I didn’t say thanks for letting Yuna and Mei stay in your room.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry for putting that on you,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t expect everyone to stay so late.”

“I said it’s fine,” you chuckled. “I offered. And I wouldn’t have felt good about them all heading home that early in the morning.”

Iwaizumi smiled at you softly for a moment.

You swallowed, turning back to the meat. “They seem nice,” you said. You weren’t sure what else you were supposed to say.

Iwaizumi nodded. “Yeah. Taiki can be a brat though.”

“More or less of a brat than Tooru?” You grinned.

“Oh, less,” Iwaizumi answered immediately.

You giggled, opening the freezer and grabbing a random Styrofoam pallet of meat. You’d spent far too long in this section; long enough that you were getting cold.

“Where’d you meet them?” You asked, putting the pallet in the basket slung over Iwaizumi’s forearm.

“Uh, Taiki’s from the gym. The others are from the Japanese Students Association.”

Your ears perked up at that. “The Japanese Students Association?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “That’s where I met most of my friends, actually.”

“Really?”

“It’s much easier than making friends in your classes,” he smiled.

You chewed on your cheek for a moment. Admittedly, the whole ‘making friends in class’ plan wasn’t going well for you. There was hardly any time to properly socialise, and you never knew when it was okay to strike up a conversation. Maybe if you were still in Japan, you’d have an easier time navigating this torrid new social landscape.

But you just didn’t know what was considered rude or weird or even creepy here.

“You should join,” he suggested. When you caught his eye, he was already looking at you, a touch of concern on his brow.

“You think?”

“It’s a good way of getting to know people,” he shrugged. “I joined when I felt lonely last year.”

The words hit you harder than you thought they would. “I’m sorry,” you frowned.

“It’s fine,” he chuckled. “Anyway, they’re having a party soon.”

“Are they?”

He nodded. “To ‘kick off’ the semester or something. It’s really just an excuse to get shit-faced.”

You laughed. “Really?”

“That’s what all uni parties are for,” he grinned.

You considered it for a moment.

A party… you’d never really been to one before. Not an Americanised party, anyway. Not one where everyone got absurdly drunk.

Alone, surrounded by unfamiliar drunk people, in a city you don’t know…

Your stomach lurched.

You wanted to be brave. You wanted to put yourself out there. But the thought did nothing but make your skin crawl. Maybe you were just being paranoid, but it sounded dangerous.

“You okay?” Iwaizumi asked.

You blinked up at him. “Oh, yeah, I…” You turned your attention to the floor. “I just don’t think I’ll go.”

“Why not?”

“I think I’d just feel…” You paused for a moment, trying to think of the mildest way to say what you were feeling. “I think I’d feel a little uncomfortable.”

You braved a glance at him.

He was pressing his lips together, a thoughtful frown on his face.

A knot of guilt twisted in your stomach. You were making him worry again. That’s all you seemed to have done since you’d been here. You knew he’d offered to live with you, but it’s like you’ve been nothing but a burden ever since you’d arrived.

And you hated that more than anything. You hated making him worry. You hated giving him reason for concern. All because you couldn’t go to a stupid party on your own.

“I could come with you, if you’d like.”

His offer surprised you.

Maybe you should’ve expected him to say something like that. And usually, the thought of going to a party with him would make you feel like you wanted to throw up.

But you’d survived the past few weeks. And Iwaizumi looked like that. No weird asshole was going to try and approach you or make you feel uncomfortable if he was standing next to you.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you said sheepishly.

Iwaizumi smiled, shaking his head. “Not at all.”

[ragingbookdragon]

Black Jeans & Daphne Blue Still Make Me Think Of You

Jason Todd x M!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2.4K Warnings: Mentions of Torture and Death, Explicit Language

Author's Note: Daphne Blue by The Band CAMINO has been my new favorite song. Enjoy! -Thorne

He knelt in front of the guy he had tied to the chair. Poor bastard. He thought. Always gotta make things so difficult. Reaching up, he slapped him across the face a couple times.

“Oi, wakey, wakey.” The guy startled awake, immediately whimpering behind the gag. “Oh, good morning sleeping beauty. Have a nice nap?” The guy groaned and he chuckled, yanking down the strip of fabric. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I don’t know anything, Sentinel, I swear to God.”

Sentinel eyed him behind the mask. “You really wanna do this whole dance all over again?” he poked at one of the guy’s broken fingers. “You don’t have any more fingers to break. The next option is your toes.” He started to pull of the guy’s shoes.

“Wait! Wait!” he cried, trying to yank away. “Please don’t!”

“Tell me what I wanna know and your piggies can still go to the market,” he lazily retorted, letting go of his foot.

“But he’ll kill me!” he cried.

Sentinel stared at him. “I’m still wondering what makes you think I’m not gonna kill you too.” he deadpanned, pulling out a silver dagger.

The blade itself was fairly simply, not engraved or marked with extensive decorations of gold or ivory. No, frivolous things such as that were only meant for special and expensive weapons. This dagger had been created by someone with a decent amount of money. Meant to withstand against weathering and usage—it merely served a purpose.

“Look, I’ll make you a deal. You tell me where I can find Two-Face and I’ll kill you quickly. That’ll certainly save you a lot of pain and fear from having your boss dump you in a pool of acid,” he reasoned.

The thug choked on a sob and let his head loll back. “Alright! I’ll talk!”

“Wonderful,” Sentinel smiled. “Where’s Two-Face hiding out.”

“The old courthouse in Arkham City. It’s in the center of the city, you can’t miss it.”

“How many thugs does he have with him at all times?”

The guy’s face pinched. “I don’t know, he’s got a personal guard and the normal group too.”

“No shit,” Sentinel griped. “Numbers, jackass.”

“No more than ten for his personal, but he’s got about thirty normal.”

“Weapons?”

“Anything you can think of,” the thug answered. “Guns, knives, lead pipes, everything.”

Sentinel leaned back on his haunches, thinking for a moment. “Who’s Two-Face allied with at the moment?”

“I—” The guy’s mouth opened, then he snapped it shut.

“Oh, come on, do you need me to cut off a finger?”

“No, it’s—it’s just…”

“Just what?” Sentinel demanded.

“There was supposed to be a meeting tonight about discussing new gang territories,” the thug answered.

He paused and glared at him. “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

“You wanted to know about Two-Face only?”

“Where’s the meeting?”

“Penguin’s Iceberg Lounge.”

“Thanks.” Sentinel quipped and thrust the knife into the thug’s throat. His gasp turned into a gurgle as crimson poured down his neck and into his shirt before he ultimately slumped forward. He yanked the dagger out and wiped it on the guy’s pants before sheathing it and standing.

“Lovely,” he grunted. “Now I have to change plans.”

“You know,” someone said from above him. “Batman’s not going to be very happy about you coming into town and killing his punching bags.”

Sentinel whirled around and looked up, catching sight of a familiar Red Hood sitting rather comfortably on a metal beam, his head tipped in a cocky fashion.

He pressed a hand to his chest and dramatized, “Oh no, it’s the Red Hood!” He shut his eyes and groaned, “I admit it, I killed him. And I’ll consent to a full body search at your perusal, Red Hood.” When he didn’t hear a reply, he cracked an eye open and huffed, “You’re no fun, Nightwing usually plays along.”

Red Hood shifted and dropped to the ground, landing with a heavy thud. “What are you doing back in Gotham, Sentinel?”

“Are you asking me because you’re curious or because Batman told you?”

“I’m doing my job.”

“So, it’s because Batman told you.” he chuckled. “Since when did you become Batman’s errand boy? I thought you didn’t like him.”

“Just answer the question,” Red Hood sighed.

“Fine, fine,” Sentinel relented as he waved a hand. “Two-Face and I had a deal and he backed out of it, so now I’m trying to find him.”

The vigilante crossed his arms over his chest. “What was the deal?”

“Oh, you know, tamper with a few legal proceedings. The usual.”

“And what were you supposed to get in return?”

Sentinel scowled. “An obscene amount of money that he failed to deliver.” He started off towards the doors. “And I plan on getting what I’m owed.”

He could hear Red Hood following him. “Where are you going?”

“Our dearly deceased friend said Two-Face was attending a meeting at the Iceberg Lounge.” He cast a glance over his shoulder. “If they’re discussing territory, I need to do reconnaissance in order to learn where Two-Face is gonna set back up.”

“Want some help?” Sentinel paused and turned back around, practically coming chest to chest with the much taller vigilante.

“What kind of help?” he questioned, testing the waters by toying with the zipper on Red Hood’s jacket. When the vigilante didn’t move, he tugged a little. “Your skill? Or another kindof help?”

“I’m willing to part with both,” Red Hood murmured, reaching up to hold Sentinel’s wrist. “So long as you promise not to kill Two-Face.”

He chuckled and pulled his arm away, turning to leave. “And on that note, I’ll do this on my own.”

“You’re gonna show up to the Iceberg Lounge like that?”

Sentinel turned around as he opened the door. “Of course not.” He winked. “I’m gonna go undercover.” And he was gone.

***

He smoothed the front of his black leather jacket and blue shirt as he stepped into the chilly nightclub; he was glad he actually decided to go with something warm. Lazily scanning the room, he caught sight of the full tables as well as the upper level where people were sitting and smoking expensive cigars. One particular set of doors caught his eye and upon closer inspection, he saw two armed guards standing outside, one wearing Penguin’s gang colors, the other wearing Two-Face’s.

Bingo. He thought and in order to not raise suspicion, he made his way around one of the pillars that gave him the ability to hide, but also to see the double doors as well. One of the thugs had a walkie-talkie on him and he hummed, pulling out a small device from his pocket. He played with it for a moment and when the static cleared, he grinned and raised it to his mouth.

“Aye, you still outside the office?” he asked, watching as Two-Face’s thug grabbed the radio on his thigh.

“Yeah, boss is still in there with Penguin.” He glanced at the other gang member. “Why?”

“Somebody said they saw Batman poking around the area. Go check it out.”

“But we got orders to stay put.”

He frowned. “Orders ain’t gonna mean shit if Batman gets in there and throws the boss back in GCPD, shithead. Get crackin’.”

The two thugs looked at one another then to the door before shrugging and splitting up and leaving the doors wide open. He turned his back and waited for the guard to pass him before he slipped back and walked up to the doors. Quickly, he pressed his ear to it and listened, hearing someone that sounded like Penguin talking on the inside. He smiled and slipped a small device, no bigger than a thumbtack inside the keyhole, pressing it as he pulled his hand away.

“Hey!” someone shouted behind him. He spun and was met with the two thugs, both with angry and suspicious looks on their faces. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled. “I was looking for the restroom.”

“That ain’t it pal,” Penguin’s thug said.

“Right, sorry,” he excused, feigning an apologetic tone. “If you can point me in the direction, I’ll be out of your hair, promise.”

Two-Face’s thug tipped his head to the opposite side of the room. “Back that way.” He took a step forward and thrust the rifle into his face. “Don’t come back around here.”

He nodded resolutely. “You got it, sir.” He quickly fled before they changed their minds and disappeared into the crowd. When he was sure they no longer had eyes on him, he took a seat at the bar and pulled out an earpiece, discreetly slipping it in; he clicked the button on the outside of the piece and the conversation from inside the door flooded his ear.

“Word is that Sentinel is in town, Two-Face. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that now, would you?”

“What? Afraid that he’ll visit you?”

“Hardly. But the rumor mill says that he’s looking for you. Don’t tell me you pulled out on a deal?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t do—

“Is this seat taken?”

The low drawl made him jump slightly and he looked to the side, seeing a man smirking down at him. His eyes momentarily darted to the door before going back to the man’s face.

“Uh, no,” he replied. “It’s open.”

He hummed and sat down. “Thanks. Can I get you a drink?”

He inconspicuously slipped the earpiece from his ear and dropped it into his pocket. “I don’t know. What’s going to impress you? Something fruity? Or something…hard?” he flirted, propping his chin on his palm.

The stranger chuckled. “How about both?”

Grinning, he looked at the bartender. “Sex In The Driveway, please. For both of us.” The server turned and started making their drinks, and he shifted his attention back to the man beside him. “Got a name, handsome?”

“Jason. What’s yours?”

“(Y/N),” he replied, taking a moment to ogle the man. And boy was he pretty. Sharp jawline, killer set of teal eyes, midnight black hair, and oddly enough, a white streak. He had to be ripped under that red shirt and leather jacket he wore, and (Y/N) really wanted to find out. Their drinks were set in front of them, and he reached over, taking a sip of his.

“What brings you to this dingy nightclub? Don’t tell me it’s the scenery.”

Jason grinned. “I don’t know, the scenery right now is pretty nice.” He took the straw into his mouth and sipped, then set the drink down. “Wanted to see if there was anyone I could take home for the night.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh. “Well, aren’t you just upfront about what you want.” He winked. “I like that in a man.” Twirling the straw with his finger, he asked, “You work in Gotham?”

He shrugged. “Mostly, but my job takes me where the money is.” Jason looked at him. “I bet you know what that’s like.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’m originally from Central City.”

“What’s someone from a safe place like Central doing here in Gotham?”

He hummed and turned in his seat so that he was facing Jason. “Just visiting a friend.”

“A boyfriend?” Jason wondered and (Y/N) snorted.

“Nope. No boyfriend for me.” He eyed him. “Yet…what about you? Have anybody waiting at home?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be here.”

“You’re loyal? Isn’t that a charming quality.”

“What can I say? I’m a charming guy to be around.”

(Y/N) drug his foot up the side of Jason’s calf. “Charming indeed.”

Jason’s mouth opened, but (Y/N)’s attention was drawn away by the doors in the back opening, and Two-Face stepping out, followed by Penguin. His mood soured and evidently it showed on his face because he heard,

“Are you okay?” He directed his attention back to Jason who was looking at him with a cocked brow.

“Yeah,” he answered, then pulled his foot away and stood up. “But it’s getting late, and I have to get going.”

“Going back to see your friend?”

(Y/N) laughed. “Something like that.” He paused and gazed at Jason, then asked, “Gotta pen?”

He dug around in his pocket then pulled out a black sharpie and handed it over. “Here.” (Y/N) took Jason’s hand in his own and quickly wrote a set of numbers on the back.

Jason looked at it. “This your cell?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, it’s the number to my favorite Chinese joint down the street.” Grinning, he leaned over and planted a kiss on Jason’s cheek, murmuring, “I’ll be in town another couple days. Gimme a call sometime if you’d like to hangout.”

As he pulled away, he caught those teal eyes narrowed in amusement. “I definitely will, (Y/N).”

When he stepped through the exit, he sighed, knowing that he was going to have to spend hours going over the conversation in order to get a plan figured out. But hey, at least I scored a date. He thought with a grin.

***

“Have fun in lockup, Dent!” He called from the ledge as he watched the gang leader get loaded into the squad car. As they drove off, he checked his phone and smiled as the transactions followed through.

“Another night, another million,” he quipped and just as he was putting his phone away, it pinged. He looked back at it, eyes widening as he read,

So that’s what Sentinel looks like out of uniform? Black jeans and Daphne Blue? I hope you know I’m never not going to think of you when I see that combo now 😊.

(Y/N) froze and stared at his screen, millions of thoughts scrambling around his mind until he settled on, Who is this?

The little birdy you met in the lounge the other night.

He blinked and typed, Jason?

That’d be the little birdy.

How do you know who I am?

On your left, Sentinel.

He immediately looked up and his jaw went slack at the sight of Red Hood standing there, phone in his hand.

“You’re shitting me,” (Y/N) blurted out. His phone pinged.

Told you I was gonna call you.

Red Hood—Jason stowed his phone and walked up to him. “Wanna go get that Chinese you mentioned?”

(Y/N) gaped at him, then he let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, why not? I could eat.”

[scripts4dreamers]

I literally JUST sat down, pt. 1

Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: Nuh uh, nope. Not this again. You did not sign up for this.  Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol, eventual NSFW content

Prompt: After watching 7x07 “This episode is so scary man... Imagine just doing your job which is pretty morbid at times but oh well and then suddenly you have to go to this place where there's a lot of tornadoes and you're like well at least I'm inside and safe and then your boss is like "we gotta go right to these tornado places lol" and then you think "well that's scary but at least we have this handy dandy live map showing us exactly in real time where the tornadoes are so we'll be fine and then the internet is like "haha nope have fun dying in a tornado" 

- @pirateismywayofspeaking​ who is a literal genius.

This will be a multichapter piece! So lemme know if you want to be tagged in subsequent chapters. 

—————————-

Usually, when terrible things happen, people say the same few things: “I never thought it would happen to me! You never think something like this will happen to you until it does!”. You’d never really been that type of person. You were naturally cautious, and an ex FBI agent, you saw danger pretty much everywhere. You’d seen some of the worst things human beings could ever do to one another and, if you’d learned anything at all, it was that bad things happened everywhere and to pretty much everyone. There was nowhere that you could definitively say was safe from violent crime, but this was just ridiculous.

You looked around the ruined bookshop you’d poured the last year of your life into with a kind of detached sadness. Even before you opened the door, you could see the carnage. The shelves were upended, tables flipped, every vase in the building was smashed...except one. You sighed, stepping into the store, your eyes scanning the wreck with a practiced efficiency. No broken windows, the door was still locked when you’d arrived and your security cameras were blacked out, there were no signs of forced entry. If anything that made you more uneasy and, not for the first time since you’d left the bureau, you missed the weight of your gun against your hip. You crinkled your nose against the smell, the copper-iron of fresh blood that you were all too familiar with as you crept through your store.

“Son of a-fuck!” You swore loudly, cursing your luck as you took in the scene.

There was a body laid out in the middle of the Fiction aisle: face covered with a burlap sack, wrists and ankles bound with rope and blood seeping into the carpets you’d just had cleaned. Your training kicked in and you noticed, without meaning to, that the rest of the aisle was untouched. The shelves were upright, books in order, even the vase of white roses you’d put there the night before were all completely the way you’d left them. It was like he’d just completely bypassed the entire section.

Huh.

You looked up at the sky, “Really? Right now? You throw this at me, now? Unbelievable.”

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of your chest, along with a nervousness that you were telling yourself was irritation as you pulled out your phone. It had been a long while since you’d done this, but you still knew the number by heart.

“This is agent Jareau with the Behavioural Analysis Unit.”

“JJ, it’s me,” you said, “you’re not gonna believe this.”

——————————

You sat in the ruins of your store until the cops arrived, wondering who exactly you had murdered in a past life to end up with this kind of luck. You gave your statement without much incident, directing CSU to the body and alerting the detective to the abnormalities you’d spotted.

JJ had promised to get the team on the case as quickly as she could, and you knew JJ tended to get exactly what she wanted in that regard, you just didn’t know how you felt about that. It had been over a year since you’d left the BAU, since you’d done one case too many and just got fed all the way up. It really wasn’t any deeper than that. One day you’d come home and found that you couldn’t sleep. It had all just become too much, so you packed up your stuff, tendered your resignation, and started over.

It had been hard at first, but now you owned a fairly successful bookstore with a little coffee shop where you sold good coffee, and homemade biscuits. And it was nice. You felt good, kinda. You definitely slept better at night. Your life was finally starting to feel normal and now this? A dead body just happens to appear in the center of your bookstore in just weird enough a way to warrant a call to the BAU? No, you’d seen too much to consider this a coincidence. Whether you liked it or not, you were about to get thrown back into your old life head first, the life you’d worked so hard to get some distance from. So why weren’t you more...upset?

“Y/L/N?” A familiar voice called.

“In here,” you answered, your voice raspy from disuse. You cleared your throat and pushed yourself up onto your feet, “I’m in here.” You tried again.

The figures who stepped in were painfully familiar and you couldn’t help the tired smile that slid onto your face, your eyes going directly to the blonde woman walking at the very front.

“Y/N!” She greeted, her voice dripping with relief as she pulled you into a hug, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, JJ,” you assured her as you broke apart, the rest of your old team filing in behind her.

She eyed you like she wasn’t sure, pressing her lips into a thin line as she looked around the trashed store. Derek Morgan swooped in behind her, giving you a second hug.

“Long time, Y/L/N,” he smiled.

You sighed, “Wish it was under better circumstances, Morgs, but I’m glad you guys are here.”

“Y/L/N,” Aaron Hotchner greeted, giving you a firm handshake.

“Thanks for coming, Hotch, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.” You admitted.

“No, you made the right call. The BAU has officially taken on the case. Reid, Prentiss and Rossi are coordinating with the local PD from our headquarters, the rest of us are here to help,” he said, pausing and meeting your eye, silently asking the question you’d been waiting all morning for.

“No sign of forced entry,” you started, “the front door was still locked from the outside when I arrived.” You walked him through the crime scene, glass crunching beneath your feet as you went, “It looks like someone sprayed black paint over the security cameras I had installed, everything’s been smashed but there’s no cash missing from the register. In fact, they barely touched the front desk at all.” You explained, “And this,” you gestured at the Fiction aisle, “is where I found the body.”

Morgan stepped forward and, just like that, the team moved like a well oiled machine.

“White male, looks like he’s between the ages of 19 and 27.” Morgan started.

“His wrists and ankles are bound, but it doesn’t look like he struggled against his restraints at all,” you cut in, without meaning to, crouching down beside the body, “it could mean he was tied up postmortem.”

“We’ll have to wait on the M.E’s report to know for sure,” Hotch agreed, “Y/L/N, can I talk to you?” You nodded and let him pull you aside. He glanced over your shoulder and lowered his voice, “I know you’re out and we can do this investigation without you-“

“But?” You probed.

The corners of Hotch’s mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile, “But, I would also welcome your help if you’re willing to give it. The team is still a man down and, something about this scene has me thinking-“

“That whoever did this isn’t finished,” you agreed, sighing as you ran your fingers through your hair.

Everything was so messed up in your head. You just wanted to go back to bed and start this day all over again. Hotch looked at you and you recognized his brand of quiet concern. It was familiar and comforting, and it helped you process your thoughts.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” you frowned, “yeah. Yeah, sure, I’ll come back.” Hotch smiled and you wagged a finger at him, “But just for this one case! After that I’m straight back to my boring normal person life, alright?”

“Of course,” he agreed, something almost mocking in his tone.

“I’m serious, Hotch, just one more case.”

“I’m agreeing with you!” He insisted, already walking back to the rest of the group.

But he wasn’t and, much to your chagrin, you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as you turned back to the scene of the crime.

“Hotch, Y/L/N,” Morgan called, holding something in his gloved hand, “you’re gonna want to see this.”

“Here we go again,” you sighed.

————————-

Walking back into the BAU had felt like stepping back in time. After you’d gotten everything you could from the crime scene there was nothing to do but brainstorm, but walking through those doors again...well, let’s say you hadn’t been prepared for how it would feel being back. For the most part, everyone had been glad to see you, especially Garcia, but you could tell that there were still some resentments bubbling under the surface. It made sense, the BAU survived by relying on one another, by acting like a family, and you’d left that family.

Still, there was a rhythm to this kind of work, a flow that was almost painfully easy to fall back into. You’d worked together for years after all, bouncing ideas off of one another like it was nothing and that kind of bond didn’t just go away.

“Admit it,” Derek teased, bumping your shoulder with his as you studied the evidence board, “you missed this.”

“I most certainly did not.”

“Oh you so did,” Spencer agreed, leaning against the table next to you and giving you a fond smile, “I’m sorry about the bookstore though, it was the only store in town with a proper selection of classics in their original languages.”

You shrugged, “I’ll get it up and running again soon enough, just as soon as we catch whoever did this.”

“Speaking of our UnSub, what do you think the relevance of him leaving the body in the fiction section is?” Spencer asked.

“Maybe he’s trying to say that this is some kind of fairytale?” Prentiss suggested, “Like he’s trying to draw us into his story?”

“Maybe, but this has gotta be more personal than that, right?” Morgan said, “I mean, this isn’t some body in an alley, it was dumped in an FBI agent’s coffee shop.”

“Ex agent,” you corrected.

“Sure thing, Princess,” Morgan teased.

“Why does everyone keep talking like that?” You asked.

“Because you leaving is ridiculous. You love this job,” He replied simply, “you’ve always loved this job.”

You opened your mouth to respond but, before you could, you heard the clacking of heels against the marble floor.

“Um, guys?” Garcia said, coming into the bullpen with a stormy look on her face, “we just got word from the officer who went to Y/N’s apartment.”

“And?” You asked nervously.

“They found something,”

“Another body?” Prentiss asked.

“No, weirder, a letter and what looks like a smiley face drawn on the wall in blood.” She said, pressing a button to display the new crime scene photos on the big screen.

Your heart froze in your chest.

There it was; a crude smiley face drawn right above your headboard and a crisp white envelope resting against your pillow. He’d made your bed too, some small part of your mind noted. How polite. Instinctively, you crossed your arms over your chest as you were hit with a mixture of panic and disgust.

“Of course,” you sighed, “of course there is. Why wouldn’t there be? It’s been that kind of day.”

“Do we know what the letter says?” Morgan asked.

Garcia nodded, “And it’s a doozy. The letter contains a poem written with letters cut out from magazines and newspapers. It reads:

Since there’s no help, come let us kiss and part.

Nay, I have done, you get no more of me;

And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart,

That thus so cleanly I myself can free.

Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows,

And when we meet at any time again,

Be it not seen in either of our brows

That we one jot of former love retain …”

You could feel your friends staring and you tried to keep your face as neutral as possible. Your skin felt like it was on fire, and you could hear the blood pounding in your ears as you thought of a murderer setting foot in your space; him touching your bed, running his hands over the photos on your nightstand, defiling your possessions with his presence. You’d never felt so vulnerable and exposed, and bile rose up in your stomach like your body was physically rejecting the whole thing. Distantly you heard Prentiss and Morgan discussing theories, and you felt one pair of warm brown eyes staring into the side of your head.

Suddenly, you didn’t feel like joking around anymore.

“Sorry,” you muttered, standing up and striding out of the room without looking back, “I need some air.”

You were so angry by the time you made it out into the courtyard that you’d balled your hands into fists and your breath was coming out in short little bursts. Hot tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and your chest felt painfully tight.

“Y/N?” You heard Spencer ask.

You sniffed, wiping your face quickly, “Reid, hi. Sorry, I just-“ you let out a slow breath, “I needed a break.”

He nodded like he understood, tucking his hands into his pockets as he stepped towards you. You wanted to tell him to go away, to head back inside and leave you the hell alone, but the words wouldn’t come.

It had always been like this with Spencer. No matter how hard you tried to be tough and brave and put together, he saw right through you and broke down your defenses. At one point, he’d been the closest thing to family you’d ever had, in fact you thought you might…..

Well, it didn’t matter now. Over the last year things had changed, you’d grown apart. It happened, but the fondness was still there, and the trust, and those damn eyes.

“I get it, Y/N, I can't even imagine what this whole thing must be like for you,” he said, “having your home be violated like that….and the store?” He shook his head, “I know how hard you worked setting that place up.”

Your bottom lip trembled and, for the first time that day, you let yourself feel afraid as tears slipped down your cheeks.

You shook your head, “You know, when I saw the glass all over the floor, and all the books….I just felt tired, like bone tired. I wasn’t scared of that, but now?” You paused, glancing up at Spencer, as a tear slid down your cheek, “He was in my home, Spencer. He made my bed before he left, he wrote me a letter.”

Spencer worked his jaw and hesitantly reached out, touching your shoulder gently.

“We’ll catch him, Y/N/N, we always do.” He promised.

“And until then?” You asked, “Do I just pretend it never happened? Go home and act like it’s all okay?”

“No,” another voice cut in from behind you, “you rely on us. We’ll take care of you,” Morgan explained.

“Yeah,” Garcia agreed, her big blue eyes clinging to yours, “We’ve talked about it already. You’ll take turns staying with each of us a few nights a week and then, on the weekends, we’ll all stay with Rossi to go over the case. And we’ll spend every free moment tracking this son of a bitch down for you.”

Emily nodded and, for the first time since you had opened your store that morning, you felt your chest swell with something a little like hope. You knew the BAU was special, you knew that the bonds you’d formed over the years were damn near unbreakable, but this? This was too much. Seeing your friends rally around you when you needed them most just reminded you how much you loved them, and how much they still loved you. Even now. Spencer gave your shoulder a squeeze and you smiled back at him.

“I really missed you guys,” you said with a watery laugh.

Penelope crooned and threw her arms around your neck, pulling you into a familiarly bone-crushing hug.

“We missed you too, Sugar Plum,” she promised.

“Really?”

“Hell yeah!” Morgan smiled, joining Penelope’s hug.

“You know we did,” Emily agreed, ruffling your hair and pulling herself in close.

Your eyes found Spencer where he was standing just outside of the group hug, both hands in his pockets and a sad smile on his face. You pressed your lips together and, in response, he nodded.

“We missed you,” he said softly and then, as the hug broke up and you allude your way back inside, even softer, “we still do.”

---------------- 

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes​

[swordlesbean]

rewatching the first 3 eps is kinda frustrating at how much Adora does NOT think about Catra covering for her not even once while she's playing around in beds, plays pinata, eats good food etc, she's gone for days and like Catra says later didn't even think she was taking the fall for her damn. and didn't even spare a glance at Catra while celebrating with her new driends at selinas

This is actually something I've wanted to talk about for a long time, so thanks for giving me an excuse to finally do it! I think when people are annoyed with Adora for supposedly not thinking about Catra in early s1, they aren't giving full consideration to Adora's perspective during that time period. She's, uh... dealing with a lot, to say the least. There's been a fair amount of analysis about Catra's perspective during this time, but not nearly as much about Adora's. I will try to remedy that here, in my typically long-winded way.

Let's take it from the beginning. Adora touches a mysterious sword in the woods that gives her visions and makes her black out. She’s still having these visions and hearing voices when she’s back home, so she sneaks out at night to find the sword again because she wants answers. Reasonable. She plans to be back by morning, but she asks Catra to stay behind because she doesn't want Catra getting in trouble on her behalf in case something goes wrong. Also reasonable. Boom, nothing goes according to her plan, and everything goes wrong.

Adora finds the sword, but runs into Rebellion soldiers. She tries to fight them for the sword, but when she touches it, she has another vision and blacks out again. She wakes up with her hands tied, a prisoner. She bides her time instead of trying to escape because she still wants the sword. During this time, she's told information that conflicts with what she knows about the Horde, and oh yeah, she somehow randomly transforms into an 8-foot-tall legendary warrior princess. Then she and her captors get chased by a giant spider to an abandoned temple, which she’s able to open because she can apparently read a long-dead language, but then they’re trapped in the ruins.

Once they get out, she’s no longer being held captive, so she can now go back to the Horde. But she needs answers and decides to go to Bright Moon so someone can give her an explanation for all this crazy shit happening to her. At this point, is she thinking about Catra and what might be happening back home? No. But frankly, there is a lot on her plate! Like, life changing stuff. She can turn into a princess! But princesses are evil and the enemy! But this angry sparkly princess and nice archer guy are saying the Horde are actually the bad guys? What is going on? What is she?

Adora still intends to go back to the Horde, but she feels she can't do that until she gets more intel about what happening to her and what it means. She’s always wanted to know more about where she came from. This may be her only chance. And even though her overprotective streak sometimes makes Catra think she feels otherwise, Adora absolutely believes in Catra and knows she's smart and resourceful and can handle herself, so it doesn't occur to Adora that there's reason to worry.

Then Thaymor happens. They stop there for transportation, but Bow insists they stay for the party because he realizes Adora's life has been utterly depressing, and he wants her to experience something nice. I think it's pretty harsh to hold it against Adora that she gets excited and awed and distracted by encountering a party and eating good food for the very first time in her life ever. Can the girl please be allowed to live a little? Like, she's an anxious, guilt-ridden, duty-burdened mess 90% of the time, so let's maybe not blame her for having a good time for once.

That good time is pretty quickly ruined anyway. Reality ensues. The Horde ensues. Catra ensues. But even as Thaymor is attacked, Adora thinks it's a mistake. It's bad intel; she just has to explain, and the Horde will stop. It's only when she comes face to face with Catra that she understands the truth about the Horde and makes her decision to leave. Let’s be clear on this: Adora doesn't just leave the Horde without any consideration for Catra. Catra isn’t an afterthought here, she is literally standing right in front of Adora when Adora makes her decision.

Thaymor from Adora's perspective is finding out that her whole life has been a lie and that she doesn't know her best friend as well as she thought. What Adora sees is Catra being part of an attack on defenseless people and seeming to have zero concern or regret about it. What she perceives is Catra refusing to join the good guys and choosing to remain part of a lying, destructive army despite the truth of a burning village in front of them. What she feels is Catra disregarding her decision to leave and tasing her in the back as she tries to walk away.

It's important to remember that in this moment, Adora feels betrayed by Catra as much as Catra feels betrayed by Adora. People always talk about Adora breaking their promise by choosing to leave, but Catra breaks it too by choosing to stay. They both make decisions that hurt the other, and they both feel abandoned.

So that's what Adora is carrying with her in regards to Catra in early s1. She's internalized this betrayal, these hurt feelings, but she's also really trying not to let herself feel any of it. Not just because it hurts, but because it’s what she’s been taught to do. She’s well-practiced in denying herself, denying her pain and her wants and needs. This trait of hers is given specific attention in s5, but it's a necessary lens to view Adora through in every season. She won't ever put herself and her feelings first. She doesn't think she's allowed to be weak, to feel hurt and express that hurt, not when more important things are at stake. Shadow Weaver always said her feelings for Catra were a problem, and for the first time, Adora agrees, so she tries not to feel them.

She can also avoid thinking about Catra because she has so much to distract her. Catra is still in the Horde, surrounded by reminders of Adora, so it's impossible for her not to think of Adora. But Adora's situation is different. She's in a new environment, suddenly overwhelmed by a huge destiny and all these new experiences and stimuli and social dynamics she has never experienced in her life. So she puts all of her attention into learning the rules and expectations of this new life. She hyperfocuses on her duty as She-Ra.

That doesn't mean there aren't reminders of the past. Adora doesn't feel comfortable sleeping alone, and the clear implication is that she can't sleep without Catra. She isn't "playing around in beds," she just has no idea what to make of a soft bed because she's used to austere conditions. And she's certainly not able to forget what the Horde represents to the people she's now living with. She gets run out of Bright Moon because of the Horde symbol on her back, and she receives a thinly veiled threat from Angella in front of Micah's portrait. She doesn't feel secure in her place in the Rebellion, so she's definitely not going to talk about missing anything or anyone from the Horde, however much of it she actually lets herself feel.

Salineas is the first time Adora encounters Catra after Thaymor, and the wounds from that confrontation are still fresh. She asked Catra to come with her then, but all it got her was a taser to the back, so she's not feeling too charitable towards Catra and isn't keen on reaching out again. She's completely in She-Ra duty mode, trying to restore the Sea Gate to protect the kingdom from the Horde. But then, Catra isn't making real efforts to try and bridge the gap between them either. In fact, from Adora’s perspective, she appears to be perfectly happy widening it. 

While Adora is fixing the gate, she’s getting hit with electric feedback and also can't risk moving or fighting back, but that doesn’t stop Catra from lashing out at her. Catra mocks, scratches, punches. Even when she softens up a bit, she talks like Adora is just going through a phase. She's trying to convince Adora to come back to the Horde, but in the same way Adora wasn’t thinking about what Catra might face by covering for her while she was away, Catra’s not thinking about what it would actually mean for Adora to come back, the terrible consequences she would face as a defector.

Adora knows she can’t go back to the Horde, not just because of her morals, but also because it’s too late to do so without something bad happening to her. So she wonders, if Catra cares about her, why would she want to bring her back to that? If Catra cares about her, why won’t she just leave the Horde and come with Adora? Adora can't see into Catra's mind, so she doesn't know the underlying motivations and feelings driving her behavior. And Adora’s never really had the "you hurt me, so I'll hurt you back" impulse, so she’s more inclined to read Catra's aggressive actions towards her as a sign that Catra maybe doesn’t care about her as much as she once thought.

After Salineas, things continue to heat up between them during Princess Prom. This time Adora is highly confrontational towards Catra. She fully believes Catra is planning something bad, and she's absolutely right, though she still tries to save Catra's life when they fall off the cliff. That act doesn't seem to matter to Catra, and she ups the ante and hurts Adora worse then ever by taking Glimmer and Bow as hostages. 

Adora finally softens towards Catra when Catra returns the sword and let's her and Glimmer escape the Fight Zone. Up until that moment, Adora isn't sure that Catra still cares, but this is confirmation for her. The next time they meet, Adora makes a real effort to reach out, and she again asks Catra to leave the Horde. And they actually do start reconnecting a little, until Light Hope plays on Catra's insecurities with those memory simulations, in an attempt to drive them apart and get Adora to let go of Catra in the same way Shadow Weaver always wanted her to. 

And it does successfully drive them further apart and is the true beginning of Catra’s descent into villainous self-destruction and reality-destroying levels of resentment towards Adora. But what it doesn’t do is get Adora to let go of Catra. Because it doesn't matter what Light Hope and Shadow Weaver and even Catra say or do, Adora never can let go. She does eventually let go of the idea that she's the one responsible for Catra's actions, and she puts up boundaries and becomes harder towards Catra. But she never truly gives up on her or stops caring about her, even when Catra is at her most destructive and spiteful and personally hurtful towards Adora. 

But then, Adora letting go of her feelings for Catra wasn't ever the solution anyway. Because She-Ra's power comes from love, and Catra is the first person Adora loved, and the person she loves the most deeply. So Adora as She-Ra is at her most powerful when she's loving Catra and doing it without conflict, either between the two of them or within Adora herself.

[miracleonice87]

I’ll Take Care of You, part two

a Tyler Seguin fic

a/n: this one’s from Peyton’s perspective. back in the fall when I first started writing fics again, I wrote part one in first person, which I don’t really do anymore, but I’m keeping that consistent for this one. read part one here first if you haven’t already. 

tw: fainting, mention of miscarriage/loss of pregnancy/infertility/periods

“Unfortunately, it’s not uncommon for this to occur with first pregnancies. It happens more often than you might think. It certainly doesn’t mean you won’t ever be able to have a baby. My rule of thumb is to let couples try to get pregnant again naturally for one year without any intervention. Then, if you’re still having difficulties, you can come back in and we can talk about other options.”

It had been eleven months since my doctor had spoken those words to Tyler and me following the miscarriage that had nearly broken us both.

Those eleven months had seen us try again and again each month with no success. I tracked my body temperature and ovulation cycle each and every day before even leaving bed. I’d completely removed alcohol and caffeine from my diet and monitored everything I put into my body, controlling every single factor I could possibly control.

And yet, on the thirteenth day — the unluckiest of days for multiple reasons — of each month, like clockwork, my period arrived. If Tyler was at home when it happened, I simply left the bathroom with a sorrowful shake of my head, curling into his waiting arms as he comforted me silently, holding me close, disappointment weighing heavily on us both. If he was on the road, I texted him only a “🔴” symbol, indicating that my monthly visitor had shown up unwelcome yet again. He replied each time with an, ”I’m sorry, sweetheart,” though he had nothing at all to apologize for.

My patience and determination, along with Tyler’s, were wearing thin. It was feeling more and more impossible to keep the faith — more and more unlikely that this would happen on its own.

I had all but given up hope.

But then...

The eleventh month arrived, and the thirteenth day of it came and went with no sign of my cycle. And then the fourteenth day. And then the fifteenth.

And with that, the smallest sliver of hope glimmered from out of the darkness in the depths of my heart.

But I wouldn’t allow myself to get too excited. With Tyler on a road trip to the East Coast, I barely slept those three nights, tossing and turning and wondering if I should take one of the numerous tests stuffed in the bathroom cabinet.

On the sixteenth, after Tyler had already left for morning skate, I decided it was time. Though I knew I couldn’t do it alone, I also couldn’t stomach the thought of waiting for Ty to return — let alone the thought of seeing his disappointment in the event of yet another negative test.

Thankfully, though, the sixteenth was a Friday — the day that Fanny, Klinger’s fiancée, and I had long ago set aside for morning yoga in my home gym. Fanny, now six months pregnant herself with her and John’s first baby, would arrive at 10 a.m., and I decided that that was as good a time as any to find out what was next for Ty and me — we would either finally start the family we’d always wanted, or it would be time for a different approach.

After greeting one another and stretching over small talk, Fanny carefully broached the topic that I had brought to her, heartbroken, so many times in the past year.

“So how have you been feeling?” she inquired gently from the mat next to mine, bending to the side for a new pose. “Are you on your cycle?”

From where I stood with my arms extended straight out, my face turned away from hers, I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and pondered what to say next.

“Well,” I began before clearing my throat, “That’s, um... I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

You pivoted to face Fanny, her pretty eyes now wide as saucers. Slowly, she stood up straight.

“Stop it,” Fanny whispered incredulously, joy etched in her expression.

I shrugged a bit. “I’m late,” I admitted softly. “But only by three days. And I haven’t taken a test-“

“Peyton!” Fanny warned through her giggles, hands finding her hips. “You have to!”

I smiled, appreciating my dear friend’s excitement for me while still feeling the familiar tightness of anxiety in my gut.

“I will,” I promised. “I seriously told myself I was gonna wait to do it while you were here. I couldn’t do it alone and I... if I’m not... well, I just can’t bear to see Ty’s reaction again…”

Fanny nodded solemnly. “Oh, sweetie. I understand,” she assured. “Maybe after we finish up? Or not. I mean, we can do it whenever you feel ready.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling overheated and attributing it to my frayed nerves.

“God, is it hot in here?” I asked, unzipping my lightweight jacket and throwing it aside, still fanning myself though I now wore only a sports bra and athletic shorts.

Fanny frowned, looking at my reflection in the mirrored wall in front of us. “No, I feel fine,” she said.

I tied my ponytail into a high bun to get the hair off my neck, noting a faint ringing in my ears as I placed my feet in position on the mat once more.

As I reached down for my toes, the ringing grew louder, and I suddenly saw stars in my vision.

With trembling hands, I wiped the sweat from my now-dripping brow and stood straight up, but apparently too quickly, as the room around me quickly fell from focus, darkness taking its place.

“Fan... I-I don’t feel good...”

Alarmed at the weakness of my voice, Fanny turned to face me and gasped.

“Babe, oh my god!” she exclaimed — the last thing I heard before everything faded to black.

_____

The next thing I heard as I came to was my husband’s voice, which sounded distant and faint. I moaned, squinting at the bright fluorescent lights above me as I realized that I was lying on my back on the floor, with Tyler’s face inches above mine. I opened my eyes slowly and heard him draw a deep breath, announcing, “She’s awake.”

I felt him cup my cheek tenderly as I offered a weak smile.

“Hi,” he breathed, relief heavy in his tone. “Hi, sweet girl. You scared us pretty good.”

“What happened?” I asked, confused by the hoarseness of my own voice. I moved to prop myself up on my elbows, but Tyler gently pushed my shoulders flat once more.

“Shh, shh, hey, don’t get up,” he instructed. “You passed out while you and Fanny were working out. Do you remember that?”

With a furrowed brow, I nodded. I saw Fanny standing behind Tyler, covering her lips with her fingers as she stared at me nervously.

“Oh god, Fan, I’m so sorry,” I murmured, still feeling weak and shaky.

Fanny shook her head and took a couple of steps forward, standing over Tyler’s shoulder. “Babe, no, don’t apologize,” she insisted. “I was just worried about you. Tyler came in the door just a minute after it happened but I had already called 911. I just didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry.”

I nodded, my eyes fluttering closed once more. “That’s okay,” I said softly.

Just then, there was a knock at the door upstairs, and Fanny hurried up the steps to answer it. I rolled my head to look at Tyler, who stared down at me with deep concern.

“You’re gonna be okay, baby,” he promised, pushing some hair from my still-damp forehead. “We’re gonna get you checked out and see what’s going on, okay?”

I nodded as I heard footsteps coming back down the stairs, and two paramedics followed Fanny to where I lay, still on my yoga mat.

“Hey there,” one of them smiled. “I’m Maria, and this is my partner, Chris. You’re Peyton?”

I nodded as Maria knelt beside me, opposite Tyler, with Chris placing a medic kit on the floor next to him.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Peyton,” Maria said kindly. “How are you feeling right now?”

I cleared my throat, attempting to blink the fog away.

“Not as bad as I did a few minutes ago,” I half-joked. “But I still feel shaky, and hot.”

Maria nodded, pressing the stethoscope to my chest.

“Can you tell me what you’ve had to eat and drink today?” she asked.

“Um... I had two cups of coffee, a yogurt... and some water during yoga,” I replied.

“Okay,” Maria said as Chris took my pulse, with Tyler holding tight to my other hand and watching their every move. “Any history of fainting before this?”

I shook my head. “No, never,” I said.

“Any blood sugar issues? Diabetes, hypoglycemia?”

“No, nothing.”

“Are you currently on your period?”

My cheeks warmed. This certainly wasn’t the way I had planned to tell Tyler of our latest development.

“Um, n-no,” I admitted sheepishly, glancing at him. I could see the wheels beginning to turn in his mind even as he watched the paramedics instead of me.

“Any chance you could be pregnant?” Maria asked gently as she folded her stethoscope into her bag and reached for a blood pressure cuff.

Shit.

“Uh… actually, yeah.”

Immediately, Tyler’s head snapped toward me.

“Wait, what? Really?” he inquired, joy exuding from his whole being.

I simply shrugged, beaming. “I’m late.”

A small, knowing smile crossed Maria’s face. She wrapped the cuff around my arm and began to squeeze the pump.

“Okay, well, that could be the reason,” Maria noted. “Sometimes when you’re early in a pregnancy, your body might not be getting all the extra rest and nutrients and hydration it needs. It happens sometimes, and often, it’s no big deal.”

I nodded, reaching for Tyler’s hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I said with a scrunched nose. “I just didn’t want to get my hopes up, let alone yours.”

Tyler brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.

“It’s okay,” he told me with a shake of his head. “I get it.”

I smiled gratefully, and Maria removed the cuff from my arm.

“Your blood pressure is a little low, which doesn’t surprise me,” she said. “Again, this can happen. Just to be safe, I wanna take you to the hospital for an EKG and monitor you for a bit, and we’ll do a pregnancy test there too, okay?”

I nodded, looking to Tyler for reassurance.

“It’s okay,” he said, knowing exactly what I needed to hear. “I’ll be right there with you.”

_____

One ambulance ride later, with Tyler beside me and Fanny following behind in my car, I had arrived at the emergency department and was being poked and prodded and hooked up to a plethora of monitors. A cardiologist soon confirmed that everything was fine with my heart, and my pregnancy test was then the only result that hung in the balance.

I sat propped up on pillows in the hospital bed, Tyler standing at my side as we waited in silence.

Out of nowhere, tears formed in my eyes, and I tried to swipe at them without Tyler noticing — a futile attempt. When he heard my faint whimper, he stepped closer and gathered me into his arms, kissing the top of my head.

“Hey, hey,” he spoke softly. “What is it, baby?”

“I’m scared, Ty,” I whispered, head buried in his chest. “Whether it’s positive or negative. I’m just scared.”

“I know, babe,” he replied, slowly caressing my back. “It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared, too. You’ve been through hell.”

“We’ve been through hell,” I corrected, sniffling as I looked up at him. Tyler nodded and smoothed his thumb along my jaw.

“We just have to believe that everything is gonna work out this time,” he told me as he kissed my forehead. “Good things are coming, Peyt. I can feel it.”

After several more minutes, my nurse, a sweet woman named Beth who spoke with a thick Texas accent, entered the room holding my chart. I could actually hear my own heartbeat in my ears, this time not because I felt faint, but because I was overwhelmed with anticipation.

“Well, Miss Peyton…” Beth began with a smile. “Congratulations. You’re gonna be a mama.”

I let out a sob and covered my mouth with my hand immediately, and Tyler choked out a breathless laugh. His hands grasped my face as he kissed me firmly.

“You hear that? We’re having a baby,” he whispered, eyes glossy with tears. “God, I love you so much.”

I giggled excitedly. “I love you, too, baby daddy,” I replied, causing Tyler to chuckle, too.

As Beth looked on with a grin, she wrote a few things down on my chart, then said, “Congratulations, you two. I’ll give you some privacy. Peyton, honey, we’ll be back around to check on you in about half an hour, okay?”

I nodded, tears streaking my face. “Yes, yes, thank you,” I spoke. “Thank you so much.”

With a kind nod, she left the room, pulling the sliding glass door closed behind her.

Before the door was even shut, Tyler’s lips found mine once more, his fingers holding my cheeks reverently. Eventually, I pulled away for a breath.

“You were right,” I told him, nudging his nose with mine.

Still completely giddy, he asked with a smile, “What was I right about?”

I reached a hand up to work my fingers through his curls. “You told me good things are coming,” I reminded, voice quivering. “You were right.”

Tyler was overcome with emotion once again and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. For the longest time, we stayed that way, embracing with only the sounds of soft, happy cries filling the room.

_____

eight months later...

“Are you the most handsome little man in the whole wide world? Hmm? I think so,” Tyler spoke to the tiny baby he held in his arms. “I think you’re just the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled from my hospital bed, feeling more exhausted and more in love than I ever knew I was capable of.

“And it’s a good thing you look like your mommy,” Tyler added, smirking at me before kissing the baby’s forehead — our baby’s forehead. “Uncle Jamie is gonna say that too. Yes, he is. I might as well beat him to it, huh?”

I chuckled, patting the mattress beneath me and gesturing for Tyler to join me.

“Bring him back over here,” I pleaded. “I miss him already.”

Tyler hummed knowingly and rose from his chair, carefully cradling the baby in his arms.

“I know,” he said. “I miss him, too, and I’m literally holding him. How is that possible?”

I smiled. “Because having kids means your heart walks around outside of your body,” I spoke, kissing our boy’s chubby cheek as Tyler took his place on my bed. “That’s what my grandmother used to say.”

He nodded. “You’re damn right,” he said, shaking his head. “I feel it already. I never knew it was possible to feel this way, Peyt. As bad as we wanted a baby, as much as it hurt when we lost the first one...” Tyler choked up as he spoke of the loss we’d experienced now almost two years ago. After a pause, he continued. “I still just never thought it would feel this incredible.”

I curled my hands around his arm and kissed his bicep. “Me either,” I admitted airily. “I’ll never forget the pain we felt then. And that baby will always be our first. But this... this is the best day of my life.”

Tyler beamed, wrapping one arm around my waist while cradling the baby to his chest with his other.

“So, are we decided on this little man’s name?” Tyler asked as I touched the baby’s pouted lips, making us both giggled at his expression.

“I think so,” I confirmed, leaning my head against his shoulder. “Are you still thinking what I’m thinking?”

Tyler looked down at me with hooded eyes, full of adoration, and nodded. “If you’re sure,” he spoke.

I’d been sure for a few months now, since the first day that I allowed myself to browse a baby name book, still riddled with fear of the unknown, while also waiting expectantly and with hope for our new journey ahead. I didn’t get far, only to the B’s, when I found the perfect name... one that meant blessed. 

As I peered down at the boy in my arms, no name seemed more fitting than that one I’d whispered into being long ago. 

“I’m sure,” I replied confidently. I cradled the baby’s head in my hand and pressed my lips to his forehead. “Welcome to our world, Bennett Tyler Seguin,” I whispered, overjoyed and humbled to finally have the privilege of having a son to name not only for his daddy, but also for the precious, long-awaited gift he was to us.

“Our boy,” Tyler whispered reverently.

[jojosbizarreblog]

Why hello there. ☆ Your blog is awesome. I just read the crush sharing a bed with the Stardust Crusaders. Omg it's perfect! So um I have a request so the fem reader is travelling with the Stardust Crusaders. She totally has a huge crush on Avdol but this gets out of hand when she accidentally sees him with his hair down and Joseph takes note of the reader being super flustered and blushing. Thank you so much for doing my request. I hope you have fun with it. I also hope you have a lovely day.

(Askdfijjjrw thank you for the compliments dear Anon! I hope you’re having a wonderful day/ night wherever you are too)

Hair Ties

You have a bad crush on Avdol, and it only gets worse when you see him with his hair down. Unfortunately, a certain old Joestar sees it and decides to take action.

Being forced to all room together was something to be expected when traveling on this trip, but you didn’t think it would be this hard. There were two small beds, claimed by Jotaro and Polnareff because you didn’t think the bed could physically fit nor handle two people on it, and one single shower that was occupied by Avdol. A pile of blankets and pillows sat in the corner, ready for the taking. The single blessing you could take from this was the carpeted floor and the cleanliness of the room, even though it was small.

You watched Kakyoin and Polnareff squabble over who would get the next shower, thankful that Avdol had let you go before him earlier. It certainly wouldn’t have been nice to have to try and fight those two for a shower. The two Joestars were out getting food for the group, leaving you on your own lonesome as you began setting up a sleeping corner.

“Hey (Y/n) tell Polnareff that he doesn’t need to go first. He takes forever.” Kakyoin said, turning to you.

You froze like a deer in headlights. Playing as a mediator between two children was not something that you thought you would play tonight. “Uhhhhhhh.”

Thankfully, you didn’t need to break up the fight as the doors to the hotel room opened, the two Joestars entering with bags in hand and Joseph announcing their arrival loudly. And the fight was forgotten as Polnareff rushed to take one from Joseph, helping the old man to set up the food on the small table. As you rose up to move to the table, the doors to the showers opened, and out came Avdol.

You turned to greet the fortune-teller. “Hey, Avdol! Just in time! Mr. Joestar and Jotaro—” your voice broke off halfway as you saw Avdol with a towel hung around his shoulders, water dripping off his wet hair. He was dressed casually, his coat draped on one arm and dressed 

“(Y/n)?” Avdol asked with a tilt of his head.

“O-Oh right—Yeah, yeah. Uh, Mr. Joestar and Jotaro brought back some food!” You laughed nervously, trying your hardest not to stare at the open collar of his loose shirt.

Avdol let out an ‘ah’ and moved past you to drape his coat onto the free chair, his arm brushing against yours as the group gathered around the table. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him as you guys sat down to eat. Someone cleared their throat across from you and a shoe nudged your shin. Straightening up the slightest bit, you glanced across the table to see Joseph grinning at you and wriggling his eyebrows.

You nearly choked on your food, letting out a quick cough to clear out the bit of food. Avdol paused to pat your back gently and you nearly got sent into another coughing fit. “Are you alright?”

Nodding, you swiped the cup of water that Joseph passed you, chugging it down and glaring at Joseph as you set the cup down. “I’m good Avdol, don’t worry. Thank you for the water, Mr. Joestar.” You squinted at him as you emphasized the last part.

The said man just laughed and nodded, seemingly ignoring your jab. “Of course, of course!”

The rest of the meal was passed in relative silence, albeit Joseph kept on smiling and winking at you. It seemed like only Jotaro noticed the old man’s antics shooting him a weirded-out look and glancing at you in question. You simply shrugged at the black-haired male’s silent questions, unwilling to bring to light your little problem.

“You know,” Joseph drawled as he helped clear the table. “Sometimes I have trouble staying still at night, so I’m afraid that if I sleep in between (Y/n) and Avdol, I'd hit them with my flailing limbs. Why don’t I move outside so that you two can enjoy a good night’s rest?”

A good night’s rest your ass. You knew exactly what Joseph was planning, his cheeky smile only making you more irritated as Avdol agreed to the plans and forcing you to squeeze out a ‘yes’.

It seemed that the other Crusaders were none the wiser as they each settled in their respective sleeping places. You stared at the ceiling above you as the lights turned off and the heat of Avdol’s body settled next to you. 

“Good night (Y/n).”

“Yeah—Good night to you too, Advol!”

***

Muffled snoring and a weight on your hips were what you woke up to. You were tempted to fall back asleep until the weight on your hips moved. 

It was an arm.

Your eyes snapped open and you tensed, all the sleep vanishing from your body. You almost pulled away until you realized who was behind you.

“(Y/n)?” Avdol’s groggy voice asked you and your heart thumped. 

His arm left your waist in a hurry as you turned round to face him. Your breath was almost taken from you when you saw him. His dark hair was spread out underneath him, dark curls framing his sleepy features. How he could look so good upon waking was a mystery to you. Avdol gave you a small, tired smile and you shot back a flustered one in return.

“Morning, Avdol,” you said in a low voice, careful to not wake the others up.

“Good morning. How did you sleep?”

“Just fine, you?”

“Great, especially next to you.”

Your mind blanked for a moment and a surprised ‘oh’ left your mouth. A stunned moment of silence passed before you brought your hands up to your face to try and hide it. 

“I-I...”

A small laugh escaped him. “I hope you feel the same about me.”

Bringing your hands down, you nodded. Avdol brightened and a small grin pulled at his face. He leaned forward to press a small kiss to your forehead. You let out a flustered noise as he wrapped his arm around you.

A rogue pillow came from where Jotaro was and hit the wall above you, sliding down to a stop behind your back. “Shut up,” the black-haired male slurred, still sounding like he was half-asleep.

“Come on Jotaro, let them be,” Joseph chuckled and you slowly realized that the whole group was awake.

“How long have you guys been up?” You asked them, dreading the answer.

“About an hour now,” Joseph replied.

“I woke up three minutes ago,” Polnareff drawled.

“Me too,” Kakyoin muttered.

God, you were never going to live this down.

[cellard0ors]

WHELP.

No one hated this. so, it's continuing. I have no title as of yet. Still dedicated to @lallyloo

Part 1 here

Rhett used to live closer.

Now he doesn’t.

Link knows there are a variety of factors that went into the move, and he respects them. Still, it was nice before - when he didn’t have to travel so far. Now here he is, driving out into the middle of nowhere to see someone who used to be a short distance away.

Everything used to be…closer.

Sometimes Link looks back, riffles through his memories and it’s almost painful. It’s not that the memories are bad per say, it’s more how they feel. So close and so far – recent, yet ages ago. It’s an uncomfortable dichotomy, so he does his best to just concentrate on the present.

And, presently, he’s pulling up to a tiny little cabin surrounded by towering California redwoods. His car crunches loudly over the gravel drive - loud enough to summon his friend, even if his hearing’s declining. Although - to be fair, Link’s hearing is not the greatest either.

Hearing, sight, the combined ache of your muscles and bones - yeah, getting older is a real bitch. Not a word Link likes to say, much less think, but facts are facts. Age isn’t pretty, albeit there are some advantages. One of which being that you can pretty much go and do whatever you please, whenever you please.

Especially if you made a rather lucrative creative endeavor at one point. Mythical Morning may be gone, but the capital earned is doing its job of keeping him cushy in his golden years. Rhett as well, who certainly couldn’t have afforded this place otherwise and as he emerges from his home he offers a wave.

Link returns it, but finds he has to fight off a scowl. Really, it’s not fair. Link went silver early and he always thought he looked pretty damned handsome with it- a total silver fox.

But Rhett?

Well, Rhett always did have a history of beating him.

He might have gone silver later, but damned if he doesn’t wear it better. His beard is neatly trimmed, long hair tied back and he looks like some kind of rugged highlander cowboy combo that could get away with being on the cover of one of those old romance novels Christy used to thumb through.

…terrible…

A man his age shouldn’t look so good.

Rhett shouldn’t look so good.

And considering what Link’s come here to talk about he really doesn’t want to think about that right now.

Focus on the present, Neal, he reminds himself, shaking his head while he parks. When he gets out Rhett charges up, one hand out for a shake, which Link takes and then the two share a brief, back slapping hug.

“How ya been, brother?”

“Told you last night - tired and tired of being tired. You?”

“Same,” Rhett chuckles, “but figured if you were makin’ the drive up here, there might be more to say.”

There is, but Link’s not ready for it, instead clearing his throat while moving towards the two rocking chairs near the porch, “Mind if I-?”

“Help yourself,” Rhett says with an expansive gesture and the two end up seated and looking out over the wilderness. Link’s been here before. They’ve done this before. Just sat in these chairs and shot the shit. But today, Link finds himself a little more riled than usual, a little stiffer, and Rhett must pick up on it, because he sighs, “You might as well spit it out.”

“Spit what out?”

“Whatever it is you’re trying to avoid, bo,” Rhett says and he’s got a cooler of sprite nearby. He grabs a can and cracks it open, taking a swig before continuing, “We can sit here and waste time until you work up the nerve or-”

“I have the nerve!” Link cries but Rhett just goes on as if he hasn’t been interrupted, “-you can just spill. Probably feel better after.”

“Doubt that,” Link grouses and reaches into the cooler to get his own drink. Because Rhett managed to call him out so smoothly, so quickly, he decides to take his time on purpose. What was it Lily said? Be ‘deliberately obtuse’? It’s not quite what he’s doing now, but close enough.

Rhett, unbothered by Link’s act of defiance, merely sips his can and rests in his chair - annoyingly regal and relaxed. Sometimes Link really hates him. But it’s the kind of hate that’s so tangled up with affection that it’s irritating beyond measure, so he just stews over his own soda and waits.

For the longest time, it feels like neither will break the silence, but - considering Link came here to see Rhett and not the other way around - he decides (very graciously, he might add) to bend first, “Is it ever hard on you?”

One of Rhett’s eyebrows wing upwards, “Is what ever hard on me?”

Link shifts about, suddenly wishing these wooden chairs had some cushion, “The whole,” he waves a hand around them, “lonely woodsman thing?”

“…you think I’m lonely?”

“Well, I mean…” Link feels very tongue tied and very stupid and he doesn’t want to somehow inadvertently insult or hurt his friend, “Do you-? Do you ever think about how-how things changed?”

Rhett shrugs easily, “Things change, Link. That’s just life. Nature.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Link grumbles, “But I mean-? I’m more like-?” he growls under his breath because he’s annoyed that he can’t articulate his thoughts easily, “You and Jessie…”

“What about me and Jessie?”

“I mean…you were married…”

“We were?” Rhett asks the last as if it’s a hugely shocking revelation and Link hopes his expression manages to convey how he feels about that kind of response, “Yes. You and Jessie were married and then, y'know, um, you-you weren’t and I-I guess I just wondered if-if-?”

Rhett takes a deep pull on his sprite before sighing, “Are you asking if I’m lonely without Jessie?”

“Uh…sort of? Or, I mean, more-more directly - did you ever think this…this is how it would end up.”

“Gosh, no,” Rhett laughs and the corners of his eyes crinkle in that way that always makes Link’s heart twirl a little, “No, I sure didn’t. But; mean, ’s like I said, things change. So do people. Jessie and I loved one another, but,” he shrugs again, “Kids grew up, moved out, and when it was just me and her we’d found things’d changed.”

“But…” Link sounds sort of lost, “How?”

Rhett’s narrows his eyes at him, “Man, you know how. We’ve talked about this! She and I were just…different people than we used to be. Different from who we were when we got married and all. It wasn’t bad - we still loved one another. But there just…”

He rolls his shoulders and sighs again, one big hand rubbing at the back of his neck, “Wasn’t that spark anymore. I love her. Still do. Heck, we still talk - just spoke to her last week! But being in love with her?”

The last is asked in a way that pretty much answers itself. Link gets it. He does understand it. And as Rhett said – they’ve talked about this before. Back when it first happened, even. Link knows the story. He knows it and he knows it and yet…

“I guess, I’m…well, I’m-I’m just asking because you-you live up here all by yourself and I…I live by myself and…”

Rhett’s heavy lidded eyes take on this sad, soulful look, one that makes Link’s throat close up around his words, “That what this really about, brother? You thinkin’ about Christy again? You really the lonely one?”

“Yes,” Link blurts and, sort of horrified that he did, rushes on, “And no. No, mean…this-this isn’t about Christy…this-this is about Lily.”

Rhett’s eyes widen and his head rears back, the confusion on his face paramount, “Okay, alright then - color me perplexed, 'cause I don’t see how my being lonely and then your being lonely has anything to do with your daughter.”

“Lily thinks we should go out!” Link squeaks loudly and hoo boy! Bad enough the words came out in that sharp of a tone, but he also Did. Not. Mean. To. Say. Them!

He was planning on working into it in a far more casual manner. Maybe even jokingly. Like, 'Hey, my daughter thinks we should go out! Isn’t that a laugh riot?’ Or 'So, my children are conspiring against us!’ Or really anything - any way - different than how it came out just now.

Rhett, for his part, doesn’t seem all that rocked by this announcement, “Oh. Um. Alright. Sounds good.”

“Sounds good?!” And wow. Just wow. Link thought he sounded squeaky and loud before. That came out even worse. Mickey-Mouse-sucked-on-helium-and-went-hysterical worse. Rhett must have misunderstood, right? Right?!

As if sensing the question, Rhett finishes off his sprite and tosses the can in a nearby trash can, “Sure. We can go out. Where you wanna go? Wouldn’t mind takin’ a trip. Been an age since we done it.”

His reply confirms Link’s thinking and he deflates, but only a smidge, because he now knows he still has to explain, “No, no, no. I-I mean she wants us to go out. As-as in out out.”

Watching the realization dawn on Rhett’s face should be funny. It really should. More so when he asks in a higher tenor, “Out out as in-?”

“As in a date, man. My little girl thinks we should date,” Link wants to make this into a joke. He feels like he should be able to do that. He knows he should. Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? One big joke and he tries to laugh but the sound comes out so false and weird he stops it immediately, instead pressing on, “Rest of my kids too. She was just…just the one elected to bring it up or-or something…”

Rhett sits up straighter and crosses his arms. His eyes dart from side to side and he looks like he’s thinking so danged hard about this. Way harder than Link thinks he should.

“Let me get this straight: your kids,” Rhett points to Link, “think we,” he waves a finger between the two of them, “should go out with one another?”

“Yes.”

Rhett blinks several times as if he’s physically processing this. His mind a computer pushing through a big old file of data. Which is probably why he offers an indelicate, “Huh.”

“Right?!” Link cries, because he feels like Rhett understands. Rhett gets Link. Rhett knows exactly how Link thinks and feels and Rhett gets this situation, Link’s situation, perfectly.

“My kids pushed me back into datin’ long before yours did.”

…and this was not the response Link expected. He’d expected laughter. He’d expected an eyeroll. He’d expected anything but Rhett to say what he just said and thus his response is less than elegant, “Eh?”

“Locke and Shepard got on me 'bout dating only a year or two after the deal with Jessie was finalized. Think they were worried I’d become some ol’ hermit in the woods…” the last comes out in a bit of a chuckle as Rhett looks around them, “Can you believe that?”

Link can’t help but join him in chuckling on that front. Once the laughter dies down, Rhett sits up, threading his fingers together before letting his hands hang down between his knees, “Told ‘em I didn’t need it. You reach a certain age and you don’t date anymore.”

“That’s what I told, Lily!” Link crows; overjoyed that his pal is in agreement.

One slender shoulder rises and falls in an easy motion as he confesses, “Not that I haven’t been out though.”

This draws Link up short. It startles him. It makes him sit up as well, his own hands mirroring Rhett’s and one of his legs starts jiggling restlessly, “Y-Y-you’ve been-? Been seeing someone?”

“Nah,” Rhett offers a lazy grin, “Not seriously. Seen a coupla different folks, but no one I’d care to see again.”

So.

Rhett had…or is…dating. Sure, he doesn’t call it dating, but still…the omission trips Link up. For some reason, he’d just believed both he and Rhett were in the same boat. Sure, Rhett was divorced, not widowed, but Link had felt – in some way – that it held the same sort of principle.

You chose someone to spend the rest of your life with and when their life or your life ended, that was that. There was nothing else, no one, else. And he’s aware how immature that is, how backwards-thinking, but it just…it’s what he always thought. Until now. Until this very moment where Rhett revealed that it’s not that way at all.

At least not for him.

Rhett…seeing people…with-with potential romantic intent…

For some reason it just doesn’t compute and now Link knows he’s the one blinking madly as he tries to process this. One reason it’s hard to swallow comes to mind, so he asks, "You-you never mentioned…?”

“Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell.”

“You’re telling me right now!” And there’s that hysteric tone again.

“Not givin’ you names, now am I?”

Link feels the sound of sheer disgruntled aggravation that leaves him right now really nails his feelings home. Rhett, however, is unmoved, “Gotta say though, Lily is way off base…”

Link’s hands unhook as he practically melts. A wave of relief washes over him, his whole body falling back to rest against the chair, “Finally!”

“…we already know one another.”

Link’s head snaps back up so quickly it defies his advanced age, “What?”

“Well, not only are we well past the age of dating, dating in and of itself is for people who don’t know one another,” Rhett returns candidly, “We’ve known one another damn near all our lives. So, telling us we should date isn’t quite right. If we went out, it’d probably be called something else.”

“What?!”

Rhett strokes at his beard thoughtfully, “Wonder if there’s a name for that? People who’ve known one another for a long time, but then decide to bump it up a notch. Mean, it’s probably still just called 'dating’, but I really think they should come up with another word for it, because they’re making up new words all the time for all kinds of things so, you think there’d be one for that.”

“WHAT?!”

Rhett looks at Link and he edges closer to him, voice colored with concern, “You alright there? Thought I was the one with the bad hearing. My hearing aids really help, so if you think your ears are starting to go you can ask your doc about-?”

“My hearing is fine,” Link stresses, “But I’m not sure about everything else, because, apparently, I’ve woken up in some alternate universe!”

“…well, we did used to say we traveled the multiverse.”

“Can it, McLachlin!” Link points at him, tone sharp, “You’re the one who said it wasn’t a question you needed to answer!”

“…a question-?”

“Back on the show!” Link cries, “One time you said you didn’t need to answer the question of what it’d be like if we kissed or made out or-!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Rhett laughs and waves both of his hands, “Look…first off - for the most part - you’ve always had a better memory’n me. Even back before we were old coots. Second, pretty presumptions of you, ain’t it?”

Link frowns, waits for Rhett to continue the thought and when he does, it takes all the strength Link has within in his body not to strangle the other man, “Mean – you jumping right into kissing and making out…haven’t even taken me out proper yet. If you want to start courting me…”

“I don’t!” Link practically leaps to his feet at that. A rather impressive feat considering his body doesn’t move with near the alacrity it used to, “I-I-I mean, I’m-I’m not-!”

“No?” Rhett sniffs, “Rude.”

“What?” And Link hates repeating himself, hates sounding so stupefied but honestly: what the heck? “Do you want me to be courting you? To take you out out? To date?”

Rhett looks far too damned tranquil for this conversation, “Just because a long time ago I said I didn’t need to answer the question to that, don’t mean I’m not pondering it now.”

And with that, Link dies.

Or he feels like he dies.

Or something else.

Something transcendent. Something where he really has confirmed that, somehow, the planets have shifted, the stars have aligned, and he’s been transported to another universe, because he couldn’t have possibly heard that right.

Yet he knows he did.

Link feels lightheaded. He feels like he’s outside of his body, his voice coming back to him in an echo, lips moving unbidden, “But-? You’re-you’re not-? You’ve-you’ve never been interested in-?”

Another easy shrug, “Not sure if I’m interested in men. But I sure as shit am interested in you. Always have been.”

Link really thinks he should sit back down. Sit back down or fall down. Just…down…

His hands feels shaky and wild as they find the arms of the chair, as he lowers himself back into, as he breathes, “You’re interested in-in-in-?”

Link’s head moves around as if looking for someone else, because saying ‘in me’ (and the ‘me’ being Link himself) doesn’t seem at all possible.

Rhett, seeming to finally take pity on him, sighs, “When I say ‘I’m interested in you’, I’m not declaring some secret, unrequited, suppressed feelings for you, man. I’m saying you’re my friend, I find you interesting, and I ain’t entirely opposed to seeing if there could be more to it,” he unlaces his fingers to wave between them, “To us,” then he changes one of his hands into the two fingers to motion between their eyes, “To this.”

“…this…” is all Link can manage. It comes out faint and whispery. He’s still pretty convinced he died. Probably happened on the ride here. Damn twisty backroads.

“…’course if you’re not interested,” Rhett sucks his teeth, “Or chicken…”

Link snaps back to life right quick. He’s alive. He’s alive and in his body and his ears are burning, his heart pounding, his cheeks bright red as his blood pressure rises, “I’m not chicken!”

Rhett just eyes him balefully and-and the utter gall of it! Of those eyes looking at him in this fashion and Link puffs up, “I’m not! I’M a modern man, dang it! I-I’m not afraid to-to-!”

He runs a hand through his thick (now completely) silver hair and tugs it hard, “It’s just-? It’s crazy! It’s insane! It’s-it’s-it’s-!”

He’s stuttering all over himself, all the things he wants to say not coming out of his mouth quickly enough and he just points at Rhett accusingly, “It’ll ruin our friendship and be all kindas awkward and-!”

Rhett leans back in his chair, crosses his arms again and stretches out his ridiculously long, giraffe-like legs, “You know…we drank one another’s urine.”

Link stalls at that.

“Once upon a time.”

Link is still stopped. Enough that Rhett just breathes in and looks off to one side, “Messed around with one another’s feet. Did Mama Bird/Baby Bird. Cuddled with cockroaches.”

“Thought you said I had the better memory.”

“’Bout some things,” Rhett offers with a small grin, “My point is – we’ve done much crazier things. Only difference this time would be that it’s personal and it’s not for an audience.”

Link digests that, chews on it. He rolls it over and over again in his mind. Rhett seems to be waiting for him to answer – one way or another and when it becomes obvious that no real answer is forth coming, he lets out another sigh and rises up, wincing some.

Link would bet it’s due to his lower back twinging, because sitting long periods of time now just does that to him. Link knows, because it does it to him too.

Rhett puts his hands in his pockets and offers another blithe shrug, “Look, don’t worry about it. I don’t blame you if you’re-”

“Okay.”

Link’s eyes are downcast. They went in that direction when he knew his final answer. He wants to raise his head. He wants to know who said it, that quiet word. So quiet as to almost be inaudible.

And shy.

Quiet, shy…unreal.

And he knows he said it. Knows it came from his mouth. And he feels it when Rhett gets closer to him, feels the heat of his friend and he can just make him out of his peripheral vision as he repeats just as quietly, just as shy, “Okay?”

Link licks his lips and looks up. He looks up into his friend’s kind eyes and feels his head wobbling on his neck as he nods, “Okay. Yeah. I…I guess it’s…it’s worth trying…”

“So,” Rhett’s lips tug up in one corner, a teasing sort of smirk, “You are courting me?”

Link shoves out at him and the two laugh. But the fact still remains. Link has just agreed to go out with Rhett. Out out. As in a date, as in…

…and Link knows, eventually, the panic will return. But for now? For now, it’s nice to just be with his friend and laugh.

[arigatouiris]

an inconvenient crush // kozume kenma x reader (2/2)

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for the support! I really appreciate people coming in and telling me you liked my story! Makes me feel so loved and valid, I can’t even begin to tell you how special it makes me feel. Here’s the final part! Do let me know what you think! Thank you so much :”)

Word count: 4k+

Pairing: YouTuber! Kenma Kozume x Streamer! Reader

Summary: YouTuber Kozume Kenma has had the biggest crush on Twitch Streamer, (s/n) (y/n), who in actuality simps heavily after Kenma’s secret YouTube persona, puddinghead0.

What happens when their paths cross?

Kuroo is honestly tired of Kenma’s second-guessing, and (y/n) is a bit of a crackhead.

Warnings: unrequited love, one-sided crush, slight angst, pining, crackhead reader, internet bullying, slang, gaming references, haikyuu manga spoilers, fluff

C h a p t e r T w o: kozume in love

Kenma chuckled when he heard you scream over the controller. The both of you were currently fighting a boss named Martyr Logarius, and while you had beaten the game once, playing it in Newgame+ was extra hard. Kenma was certainly helping, but you had made a silly mistake and died for the fourth time in a row.

    "You're dodging too early," Kenma said, still chuckling, "But it is entertaining to see you dodge in such panic."

    "Shut up," You groaned over the microphone, earning more chuckles from him, "I'm trying, okay?"

    "You beat this game, you said?"

    "Ahhh!"

Kenma laughed some more, now covering his face with his hand. He could hear you laugh out of frustration as well, but while this entire orchestration felt funny to both of you, Kenma's heart bubbled dangerously. He loved the sound of your voice, and he absolutely adored the way you groaned and cursed at the bosses each time you died or each time you defeated them. You were good, and even as the game tested you, you trod on. He could see you loved gaming in its entirety, and slowly, he was learning more about you.

    "I need a beer." You sighed.

    "This game does that to you," Kenma leaned back against his bean bag, "I mean... Not to burst your bubble, but you do suck."

    "Oye," You warned playfully, "I'm a streamer."

    "Anyone can stream, (y/n)."

There was silence on the other end after that, but Kenma didn't think it was anything odd. The co-oping between you two was going on for a few days now, and it would last up to 5-7 hours at most. It was strange that despite college, you two managed to find time to sit and play, but after a point, it had become more than just the game. You began to crave his voice, crave the way he'd be there, whenever you were about to run low on health, he'd come over and give you time to heal.

Co-oping with Kenma was fun because it felt, oddly, as if he really cared.

    "(y/n)?"

    "I always thought you sounded familiar," Kenma blinked, "But I think hearing you say more words sort of... gave it away."

    "Gave what away?" Kenma's heart was pounding now.

    "Kozume-kun," He didn't want to hear the rest, "Are you puddinghead0?"

It took him several seconds to process what you said. He could practically feel his heart beat against his ears, and he could sense you getting impatient at him as well.

    "Kozume—"

    "How did you know?"

You took a few moments to answer.

    "I... I've been a fan for too long not to recognize your voice, really. I just... I guess I had to hear you through the microphone to instantly pick it up? I don't know I... Why didn't you tell me?"

    "I didn't want you to know."

    "Oh," His heart broke at how low you sounded. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't ask you because I knew you were him or anything! I asked you as Kozume—"

    "Right."

    "No, listen," You were panicking now, "I assure you, I didn't know until recently. I didn't even think... I never—"

    "What did you picture him as, (y/n)?"

    "What do you—"

    "I'm sure you pictured him as someone different, right? It must disappoint you that someone you admire is in fact, a regular college student—"

    "Don't say that! I really enjoy playing with you, and... I never even pictured how you'd look in the first place!"

    "Sure—"

    "Can we meet? Please, let me just—"

    "Not happening. It was nice playing with you, (y/n). I hope you get the platinum—"

    "Please, don't do this."

When Kenma hesitated, he knew that it was no longer an inconvenient crush. His fingers trembled and he couldn't look away from the television screen. His chest hurt and he was certain that his shirt was drenched.

    "Please, let's—"

    "Where do you want to... meet?"

    "Oh, thank goodness," Your genuine relief made him want to laugh, "I was so certain you'd hang up. Oh, thank god. Uh, I don't know. You live near campus?"

He narrowed his eyes, "What campus?"

    "Tokyo University?"

    "You go here too?"

    "Literature student! You go here? You mean to say the puddinghead0 goes to—"

    "Please, just never call me that, okay?"

    "Where do you want to meet?"

    "I... Just come to campus, we'll figure it out."

What normally took Kenma 12 minutes took him 17 now. He spent some time pacing back and forth on whether to go or not, before understanding that he couldn't back out after assuring you that he'd be there. He wondered if you would come as a fan or as his friend (were you his friend?), but the foremost thing that Kenma worried about was what your interaction with him would be about. Why did you want to meet him? What explanation did you want to give?

Maybe she wants to thank me, he thought as he walked forward, finally bucking up and realizing that he might actually need to meet you alone as himself.

He noticed that you were waiting outside the gates of the campus, airpods plugged in, head rocking lightly to some music that you were listening to. From a distance, you caught sight of him and waved almost hesitantly, shooting his heart to the skies. Your hair was tied in a messy bun and you were wearing anime merch, a Bakugou shirt with regular jeans. No matter what you wore, Kenma thought you were ridiculously pretty. Kenma had always thought you were pretty, from the very first video that you uploaded. He caught your stream in Kuroo's laptop when he had come over, and apparently it was your first time. You were hesitant and shy, but it gradually died down the more you played. Kenma found himself laughing so much that it alerted Kuroo, who had understood right away that you held a special place in Kenma's mind since no one could make Kenma laugh quite like you could.

When he was a few feet away from you, you looked at him awkwardly before he noticed you were red-faced. Is she... blushing?

    "U-Uh, yeah so uh," She was so nervous that it was making him feel weird, "I don't want to treat you differently but I just realized that I was gushing to you about puddinghead not knowing that you are, in fact, puddinghead and god, I feel like an idiot."

Kenma had to laugh at that before shaking his head, "It's fine, I don't get too many compliments anyway."

    "You had me simping all over you and you knock that down as compliments? Please teach me the art of modesty, senpai."

Kenma laughed some more before letting out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. You were taking breaths now yourself; you were standing beside someone who had literally inspired you to start streaming gameplay, and you had no idea that you were playing alongside him all this while until he had practically confirmed it not too long ago. Of course, a part of you felt weird that he never told you himself, but perhaps he wanted to keep it a secret. Also...

He had been watching your streams. Kenma had admitted that as himself the first time you had met. You could practically die.

    "There's this cafe down this road," You said, suddenly feeling a lot bolder, "We won't have to stand around awkwardly then."

    "Alright."

The walk wasn't quiet, you were desperately trying to think of something to talk about, and you were mumbling a few things here and there about Bloodborne, and he commented back; but neither of you found your heart in the conversation and kept going because you didn't know how to handle the silence. While you admired Kenma, Kenma was also aware that you had no idea the feelings he had for you.

It made him feel a bit inadequate, and he wasn't sure how to take it.

When you reached the cafe, Kenma and yourself took the seats outside. You took in his appearance properly for the first time that evening; his hair tied in a messy, loose ponytail and wearing baggy clothing with black jeans and sneakers. Kenma was gorgeous, you wouldn't deny that, especially now that your heart was bubbling with excitement over how he was your YouTube idol. Strangely, his question rang in your mind:

What did you picture him as, (y/n)?

Your eyes softened at Kenma as he checked his phone for a minute; unable to look away. You stared at him the way folks stare at a rainbow, taking in all that unexpected beauty, not wanting to look away in case it might disappear. You felt yourself blushing when he looked up to meet your gaze, almost feeling time stop. But, you were too much of an overthinker to let that happen.

I'm sure you pictured him as someone different, right? It must disappoint you that someone you admire is in fact, a regular college student—

    "Kozume-kun," What am I doing? "I can't picture anyone but you."

He was now staring at you like you were an idiot mumbling rubbish. He gulped, you could see the rise and fall of his adam's apple, but he wasn't saying a word.

    "A few months ago, when I started the channel on Twitch, I could do it only because of you. You inspired me to upload my own gameplay because I now had a platform to be proud of it. But as Kozumu-kun, you gave me the courage to not only be proud of my gameplay but to see what's actually important," You smiled as you said, "Fun."

    "You're giving me way too much credit."

You shook your head, "We don't always realize how little exchanges that we have with people cause ripple effects. Playing with you these past few days reminded me of what streaming for views made me forget. Views don't matter, the fun does. I let those comments get to me because the views mattered to me, and they still do. But, that's not everything. I learned that from you."

Kenma didn't know what to say.

    "So when you figured out that I was... the YouTuber—"

    "Puddinghead—"

    "—Yeah, that. Didn't you think I lied to you?"

You shook your head, "You never had a face reveal, which meant that you wanted to keep it a secret. So why would I feel like you lied? You had every reason to—"

    "Stop being so fucking adorable, it's actually pissing me off." Kenma snapped without realizing.

Both of your eyes widened—Kenma's and yours—at the words that exited his mouth. Your face was flaming at what he said, and Kenma probably felt like a suicidal ostrich. He wanted to bury his head under the ground and never rise, for that would keep him away from the embarrassment that was due; he could hear Kuroo's laughter in the distance, which made it all the worse.

    "I'm... I'm not trying to be cute, you know?" You said, tilting your head a little, playing with a strand of your hair.

Kenma frowned at you, wondering now if you were doing it on purpose.

    "What are you... doing?"

    "There's a word for it!" You pointed an index finger in the air, "Hanker sore."

Kenma scoffed, "What's that?"

    "It's finding someone so attractive that it pisses you off."

Kenma blushed, "Y-You're not all that attractive, you just... come across as cute sometimes."

Your eyes widened, "I'm a catch!"

He bit his lower lip, "Yeah, sure."

    "Hey! I am a total catch, you could like totally fall for me!"

Kenma's heart skipped a beat, "Yeah, sure."

While you were sitting across him having a struggle over how he easily pushed away your claims, Kenma stared at you like you were all he could see, and as if you were a sight that he would forget if he didn't drink in your details at this very second. A moment later, you gasped before leaning forward.

    "I think we should get something."

    "Let's actually... go get your platinum."

Your eyes widened, "You... don't mind?"

He shook his head now that he was absolutely certain, "No, let's go back."

You were beaming and thanking him, acting as if he suddenly wasn't the YouTuber you had been simping after, treating him like a separate individual that he was, behaving as you would with anyone else; Kenma's worries dissipated in thin air, he was now confident that he had fallen in love with you, mind, body, and soul—your voice had ensnared and captured him, and now, your revelation had done the deed of claiming his heart.

    "Oh, and," Kenma said, "No one will know."

You nodded before throwing him a mock salute, "Of course!"

*

You were legitimately freaking out. 

Kenma had followed you as puddinghead on your professional Twitter and you had been staring at the screen for close to an hour now. You weren't sure if the reason for your heart to be beating the way it was was because Kenma was puddinghead or because you had finally learned what puddinghead looked like, but whatever it was, the feeling was intense.

Are these feelings romantic though? You wouldn't lie, before you knew puddinghead's face, you had pictured meeting him and dating him—the regular daydreaming that a person would do for the person they were simping after. And while those thoughts were innocent, now puddinghead had a name. Puddinghead was Kozume Kenma, an attractive college student, CEO of Bouncing Ball Corp, and YouTuber. Your mind was taking you to places, and juxtaposing your previous fantasies now with Kenma's face. No, no, no, you scolded yourself before covering your face with your hand. Yes, discovering his identity is huge, but don't forget, he thinks of you as a friend!

You were about to join his party on the PSN and co-op Bloodborne again, but all you could think about were how long Kenma's fingers were when they were placed on the table before you that day when you met him in the cafe.

You were practically out of it.

    "Hey, Kozume-kun!"

    "You know you can call me Kenma, right? I call you (y/n)."

    "O-Oh," Your face reddened uncharacteristically. "R-Really?"

You heard Kenma chuckle and your heart was ready to combust, "Yeah, what's there to think about?"

Oh dear lord, "Okay. Uh... So..."

     "So."

     "Uh."

    "(y/n)?"

Fuck, "K-Kenma-kun."

Kenma had his hand covering his jaw at how cute you sounded, but you were practically jelly yourself. It wasn't easy learning the identity of your internet crush and having to play with them as friends. It wasn't easy to accept these facts and to admit that maybe, just maybe, the person that they are in real life was equally attractive.

    "We have to beat the Shadows of Yharnam today."

Did his voice always sound like velvet?

    "Hm, I've heard they were relatively easy?"

    "No," He said chuckling, "To you, they're definitely going to be a challenge."

When he chuckles, I feel like I'll die.

    "Didn't you play against them without co-op?"

    "Oh, yeah," You could practically picture him rubbing the back of his neck, "I did co-op for Gherman in the end, though."

Fuck, he's so cute!

    "What?" Kenma asked, sounding confused.

    "What?"

    "You said 'he's so cute', you mean Gherman?" You gasped, "(y/n), he's... he's an old man?"

    "Y-Yeah! Haha, I mean... Yeah. It's... I was..."

Kenma laughed before asking you to continue before you slapped yourself for making such a big fool out of yourself. Snap out of it, you scolded yourself once more. You can't like Kenma-kun just because you know he's puddinghead.

But, did you?

As days passed, you exchanged numbers with Kenma. Texting him was relatively easy since he barely tried to keep the conversation alive and you just had so much to say. Sometimes, Kenma believed he might be boring, but you kept texting him as if his personality wasn't really that much of a bother. He wasn't much of a texter, and you had caught on, a fact that didn't actually bother you. Kenma, however, would never leave you on read, would try to reply within the hour even though he doesn't text as often.

Your mind, however, revolved around the heart he had once sent you as puddinghead.

You were re-reading the tweets almost every night, and juxtaposing the image of an empty face with Kenma's. For some reason, puddinghead's image was slowly erasing itself from your mind; you became less fascinated with the YouTube persona, but instead, looked forward to hearing from his real-life identity, trying to know more about his day, about his other interests, and having learned that he was from Nekoma blew your mind since he was from a rival school.

Kenma and you often met at the cafe again, just to grab a few snacks and talk about games. It would be you most of the time who would be initiating conversation, and Kenma would listen and retort when he felt the need to. However, not once did you feel like he wasn't listening; not once did Kenma make you think you weren't keeping him engaged. His eyes were on you, his intense gaze enough to burn you to the ground. It practically had you shivering.

Your mind, however, still continued to revolve around the heart he had once sent you as puddinghead.

    "I might need to go to a volleyball game soon—"

    "Why did you send me a heart?"

Kenma froze before meeting your gaze. "What?"

You almost wanted to slap yourself but you had said it. You couldn't hold it back, you couldn't keep mulling over your thoughts and therefore, you decided to tell the source of your problems what your problems were.

    "Kenma-kun, I... I had a big crush on puddinghead," Kenma's gaze on you was unwavering, "Now that I know you're puddinghead, and... and you were the one who sent me a heart, I... I've always thought you were cute and all—"

    "(y/n)—"

    "—and it's a bit unfair if I like you only because you're puddinghead, but I gave it a lot of thought—"

    "—(y/n), listen—"

    "—and I don't want you thinking that my feelings are just because you're a famous YouTuber and I just want to like... I don't know... I enjoy every second with you and slowly I just—"

Kenma's finger tapped your forehead, freezing you in position. His cat-like eyes were boring into your soul, and there he was, face inches away from yours, expressionlessly staring into you.

    "I've been in love with you for the longest time," Kenma's voice was gold, "No pressure, though."

    "No..." What the fuck? "N-No pressure?!"

Kenma laughed at your outburst, "Yeah, I mean... I took sometime accepting it, to even think that I liked you over the internet didn't make sense to me. And then we bumped into each other and we started gaming together and I guess I understood that your internet persona was just a part of you I'd liked, and now I like you more."

Oh.

Was it really that simple?

    "So... If I liked you as puddinghead—"

    "Please don't call me that."

    "—and if I like you as Kenma-kun, then..."

Kenma sighed before offering you a sweet smile, "It's probably the same thing, (y/n). Stop worrying."

    "Can I kiss you?" You blurted out, without thought.

God, this woman, Kenma thought, before covering his jaw with his hand.

*

In less than a week, you'd learned the route to Kenma's apartment by heart. You went over to game at his place, and slowly began streaming as (y/n) again on Twitch. You didn't want to stream with Kenma yet, because you guys had just started dating a month ago. For liking you longer than you liked him, Kenma was relatively cool about you hanging over at his, and about initiating any sort of touch—because your thoughts were practically spilling out of you and as cute as he once thought they were, he didn't want you to say 'pinch me' every time he kissed you.

Kenma's hands were buried into your hair as he kissed you fervently, softly at first before pulling back to see how flushed your face was. He'd never really imagined you being here, out of the screen he saw you from, in his arms, kissing him back.

He chuckled at the thought.

    "What's so funny?" You were legitimately a crackhead, but he adored you.

    "I thought having a crush on you was very inconvenient at first."

    "Why?"

He shrugged before pulling you to his chest, your face reddening at the contact. He noticed, but simply shook his head as you buried your face into his chest.

    "Because I thought it was too good to be true."

    "Am I the one freaking out each time or are you?"

    "Yeah, that part even I don't get."

You giggled before wrapping your hands around his neck, bringing yourself closer to him. Your face was at the crook of his neck, eyes closed as his arms were wrapped around your waist. You were both currently on Kenma's couch, nuzzling with each other on a lazy class-less Monday.

Suddenly, the door opened, revealing Kenma's roommate, in all honesty, did not know how to react when a famous Twitch streamer was lying asleep on his roommate. Kenma gave him a nonchalant look before placing a finger on his lips.

    "She's asleep."

    "Y-Yeah, that's definitely what I was thinking." The roommate said before rushing to his room and locking the door.

Well, Kenma thought before bringing his hand back around your waist, That's a problem for another day.

[lils-writes-stuff]

A Family Affair

spencer reid x reader

Best Years Part 5 | part 4 | part 3 | part 2 | part 1

Summary: as a case from atlanta dwells, the readers past make more advances. 

Warnings: normal criminal minds things

A/N: based on season seven episode 16 

 “You can’t hide forever Y/N,” the voice spoke. 

 Y/N’s eyes darted around the room she was in. She sat in a chair but she wasn’t able to get up from it. The smell of the damp room overwhelmed her as tears began to roll down her cheeks, 

“No,” she spoke with a trembling voice. 

“Nothing lasts forever Y/N, you know that,” The voice said before revealing itself. Caroline walked out from the shadows of the room, gun in her hand and a evil look on her face. “All the things you love will be gone soon and you know it.” 

 As the words left her mouth, lights flickered on beside her and she saw her team sitting there tied up to chairs.

 She made eye contact with Spencer, who than mouthed that it was okay. 

 “No, no- do not touch them, hurt me- take me, do whatever you want to me!” Y/N tried to plead to her tormentor, but Caroline just shook her head.  

 “Too late.” 

Y/N sat up in a cold sweat, clutching her chest as she hyperventilated. She reached and wiped the small tears that were on her cheeks. 

 “It was just a dream,” she tried to reassure herself. “Just a dream.” 

Y/N pulled herself out of her bed, pulling Spencer’s sweater that sat on the edge of the bed over her bare arms and pulling the ends of it over her torso that adorned a grey tank. Her feet shuffled as she walked to the bathroom to quickly brush her teeth then through her small living room into the kitchen where a fully dressed Spencer stood, ready to start the day. 

 “Good morning,” he said looking up from the book he had in his hand. 

 “Hi,” Y/N responded, voice full of sleep still. She brought herself over to the coffee machine, completely avoiding Spencer who was awaiting attention.

 “No love?” he asked with a small pout on his lips.

 “Coffee,” she said softly as she poured herself a cup.  

  “Uh-huh,” Spencer said as he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Usually, when they shared their mornings together and he did this, she would always lean back and lay in his arms. “What’s wrong?” 

 “Nothing just had a bad dream, spooked me a bit that’s all,” she said reassuring him. That wasn’t a lie, it was just a dream, she thought trying to reassure herself also.

 “Are you sure?” He asked. 

 “Yes, bub, I am sure,” she said, using his nickname she gave him a little after they started dating. She placed her mug on the counter and turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

 Spencer pulled her closer to him and connected their lips. Y/N loved when he was in a needy mood, it meant cuddles and kisses and all the attention she could give to him or vice versa. 

 The slow morning kiss tasted like coffee and toothpaste. Spencer held her closely as he pecked her lips multiple times diligently, making Y/N’s heart soar. 

 The moment was short-lived as both of their phones rang meaning Hotch needed them there in the office sooner than planned.

 “No,” Y/N said, dragging out the ‘o’ in sadness. 

 “Go get dressed I’ll make you a coffee to go,” Spencer told Y/N. 

 She sighed in defeat. She grabbed Spencer’s arm as she walked away, her sliding down to his and then finally letting go and walking to her room to get ready.  

--------

 Emily, Y/n, and Penelope laughed at the story Penelope was telling as they entered the round table room. As they walked in they saw JJ take a shot of Five-hour energy.

 “Whoa you’re not messing around,” Y/N said with a chuckle as she sat down in a chair at the table. 

 “Mm, Will’s away all week, so I am pulling double duty with Henry,” JJ said as she finished the shot. 

 “Please tell me we are still on for Saturday night because I have had it circled in my calendar for the last 23 and a half days, which apparently, from the look of you you did not,” Penelope said rushed while she looked at JJ. She set her mug down and took a seat in her chair.

 “Ooh, Garcia paid good money for those salsa lessons,” Emily said, tucking a piece of hair behind her hair. Y/N nodded her head in agreement.

 Spencer and Morgan walked into the room and took their seats hearing the tail end of the conversation. 

 “I’ll get a sitter,” JJ said, feeling guilty for not remembering the plans that they had made.

  “Let’s get started,” Hotch said walking into the room with Rossi, the two taking their seats at the table. 

  “Okay, Atlanta Field office has a serial on their hands,” Penelope said as she opened her tablet. “Two prostitutes stabbed and staged in the last two weeks.”

 “Atlanta’s crime rate has skyrocketed over the last few years, especially the proliferation of solicited sex and drug use in the downtown district,” Spencer said. 

 “Maybe this guy thinks he’s cleaning up the city,” Emily said looking up from her tablet. 

 “It’s rare for an unsub who targets prostitutes to pose the bodies,” Y/N said, eyes trained on the pictures of the bodies. 

 “The means of disposal usually reflects how the person feels towards them,” JJ said.

 “It looks like he didn’t think poorly of his victims, even kept them dressed,” Rossi said eyes going towards the screen. 

 “He could be filled with remorse. The arms are folded, the bodies laid to rest in a quiet park outside the city,” Derek said while he pointed at the pictures with a pen. 

  “Maybe he knew them?” Y/N asked as she looked up from her tablet. 

 “It could be personal, there’s a lot of rage in these kills, multiple stab wounds,” Emily said.

 “What about sexual violations?” Rossi asked looking at Hotch.

 “No, the M.E.’s report says there’s no evidence of sexual activity before death,” Hotch says in response. 

 “So what’s he doing with them?” Penelope asked.

 “That’s what we need to find out, wheels up in 20,” Hotch said.

---------

   “Yes, Mom-- I know I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the last time I was coming down,” Y/N said to her mother on the phone. “Well, to be honest, it wasn’t the first thing on my mind to stop by and say hi since I was trying to catch a serial killer not too far from my home.” 

 The team listened as she paused and a look of horror filled her face. 

 “No ma’am I didn’t mean that in a smart ass way you know that, I’m sorry, I’ll come by if I can-- I will love you bye,” She hung up the phone grabbing her coffee from the bar before heading back to her seat next to Spencer. 

 The team looked at her with amusement after hearing the conversation between her and her mom. 

 “What? Don’t act like your Mom still doesn’t strike fear in you when she has that tone,” she said, mostly looking at Derek who she knew was about to say something to her. He opted to just raise his hands, knowing she was right. 

 “Okay, so both of the victims had 250 dollars on them when they were found, why wouldn’t the unsub take that?” Emily asked, changing the topic back to the case. 

 “It’s a lot to pass up, money must not be on his mind,” Rossi said. 

 “Dumping the bodies certainly is,” JJ said while opening the file that laid on the table. “He chose two different parks outside of Atlanta.” 

 “The parks are 15 miles apart and 40 minutes from the city, speaks to his comfort zone,” Spencer said. 

 “Or he didn’t want to return to the same location and risk getting recognized,” Derek countered. 

  “Hey guys, I hate to be the messenger of sad things,” Penelope said through the speaker of the laptop. “But yet another body has been discovered by some joggers at yet another park. Her name’s Rebecca Moore and, get this, a missing person report was filed on her.” 

 “How long was she missing?” Y/N asked. 

 “36 hours.” 

 “Who filed it?” Emily asked.

 “Her friend, Allyson Parker,” Penelope answered. 

 “Prentiss, you, Y/N, and JJ find out from Allyson if she has any insight on why Rebecca was targeted. Morgan and Reid, go to the disposal site, Dave and I will set up at the field office,” Hotch said telling everyone where to go. 

---------

  JJ, Emily, and Y/N pulled off the street as they arrived at the spot where Allyson told them to meet her. 

 “Allyson Moore?” Y/N asked as the approached a Brunette who stood on the corner. 

 “Yeah that’s me,” she responded. 

 “Hi, I’m Agent Y/L/N, this is Agent Prentiss-” she pointed to Emily on her left and then pointed to her right- “and this is Agent Jareau.”

 “Nice to meet you,” Allyson responded. 

 “We’re very sorry for your loss,” JJ said. 

 “How long were you and Rebecca friends?” Emily asked.

 “3 years,” Allyson responded getting choked up. 

 “You two had each other’s backs, that’s why you filed the report, right?” Y/N said looking at the girl.

 “It was almost two days, I thought she was at the police station. Getting locked up is better than disappearing with one of them,” Allyson explained. 

 “So what made you think something was wrong?” JJ asked. 

 “She always came back,” Allyson said. “Bad as it was, this place was home, you know?”

 “Did she have any regular customers?” JJ continued with her questions. 

 “We all do.” 

 “Rebecca had over 250 dollars on her,” Y/N said,

 “She did?” Allyson said, less a question more of a statement of disbelief.  

 “What would that kind of money get a customer?” Emily asked.

 “A lot,” responded Allyson. 

“Like, all night or….,” JJ trailed off wanting Allyson to finish her thought. 

 “Nowadays? Yeah,” Allyson responded. 

 “We need to take you back to the last time you saw Rebecca,” Emily explained, setting Allyson up for what they were about to do. 

 “Where were you standing?” Y/N asked watching as Allyson transported herself to that night. 

 “Facing which way?” Emily asked. 

 “Street-” she nodded towards the road- “A truck pulled up. He was one of my regulars. I was talking to him through the window when Rebecca pulled up in a silver beamer.”

 “Did you recognize the car?” Y/N asked Allyson.

 “No, it must have been a new customer,” Allyson explained. 

 “What did she do after that?” Emily asked. 

 “She looked back at me and then started walking down the block, that was the last time I saw her,” Allyson said, but then she stopped. “Wait a second, there was an older gray van. I’ve seen it around here before, it was parked there a long time.” 

 “A van? Where?” JJ asked as Allyson came back to where she was. 

  “It parks right there,” Allyson said pointing to a spot by a couple of trash cans. 

 The three women turned their heads to look at the spot. 

 “Could you make out the license plate?” Emily asked. 

 “No it was dark,” Allyson responded to their dismay. 

 “How long was it there?” Y/N asked turning her head to look at Allyson. 

 “A few hours probably, why?” Allyson asked.

 “It’s a loading zone, permit parking only,” Y/N explained.  

 The three women thanked her before they headed back to the SUV.  

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

 “Allyson remembered seeing a van parked on the street the night that Rebecca disappeared,” Emily said as her, Y/N, and JJ walked into the conference room. 

  “And she’s seen it before, but get this, it was parked in a loading zone for hours,” Y/N added.

 “Well, why don’t we check any recent tickets?” The Atlanta field office agent, Agent Brooks, said. 

 “Our analyst already did that, nothing,” Emily said.

 “It’s not a residential area, so a vendor maybe, Garcia pulling permits now,” JJ said. 

 “He’s done this three times before,” Rossi began. “Each victim is left with 250. That’s a 750 dollar investment, he didn’t have to make.” 

 “He has every chance to take that money back, but he buries it with them instead,” Derek said while he looked at the crime scene photos in his hands. 

 “It could be an expression or a manifestation of his guilt,” Emily said. 

 “Everything that happened postmortem- keeping them dressed, crossing their arms, laying them to rest- it’s all very nurturing,” JJ said.

 “But the kills are the exact opposite, incredibly violent and angry.” Y/N said countering JJ’s argument. 

  “Multiple personalities?” Emily asked.

 “Or multiple unsubs,” Hotch answered. “The violent one submits there dominance and the submissive one if left to clean up the mess.” 

 The team sat in silence as they thought and looked over the case file. Everyone’s attention soon turned to Agent Brooks as her phone rang. 

 “Brooks,” she said answering the phone. “Okay, we’ll be right there. There’s been another body.” 

 “Damn,” Y/N said. “These guys are moving fast.”

 “They are, Morgan and Y/N go to the latest crime scene with Agent Brooks, the rest of us will stay here,” Hotch said looking between Y/N and Derek. 

 The two Agents nodded and followed Brooks out of the office.

 It was a ten-minute drive to the crime scene, the three hoping out of the vehicle, and following an Atlanta Police Officer to the body. Brooks walked away from the scene as she answered her phone than talked to one of the responding officers and came back a minute later. Y/N and Derek looking over the body as she approached. 

 “Her name was Julie Harmon, lives in a loft downtown,” Brooks spoke looking at the body. “Envelope of cash was in her bag, wrapped in plastic.” 

 “That’s new,” Y/N said as she inspected the outfit Julie was wearing. “It looks like she’s prepped for burial.” 

 “This woman doesn’t fit his victimology,” Derek said while he crouched down next to the body to look closer.

 “Yeah, look at her nails,” Y/N said pointing to the fresh manicure that Julie had. 

 “The ways she’s dressed, her shoes haven’t hit the pavement,” Derek said in agreement to Y/N’s observations. 

 “Maybe she’s a high-class call girl,” Brooks said.

 “Who fought back and got punished for it,” Derek said. 

 Y/N inspected the body some more before she spoke. “Blunt-force trauma and the same bruising on the thighs, this one is the most violent yet,” she said. 

 “And the shortest time between kills,” Derek added to which Y/N hummed in agreement. 

  “Feel’s like he’s trying to break some kind of record,” Brooks said. 

 “This team has a complicated dynamic. Ultimately, they trust one another,” Derek said looking between Y/N and Brooks. 

 “They’re still codependent too, enabling each other,” Y/N added. She thought of all the different kinds of relationships that could have this dynamic. 

 “It sounds like any dysfunctional relationship, how do we narrow that down?” Brooks asked. 

 “Through her-” Derek pointed at Julie- “The more we can learn about Julie, the better we can understand why they’re doing this.”

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

   After the Derek and Y/N returned to the office, the team began to piece together a profile on who they believed their unsubs were. Y/N stared at the pictures of the bruising on the leg’s of the victim’s, not sure what it was but it felt monachopsis.

 “What are you thinking?” Spencer asked Y/N, noticing her staring at the board. 

 “The bruising, it doesn’t look like any form of torture we’ve seen, it almost doesn’t seem like it is torture,” Y/N explained turning to Spencer. 

 “Maybe it isn’t, but what else could it be?” He questioned looking at her. 

“I don’t know,” Y/N responded with a shrug. 

“Guys, we’re ready,” JJ told the two in the room prompting them to follow her to the rest of the team. 

  “We’re looking for a pair of white males in their late 20s to early 30s, who’ve developed a pattern of overkill followed by remorse,” Hotch explained to the Agents that were scattered throughout the office. 

 “This usually points to a dominant/submissive partnership,” Y/N said. 

 “The submissive follows the rules, knows the dominants type. Obtains the victims, and disposes of the body once the dominant has completed his killing ritual,” Spencer explained. 

 “What is the ritual?” Brooks asked. 

 “It most likely involves some form of bondage,” Emily began her explanation. “All the victims have identical bruises on their thighs, but we’re not sure if it’s done during capture or kills.”

 “There’s no sexual assault, which tells us the dominant is likely impotent or is experimenting with other forms of sexual release,” Rossi said. 

 “We often refer to this as a ‘thrill kill’,” Derek explained. “The dominant is inducing pain and creating terror without a sexual element.” 

 “This often provides him some stimulation and excitement, kind of like an adrenaline rush. The thrill of the murder is only a temporary fix,” Y/N said. 

 “Like any narcotic, the violence satisfies his senses for a time, but then it fades. This is why his cooling-off period is nonexistent,” Derek added. 

 “Despite a public investigation, the unsubs have continued killing. The risk of getting caught does not trump their need to kill,” JJ said as she looked around at the Agents. 

 “Thank you,” Hotch said dismissing everyone back to what they were doing. 

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

   “Julie Harmon was a sexual surrogate,” Derek said walking into the room after talking to Penelope. 

 “Whoa, sounds like somebody felt like a little progressive prescription might fix everything,” Emily said twirling her pen in the left hand. 

 “Well, they were wrong,” JJ added. 

 “That’s not just going from high- to low-risk victims. A sexual surrogate’s a very specific type,” Hotch said. 

 “It seems like they were trying to fix something, I mean why else would you call a therapist?” Y/N asked. 

 “They do treat patients with all types of disabilities, whether it’s developmental, physical, or emotional,” Emily explained looking at Y/N.

 “My guess is this guy had all three,” Derek began. “I mean, let’s look at physical: he’s got the upper body strength to kill, but the victims bruising tells us that he was using restraints.” 

 “Only they’re not on the wrists or ankles where restraints usually are, they’re tramline bruises around the thighs,” Rossi said pointing to the bruises on the photo. 

 “It’s as if the victims are straddling a chair,” Spencer said. 

 At this Y/N had a click, “What if it’s a wheelchair?”

 Spencer turned his head to look at Y/N as they had the same click. “Physical infirmities, with strong arms. That does make sense.”

 “That would also explain the van parked in the loading zone, handicap permits grant access all over the city,” JJ said agreeing with the two. 

 “I’ll call Penelope,” Y/N said stepping out of the room with her phone. She walked down the three steps that led up the room they were in and pressed Penelope’s contact name for her work phone. 

 “Hiya sugar what can I do for you?” Penelope asked answering the phone. 

 “Hey Penelope, I need you to look for handicap permits of those in the comfort zone for me, please,” Y/N requested to the woman over the phone. 

 “Sure thing, also I have to tell you something that’s a little suspicious,” Penelope said making Y/N’s heart beat faster. 

 “What is it?” She asked with nervousness. 

 “Caroline Roberts, I put a flag on her in case something suspicious or odd happened to alert me, anyways she hasn’t shown up for work in two weeks,” Penelope explained.

 “Oh maybe she just went on vacation or something,” Y/N said trying to reassure herself it was probably nothing. 

 “Sugar, it wouldn’t have alerted me if that was the case, but don’t you freight because right before she left she bought a ticket to head over to London, now I don’t know what that means, but it does tell me she’s out of reach from here for a while.” 

 “Okay thanks, Penelope, hit us back with that list?” Y/N asked. 

��“Faster than you can say my name, I bid you a-do.” 

 Y/N hung up her phone and entered back into the room with the rest of the team. 

----------

  Y/N sat with Spencer, JJ, Derek, and Emily in the small conference room. Her eyes were trained on the board looking at all the victims, all different ideas running through her head while the team talked. She wasn’t really listening though, only hearing parts of what they were saying. 

 “Maybe the caretaker is a woman, by nature, women prefer cleaner disposal methods,” JJ said peaking Y/N to listen to what was being said. 

 “I don’t know. I mean, that terrain was something serious,” Derek said referring to the dumpsite he went to with Spencer. “No offense, ladies, but Reid and I hiked up that ridge, and there’s no way a woman physically fit or not, could carry dead-weight all that way.” 

 “And we profiled that the partners in a wheelchair, so that would make it impossible for him to help with disposal,” Emily added in agreement. 

 Y/N stood up from her seat and walked over to the board to look at the pictures closer. Words scattered between the pictures of the crime scene from them trying to form the profile more. 

 “So there’s a third person involved, that rarely works there’s usually two against one, ” Derek said. 

 Y/N trailed back into her thoughts as her eyes darted between the pictures.

 “They’d have to trust each other completely, so what kind of relationship involves that dynamic?” Spencer asked. 

 Y/N’s mind then thought back to something her mother always used to tell her: No matter what we will always protect you Y/N, through hell or high water, because we are your parents. 

 “What if it’s parents protecting their child?” Y/N asked, turning around quickly from the board to the four sittings. “My parents always told me growing up that they would protect and help me no matter what. So what if this is like that.”

 “They raise them, they root for them,” JJ said with realization. 

 “They would share the same genes,” Emily added. 

 “Apples don’t fall from the tree,” Y/N agreed. 

 “A parent would hold themselves accountable for the child being injured, that explains the guilt,” Spencer said. 

 “Yeah, but what kind of sick family pulls this off?” Derek asked. 

 “One that’s done it before,” Y/N answered. 

 “I’ll get Hotch and Rossi,” JJ said standing up to exit the room. The rest of the nodded and waited for her to come back with the.

 The five than explained why it was probably a family to Hotch and Rossi. The family probably only had one child because a sibling would be less than likely to participate. If the child was hurt in an accident and the parents felt responsible they would do anything to make them happy.

 “Murder probably wasn’t something they planned though, it came as an extreme side effect of the son’s condition,” Y/N explained to Hotch.

 “If there was orbital cortex damage from the accident, it would help to explain why killing is his release,” Emily added.

 “If the mother has psychopathic tendencies, she could have passed it down through her X chromosome,” Spencer explained.

 “Garcia’s looking up accidents now that have the parents at fault,” JJ said. 

 “That list has to be long,” Rossi spoke as he raised an eyebrow. 

 “Uh- it is, So she is also looking for unsolved cases in the state,” JJ added. 

 “There’s a good chance this isn’t the first time the son has acted out,” Y/N explained. 

 As Y/N finished her statement, JJ’s phone rang. 

 “Hey, Garcia, you’re on speaker,” she said to her over the phone. 

 “Okay, the only thing I can find that’s remotely similar to this is from five years ago. A coed at Georgia state was stabbed and left in a park,” Penelope said.

 “Did she have bruises on her inner thighs?” Rossi asked.

 “Uh, M.E. says…” Penelope paused as she looked for the answer. “Yes, she did.”

 “All right, Garcia, check student enrollment for that year for students with campus handicap permits,” Hotch said to the woman on the phone.

 “I got a bushel of matches, let’s narrow this down.” 

 “Look for in-state residents. If the unsub was injured there’s a good chance he stayed close to home,” JJ said. 

 “Oh, they’re all locals,” Penelope responded. 

 “The parents would have covered it up, and they would have pulled their son out of school after the murder,” Emily explained. 

  “Eureka, Jeffery Collins,” Penelope said as she found a match. “He dropped out of school weeks after the murder and have since lived with his parents.”

 “What’s his story?” Y/N asked. 

 “Sending it to you right now, he’s an only child of Linda and Donald Collins. He was a local athlete who became paralyzed in a car accident when he was fifteen.”

 “It says here the mother was driving, but the injuries weren’t consistent with being behind the wheel,” Derek said while he looked up from he tablet. 

 “But the fathers were look-” Spencer pointed to a part of the report on the tablet that Y/N held in her hand- “Broken ribs, ruptured spleen, minor concussion.” 

 “He’s obviously the one who hit the steering wheel,” Y/N said in agreement.

 “Let me guess, the father was drunk,” Rossi said looking over to Y/N.

 “Yeah, twice the legal limit,” Penelope answered over the phone. 

 “Sounds like they switched places and she covered for him,” Y/N said. 

 “But helping your husband avoid a DUI is far different than helping your son dispose of bodies,” Spencer said as he looked between those around. 

 “Not necessarily,” Hotch countered. “The mother fixes things, she could have manipulated the husband into making up for his failure.” 

  “Garcia, you got an address?” Derek asked Penelope over the phone.

 “Sending it to you now,” she quickly responded. 

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

 “Hotchner,” Hotch said answering his phone. “Okay, we’ll be right there,” he hung up and turned the car around. 

 “What is it?” Y/N asked as she leaned forward in her seat to adjust her vest. 

 “Agent Brooks, they just found Donald Collins car wrapped around a telephone pole,” Hotch responded as they headed towards the accident, a mere two minutes from where they already were. The SUV came to a halt as they reached the accident and Hotch, Spencer, Emily, and Y/N piled out of the car. 

 “Hey guys thanks for getting here so quick,” Brooks said as she approached the four. 

 “We were on our way to the Collins home when we received the call,” Spencer said as they continued over to the car. 

 “Donald Collins was behind the wheel, died on impact. We found this in his coat pocket,” Brooks explained handing Emily the letter that was sealed in an evidence bag.

 “Let me guess, it’s his confession to all the murders,” Y/N said before she looked at the letter in Emily’s hand. 

 Agent Brooks nodded her head in response. 

 “Even in death, he’s still covering for his son,” Emily said showing Hotch and Spencer the letter. 

 “No one else in the car?” Hotch asked. 

 “No,” Brooks answered. 

 “No skid marks, he probably hit the pole going about 65 miles-per-hour,” Spencer said inspecting the asphalt behind the car. 

 “He committed suicide,” Y/N said while she shook her head in disbelief. 

 “It looks like he was trying to replicate the accident that made Jeff a paraplegic, this was his ultimate penance,” Emily said. 

 “Is this their endgame?” Hotch asked. 

  “If he was trying to replicate the accident, Jeff and Linda would have both been in the car,” Spencer answered, turning to the three on his right. 

 “So where are they?” Y/N asked. 

 “Probably still at the house, maybe even with their next victim,” Spencer said. 

-----------

  “Mom, Mom listen, I promise you the next time I am home I will try to come to visit you I swear-, Y/N said as she brought her mug and Spencer’s over to their seats on the jet.

 Spencer mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Y/N as she handed him the mug, which she responded back with a nod as she sat down in her seat.  

“No it’s not that I don’t think visiting you isn’t important. You know you’re starting to sound like grandma,” Y/N laughed as she looked at Spencer next to her and then Emily across. “All right will do, love you too, bye.” 

  It was the next day, the team had arrested Jeffery Collins and were now on their way back home. 

 “That sounded fun,” Emily said as she looked at Y/N. 

 “You have no idea,” Y/N laughed. “She told me if she doesn’t get to meet Spencer, or any of the rest of you guys really, sometime soon, she’s going to through a fit.” 

 The three laughed but they halted as they saw JJ walk up and sit down next to Emily, a look of defeat on her face.

 “Still no sitter?” Emily asked the blonde. 

 “My sitter is not available,” JJ explained. “Apparently I have a better chance at winning the lottery than getting a sitter for a Saturday night.”

 “What’s going on tonight?” Spencer asked. 

 “Ladies Night,” Y/N said as she looked over at Spencer next to her. His eyes trained on a book in his lap. 

 “It was but, I forgot to book a sitter,” JJ said.

 “I’ll do it,” Spencer said. 

 The three women turned their heads to look at him. All having the same questioning and unsure look on their faces.

 “Spence,” JJ said trying to protest. 

 “What? I’ve seen an episode of ‘Mr. Belvedere’,” Spencer said trying to prove he could do it.

 “I don’t know if that would help, bub,” Y/N said patting his arm sweetly. The nickname just slipping out but no one questioned it. 

  “And you’ve never babysat by yourself before,” JJ added.

  “You know- uh-  he could do a couple of hours,” Emily said looking between Y/N and JJ. 

 “What could possibly go wrong?” Spencer asked. 

 “Well now that you said that, something definitely will,” Y/N said, her superstitious side showing. 

 “Alright fine,” JJ caved.  

-  

 “Whooo!” Spencer cheered obnoxiously loud as they stood gate side of Hotch’s triathlon. “Couple hours, Couple hours! You guys didn’t even come home till sunrise,” he said looking at the four very hungover women. 

 Their eyes were covered with their sunglasses as they leaned against the gate, heads pounding from the cheers and alcohol. 

 “Why are yelling,” JJ said as she looked up then away from Spencer. 

 “Make him stop,” Emily said looking down to Y/N who stood beside Spencer. 

 “With pleasure,” Y/N said, getting up from her position of leaning against the gate to than grabbing Spencer’s face. “Spencer, I really don’t want to slap that pretty little face of yours I adore so much-” Spencer blushed at Y/N’s words- “but if you do not stop yelling I will.” 

 He nodded his head as she let go of his face and laid her head on his arm.  

 “Okay, hey Jack earmuffs for a minute, earmuffs,” Derek said tapping Hotch’s son that sat on his shoulders. “What did you guys drink last night?”

 “The green fairy, you’re in the FBI, can you make the crowd stop cheering?” Penelope pleaded to Derek next to her. 

 “By my estimates, Hotch will be finishing any minute now,” Spencer said looking at his watch, making Y/N lift her head as his arm moved. 

 “Do you see him, Uncle Dave?” Jack asked as he looked down at Rossi from Derek’s shoulders. 

 “I think I do kiddo, right there!” Rossi said as he pointed to Hotch running down the course. 

  Y/N clapped along with JJ and Emily and winced at Spencer’s loud cheering but let it slide since it was for Hotch. Hotch smiled as he saw the team cheering for him as he crossed the finish line. When he crossed, the team walked over to the table he was getting his water and medal from, Jack beating them all there as he was so excited to congratulate his dad. 

  “Did you see my sign?” Jack asked, jumping excitedly. 

 “I did, that’s for you, buddy,” Hotch said placing a medal around Jack’s next he was given.

 “Look at you, how do you feel?” Rossi asked. 

 “I think I’m gonna live,” responded Hotch as he took another sip of his water.

 “Pretty impressive, I had money on the swim killing you,” Emily laughed. 

 “My bet was the bike ride,” Y/N added, grabbing Spencer’s hand and then laying her head on his arm again. 

 “I practiced,” Hotch said still trying to regain his breath. 

 “And it paid off, good job,” Derek said congratulating Hotch.

 “Thank you.” 

 “Hey, you guys want to go get something to eat?” Spencer asked the team. 

 “Yeah, something greasy,” JJ said pushing her sunglasses up her nose.

 “Oh yeah,” Emily agreed. 

 “Please,” Y/N added. 

 “Hotchner!” A voice of a woman was heard making the team turn their heads. 

 “Beth! Jack, there’s somebody I want you to meet,” Hotch said guiding his son over to, the now identified, Beth. 

 “Awe,” Y/N said at the cute moment they were watching. 

 The team laughed at Y/N’s audible feelings and began to walk as they saw Hotch lead Beth and Jack towards their group. 

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

 Y/N and Spencer walked into Y/N’s apartment together after eating lunch with the rest of the team. Spencer came with her to grab some of the things he left from the other night staying there. 

 “I’m going to go to the bathroom real quick,” Y/N told Spencer who nodded back with a tight-lipped smile.

 After Spencer grabbed his things he placed them on the round table that was to the left of Y/N’s kitchen. His eyes became drawn to the white envelope with a wax seal with a bird imprint on it. Curiosity getting the better of him, he picked it up inspecting it. Before he could open it though, Y/N walked back into the room. 

 “What’cha lookin’ at?” She asked as she approached Spencer. 

 He turned around to face her, showing her the letter in his hand. Her face grew white with horror, she hadn’t received a letter in 3 weeks. 

 “Where- where was that?” She asked, walking over and grabbing it out of Spencer’s hand, beginning to open it frantically. 

 “On the table,” he responded pointing to where it laid on the table previously. 

 “Oh god,” Y/N said, knowing that meant she had gotten into her apartment somehow this time. 

 “Y/N, what’s wrong, what is it?” Spencer asked trying to get answers from her. 

 “Agh,” Y/N said softly as she cut herself on the paper from the envelope.  

 “Hey, hey, slow down,” Spencer told her, grabbing the envelope from her hand.

 “Will you please just open it and read to me what it says,” she said sitting in the chair she pulled out from the table, placing her head in her hands. 

 “Yeah-yeah, sure,” he responded opening the letter. “ ‘Nothing lasts forever Y/N’ from C.R., what is this, who’s C.R.?” 

 Y/N thought back to the dream she had a couple of nights ago before they left. 

 “Nothing lasts forever Y/N, you know that.” 

 The voice echoed in her head. She lifted her head up from her hands looking at Spencer who had kneeled himself in front of her. 

 “Caroline Roberts,” she told him. “Spencer I need to tell you something.” 

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added!!):

@throughparisallthroughrome​ @word-scribbless​ @nintendumbfuck​ @confused-and-really-hungry​ @justine-en​ @andiebeaword​ @itsarayofsunshine​ @baby-i-am-fireproof​ @abitofeverythinggg​

[jungshookz]

the one with the scrunchie

➺ pairing; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; universitystudent!yoongiverse!!!!! uni!yoongi is the broody skater boy that everyone has a crush on!! y/n will never see her scrunchies in the same way ever again and also in case it wasn’t already blatantly obvious by the gif above this drabble is 98% smut and the other 2% is also smut (dirty talk! thigh riding! yoongi has really nice thighs!!!) 

➺ wordcount: 4.4k i feel like this is shorter than usual i’m soRry 

➺ summary; yoongi believes that one scrunchie is just as capable as a pair of handcuffs - it’s time to put that theory to the test. 

➺ what to expect; “i wouldn’t mind being more intimate with you but i don’t know how and also i’m just not ready to take my clothes off yet.”

➺ optional reading: not necessary but feel free to read some other drabbles from the uni!yoongiverse! 

➺ note; we all knew this was going to happen as soon as yoongi formulated the scrunchie theory so buCKLE up and be prepared!! happy valentine’s day!!! mwah mwah!!! (i couldn’t locate the original creator of the gif but it was pulled off of this pinterest page!) if you can guess which specific part of the drabble was inspired by the gif then i’ll give u a gold star 

                                           »»————-　♡　————-««

min yoongi does not beat around the bush

sure, he’s been known to be overly blunt and a little too honest at times (aka a little bit of an asshole) but that’s just part of who he is and that’s not going to change

he attacks problems head-on and with the confidence of a bull charging towards a waving red flag

and yet

here he is, with a problem

except this is the first time he’s ever had a problem with his problem

here’s the problem: ...he doesn’t know if you’re physically attracted to him or not 

whICH he understands is kind of silly because he knows you’re certainly not with him for his brains because his grades are mediocre at best

he’s riding the 70s-80s range which he’s completely fiNE with by the way

keep your judgements to yourself! 

what was he talking about again

oh righT

he feels like you don’T want him to touch you for some reason??

which is a teensy little problem because call him old fashioned but he thinks that people who are together should probably be okay with touching each other

obviously if you aren’t ready for anything more than kissing on the sofa and some light petting that is totally okay and he completely understands 

it’s just weird because you always seem very eager to touch him but when he gets his hands on you you get all bashful and blushy (which is cute for the most part but that’s not the point) 

whenever he wants to return the favour you always shake him off and tell him that he can help you out next time

and then when next time rolls around you tell him that he can do something next time

and then when next time rolls around you tell him that he can do something nExt time until it turns into an endless cycle of ‘it’s okay, you can return the favour next time!’ in which he’ll nEVer ever return the favour! 

and so on and so forth

also it’s weird because he doesn’t really know if he can even classify this as a problem?? 

for the millionth time in a row he’s totally 100% fine if you aren’t ready to do anything just yet but he wouldn’t be so riled up about it if it weren’t for the fact that your butt looks fantastic in those jeans  

he can’t help but wonder if it’s his time of the month because his hormones are raging and everything you do turns him on 

like the other day when you were eating your sandwich you licked some mayo off your finger and yoongi nearly [censored] 

is he just thinking with his head and not with his head???

now that he’s really thinking about it he realises that he’s never actually gotten you off before

wha-

he’s nEVER given you an orgasm????????

so yeah

that’s pretty much it

he’s boiled it down to you being completely rePULsed by him

it’s just been on his mind ever since the two of you officially got together and he doesn’t really know how to phrase this without sounding like a complete dick

he feels a little bad because he’s supposed to be paying attention to what you’re teaching him but his mind just won’t let him focus and he feels like if he doesn’t ask you this rigHt now he’s going to explode from the inside out

his arm shoots up in the air (you asked him to start raising his hand instead of just blurting out the answer even though he’s literally your only student)

“do you not like me touching you?” yoongi blurts out before pausing

…okay yeah there were probably a million better ways to have worded that question

you look up at yoongi with wide eyes as you stare at him across the table

ok

well

you don’t know what this has to do with chemistry but you’ll bite

“maybe i wasn’t clear enough-” you click the cap back onto the marker before setting it down “but when i asked you if you had any questions, i meant questions that were related to intermolecular forces or nuclear fusion.”  

…has he even been paying attention to anything you’ve been saying this whole time???

hm

you’re going to have to test him later with a surprise pOP quiz >:-)

“oh yeah well i have a toN of questions about whatever you were talking about but we’ll get to that after you answer my question.” yoongi drops his pen before leaning back against his chair “so, please - answer my question.”

“well, i… i have to be honest, i don’t really understand your question.” your brows knit together and you purse your lips in thought “of course i like you touching me! i mean, sure, i’m a little germaphobic but i hold your hand all the ti-“

“not like that, y/n. i mean the other kind of touching.” yoongi sighs and leans forward a little bit

you’re about to tell him you’re not sure what he means when it suddenly registers in your brain what exactly he’s referring to

oh

that kind of touching

well

you and yoongi have.,,. definitely.,. fooled around before but a lot of those interactions have been limited to heated makeout sessions anD that one time u gave him a blowie before class

and also that hand job in the back of the library

…and then another blowie back at your apartment

but other than that you guys haven’t done anything else

and it’s not that you don’t want to be intimate with yoongi

in fact you’d have to be craZy to not want to jump his bones buT the one thing that’s holding you back is that you’re just not ready to expose yourself to him like just yet

even the thought of flashing your bra strap to him is making you queasy

and it’s not because of anything he’s done!!

he’s always very considerate with you and he never pushes you to do anything that you don’t want to do

like that one time his hand was slowly sliding down to your butt (this was very early on when you two weren’t a thing yet but you had makeout sessions like a pair of hormonal teenagers) but you stopped it before it could reach its destination

and since then his hands have not wandered at all!

actually that’s a lie he did glide over your bum the other day but he’s allowed to do that now because he’s ur boyfriend so

and it’s not like you aren’t handsy yourself, miss let-me-slide-my-hands-underneath-yoongi’s-shirt

so if you think about you’re just doing a lot of giving and basically none of the receiving which you thought yoongi would be ecstatic about but apparently not

anyways

this is literally just a you thing

it’s a mixture of insecurity and anxiousness and overwhelmingness all rolled up into one big ball that’s just sitting in the pit of your stomach

you’re sure you’ll get over it one day

but today is not that day

“-because i’d love to go down on you if you’d let me.” yoongi finishes his rant and you feel your cheeks immediately redden

wha-  

what the heCk was he talking about when you blanked out

“no, i d- i do want to… do things with you but i… i don’t know, i would rather just keep my clothes on, that’s all.” you mumble sheepishly and scratch the back of your neck

yoongi’s eyes widen a little and he perks up “so you… don’t mind me touching you?”

“of course i don’t mind you touching me.” you snort before rolling your eyes “anyway, as i was say-“

“as long as we keep our clothes on?”

you have a feeling yoongi is no longer focusing on chemistry

in fact you doubt he was even paying attention from the very beginning 

“i… yeah! pretty much.” you shrug “i just, um, i don’t know if i want any hands down my pants yet. hands on the butt is welcome.”

you probably sound like an idiot right now

you can’t do things with yoongi while fully cloTHED

“okay, i think i get it…?” yoongi narrows his eyes a little

uh oh

you recognise that look

that’s the ‘i’m just going to pretend like i know what you’re talking about but i actually have no idea what the hell you’re talking about’ look

you’ve seen it many times before

that’s fair though because you’re basically telling him you wanna do stuff with him but also you don’t wanna do stuff with him so how can you wrap up your main points in one single sentence??

“i wouldn’t mind being more intimate with you but i don’t know how and also i’m just not ready to take my clothes off yet.” you blurt out and keep your eyes glued to yoongi’s face to see if he gets it now

“oh!” yoongi lets out a ‘huh’ before nodding to himself “okay, i get it now. yeah, i totally understand. also, i hope it doesn’t seem like i’m pressuring you into anything, it’s just that this is my first time being with someone who doesn’t have a lot of experie- noT that that’s a bad thing, i just- you know, you’re you and i’m me- okay, uh, i’m not explaining this very well-“

now you’re the one who’s barely paying attention to the other because you are getting wAY too into your head about this

was your explanation super lame??

oh god

why are you so nervous all of a sudden

maybe you should come up with another excuse to make yourself sound less lame

“also, this might sound a little silly,” you snort and shake your head “but if you had your head in between my legs i honestly wouldn’t know what to do with my hands, and that’s just one more thing i’d have to worry about! so if you think about it maybe this is just a blessing in disguise!”  

yoongi pauses before the corner of his mouth twitches in a tiny smirk

“i could cuff you to the bed.”

oh dear lord

you feel your cheeks get even reDDer and you clear your throat before whipping back around to face the whiteboard “so! let’s get back into it…”

in your haste to change the subject you fail to notice the ‘i have a very sneaky plan up my sleeve’ look on yoongi’s face

so from what he understands:

a) you DO want to be more intimate with him (yay!!) (but a respectful, non-selfish yay)

b) you DO want to keep your clothes on

c) you DON’T know what to do with your hands

okay

he can work with that

he can definitely work with that

yoongi presses his lips together to hide his smile when it hits him

he knows exactly what to do

fun fact: yoongi has actually never celebrated valentine’s day before

well

okay

he haS celebrated valentine’s day before but this is the first time he’s actually cared about valentine’s day

and usually he forgets that valentine’s day exists (he really doesn’t understand why it’s so special) so when his previous significant others would ask him what he got for them his go-to was aLways something related to the bedroom because it was kind of an easy way out and made both parties happy

and he’s never stuck around to celebrate more than one valentine’s day with the same person which is pretty nice because that way he can’t be accused of recycling gift ideas

anyways

what was he talking about again?

oh riGHt

valentine’s day presents

not only did he surprise you but he also surprised himSelf when he bought a dozen red roses for you AND a box of bougie chocolate covered strawberries

because he’s literally never done this before so he decided that if he was going to go all out it was going to be for someone he genuinely really liked

and that person is u :-)

and then he made a comment about how valentine’s day is really just part of the whole ‘gross commercialisation of a day that really has no meaning to it’ scheme before presenting you with a brand new scrunchie

and it wasn’t the gorgeous roses or the rich chocolate that got you excited

it was your brand new heart-patterned scrunchie

the base is white but it has little red hearts dotted all over it and it’s the cuTEST and you immediately put it on as soon as yoongi gave it to you

he ordered it off etsy!! anD he paid for express shipping

and if that doesn’t show you how much he cares about you he doesn’t know what will

and you know what

yoongi would buy you a hundred more scrunchies because you are all over him right now and he is very into that

also it might be due to the fact that the chocolate-covered strawberries were actually champagne infused chocolate-covered strawberries (he was wondering why they were so exPENSIVE) because he can usually hold himself back pretty well (aka after a particularly heated makeout session he’ll politely excuse himself to the washroom for ten minutes even though you always insist on helping him out but most of the time he declines because he wants to return the favour but he can’T) but tonight.,.,. 

tonight he’s putting in extrA effort to keep it together because you slid his hands down to your bum and he nearly lost his shIT

here’s a sum-up of the night:

yoongi took you out to a nice dinner even though you insisted you’d be fine with ordering takeout or something (also he wore a crisp white button up but he rolled the sleeves up and you sweAR he knows exactly what he’s doing)

you guys went to a little donut shop afterwards and you got powdered sugar all over yourself but c’est la vie

and now you two are at your apartment where you decided to binge-watch netflix for the rest of the night and enjoy the chocolate-covered strawberries

and well

only half the box of strawberries have been consumed because now the two of you are kind of focused on enjoying each other

your hands instinctively slide down to pop the button on yoongi’s jeans but before they get a chance to reach it yoongi grabs your wrist and brings your arms back up around his neck  

“you know how you said you wanted to be more intimate with me but you didn’t know how?”

you clear your throat before pursing your lips

if this is him talking dirty it’s not working  

“…are you talking about the conversation we had at the beginning of last week?” you wonder out loud before shaking your head gently “yoongi, listen, it really isn’t a big deal, you don’t have to do anything for me-“

“and do you remember what you said about not knowing what to do with your hands?” yoongi interrupts you and his eyes flicker up to the scrunchie peeking out from the back of your head

“well, yeah, but- is there a point to all of this?” you sigh before leaning forward to smush your cheek against yoongi’s shoulder

“do you trust me?” yoongi hums and pokes the tip of your nose

“of course i trust you.”

also

unrelated but you need a pick me up

another one of those strawberries will do

you’re going to ask yoongi to get these evEry valentine’s day because they are obscenely delicious

you pull away from yoongi and turn to reach for another strawberry and at the same time yoongi reaches over and tugs the scrunchie off from your head 

“wha- hey!” you whip around as your hair falls around your face before noticing that yoongi’s giving your scrunchie a bit of a stretch “what do you think you’re doing?”

yoongi can’t help but laugh lightly at your pouty face before he pats his lap “i want you here.”

yoongi’s speaking to you a little more assertively than usual anD he has that familiar gleam in his eyes 

hm

okay

you’ll play along 

the strawberries can wait

you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you settle on yoongi’s lap before resting your hands on his chest to keep yourself from toppling over

“good. now arms behind your back.”

your brows knit together slightly in confusion but you figure it’s best not to question yoongi because he seems pretty sure of himself

and you sure as hell have no idea what’s about to go down

this is weird

usually you’re the one in control

you feel like you want to fill the silence by talking about something and for some reason you can hear your heart drumming wildly in your chest even though you don’t have a reason to be nervous

...right? 

yoongi reaches behind you and pulls your hands through the scrunchie before moving them gently so that one wrist is crossed over the other and-

oh

oh

you can’t seem to wiggle out of the scrunchie

“not too tight?” yoongi murmurs

you shift your hands a little

yep 

definitely noT getting out of this any time soon 

“i can handle it.” you respond quietly and yoongi feels himself twitch in his pants

noPe

tonight is not about him

tonight is about you

you’ve never been restrained like this before but the idea of yoongi being completely in control is getting you far more riled up than you’d like to admit

“if at any point you feel uncomfortable,” yoongi murmurs against your skin as he moves his kisses up your chest, “the safe word is strawberry.”

“mhm, strawberry, got it.” you sigh impatiently, barely paying any attention to what yoongi’s saying because his mouth has travelled up onto your bare neck  

“good. on my thigh.” yoongi spreads his legs a little and you feel your heart hiccup in your chest

oh

you know exactly where this is going

you wobble slightly as your knees settle on the soft couch on either side of yoongi’s clothed thigh and yoongi smiles fondly

“comfy?”

“mhm.”

unsurprisingly, yoongi’s thigh is vEry firm  

it’s from all that skateboarding

you’re sure of it

you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little worked up from the ten minutes of copious kissing but now that you’re sitting on yoongi’s thigh you can definitely confirm that you are: worked up

yoongi places his hands on your waist and pulls you closer until your torso is pressed against his 

typically this would be the point where you drape your arms around yoongi’s shoulders but the fact that you can’t do that right now is torture and yoongi can see the frustration swimming in your eyes

you’re about to tell him to do something, anything, before he suddenly pushes your hips back and flexes his thigh at the same time

you let out a gasp when your body instinctively spasms a little bit out of surprise

that is definitely a new feeling

it’s a very good thing you decided to wear a skirt tonight

a pitiful whimper slips past your lips at the feeling of the rough fabric of yoongi’s jeans rubbing up against you through your panties

“like that?” yoongi pulls you towards him and then backwards again and he swallows thickly when he notices how blown out your pupils are

now that you know what yoongi’s plan is, your body seems to go into autopilot mode

you start moving on your own as your muscles begin to melt into him but yoongi’s hands stay glued on your hips as he guides you back and forth

the two of you share licking, burning kisses as you continue to ride yoongi’s leg and yoongi lets out a grunt when your knee digs into his crotch

“y/n, fuck-“ yoongi pulls away when you do it again

he can’t tell if you’re doing it on purpose or if it’s unintentional but he has to shift the focus bAck to you

yoongi takes his bottom lip in between his teeth as he watches you grind your hips back and forth with hooded lids

his hands slide down so that they rest on either side of your thighs

he lets out a low groan when he realises that this would be his exact view if you were actually riding him

“yoongi-“ you hiccup pathetically when you feel that particular spot within you flutter

your nails dig into the soft flesh of your palms when you suddenly feel the urge to get your hands on your boyfriend

yoongi’s mouth twitches in a smirk when he notices your shoulders straining

it looks like his makeshift handcuffs are working veRY well

he’s definitely going to use them again in the future

“something the matter?” yoongi mocks with a slight pout of his lips

“god, you- this was the worst idea ever and i hate you-“ you shudder as you continue grinding against his firm leg

you can’t even find the words to describe how incredible this feels and the only thing going through your mind is fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck because fuCK this feels good

“oh yeah? show me how much you hate me-“ yoongi’s hands find their way underneath your skirt and his fingers dig into your bum to bring you closer to him

he has to admit that he’s losing his grips on the reins a little bit because the more you grind against him the more turned on he gets

and he is currently very, very turned on

you’re riding his leg anD your boobs are like right at his eye-level so he’s kind of living the dream right now

but also in a way he’s torturing himself too because he usually loves it when you slide a hand down his chest or when you bury your fingers into his hair

“fuck, i can feel how wet you are-” yoongi groans just under your ear and you let out a choked moan in response 

you never thought something like this would be as hot as it is but also it’s the idea of you being bare on his leg that’s making the two of you go crazy

another wave of pleasure tremors through your body and your head dips back as yoongi kisses up your throat

“that’s it… you’re so pretty like this… so needy…” yoongi curses quietly when he notices the darkened patch on his jeans

he slips an arm around your waist to keep you balanced and he uses his other hand to take your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger so that you’ll look at him

“god, look at you… you’re doing so well…” yoongi knows that getting approval is something that’s verY important to you but he’s only seen you get excited over it when it comes to projects and assignments

and you obviously want to hear another remark of approval considering the way you start to roll your hips more smoothly

but it’s when you take his thumb into your mouth that yoongi ascends to a whole new level of turned on

he leans back against the couch and his hands start to forcefully guide your hips so that you’re rocking against him harder, faster

“yoongi, i think- nngh-“ you pant and your shoulders strain even more in a desperate attempt to wiggle out of the scrunchie “oh, god-“

he can tell by the way your breathing has become increasingly shallow and how your cheeks have gotten progressively pinker that you’re almost there and he’s definitely going to keep this image of you in his brain for a long time

“gonna cum for me?” yoongi growls as his hands grip at your ass to mould you to him

you head starts spinning from pleasure and you feel every nerve in your body begin to go into overdrive

all you can focus on is how good this feels and how hot it is that yoongi’s in complete control over you and how you are definitely going to want to do this again-

“you have no idea how badly i wanna fuck you right now.” yoongi groans and thAt pretty much does the the trick

“ah-!” you let out a sharp cry as your whole body tenses up as your orgasm rocks through you

your toes curl and your legs tighten around yoongi’s thigh and you sweAr you would’ve blacked out if it weren’t for yoongi keeping you anchored to him while pressing reassuring kisses along your shoulder

he has his arm wrapped around you while his other hand loosens its grip on the side of your thigh

you’re panting like you just ran a marathon and you lean forward to press your forehead against yoongi’s “hi.”

“hey.” yoongi’s out of breath too but he has no idea why lol

if anything, seeing you work through your orgasm has gotten him even harDer but he reminds himself for the millionth time that the purpose of this whole scrunchie thing was so that you’d be more comfortable being intimate with him

“how was that?”

“really nice.” you respond almost instantaneously and yoongi feels a sense of pride bloom within him

you’re not the only one who likes getting approval!!!

he reaches behind you and pulls the scrunchie off and placing it next to him

your wrists have gone a little pink considering how much tugging you did and yoongi brings them up to his mouth to sweep soft kisses over them

your cheeks flush for a different reason when yoongi leans up to give you an affectionate little kiss

when you finally drape your arms around his shoulder you can’t help but let out a happy sigh

now thIS feels a lot better

“you okay?” yoongi can’t help but notice that you’ve gone quiet

“…was the purpose of buying the scrunchie for me just so you could turn them into makeshift handcuffs?” your eyes narrow suspiciously and you glance down at the scrunchie

yoongi turns to look at it before looking back over at you

he clears his throat

“if i say yes does that make me a bad boyfriend?”

(later that night you tell yoongi you’d like to try grinding on him again - only this time, you’ve requested that he have his hands tied.) 

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