#can you just assume it's still the case and go forth?

[bunysliper]

*

[auroralwriting]

the gun

spencer reid x genius!bau!reader

oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, they both reached for the gun, the gun, the gun…

"you just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius."

word count: 2.3k

warnings: cm violence, blood, enemies to lovers, kinda rushed im sorryyyy, fem reader slightly mentioned

a continuation of this story can be found here

Spencer and you always competed. He had an eidetic memory, you had a photographic.

The difference between you two was anything you ever saw, read, you held in long-term memory. Spencer’s, though, resided in short term. However, Spencer was also an autodidact, meaning he could teach himself anything. You also had a vast emotional intelligence. You had such strong empathy, you could detect any micro-detail anyone displayed, making you the perfect lie-detector one that even Hotch couldn’t evade.

Spencer was Jason Gideon’s special boy. Gideon helped Spencer make his way in the BAU. You were David Rossi’s special girl, him noticing your skills from a young age when he met you during a case. He guided you to make all the best choices, leading you to the BAU as well. It took a few years, timing and all, but you got there.

When Dave transferred to Quantico’s BAU, he requested your transfer as well. He thought you would mesh well with the team. More specifically, he assumed you and Spencer would become a genius duo; totally unstoppable.

Oh, how wrong he was. It was from the moment you’d corrected Spencer on some statistic he spewed, you both became enemies forced to co-exist on the same team. There was never a civil moment, always some fight. It was sad, too. You remembered the first time you saw him, you were struck by how cute he was. Too bad he decided to hate you before you got a chance.

Vividly, you remembered the most intense fight you both had.

“So someone with a medical degree,” Hotch muttered. “That’s got to be impossible.”

“It’s more likely that have a nursing degree.” Spencer replied. “We’d be looking at around one hundred eighty thousand people a year. If our unsub is a new graduate, that’s the numbers we’d be looking through.”

You shook your head, “It’s actually one hundred fifty seven thousand. Also, narrow it down to nursing degrees in New York, and you get around eight thousand. Eleven percent were men, so around six hundred. Lower it even more to those who don’t have any family members, most likely from group homes, you can get maybe seventy?”

oh, yes

Garcia clacked away at her keyboard, “My baby’s got it! Seventy two people. If we’re looking at NYU specifically, thirteen.”

Pride filled your system. It was fulfilling when you were able to get things right. Spencer, on the other hand, wasn’t too happy about that.

“You know, nobody asked your opinion.” He scoffed.

“It isn’t opinion, Reid. It’s purely fact, ones you should probably get right.” Your reply had Spencer clenching his fists.

How dare you insult his intelligence? His IQ was much larger than yours, you weren’t one to speak on that. “Maybe you should focus on the case instead of trying to be a people pleaser,” Spencer sneered your way.

His reply made you roll your eyes, “At least I can tell what people want. You’re oblivious, Reid.”

oh, yes

Slowly, the two of you began to go back and forth, your voices raising. Before the situation blew up, Hotch stepped in, trying to mediate. However, Spencer mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t just let go. It hurt, stung like a bee, and you weren’t going to let him walk away feeling victorious.

“At least my mentor didn’t up and leave me.” you snapped. “He’s still with me, he didn’t just vanish with a stupid little note as a dingy goodbye.”

Spencer had paused, face dropping. You read him like a book, you’d gone too far. He showed minuscule signs of distress, grief, sadness. The room was silent, no one quite knew what to say.

oh, yes

“Reid, I-”

“Save it.”

Spencer had walked away, leaving you to feel shameful of your words. Rossi just squeezed your shoulder. The man knew you didn’t mean it.

they both

Since then, it was like the two of you were on each other’s cases, constantly bickering and arguing. Now, you were almost subconsciously battling each other for the genius role of the team. Was there any need to? No, not at all, but your fights had become not a battle, but a war.

You stood outside the bank with your team. “They have hostages,” You identified, attempting to peer inside. “There’s no way we can go in. It’s a suicide-murder mission.”

oh, yes

“There’s gotta be a way,” JJ shook her head. “Maybe there’s another way in.”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Derek sighed.

After a few hours, Will made the decision to go inside. You had to help hold back JJ as he walked in. Hearing the bullets made you sick. You physically had to double over, holding back the tears. It suddenly hit you how dire the situation was. You went back to the van with the team. No one really knew what to say.

"Did you see where he was shot?" JJ asked. "Is he alive or dead, Garcia?"

Penelope's breath was shaky, "I don't know."

"He was wearing a vest." Emily reasoned. "He might be okay."

JJ gave a smile, but it was one of disbelief. "Might be," She muttered, shaking her head in reply.

It was then that the team decided to go in. You shoved your gun in your holster, "I'll take first point," You offered. "Check and see if Will's okay. I'll try and manipulate them into letting me go to him." Hotch nodded. With your knowledge of psychology and your emotional intelligence, Hotch knew you could do it.

they both

"L/n, it's too dangerous." You heard Spencer say over the phone. "Just wait for me to tell you where to go in."

You rolled your eyes, "Reid, I'm not stupid. I've handled multiple hostage situations."

Spencer didn't reply. You liked that. This was the first time you'd be able to prove yourself without Spencer's help. This was honestly just a way for you to prove you were the better of the two. Your actions were motivated by the desire to be the best; a classic narcissistic move. You weren't a narcissist, though. You just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius.

Oddly enough, hostages flooded out of the bank as you made your way back outside. Maybe Will was alive and managed to get them all out. Once none more came out, you and two other cops began to make your way inside stealthily.

Right as you got in the middle of the bank, you heard Rossi's panicked voice over your comms, "Abort, abort!"

oh, yes

There was no time to reply. It all happened so suddenly. You heard the explosion before you felt it. It was hard to breathe. You couldn't see, hear. It slowly registered that there was a bomb, and it went off.

they both reached for

You had no clue where you had been thrown to. Everything felt cold, really cold. A loud ringing filled your ears as you slowly sat up. You touched your head, pulling back to feel stickiness on your fingers. Your vision was blurry, but you knew it was blood. You had to get out of the building. You needed help, medics, your team. Was anyone else in your team inside yet?

they both reached for the gun

A grunt left your lips as you stood up. You felt your legs give out under you, and you went down again. The desire to live was stronger than your physical weakness, and you stood up again. It was so dusty and hazy that you couldn't see. You leaned on the nearest wall for support, slowly using it to try and find your way out of the building. All that you heard in your head was get out, survive, get out, survive.

After what felt like ages, you felt a breeze against your skin. You followed it, hoping it would lead out, and it did. The light was harsh on your eyes as you tried to scan the area. It was then you saw Spencer and Hotch-- what was Spencer doing here? He was still at the BAU last you'd checked. Maybe the blast knocked you out cold.

Trudging your way over, you weakly called out. "Aaron, Spencer,"

the gun

Spencer knew he heard his name. He looked up from the blueprints of the building to see you, blood covering different parts of your body, your skin covered in debris and dust. You had limp, and your eyes were blown out. "Oh my god," he muttered, running over to you.

the gun

The genius took your in his arms as you fell into him, "How'd you get here?" you asked. "What's for dinner?"

Spencer took notice of your confusion as he allowed you to lean on him. He took your face in his hands, "Y/n, look at me. Focus on me,"

the gun

You couldn't directly look at him. Your eyes darted all over the place. "Where's Rossi? Did he go in?"

"No, Rossi's okay." Spencer leaned over his shoulder, "We need a medic!" He yelled, quickly turning his attention back to you. "It's okay, you're okay."

oh, yes

"I can't feel anything," you breathed out, "That can't be normal. Is that normal? Spencer, am I dying?"

oh, yes

Spencer shook his head, "You're okay, it's okay."

"I can't die," You softly whimpered. "I'm sorry, Spencer. 'M so mean to you, I don't mean to be."

Deep down, Spencer knew you meant what you were saying. The fear of dying without getting your true feelings out always lead to admissions of the truth. "I know, I know," Spencer smoothed your hair. "I don't hate you, I don't. You're going to be okay." Spencer slowly became anxious as he noticed the amount of blood seeping from your head. "Look at me, please, keep talking to me."

"'M sorry," You muttered, feeling your eyes grow heavy. Spencer's face began to fade as you collapsed in his arms.

Spencer felt his breathing grow heavy as he held you tightly. "Medic! She's-- oh, god, Help!"

they both reached for the gun.

A steady beeping was the first thing you heard as you woke up. The light was a blinding white, and you let out a groan at it. Your body hurt like hell, and your head was pounding.

"Shh, shh. It's okay, here, let me just--"

The white lights went out and all that was left was the stream of daylight coming through the windows, along with a lamp that was a warmer light. It was much more comfortable that way. You quickly guessed you were in a hospital. The beeping, white lights, smell of rubbing alcohol that you just identified.

"How do you feel?"

Spencer. You turned your head to look at him. His face held deep concern. He was holding your hand. "I--" You paused, considering his question. "I feel like shit."

He let out a soft chuckle, "Yeah. You kind of got exploded." That's right, the bomb.

"Oh, Will, the team, are they okay?" You softly asked.

Spencer nodded, "Everyone's okay, we got the unsubs. It's all okay now."

You remembered Spencer's words. You should have waited to go in. If you had waited, maybe you wouldn't be in this situation right now. "I should've listened to you." You stated weakly. "You were right. I was being stupid."

"Hey, no," Spencer quickly interrupted. "You were doing your job."

"I wasn't," you shook your head. "I wanted to prove myself. I-I wanted.. to show that I didn't just do victimology and simple hostage relief situations. I wanted to prove myself like you have." You stopped, sucking in a pained breath. You felt your eyes become glassy. "I wanted to prove to everyone I was just as good as you."

Spencer felt his heart break at your words. You both knew overall, he was smarter. It never occurred to him that your constant bickering was to prove yourself, and not to prove him wrong. "You're better." Spencer decided to say. "I mean, I can't relate to our victims, hell, our unsubs the way you can."

"Spencer,"

"I'm serious." He continued. "You're so important to this team. You-you push us to be better." Spencer cleared his throat, "You push me to be better."

You stared at Spencer blankly for a moment, "I never told you that I like this haircut."

Spencer gave you a slightly surprised look. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," You hummed. "It makes you look, I don't know, less like Einstein and more like, uh, a really smart James Dean."

"James Dean," Spencer repeated, "I've never gotten that one before. Are those meds talking right now?"

You shook your head slowly, "Probably the clearest I've thought in a while." You replied, causing Spencer to smile. "Why did you stay with me?"

Spencer paused for a moment, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know we bicker a lot. Well, more than a lot. Probably several times a day, but I still care about you. I-I was.. really scared for you. I don't think I could forgive myself if I let you walk in there and you'd died."

"It wouldn't have been your fault," You tried. Spencer just shook his head.

"It would have been. I should've rationalized it with you. When I saw you, I just thought, 'What have I been doing this whole time? Have I really been wasting my breath arguing with you when we could've made the best team'? I remember when Rossi first introduced you, I was like, 'No way someone this pretty is doing this', when you should've been some model or something." Spencer rambled. He did that, paired with hand fidgeting, when he was nervous. He rambled as he played with your fingers.

You took a breath in, hoping for the best. "Hey, maybe we could, uh, go to one of those team based trivia nights at O'Keefe's?"

"Are-are you asking me out?" Spencer asked.

"Only if you're saying yes." You responded. "I, uh, maybe thought we could start over."

Spencer gave a chuckle, "Yeah, trivia night sounds good. I'd like a retry at this. Maybe we're, uh, meant to be more than just a team."

You smiled at him, knowing that a simple friendship wouldn't be highest point of your new relationship with the genius.

[kimstills]

blame

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader, platonic!spencer x reader summary: in which your close relationship with spencer makes aaron wonder if there’s something going on between you and the young doctor. content warnings: mentions of kidnappings, torture, child abuse (typical cm case stuff), insecurities, age gap, and haley, jealous!aaron (hb is DOWN BAD), he kind of acts like a prick in the middle of this? but it’s v brief and he apologizes!! hints of autistic!spence, angst if u squint but mostly fluff, miscommunication, technically idiots to lovers but hotch is the only idiot <3 word count: 5.1k (this was NOT supposed to be this long omfg) a/n: this was inspired by a dream i had where i was besties w reid and everyone thought i liked him until i had to blurt out that i was into older men… enjoy!!

If looks could kill, Aaron was sure Spencer would be dead by now.

It was contradicting, in a way. How he thought of Spencer like the son that had come before his actual son, yet he was staring at him like a predator stalking their next victim.

You were standing next to the young genius, shoulders brushing against shoulders as you went back and forth with the geographical profile the two of you had been assigned to work on, something Aaron was really regretting having done.

The team had been called in to assist with a case in Portland, Maine, involving an abductor-type unsub. One who would stalk his victims and learn their routines before kidnapping them, torturing them for two to three days before disposing of them in forests and parks all throughout the city.

You and Reid were both tied when it came to your skills with geographical profiles, one of the many things that had blossomed your relationship with him. But with the way the unsub was beginning to rapidly devolve, the rush to develop said profile and figure out his next move had forced Aaron to assign you two together.

Deep down he knew that it had to be done for the sake of the case and all its victims, and that it was the best decision to make as leader of the team.

But, still, he couldn’t help the jealousy that was bubbling from within him, his gaze completely focused on the way you giggled and smiled, endeared, while watching Reid struggle to tape the map one of the sheriffs had supplied you with to a spare whiteboard in the office the team had been given to work in.

He hadn’t even noticed when JJ walked up to him, the blonde hair and white button up she was wearing apparently not enough to break him out of his trance until—

“Hotch.”

Aaron snaps his head towards her, blinking in bewilderment, “Sorry, what?”

JJ stares at him with a look of both concern and amusement, a smile tugging at her lips. Her hand is raised expectantly and her eyes flicker towards the case file in his hands.

He looks down at it, brows furrowing when he finally sees the death grip he was holding the paper with. It’s slightly crumpled from where his thumb had rested, the pages wrinkled.

He clears his throat, trying to soothe out the file as subtly and smoothly as he can before handing it to JJ, “Sorry,” he grumbled.

The blonde chuckles softly, taking it from him and doing her own best to bend it back into place. She begins to flip through the pages, though she can’t help but follow Aaron’s gaze back to you and Spencer.

You had finally gotten up to help him in taping up the map, taking it from his hands and effortlessly doing so before turning around and giving him a cheeky smile.

JJ turns her attention back to him, biting back a smug smile when she sees her boss practically glaring daggers at the two of you, “I assume you’re trying to figure them out, too?” She asks, looking down at the file.

Aaron blinks, this time slowly turning his head to gaze down at her, “What do you mean?”

Her eyes widen at the realization of what she just had insinuated about her co-workers to her boss. She shrugs coolly, trying to play it off, “Nothing. They’re just really close is all,” she gives him a tight-lipped smile before quickly walking away, leaving Aaron more confused than before.

He feels his fingers twitch by his side when he glances back at you. It’s cheesy, the way his heart skips a beat when you tuck the strands of hair that had made itself to the front of your face behind your ears. His hardened features soften at the sight of you laughing at something Reid’s said, something he’s sure only the two of you understand.

Aaron’s not sure what it was that had gotten him to stick out for you like a sore thumb or how his sudden infatuation with watching and admiring you and your every move had happened.

All he could recall was that it happened, and it had happened too fast for him to begin realizing how you had begun to overcome his every thought and consume him with feelings he hadn’t felt since Haley’s passing and his marriage with her.

A part of him had told himself that he wasn’t to blame; not only were you one of the best agents he had ever worked with, but you were the loveliest and wholesome of humans.

You had your rough days, everyone on the team understandably did, yet you never failed to meet people with kindness and patience, something else that Aaron wasn’t used to receiving when it came to his co-workers. And, as much as they loved him and he loved them, even his team members were prone to calling him ‘cold’ and ‘stoic.’

While you, on the other hand would always meet him with fond, bright smiles and greetings, never once avoiding his gaze or running the opposite direction as to ‘not get in his way’ like others did.

You were like the sun peeking out of the clouds after a dark and tremendous storm, shining on him with such warmth.

So, in the end, he couldn’t really help himself from falling for you. Or for even feeling childishly jealous when you were shining your warmth onto others.

Especially with someone who apparently the rest of the team suspected you of dating.

Perhaps he couldn’t blame Spencer for falling for you, too.

Everyone meant well, and Aaron knew he was also victim to cutting him off when the boy rambled, but you were the only one who truly listened to him. Who would interrupt him gently during urgent matters and let him continue after they were solved, and never made him feel inadequate.

He doesn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before now that JJ has mentioned it—too blindsided with his own feelings for you—but he begins to wonder, though, if there actually is something more between the two of you.

He likes to think that he begins playing close attention to your mannerism, body language, and shared interactions the two of you have throughout the entirety of the case because he has to. Now that it's been brought to his attention that two of his subordinates might be in a relationship, it's his job as Unit Chief to keep tabs.

So, he watches, when the whole team is sitting in the rectangular table, debriefing with one another and sharing ideas all whilst munching on take out food.

"So, we obviously know that the significance of the victim's being dumped in nature spots is important to this guy," Morgan explains, motioning his hand around the air as he goes on, "but could it be that he kidnaps and keeps his victims in similar spots, just somewhere more secluded?"

"Spencer and I were thinking that that could be a possibility," you say, stealing a fry off of said boy's take out plate, "Maybe he doesn't live in these same places, but he could be taking them to a hidden spot somewhere in the forests, something possibly hidden by debris, wood, or anything makeshift."

Spencer doesn't even blink as you continue to steal more neglected food off his plate, continuing to sort through pictures. Aaron could see Emily and Derek give each other a knowing, smug look through his peripheral.

He manages to swallow, the tip of his middle finger and thumb tapping against one another, "What else have you two come up with regarding the geographical profile?"

"Well, besides where he himself could be living or where he could keep his victims, the whole profile is scattered," Spencer answers this time, sliding the plate towards you as he sets down a picture of each victim with the name of the forests and parks they were found in written underneath. "The first two victims were dumped in a forest, the third in a park, and the fourth in another forest.."

As he goes on, you take advantage to continue eating, the way in which he had just let you eat off his plate despite his known phobia of germs not going unnoticed by everyone else.

If that one wasn't a sign, Aaron didn't know what else was.

*

With the geographical profile being all over the place, Aaron decides on pulling you away from the task the following day, instead pairing you up with him to check out the crime scene of the most recent victim.

He doesn't know if it's the leader in him doing so, pulling you away from your original project he had tasked you to do, or if it's just the mix of both curiosity and jealousy that continues to gnaw at him.

He was a grown man, for Christ's sake. Yet he couldn't help the way his heart churned when you hold his hand for a second longer than necessary after he helps you climb up the small, but frosty hill.

"Thanks," you mumble sweetly, your shoulders brushing against him as you walk past him and towards the await detectives.

Aaron trails behind you, trying to calm his beating heart as the lead detective on the case walks you both towards the victim's body.

"This is the second victim that's been dumped in a park," you start, squatting down to inspect the cuts and bruises on the woman's face. "These sites are obviously more public than the forests, yet he still leaves them in more secluded spots, away from general view."

"Well, we ruled out that he can't feel any remorse or sympathy," Aaron adds while he looks around the now closed off park. "He holds and tortures these women for hours."

You stand from your spot, placing your hands on your hips as you look around the park. Aaron recognizes the face you make as your 'thinking' face, your eyes squinted and your nose scrunched.

"What is it?" He asks, trying to meet your wandering gaze.

“Reid and I were talking about the possibility of the unsub dumping his victims in the same places where half—if not all—of his childhood abuse took place,” you miss the way his breath hitches in his throat and the way his shoulders sag slightly, continuing. “We know that he has to be a local here from Portland—probably raised around these same areas—and that he was abused severely as a child.”

Aaron tries his best to nod as nonchalantly as possible, “Something from his childhood obviously triggered him for him to start abducting and inflict the same pain on the victims before leaving them in similar places where he could have been left as a child after being abused.”

“Exactly,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “We were theorizing around that idea for a while but weren’t too sure if the abuse could play such a huge part on his M.O.”

At the mentions of you and Reid again, Aaron couldn’t help but feel like an idiot.

Not only was he a grown man, but he was also your boss. And you were his subordinate, someone he should never had feelings for in the first place and someone he shouldn’t be feeling possessive over as if anything was to truly ever happen between you.

At first he had thought that Spencer wasn’t to blame for having the same feelings Aaron so strongly harbored for you. But, maybe, you weren’t the one to blame.

For falling for someone more your age, for someone you worked and paired so well with, for someone nobody else made such a grand effort to understand the way you did.

Not only was he a grown man and your boss, but he was also double your age, a single father, and a widower.

Swallowing harshly, he pulls out his phone from his suit’s inner pocket, “I’ll have Garcia check out any reported speculations of childhood abuse in these areas and see if she can narrow down our list,” He turns, using his height to his advantage and speeding off, leaving you completely behind.

You frown, rushing to catch up to him. You halt when you come to the same frosty hill he had helped you climb up and open your mouth to call for his help, but close it back up when you see he’s already made it back to the SUV and is climbing inside.

When you finally climb inside the car after successfully managing to climb down the hill without busting your ass, he’s talking with Garcia.

You wait patiently as he drives, the phone on speaker as he gives out quick orders that your friend rushes to catch up with. You try to take the chance of speaking up once he hangs up with her, but he’s quickly dialing for Rossi afterwards.

You’re quiet throughout the ride back to the precinct, the sudden change in mood too heavy for you to gather the courage to make any sort of conversation. Once parked in front of the building, he gets out right away, slamming the door while you’re barely unblocking your seatbelt.

You make a beeline to the conference room where you find Reid, no longer paying any mind on trying to find Aaron any longer.

Spencer jumps when you hurriedly slam the door behind you, eyes filling with worry when you lean against the wood and stare at the floor pensively, “You okay?” he asks.

“Fine,” you mumble, pushing yourself off the door and taking a seat across from him. “I just got back from the latest crime scene with Hotch and he started acting so weird after I told him about our theory of the unsub’s dumping pattern.”

“Weird how?”

You move to speak, but hesitate when you realize that going into detail about how cold your boss suddenly acted towards you after being used to receiving such kind—some might say preferable—treatment would make your friend speculate things he, of all people, did not need to speculate.

You shake your head, “Nothing. He’s probably just stressed or tired,” you drop your forehead onto the table’s cold wood, your arms stretched out in front of you. “I know I am.”

A beat of silence passes before you hear a creak and the feeling of a finger press against your index. You bite back a laugh, looking up to find Spencer leaning forward in his own seat to do a ‘finger touch,’ something you had come up with for him after realizing how persistent his germophobia was, even with the people he loved the most.

You smile at him, leaning your head on one of your forearms and pressing your finger into his.

From outside the glass-windowed office, Aaron watches you both, a solemn look on his face.

*

The case is finally closed once you and Spencer’s theory is proven right, the unsub securely put away and the green light to go home given at last. But with the late night icy weather too dangerous for the jet to take off, Aaron orders for everyone to instead turn in for the night at the hotel and head out first thing tomorrow morning instead.

He gives a silent thanks to no one in particular when he finds out it's his turn to have a room all for himself, the rotation always being cheated by Dave, Derek, or Emily that he always forgets who's next.

Shockingly enough, he's ready to turn in for the night, not even sparing an extra glance to any of the files he had brought with him as he prepares for bed. He's just about to sit down when a knock comes from behind his door, echoing throughout his room.

He lets out a quiet groan but stands nonetheless, rubbing tiredly at his face before swinging the door open. His first instinct is to snap at whoever's behind, but that's before his eyes cast over you.

You're fiddling with your fingers, dressed in your pajamas that consists of an off-the-shoulder shirt that dips low enough to show off your collarbone and the very top of your chest, your bra strap in the middle.

And, despite the chilly weather outside, you were wearing shorts. A pair of cotton shorts that peek out from underneath the shirt you were wearing and leave little to the imagination—more so, Aaron’s imagination.

Truth be told, he's seen you in a lot less. Your usual team outing outfits consisted of tank tops, baby tees, shorts, and slightly more revealing clothes.

But this, seeing you in what you would normally sleep in, sends him into a completely different spiral.

You cringe and immediately panic at the thought of having woken him up, "Sorry, were you already asleep?" you ask, taking a tentative step back.

Aaron blinks and clears his throat, the pads of his thumb and middle finger once again tapping against one another, "No," He lies. "I was barely getting ready."

Your shoulders drop and the panic dissipates as a small smile replaces it, “Oh, okay,” you bring your hands behind your back, rocking on your heels, “I just wanted to talk to you. If that’s alright?”

Aaron’s brows furrow though he immediately steps to the side to allow you in, a soft ‘of course’ following.

He takes in the way you hesitantly step in, back facing him and arms still intertwined behind your back.

You’re being respectful, probably hoping that you’re not overstepping with whatever it is that you want to talk about. And though you always are, he can’t tell if you’re nervous, worried, or filled with insomnia that you just couldn’t sleep.

“Is everything alright?” He finally asks when you don’t make a move to sit down anywhere, his hands slightly ajar to his side like he’s ready to reach out and touch you.

God, how he wishes he could touch you.

You clear your throat and turn around, “Actually, I was just coming to ask you the same thing,”

The harsh lines on Aaron’s face deepen when you take a seat on the edge of the bed, glancing beside you as a signal for him to join you.

He swallows as he does so, careful not to sit too close and award you space. His eyes flicker back up at you when he hears your breath hitch.

Seconds of silence pass before you shuffle closer to him, bringing your body forward so that you were staring at him directly.

“Are you… feeling okay?”

Aaron freezes, his movements completely stilling at your question. His mind begins to race with all the possibilities of what could have brought on your question when it clicks.

How he had concurred that you and him were completely different and could never be a possibility, and how he immediately decided that acting cold towards you would shun out the feelings he’s felt for so long now.

Another clear of his throat, he replies, “I’m fine.”

You raise a brow at him, giving him a look that shows that you know he’s not telling the truth.

“Are you sure?” you ask again, this time more firmly. “I don’t mean to overstep, but you’ve been acting rather…strange ever since you and I got back from the fifth victim’s crime scene.”

Aaron cringes at how your expression turns into a sad one, quickly masking it with one of concern afterwards.

He sighs. He supposes that if there’s a possibility that you and Spencer are dating, now’s the time to ask you about it.

He makes a show of staring directly at you in the same way he does when he’s in his ‘boss mode,’ trying to study your face before he asks the question, “Is there something I should know about you and Spencer?”

That wasn’t what you were expecting.

You’re taken aback, quite literally flinching as if you had been struck. It takes you a few seconds to take in what he’s just asked you, and you shake your head almost as if it wasn’t real.

“I’m sorry?”

The desperation gnaws at him once more, and he’s not sure which side of him wants to find out the answer.

“Are you and Spencer dating?” he asks again, voice somehow unwaveringly calm as he punctuates each word clearly.

Your mouth opens in shock, letting out a sound that’s half a scoff half a broken laugh. You look around the room in utter bewilderment.

“What correlation does my relationship with Spencer have with what I asked you?” You can’t tell if you’re angry or just confused, but you stand from the bed and stare down at him.

Aaron follows your lead, “I never noticed it before until the rest of the team pointed it out, but you two are close. Close in such a way that—” He swallows, “—as your boss, I have to ask.”

Before the rest of the team pointed it out. Of course.

You fully scoff this time, “As my boss, you should know that Spencer and I have always been close,” you concur.

“Then why can’t you look at me?”

Despite your heart hammering in your chest, you force yourself to look at him, “Excuse me?”

“You’re not looking at me, you’re getting defensive, and you’re practically avoiding the question,” he says, his own gaze practically boring into you.

“Hotch—”

“You’re deflecting by saying that I should know that you two have always been close, and while I do know that, you’re still not answering my question.”

It feels cruel of him to press you for answers like this, knowing that there was an easier way to do it.

“Reid and I are not dating!” you do your best to not shout it at him in fears of waking the rest of the team up, fists balled at your sides.

“Then why are you so nervous?” he asks, taking a step closer to you. “Why can’t you still look at me?”

“Because it’s you that I like!”

You slap your hands over your mouth immediately and the room falls silent.

Aaron blinks. Once, twice, three times.

You liked him?

You lower your hands, nervously brushing your hair behind your ears as you look around the room in a state of panic, “I-I’m just going to go,” you mumble and immediately rush towards the door.

Aaron stands the for a second, too frozen to do or say anything before his own panic settles in brazenly. His body moves before he has time to register what he's doing and what he'll do when he reaches you.

He wraps an arm around your forearm just as you open the door, halting you from stepping outside, "Y/N, wait,"

"Hotch, please," you're quick to try and release yourself from his grasp, yanking your arm towards yourself in what results as a poor attempt. "Just ignore what I said."

"I can't do that," he dips his head to try and get you to look at him but you simply avoid your gaze even more than your originally had, your cheeks flushed.

"Hotch, let me go!" you whisper-shout, once more fighting his grip. “I’m already embarrassed enough, I don’t need you chastising me anymore.”

“I’m not chastising you, Y/N,” Aaron’s sure he sounds as desperate as you probably feel, but he can’t find it in himself to let you go and ruin his one chance of bringing his feelings to the light. Even if it went against everything he had been telling himself earlier that week.

“Do you not think it’s possible for me to feel the same way?”

Your head snaps towards him, your movements suddenly rigid at his question, “W-What?”

You’re sure that, if your heart hadn’t raptured beforehand, it certainly will now.

Aaron takes you letting your guard down as the chance to bring a hand to your waist and pull you back into the room, shutting the door and thanking that nobody else from the team had emerged from the commotion.

“What do you mean by that?” you’re quick to ask, staring up at him with curious, yet hopeful eyes.

He lowers his head as to avoid your gaze this time, letting out a deep breath. Everything he wanted to do now went against everything he had told himself the day before, when he ridiculed himself for ever thinking that you would like someone such as him or that something could ever happen between you two.

“Hotch,” your voice is firm and you allow yourself to take a step closer to him. You need him to look at you, to give you some sort of clue that he didn’t just say what he said to play you, to get you to re-enter the room just so he could profile you even more. “What do you mean by that?”

Repeating your question doesn’t help him and it certainly doesn’t help the way his heart hammers in his chest, a sound so loud that he’s sure you can hear it from how close you’re standing.

“You like me?” you whisper, dipping your head to try and meet his eyes. How ironic that just a couple of seconds ago you were trying to avoid it.

Aaron shrugs, finally looking up, “How could I not?”

His boyish, yet vulnerable expression makes your breath hitch.

“I said that I had to know if there was something between you and Reid as your boss, but it was just because I was jealous,” he shakes his head, trying his best to suppress an all but amused smile. “It was immature of me, really.”

You shake your head, trying to collect both your own thoughts and everything he was telling you. He had been jealous?

“So, is that you acted that way after I told you about our theory in the park?”

The way in which he left you behind in both the park and in the parking lot of the precinct hits him like a brick, cringing at his actions, "I realized then, when you were talking about what you had both come up with, how compatible you two are. How it would make more sense for you to like someone more suited for you. I'm sorry for how I acted,"

Your heart breaks at hearing his confession, of how he, the same man you practically fell head over heels for after your first meeting, could think that he was unworthy of your attention. If you were being honest, you hadn't been hurt by the way he had acted earlier in the day, only confused as to why.

"Hotch--" you stop yourself. You take another step closer, closing the space between the both of you more and more. "Aaron,"

He snaps his head up at your usage of his first name, the way you said it so gently and naturally getting all his attention.

"I've liked you ever since I first met you," you confess. "I'll admit I was too intimidated by you to fully register what I was feeling, but the more I got to know you, the harder I began to fall. And I fell really hard," you let out a laugh, trying to ignore just how much you were putting on the line right now and how self-conscious you felt with his eyes boring into you.

"You've been with the BAU for three years," Aaron's voice is barely above a breathless murmur and he's sure you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't standing so close. "That's how long you've liked me for?"

You nod, lips pursed, "I never said anything because I thought you would never see me that way, let alone reciprocate my feelings. If I'm telling the truth, I wouldn't have said anything if it weren't for you pressing me into telling you that I was dating Reid."

Aaron smirks despite the warmth he feels on his cheeks, shrugging his shoulders and letting out a soft laugh, "Well, then I'm glad I ended up asking. Who knows how many more years we would've gone like this if I hadn't."

You both laugh, subconsciously curling towards each other when you both double over and bring yourselves even closer than before.

You stare up at him with a warm expression before casting your eyes downwards. You lift your hand to linger above his, the pads of your fingers brushing against the hairs on the back of his palm, "So, what happens now?"

Without breaking eye contact, he takes your hand in his while the other reaches for your waist once more. You let out a small yelp when he pulls you even closer, your bodies now touching and radiating the warmth you both thought you’d never be able to feel from one another.

The next few seconds are filled with bliss when he lowers his head to press his lips against yours. You’re immediately weak, letting go off his hand to place both on his shoulders as to support yourself.

The other now free hand of his comes to rest on your other hip, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts ever so possessively. A whimper escapes from your mouth and Aaron takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, doing so with so much fervor and passion that it leaves you feeling dizzy even with your eyes closed.

Aaron is relentless even after you pull away to catch your breath, the act of kissing you now something he’s inevitably hooked on. He presses kisses all over your face, from your cheek to your chin to your jaw, then all the way down to your neck.

“You know,” you cough out, flushed from the attention, “I told you how long I’ve liked you, but you didn’t tell me how long you’ve liked me.”

Aaron smiles into your skin, immediately recalling when he first realized his own feelings for you. He lifts his head to press a sweet kiss to your lips, eliciting a hum from you.

“I can tell you all the details over either a nice dinner tomorrow evening after we land,” he says, another kiss to your lips. He turns your bodies around so that his back was to bed, the mattress dipping under his weight when he sits. “Or you can spend the night here and we can stay up all night talking about it.”

His voice is sultry, and the way in which he grabs at your hips to get you to straddle him makes you flush.

“Are you already trying to seduce me?” you ask, mock offense in your tone though you happily take your guided seat on his lap, both knees on each side of his thighs.

Aaron hums this time, brushing your hair back to begin kissing at your neck again, “Can you blame me?”

He already knows your answer, he’s sure. He knows you can’t, because he can’t, either.

[mutable-manifestation]

Ghost Chirps AU Part 4

A little treat in these trying times

Part 1 & 2

Part 3

***

The first time Daniel chirps (to Vlad’s knowledge, but it’s actually the fifth, he was just out of range in the GZ all the previous time) Vlad responds immediately. 

The boy attacks him just as viciously as ever, and Vlad assumes from then on that the boy is merely taunting him, crying out for family only to go “no, not you.”

Vlad ignores it from then on. It isn’t particularly frequent anyway.

When he hears him chirping back and forth with some other ghost somewhere on the East Coast he feels his eye twitch. 

He dismisses it, however. No doubt it is one of Daniel’s little ghost allies helping him try to antagonize Vlad into showing up just to be rejected again.

Well, Vlad won’t fall for Daniel’s petty tricks. He would be Vlad’s son in time one way or another, no need to indulge the boy’s temporary sense of superiority.

It is grating when it wakes him up in the middle of the night, but he goes back to sleep quickly after.

Midday, he thinks he might have to track down Danny’s little friend for a nice long chat about Not Doing That. But that’s an issue for later.

Before “later” can arrive, Vlad finds himself taken into “temporary custody” while the police search his house.

He goes peacefully, assured that they’ll find nothing amiss, all of his ecto materials tucked neatly away in a lab that is inaccessible any way other than phasing. And wrapped in lead just in case.

He does not notice that a member of the Justice League is involved, nor would he care, certain that none could find his lab. And utterly unaware of the JLD’s existence.

Not that the JLD is needed in this case.

Despite his best efforts to change every copy of the construction crews’ blueprints both digital and physical in order to eliminate knowledge of the inaccessible room, there’s no accounting for memory.

Officer Roger worked in construction before joining the force, and it was only less than a half a year ago that Masters’ Amity home was constructed. Officer Roger still remembers the doorless, windowless box they built alongside the small mansion itself. It’s nowhere to be found on the property, so he brings it up with his superior.

Orphan questions it - nearly giving the whole team heart-attacks in the process - but a simple “I used to work in construction” seems to be enough to satisfy her curiosity.

A two hour sweep with some metal detectors finds nothing.

Then Orphan reappears from the shadows, providing another jumpscare, before pressing a hand silently to the side of her head.

The crew watches in silence as well, giving their pulses a chance to slow.

A ten-count later Orphan’s hand drops, and she strides confidently to the rear-left corner of the mansion and points at the ground.

“200 feet beneath the foundation,” she says before disappearing back into the shadows.

The crew shares a look and gets to work.

The time it takes to dig up the cube is just more time spent in a cell for Vlad, where he waits patiently, assured he’ll be released soon enough.

The lab itself would be only a minor problem - there would be fines and inspections and a heavy watch until everything was brought up to code. Questions about how he accessed it would be a larger problem.

But worst of all, in the comfort of his lab? He’s not much for hiding away incriminating documents. 

Of which there are many, given his propensity for keeping extensive records of his experiments, which include unethical cloning and what sums up to human experimentation. 

Once they find the actual facilities for the experiments in his Wisconsin home? It will all be over for him.

Being a ghost he could, of course, simply flee the cell and start anew somewhere else, with a new identity or even in a new dimension altogether - so long as he could nab Maddie and her children to bring with him.

But within his labs, he also keeps extensive records of himself.

A copy of the Plasmius Maximus.

Other ghost- and halfa-capturing restraints.

When he hears steps approaching his cell 2 days into his stay when it is clearly not a mealtime, he thinks “finally” assured that he is about to be released.

He only registers that it is Batman after he’s been hit by the Plasmius Maximus - cut off from his powers for at least the next two hours.

He has no chance to complain, as he is subsequently tranqued unconscious to be taken to a more secure location.

***

It’s an hour and half after school let out when the cops - who had taken to trying to distract Jazz and Danny with cards games and work stories while they waited - step away to answer their radios. 

When they return, they tell them that it’s “time to go.”

The siblings share a look, then shrug.

It wouldn’t be the first time the cops had to drive them home - rare though it was, there were at least 4 such occasions in their memories. It wasn’t a big deal.

They were less than enthused when the cops explained that they’d be heading to take them to the station instead of to home. Still, they chalked it up to the whole “questions about the Red Hood” thing and moved on. 

At least it meant they could dodge a home visit like Danny had wanted.

Except when they get there, they are taken to a cushy room and introduced to their social worker, a woman with a kind smile and a soothing voice who introduces herself as Bethany Scott, sits them down and explains, very gently, that their parents are currently under investigation.

To her credit, she isn’t condescending. She doesn’t try to hide away the truth; when they ask why, she tells them.

It’s a surprisingly long list of charges. Of everything on it, the violation of the meta protection acts comes as the biggest surprise.

Their parents were obsessive about ghosts, but they were also good at it. They never attack anything that doesn’t have ectoplasm.

Well, barring a few misfires.

Another surprise comes then: the Anti-Ecto Acts don’t exist. Ghosts are covered by the MPA by design, the AEA would never have gotten off of the ground in any legal capacity. It is solely a creation of the GIW, an extreme “‘real’ humans only” supremacist group that had worked at every level to pull the wool over the eyes of the small town’s citizenry so thoroughly that they’d been thought a real government agency - the imitation of which would be just one of the many charges that every member they managed to capture would be facing.

Then Mrs Scott starts talking about placement options.

Their Aunt, they are told, is not an option. 

It comes as a surprise to Danny. On quiet nights, when no ghosts showed up to interrupt him and Sam and Tucker weren’t up to distract him with a game of Doomed, his mind would sometimes wander back to that darkest of timelines.

He’d wondered how Vlad had ended up with custody. Being his godfather made him an option, but Danny would’ve wanted to go with Alicia. Will be damned, Danny would’ve plead on both knees with the judge to go with his aunt. Grieving or not, he’d have wanted as much distance between him and Vlad as possible,

He’d assumed Vlad must have done something to her or paid off the judge to rule in his favor.

To find out it was because she simply wouldn’t take him?

A part of him understands. He doesn't - Aunt Alicia is a kind person, yes, but not particularly loving or caring. When his parents brought up the subject of children with her on one of their rare visits, she described herself as having “less motherly instinct than a starving axolotl.”

Not an encouraging description after he read a book on axolotls for context. 

With their options being “Aunt in a small wood cabin in the middle of nowhere with the emotional sensitivity of a bull in a china shop” and “Rich friend of the family who would enable them to stay in contact with their friends and could hire them therapists even if he’s personally useless for helping them through the grieving process” she probably also figured marking herself down as a solid non-option would just expedite them getting the help they need (because she does care, even if she herself can’t - won’t - be there for them in that way).

He doesn’t hate her, but the knowledge burns. To know that there really was no avoiding Vlad - in that horrible future and in the now - makes him sick to his stomach.

Except-

Except before he can spiral, Mrs Scott tells them that Vlad is also not an option. Because he’s also under investigation.

A hysterical giggle bursts past his lips before he can think to stop it.

“Why?” he asks, ignoring Jazz’ disapproving grimace.

It’s less funny when they’re told that he’s under investigation under suspicion of mostly the same violations as their parents - including MPA violation, given the whole “million dollar ghost” incident and related propaganda. As the mayor especially, he should’ve known the AEA weren’t real and that the GIW were frauds and it was his responsibility to do something about them.

Depending on how he’d interacted with the group, he might be looking at aiding and abetting treason - or just outright treason - charges.

“If Aunt Alicia and Vlad both aren’t able to take us, then where are we going to go?” Jazz asks, shoving her emotions aside to deal with the matter at hand.

“Ordinarily, we would call up a few local fosters and see if one could take you in for a few days while we look into more long-term options. Worst case scenario you would have to spend a night or two in a hotel suite connected to mine while I found someone,” she answers. “But the two of you are in luck; Batman is the one who brought the case to our attention - apparently some erratic behavior from Red Hood brought them here, don’t ask, I don’t have all the details - and offered to run your parents’ DNA to check for other relatives that could take you. There was a match.”

The siblings share another look.

Both grandparents on their mother’s side had been only children and both were dead. Aunt Alicia had already said no and had no children of her own. Their father had been disowned by his family, and even if their other Aunts and Uncles would have been willing to take them in it didn’t matter, because all 5 had died in various accidents on their “hunts.”

“Apparently your uncle, Jerry Fenton, had a fling before he passed with one Ms Sheila Haywood. Their son, Jason, was thought to be the son of Willis Todd and Mrs Haywood until the DNA test today. He was raised by Willis and Mrs Catherine Todd until his subsequent adoption by Mr Bruce Wayne, and is currently living in Gotham.”

And it sounds wrong - the only thing most Fentons could love was mystery and danger - thus why only one out of six had survived. But they don’t know enough to dispute it.

Also. The involvement of another billionaire is setting off alarm bells. On the one hand: this could be a fruitloop paying someone off in order to forcibly adopt them. On the other hand, maybe Jason Todd really was a Fenton and being adopted by fruitloops was some kind of curse on the current generation.

“We contacted Mr. Todd the moment the connection was made. He has expressed an interest in taking you in, and flew out immediately to come and meet you. He arrived not five minutes ago.”

She paused and gave them a sympathetic look. 

“I understand that this is all a lot to take in. Please know that placing you with Mr. Todd is not the end of my duties; even after he takes you, I will be following you to Gotham. I’ll be looking into counselors for the both of you, and we’ll have a follow up on that topic in a maximum of a week’s time. I’ll also be doing regular home checks to ensure you’re both settling in well and that you’re being taken good care of. 

Even with what little I’ve gleaned, it is obvious that the environment you both grew up in until now was neither a safe nor a healthy one. It is my job to ensure that doesn’t happen again. If you have any concerns about your placement home now or in the future, please do not hesitate to bring them up with me. If you worry something is not “important” enough to mention, rest assured that if it bothers you in the slightest, then it’s important to me.”

She gives them each a long look.

Then she brings in Jason.

[daddy-dotcom]

Bang My Line

Summary: You're Penelope Garcia's first intern, and you learn a lot more from her than just her technical skills.

Rating: M

Words:4, 357

Warnings: Fluff, typical canon violence mentions, smut ;)

*reblogs or comments r much appreciated*

Read my newest fic Scents and Sensibility out now 🤭

_____________________________________________

The first day was a blur. It was scary enough to completely change career paths, but working for the FBI was an entirely different beast. Between what seemed like hundreds of background checks and interviews, I finally made it to my first day. Granted, I would just be an intern for now, but hopefully this would lead to a permanent position as a technical analyst. I waited in the lobby for Penelope Garcia, the woman who would be my mentor for the duration of my time with the BAU. We had spoken over the phone and even texted back and forth a bit, but this would be my first time meeting in person.

“There she is! My shiny new intern.”

“Hi you must be Agent Garcia,” I replied with my arm outstretched. She took it and gave what was the most enthusiastic hand shake I’ve ever seen.

“Oh honey, I’m way too fun for you to call me agent. Call me Penelope.” I shook my head in agreement and she led me towards the elevator.

“I know I gave you a rundown of the team via our text messages, but be prepared for them to ask you a million questions. You’re my first ever intern and they’re dying to meet the newest member of the team.”

“Duly noted, just know I’m going to be doing the same to you Penn because I’m a little out of my element here.”

“hmm Penn, I like the sound of that.”

As the elevator doors opened, I could see the rest of the team gathered around a desk, too focused on their own conversation to notice me and Penelope.

“Everyone, please welcome my first and only intern (Y/N).”

The man in the crisp black suit stood up first to greet me and introduced himself as Agent Aaron Hotchner.

“Penelope has not shut up about her new intern so it’s nice to finally put a pretty face to the name. I’m SSA Derek Morgan.”

I let out a bashful chuckle as I shook Morgan’s hand. Penelope did warn me that he could be a bit of a flirt. I was then greeted by a blonde woman who goes by JJ and an older man named Agent Rossi.

“Don’t tell me you write in pink sparkly gel pen too?” he jokingly asked.

I smiled and shook my head no, before being greeted by Agent Emily Prentiss.

“Don’t mind Rossi, it’s always nice to have another woman on the team to keep these boys in check.”

She gestured towards Morgan and the other agent beside her, who I can only assume is none other than Dr. Spencer Reid.

Penelope had described him as quote “Steven Hawking trapped in a young Bill Nye’s body.” What I didn’t expect was for him to actually be attractive. Sure, Agent Morgan and even Agent Hotchner were easy on the eyes, but Spencer Reid was strikingly handsome in the most unassuming way. The soft golden waves that covered the top of his head combined with those puppy dog eyes were enough to remind me how nervous I was to be joining the team.

“Nice to meet you (Y/N)” he said as he took my hand. My palms were beginning to sweat, but the steadiness of his firm grasp eased my nerves.

“Likewise,” was all I could manage to say. He held my gaze for what felt like both a moment and an eternity, before releasing my hand.

“Well, (Y/N), let’s get you briefed on your first case,” said Penelope.

I followed Penelope into the briefing room and decided to sit in the seat closest to the screen so that I could take notes on her presentation. To my surprise, Spencer took the seat next to me. As if I wasn't already a nervous wreck, his close proximity to me was going to make my writing even more illegible than usual. Still, I could get used to sitting next to the most handsome member of the team.

As Penelope wrapped up her presentation and the rest of the team departed on the jet, the bubbly blonde gave me a little tour of her office. Rossi wasn't joking about Penelope's love of glitter gel pens, and her desk was adorned with unicorn paperweights and mermaid statues.

"This is your workspace over here, (Y/N), although you'll mostly be assisting me for the first couple of weeks. Feel free to decorate your desk with as many unicorns as you please," she said.

The first hour or so of work was mostly getting situated in my new workspace, but we soon got our first call from the team, and it was from the man himself, Derek Morgan. Penelope pressed the button to answer the phone and his voice immediately came through the speaker for both of us to hear.

"It's your babygirl and her babygirl in training, what do ya need hot stuff?" said Penelope.

"Hey mama, I need you to look into Walter Price's bank activity for the last few months, see if there were any suspicious withdrawals or transfers."

"Anything for you gorgeous"

"Thanks babygirl, I'll be expecting your call back soon."

I sat with my mouth slightly ajar, looking over at Penelope dumbfounded.

"Do you talk to everyone on the phone that way?" you asked.

"Nope, just my sweet lover Derek Morgan."

I paused for a second before asking my follow up question, "so are you two like...in a relationship?"

"Only in my dreams," Penelope said with a wink. I let out a laugh because this whole situation surprisingly made me more at ease in my new job.

"As your intern, I guess it's my job to learn how to answer the phone like you?" I said with a wicked smile.

"Oh no my dear, at least, not yet. We've got a long way to go before you get to my level. And of course you'll have to find your own gorgeous man to talk dirty to, Morgan is already taken."

That definitely wouldn't be a problem, I already had the most gorgeous man on the team in mind.

I spent the next few weeks listening in on Penelope's phone calls and looking up information for her. I even got to help her present a new case to the team. After my first week, the team took me out to celebrate surviving my first case with the BAU. Even though I had become more comfortable around everyone on the team, I couldn't shake the butterflies Reid gave me whenever we interacted. However, I did notice that I was much more confident over the phone than in person. I tried to conceal my blossoming crush on Spencer as best I could, but I couldn't help but be the slightest bit sweeter to him whenever he was the one who called us.

During my second month of internship, we had a particularly hard time tracking down an unsub. Penelope was getting way too many names and she called Spencer to help her narrow down the list.

"There were traces of chlorine and calcium hypochlorite on the body which are chemicals commonly used in pool maintenance, Garcia narrow it down to men over 40 in the area who own pools or work in pool maintenance," he said.

"One name! It's Michael Dunlop, he works as a freelance pool maintenance man and, ooh get this, he hasn't responded to any jobs since the first murder on June 11th."

"Sending the address to your phones right now!" I interjected.

"Thanks (Y/N),"

"Anything for you, cutie" I said, with a sudden burst of confidence.

As I hung up with a satisfied look on my face, Penelope glanced over at me looking smug as ever.

"Cutie huh? That's a new one," Penelope said, "I knew I'd rub off on you sooner or later." And she was right. I started incorporating more color into my work wardrobe and I even brought my tiny stuffed cow to sit at my desk.

"You said I had to find my own gorgeous man to flirt with on the phone...so I did."

"I knew it! You have a crush on our genius boy-wonder!" She was positively giddy just by the thought of it. "I mean he's always sitting next to you and looking over at you when he thinks no one is noticing. You would think in a room full of profilers that I wouldn't be the only one to notice, and yet here we are."

It never occurred to me that my little crush might actually be reciprocated. Spencer was always a bit socially awkward, so I just assumed that he was the same way with me. I never once thought that he was actually as nervous to talk to me as I was to him. This fact somehow boosted my confidence even more, and I decided to have some fun with Spencer over the phone.

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

"Cutie huh?" Morgan asked the blushing boy. Spencer was used to Penelope teasing him, but this was different. He had been harboring a small crush on their newest intern for the past month, and when she flirted with him over speakerphone for Morgan, of all people, to hear, Spencer couldn't help but turn as red as a tomato.

Of course, being a profiler, Morgan took notice of Reid's crimson cheeks. "Call me crazy but I think she likes you, pretty boy."

"O-of course not, she's just copying the way Garcia talks to you," Spencer stuttered.

"That may be true, the only difference is that you have a little crush yourself."

Spencer didn't bother trying to lie since he knew Morgan would see right through him, so he just mumbled something about Prentiss and Hotch needing them at the location (Y/N) sent.

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

It was a lot easier to flirt with Spencer when he wasn't physically in front of me. When we were in the office together, we'd shoot each other smiles from across the room or he'd bring me an extra coffee in the morning. But when he was out in the field and I was back at my desk at the BAU, it was a whole different game. I tried my hardest to make him blush over the phone any chance I got, and it seemed to be working. After Penelope found out about my little crush, she decided to play matchmaker and slip Spencer my work phone number to call me instead for information. For the first time, I heard my phone ring instead of Penelope's and I immediately answered.

“Give it to me good baby, what do you need from me?” I replied. I knew it was Spencer since he was the only one who had my number.

"Hey (Y/N)" he said, and I swear I could hear him smiling through the phone. I could tell he had become more comfortable with our one-sided phone flirting over the past month. "I need you to look up all of Dr. Gupta's patients at the psychiatric clinic for the past 3 months, see if any of them drive a black van."

"You got it, gorgeous. If you need anything you know you can always bang my line."

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“You have (Y/N)’s number?” JJ asked.

Spencer looked puzzled, “Yea.. don’t we all?”

“I think it’s just you pretty boy” Morgan quipped, as he chuckled and gave him a pat on the back.

Spencer had grown fond of (Y/N)'s phone flirtation, but he was too embarrassed to return the favor in front of his colleagues. He loved watching her walk around the office in her high heels, trying to keep up with Penelope's fast pace. He knew brief glances and morning coffees weren't going to cut it anymore, he had to do something before her internship was over. So he decided to call her on his way home from working the case.

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

The team had just finished a case and were on the plane headed back to Quantico. Penelope had plans so she left me to wrap things up in the office. Just as I was making my way towards the door, my phone began to ring. Confused, I picked up the phone and listened to see if it was a misdial.

"Hey babygirl."

I nearly choked when I realized who was speaking. My body involuntarily shivered and my heart quickened its pace. This "babygirl" hadn't come from Morgan, it was Spencer on the other line.

"Hi Spencer! What's up I thought you guys wrapped up the case?" I asked in a confused tone.

"We did, but I thought I'd call you without everyone else around." His voice sounded sultry and silky smooth, unlike his usual rapid rambling, and it made it so much harder for me to speak. "We should be landing in about twenty minutes, stay in your office and I'll meet you there."

"Okay, I'll be waiting here, handsome."

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

Those twenty minutes were the longest twenty minutes of my life. I knew Spencer had a crush on me as well, but what could he possibly want to meet with me for? Was he going to ask me to stop flirting with him on the phone? Was he going to ask me out? Was he trying to make out with me? God I secretly hoped it was the latter...

Just as I had been getting lost in my own thoughts, I heard the familiar voices of the rest of the team down the hall. I knew Spencer would be walking into my office any minute, so I nervously fixed my hair and applied the lipgloss Penelope gave me.

"Hey babygirl," said the tall man standing in the door frame.

"Hi Spencie," I said with a smile as I called him the nickname I lovingly gave him, which I'm sure he secretly hates. I couldn’t help but grin since the word “baby girl” still seemed so foreign coming from his mouth. I stood up to meet his gaze as he slowly made his way over to my desk.

"I know you've been teasing me these past couple weeks," he said as we closed the gap between our bodies. I would say our faces were inches from each other, but he was impossibly tall and my face didn't reach past his chest, "but now its my turn to tease you," he said as he brought his hands behind my ears and pressed his lips onto mine. He was gentle and tentative at first, but I passionately pressed my lips back against his to deepen the kiss. I ran my hands through his gorgeous locks and began to tug. We quickly became a breathless mess and I couldn't help the feeling building in the pit of my stomach. His hands traveled down to my waist and he gingerly pulled me closer. He was both hesitant and passionate, not quite sure if he should act on his instincts. He pulled back for just a second to speak:

"I know you only have a few weeks left with us, but would you like to get coffee sometime?" he asked with those same puppy dog eyes that made me fall for him in the first place.

"Oh Spencie, we're a bit past coffee don't you think?" I said with blushy cheeks. "Let's get dinner sometime, I'm free any night except Tuesday, I have Zumba class with Penelope."

"She really has influenced you a lot hasn't she?" he said, making a mental note of the pink scrunchie in my hair.

"In more ways than one hot stuff."

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

Over the next few weeks, I spent my days phone flirting with Spencer at work and my nights making out with him in my office or eating Chinese take-out in his apartment. No one on the team, not even Penelope, knew about our brewing workplace romance, and we intended to keep it that way until I was hired permanently. However, that didn't stop him from flirting back on our calls. I was on my last week of internship and I was now the only one who Spencer called when he needed information. Spencer and I had agreed to take it slow, but our most recent calls had me desperate to find out what else he was packing besides the gun strapped to his hip. Just then, a call interrupted my wandering thoughts and I immediately picked up knowing it was him.

“Dayton Ohio you're on the air" I answered in my sexiest voice possible.

"I'd like to make a request," Spencer replied.

"You can request anything you want, doctor" I could hear him chuckle behind the phone before telling me what he actually needed.

"I need you to look up a marketing firm by the name of Firsthand Media and see if they have any connections to the colleges of the first set of victims."

"I'm on it, sugar" I answered.

"Oh and one more favor, look up the words beautiful and brilliant and see what you can find."

"Look at that, it's me"

"You're the best (Y/N)"

I could feel Penelope's eyes on me before she turned around and said

"I've never been more proud."

The rest of the day was filled with calls from the other agents to Penelope, mostly Morgan, until that evening when I got one last call from Spencer. He asked me to see if there were any men who had been admitted to the hospital in the last 6 months for brain injuries, but no one came up.

"Couldn't find anything, looks like you're going to have to punish me Spencie," I replied.

"You'll just have to wait til I get back for that"

He hung up, and I couldn't believe what I just heard. Penelope and I were in shock that Spencer Reid could be so dirty. For once, I was the one blushing on the other end.

"(Y/N) I swear to god if you don't let that man make sweet love to you I am personally writing your letter of resignation"

"Penn! We just flirt is all, like you and Morgan, I could never actually be with him"

"So you two haven't been using my sacred office space to make-out between cases?" she asked with raised eyebrows. I stood there, with my mouth open and eyes wide, looking guilty as ever.

"You do know there's a camera in this office right?" I was mortified. Thank God we'd never done anything more than kiss in this office.

"You knew this whole time? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh Morgan knows, but everybody else is still in the dark because I didn't want to risk you not getting hired. And I hacked into the security computers and deleted the footage."

"Thank you so much Penn, and I promise I won't have anymore heated makeout sessions in this office, or anywhere in this building for that matter."

"Anything for my little protege. But in all seriousness, you should definitely ride boy-wonder off into the sunset and make it official once you're hired."

"Penelope!" I hit her in the arm, only half jokingly because I knew deep down that that's exactly what I should do.

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

As usual, I waited in my office for Spencer to meet me. But this time, I was determined to go back to his apartment and finish what we started over the phone.

"Hello beautiful" he said as he made his way over to me. He greeted me with a hungry kiss and it took every ounce of strength I had not to pin him down and ride him in this office.

"Spencer listen, we can't makeout in this office anymore. Garcia and Morgan know about us already and she had to delete the footage off of the security cameras."

"Morgan knows? That present he gave me actually makes a lot of sense now."

"Nevermind that," I said before moving closer to whisper in his ear, "what I need now is for you to punish me like you said you would."

I could feel his heart beating out of his chest, his eyes went wide but faintest hint of a smile appeared on his deliciously soft lips.

"well then what are we waiting for" he said as he grabbed my hand and practically pulled me out of the office.

We wasted no time getting back to his apartment. Reid was always such a cautious driver, but this time he was driving like his life depended on it. Once in the building, he wouldn't let go of my hand and we were practically sprinting towards his door. He fumbled with the key for a moment before the door sprang open and I pushed him inside with the force of my lips on his. His hands had become quite comfortable exploring my body, and tonight was no exception. I tugged on his tie without breaking the kiss and he let out a heavy sigh as I led him towards his bedroom. I pushed him once again, this time down onto the bed, and I practically jumped on top of him to straddle his waist. As I let my weight rest on the growing bulge in his pants, he let out the sexiest groan and I could feel the wetness pooling in my panties. I continued to grind on him as we completely devoured each other. This wasn't the first time we'd done this, but this time it was different, we both wanted more.

"Spence please," I whined, "I need you."

"You can have me baby," he replied, looking up at me with those puppy dog eyes that I adore so much.

We quickly undressed and I raced to climb back on top of him.

"You really are beautiful," he said while tucking a loose strand of hair back behind my ear. I smiled back at him and gently kissed his lips before going back to grinding over his now bare cock.

His groans were like music to my ears and I couldn't help but sighing at the feeling of him gliding across my exposed cunt.

"Baby please, I want to be inside you," he pleaded.

"Do you have a, uh, condom?" I asked, somewhat sheepishly.

"I do...that was actually the 'gift' that Morgan got me," he said followed by a nervous chuckle. He reached into the drawer on the bedside table and, slightly trembling, opened the package.

"I-I just want you to know that I haven't done this in a while, (Y/N)," he began, "I don't know if I'll be any good." He was just as nervous as I was. I gave him a sympathetic nod before replying.

"It's okay Spence, it's been a while for me too. I guess you could say we get pretty caught up in our work."

"Agreed," he said, slightly more at ease.

As soon as he finished up rolling on the condom, I wasted no time lining him up with my entrance and sinking onto his length.

"Fuck, baby" he moaned with his eyes screwed shut "you feel so good." It was insanely hot to hear such foul language come out of Spencer Reid's mouth.

"You want me to ride you baby?" I asked teasingly.

"Yes please..."

I began to bounce rapidly on his dick, feeling every inch of him come in and out of me. I had a feeling he wasn't going to last long, but I didn't care, I was beyond happy to just watch the pleasure that I was bringing him. I took his hands and placed them on my breasts, which caused a simultaneous moan to come from the both of us.

"God (Y/N) you're going to make me cum" he said, nearly out of breath.

I knew he was close, but I was slowing down as my legs began to give out on me. He sensed the slowing of my pace, so he took one hand from my breast, wrapped it around my waist, and began to pump into me from below.

“Consider this your punishment babygirl”

This new angle was heaven to me and I couldn't help but cry out. He was fucking me so hard I swear I could see stars.

"Oh god Spence," I moaned. For someone who has been out of the game for a while, he was making me feel so good.

"I'm gonna...I'm..." he muttered.

"Let it out Spence, cum for me baby."

And with that, he spilled his load inside the condom. He just kept coming and coming inside of me until there was nothing left. Spencer Reid was utterly and completely spent.

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

“Well Dr. Reid, you sure know how to please a woman,” you said poking him in the rib.

“What can I say, I’m an overachiever,” he replied with a cocky smile plastered on his face.

As I was about to go in for a kiss on his cheek, my cellphone rang, and it was a call from Penelope.

“Hello my pretty! Sorry in advance that I’m probably interrupting your sexy times with boy-wonder but I just couldn’t wait to tell you. You got the job!”

“Oh my goodness! That’s great news, thanks Penn! What department am I in?”

“You’re going to be working in the international intelligence department, aaaaand that means you’ll probably have to report your little romance directly to human resources.”

“Sounds good Garcia, we’ll take care of that first thing in the morning,” Reid interjected.

“Ah, so boy-wonder is there with you! Looks like you took my advice after all (Y/N),” Penelope replied.

I rolled my eyes and said “Goodnight Penelopeeee” in a sing-songy voice.

“Goodnight you two, be safe and don’t stay up tooooo late.”

“Aww, what ever happened to the fun Penelope Garcia?”

“She’s not here right now but leave a message, bye!” And with that our conversation was over.

“Guess it’s time to tell the rest of the team about us”

“I guess so Spence, good luck handling all the teasing on your own baby,” I said with a giggle and planted a kiss on his cheek before drifting off to sleep. Tomorrow was surely going to be an interesting day at the office.

__________________________________

AN: Thanks for all the love, shameless plug for my newest oneshot The Visit

Taglist: @alondralolll@irehluvr@abbeyskeff@kaldurahms-lover@mischiefmanaged21@cheerful-clarinet@julesasf69@its-like-twilight@spearbsm@xxrookexx@oliveoilthoughts@twilightlover2007@comboboo@breadrobin@sunflowers-420@the-holy-trinity-l@frickyea-guacamole19@ayatos-wife@ghostheartbeat@famfan-1034@ivyproblems@lavenderrway@rogerismyqueen@talkintrashcann@chatxconverse@phoenix1388@dumbredpotato@ourprisma@autisticallyreid@curvingdoll@strwbymoon@tomorrowxforever@alexabsinthe@myliteralhyperfixations19@cloudy-em@prentisszlover@cami-is-reading@ichundjulia@rubywritesblog@blameitonthenight21@xsophx27-blog@mariezanny@gubes-sweaters@ohmoaohbaby@lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests@secludedstarlight@clockgirl94@theonewhereifangirl@nervousmoongiver@tearsofsound@suburban-forest@unkn0wnnerd@creativeuser101@bigassnocash@chasedbyunclewalt@abbyandersonssecretgfsecretgf@iheartlilia@cryingabta@justsomeimbicel@ssaspencerreidswife@likeawinebottle@imanewsoul@singinghamtaro-blog@lovingperfectionsblog@deafeningmiraclecherryblossom@secretlovezz@inlovewithemilyprentiss@jenthebin@walmartclearance89@theseverefangirl@tulips-ean@gummybear123@myravenchaser@tpickett@librarymousesqueak@pocketful-of-sunflowers@climbingivy97@ghost-wonder@sparrow-winchester@thbckgrnd@mswgtsd@kirmaaa@taliegator@jinecie@unlikelypaintertreeknight@notagirlfangirl@sarahsmiles-user@luvehotch@cosmoscoffeee@ara-a-bird@lesbiansayaishii@itsmeelena@just-a-lil-xtra@willowtree42095@the-way-of-the-hall@theedwardscissorhandslover@thosewhocantdo-teach@slay-and-gay@luvurmind@witchyval@fandom-alley@wifeyreid@samandhislostshoe@whoamiomakeachange@xcastawayherosx@danis-stuff-is-here@love4lando

[starkeyisthelastname]

you got me obsessed with trailer park rafe now ugh i can imagine any time he gets into it with her dad over rent he’d take it out on her later by having her pinned to his dingy couch with a hand on her neck and her tits spilling out of her little dress from his brutal thrusts 😩

thank you angel! im obsessed with him too 😩💦

Your father had added on a late fee to Rafe’s rent, meaning he had to come up with an extra $50, when he just spent the last of his money on a case of beer and a pack of cigarettes. He was pissed to say the least, certainly not in any mood for company. Which is why when he heard a few delicate knocks to the torn screen door, he snorted as he saw your sugary self standing there. You really were a man’s dream, so beautiful and too damn innocent for this world. Not knowing the struggles a man like him had to deal with. He grumbled, his massive frame striding over to the door as clearly you weren’t leaving.

It creaked open, his blue eyes peering down at you with a stoic expression and cigarette hanging out of his mouth. You didn’t know your favorite person was in a bad mood due to your father’s actions. In fact he had just given you some money to go to the town’s carnival tomorrow and to take one of your little friends. He just didn’t know you were going to ask the older man that he had thrown a late fee on for being past due on rent.

“Get outta here, kay babydoll. Not in a good mood.” Rafe’s voice mean, despite using your favorite pet name he called you.

Your glossy lips frowned, playing with the hem of your little summer dress, unknowingly letting your bouncy tits sway as you rocked back and forth. “B-but, my daddy gave me some money to go to the carnival tomorrow and i.. wanted you to go with me.” You said, long lashes fluttering at him.

The blue eyes that had been staring at your tits, went back to your face as you said your daddy gave you money. The same daddy he had cussed out for being a cheap bastard earlier in the day for charging a late fee all of a sudden. He took a long drag of his cigarette, his height imposing and darkened irises nearly staring into your soul. “Why you tell me that for, sugar?” He finally spoke, blowing the smoke towards you. “Cause you know your old man pissed me off.” He laughed, tapping the side of your forehead, to get your dumb little brain to understand what was about to happen.

He’d have you pinned on the torn and tattered couch, his massive palm wrapped around your throat. He could easily snap your neck if he wanted to, but enjoyed the sounds of your pretty cries too much as he brutally pounded into you. “Told you I’m a bad man, little slut. Don’t you ever come round’ here and tell me that shit again.” He spat, voice gruff and breathless as he rammed you.

You squeaked, soft hands coming out to grab anything as he fucked you into the couch. Your poor little self should have been scared, but you still put all your trust in him and were too far attached to him to ever think he was a bad mean man. You thought you were doing something nice, inviting him to the carnival but now you just wanted to show him that you could be good. Oh you were so far gone, letting him use you exactly like he said he was. Like his little fuckdoll.

“Shhh, babydoll. I know..” Rafe murmured, watching your eyes start to roll back and gorgeous tits bounce as he laid into you. “Gettin’ your cunt ruined by a big cock, huh?” He laughed, assumed that you to him so well. His hand that was around your neck, came up to roughly cup your jaw, making your eyes snap open. You could feel that funny feeling come over you, this time a new pressure hitting.

“You should have just stayed away. But you just couldn’t help your lil’ self could ya? Now your fuckin sweet baby self is stuck with me.” He breathed out, watching your pretty face come undone as you began squirting and soaking the torn couch underneath you.

[nanamis-bigtie]

party circle

↬ choso, geto, gojo & ino x afab!reader | lucid love ↬ lucid love masterlist // jjk masterlist // ao3 version

cw: smut, reader has a vagina (more detailed description of genitalia), college au, drunk sex, cumdumpster (reader on receiving end), group sex, piv sex, blow job, rough sex, reader is called "doll" and "thing", sprinkle of degradation and dumbification summary: you've been dared to offer yourself as a cumdumpster during a party - and you're not a wimp. you haven't expected what kind of team is going to pay you a visit word count: 2.6k a/n: yes, i am aware this text is squeezed, i have run myself against my own word limit and i still crossed it ahem tag list: @thesacredfanfics

After an hour in almost complete darkness, doing nothing but staring at the ceiling, you start to wonder if this all wasn't just a mean, drunk prank. Or another stupid test of courage, company's favorite. The party downstairs is flickering out, the voices and steps are fading, and none are heading towards you, lying half-naked in the host's guest bedroom and slowly going cold. Your heart is still fluttering like crazy and you're perking your ears for any sound nearby, but the level of your excitement is inexorably heading towards disappointment. All the commotion for nothing.

If not for your pride—and gut feeling telling you someone is secretly watching the door in case you chicken out—you would have already pulled your bottoms back up and returned to the living room. A bet is a bet, it still counts as won if someone else wimps out.

But eventually someone does come. More than one person even, you soon realize when the voices become more distinct, and you can pick some words. A few men are climbing the stairs, bantering on their way and laughing, one of them rather reluctant, you assume by the constant harsh chatter and steps heading downstairs from time to time. You can't follow the conversation but after a few tugs back and forth, you learn there are four of them, and at least one of the voices is... too familiar. Your heart, racing a moment ago, sinks; if it's someone from your class or the club, you're done for. You thought you're a solo player here, you got into the party with the invitation of a friend from outside of your college circle, and all the faces you passed by tonight were all new to you. But with so many guests gathered in a spacious house, the probability of running into someone you knew wasn't that close to zero.

When the men finally make it to the floor and stop in front of the door, you almost stop breathing. Are they looking for a free bathroom—or are they here for you? The uncertainty tears you apart the stronger, the more conflicted your thoughts grow. You don't want to find out the hard way if someone you know is in this group. But...you don't really want them to be gone, either. If you already mustered courage and offered yourself as a free-to-use party dumpster, drunk brain or not, not making that one crucial step would haunt you like a ghost. Were you surrounded by cowards? Or assholes who couldn't appreciate your body? No, with the number of advances made on you tonight, you can't really deem yourself unappreciated.

The shade of unanswered questions would remain, though. But luckily for you, the problem quickly solves itself.

"C'mon, man, don't be such a wimp." This voice is not the familiar one but comes from so close that you could swear the man is standing right by the bed. "It's likely just a stupid joke anyway."

The answer is too dull for you to understand and soon it drowns in laughter. The door creaks open, just enough to let a narrow wisp of light sneak into the room. You narrow eyes, blinded after such a long time in darkness, but you can pick silhouettes of four men peeking inside over each other. All stare right at the exposed and illumined part of your body: your left leg and hip, your cunt, and a bit of your torso and face. Instinct yells at you to cover yourself, you spread your legs wider instead, with no word spoken and hoping your guests have enough sober brain cells to connect the dots.

"It's...not a joke." The man from the previous line stands right in the front and his voice falters a little. The other right behind his back, shamelessly resting chin on his shoulder, whistles with appreciation.

"Hey, Kamo, you're in luck today," he turns around and flicks the light on. "I think that's Y/N."

Kamo? Choso Kamo? Why HIM of all familiar people who possibly could wander into this party?

You're hanging on a string of hope that maybe, just maybe, there are more guys going by this family name, and the one here is not Choso, your club crush, but once your eyes get used to light and all four of them step inside, you understand how screwed you are even before they pull their dicks out.

It is Choso, the reluctant one, leaning against the door with arms crossed and looking everywhere but at your face, his own scarlet red to the tips of his ears. But what's even worse, you recognize the other three as well. 

Suguru Geto, probably the most wanted man at your college, skimming your figure curiously from his spot at the front. 

Leaning against him, Satoru Gojo, the star of the football team and his best friend, currently shamelessly staring right at your cunt. 

More reserved than those two but as interested Takuma Ino, your friend's ex fuck buddy and a notorious party animal.

"It's been a while, huh?" He's the one who tries to initiate conversation, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to another. "This is not some crazy prank, right?"

"A bet, I heard." You understand now why Satoru has always been described as equally weird and handsome; the way his gaze is drilling into you sends shivers down your spine. And you can't decide if you hate it...or quite contrary.

With Choso staying behind, the men surround the bed, and you can't shake off the impression that they're cornering you like prey. Neither of them pounces on you though, the awkward tension almost unbearable—but at the same time clearly exciting for everyone involved. With initial shock fading away, replaced by the same excitement that prompted you to boldly announce in which room you're waiting for anyone as brave as you, you're slowly getting back into the groove. Racing heart pumps hot blood into the right veins, simmering lust perks its head up, your muscles relax and allow you to spread your legs as far as you can. Invitingly, you hope, and from the surrounding faces you can read you're understood well.

"Alright, doll, we gotta turn you around, or our virgin won't budge from his place." Satoru shamelessly pulls you to the edge of bed, then flips you face down. Another pair of hands helps you lift your hips until you find a comfortable and stable position.

"Shit, look at that..." Wooden floor creaks as one of them kneels down, his breath so hot against your exposed slit. He traces it with a thumb, gently, but enough to make your breathing heavier. "All wet and ready."

Someone else's big and warm hands knead your ass and spread your cheeks open. Curious thumb grazes your clit, long fingers slide inside you, two at once, and reach so deep your eyes roll into the back of your head. Long wait has worked up your appetite, your heat has built itself up steady and exploded as soon as your cunt has been touched. They soon grow bolder too, encouraged by your dripping slick and noises you make. The banter and dirty praises melt into white noise behind your back, mixed with the clicks of unbuckled belts and pants shoved down to the ankles. 

Someone's impatient cock slots itself against your rim, steals a shallow, wet thrust, followed by laughter from the other two. The eager one is pulled away, hungry hands leave your cunt empty and pulsing, not without a disappointed whine of yours. You wiggle your hips, the craving of being filled stronger than the prior awkwardness and your pride.

"Virgins come first." It's Takuma's voice that breaks through the white noise. 

A few steps creak back, there's a short tussle and the fourth man is forced to come closer. In the last moment of clear-headedness, your heart skips a beat; you fight against the instinct to look back at Choso. You've been turned around for a reason, despite temptation you want to respect it. You can't control the excited spasm of your cunt, though, much to men's loud enthusiasm.

"C'mon, don't make Y/N wait."

There's hesitation in Choso's touch. He reaches for you with both hands, just tracing your ass and hips at first, before he gives your curve the first, testing squeeze. You hear him groan, sound barely audible yet standing out with its characteristic timbre. You would recognize this knee-melting voice everywhere—and in this situation you react to it hundreds times stronger. You shove your hips back, bumping against his crotch, feeling the outline of his erection through his pants.

He groans again, nails sinking into your skin almost painfully.

Someone helps him with his pants when he's holding on to you for his dear life. He lets go of you with one hand, just enough to line himself up and guide his awkward thrusts towards your entrance. Clumsiness and need behind his moves drive you crazy; he's really losing his v-card with you, just like that, watched by his friends, drunk, with a party toy you've become. And as much as you want to make it easier for him, as soon as his throbbing length slots itself in you, finally easing the itching craving, you squeeze him tight and push your hips against him. 

You want everything he can offer, the sooner, the better.

"Fuck..." Choso mutters through clenched teeth, his pulse running crazy as you clench again, stronger. He won't last long, you can tell as much despite the fever overpowering every single one of your senses. Fuck, indeed. The thought of milking him dry so early adds fuel to burning fire; you take over the situation and grind against him, forcing him to follow suit with his awkward, desperate thrusts, until he suddenly stills and fills you up, with the most pathetic, beautiful moan you've heard from a man.

He starts leaning over your back, his hot breath nearly brushing against your skin, but he's pulled away as fast as he's been dragged to mount you. A different hand kneads your ass; it's Takuma, you guess from the breathy whimper he lets out when he's sliding the head of his cock between your wet folds. He doesn't lose his time either, soon filling your hungry cunt again and rutting inside, short but deep and strong thrusts.

"Squeezin' tight," he growls, shifting the weight and balance of your bodies forward. He places one hand on your back and pushes you down, forcing you to arch your hips and take him even deeper.

You risk a glance over your shoulder. Vision hazy and set under a weird angle, you can't see much but Takuma's face, flushed and beaming with pleasure, and Satoru peeking curiously at your entrance, working hard to swallow every single one of the thrust. He's stroking himself, the tip of his tongue peeking through his lips, so engrossed by the show he's almost bearing down on Takuma's back. Neither of them seem to notice, only one goal on their minds.

You're almost brought to your high this time but Takuma is there first, his last thrust almost tripping you over with the unexpected power. You end up pushed into the mattress, the sights mercilessly yanked away from you, and the next man in line doesn't give you a chance to collect himself.

Satoru is much bigger than the other two. His size takes you by surprise; you mewl loud at the sudden stretch, then almost scream when he slots himself so deep that he's poking at your cervix. He doesn't show you mercy at all, both hands holding your hips in place as he's fucking the brain out of you like a jackhammer. It's brutal, it's almost painful, it's so fucking good you're moaning and crying at the same time. The stretch and friction are frying your nerves; you're yanked into orgasm with his thrusts alone, and he doesn't stop even for a second, instead forcing you to stay still, one foot resting at the edge of the bed. Against his strength, you're nothing but a puppet, a sex toy he's moving with no regards for your state.

But even he has limits and soon you're again filled to the brim. You're not able to hold it inside any longer, the mix of cum and your juices drips out of your used hole as your legs tremble, without the support soon to collapse. The last man comes to your aid, his hold is surprisingly tender but as strong as Satoru's. He takes his time, the privilege of the last in the queue, making sure you're stable and collected before he steals the first thrust, shallow, just enough to slide his tip against the mess.

You're trembling from just this little, so overstimulated you're seeing white even without orgasm.

"You poor thing," Suguru coos and traces free hand against your sweaty back. "He's ruined you so much, that monster."

Satoru scoffs, the mattress dips by your side as he throws himself right next to you. He holds your chin and forces you to look at him. The sadistic, almost maniac, look in his terrifying eyes has your cunt fluttering.

"Be careful, poor thing," he mimics Suguru and slides a thumb between your lips. "He's the real monster here."

In contrast, Suguru moves so gently it's...frustrating. He gathers the cum leaking out of you with the head of his cock before he slides it into you slow and deep, then stills until frustration takes over you and makes you find some power to press hips against him.

He clicks his tongue, laughter shadowing over his words, "Don't be like that. You need to savor your strength."

Suguru moves so slow, terrifying with his precision for the first time he's having you. He touches you more than just having you in place, he traces your sides, back, nape, pinches your nipples and meticulously wanders down again, between your shaking thighs. You almost choke on sharp inhale when he rubs your clit, your mewls held back by Satoru's thumb fucking your mouth, then by his big tongue sliding deep inside. Looking for breath, you try to shake him off—Suguru's hold, fingers knotted tight in your hair, forces you to stay still, until you're shaking and melting, and Satoru has to withdraw.

"Don't be too rough," Takuma is on your other side, sounding concerned but still stroking himself, as far as you're aware by the sounds.

"We're just playing." Suguru's voice is sweet like honey, soft and comforting—and you believe him, let him coax you into comfort before he shows his true colors again and yanks you up and straight by your hair. 

Eyes filled with tears, you try to support yourself on trembling arms and ease the tension in your scalp and neck. Merciless hand guides you to other side, right into Choso's cock poking at your lips. You catch a glimpse of his face, bright pink with a blush but his eyes are dark with lust, gaze fixed at your tongue instinctually lolled out of your mouth. Takuma nudges him closer, almost forces him to slip himself into you, the tip of his dick poking at the back of your throat and making you gag.

Satoru's hand replaces Suguru's; he uses your head to get Choso off as the other man speeds up his thrusts, using your cunt without any mercy now. He pulls almost completely out right before he cums, his seed leaking out of your used hole. Next in line Takuma doesn't bother to shove it back, his thrusts push more of it out, the whole mess dripping on the sheets.

I need to pay for cleaning, the last thought crosses your mind before it gives in to pleasure—no, to ecstasy, no more sanity, just waves of your high washing over you over and over again as their cocks fill your cunt and mouth in turns and you're nothing but a trembling mess.

[jotarohat]

Painting his nails was something Suguru went for especially if it was done by you. Although you guys weren’t a couple, it felt extremely intimate to paint his nails.

Blushing when he feels your hand holding his as you try to paint his nails neatly.

“Looks really good”, he murmured.

“Thanks,” you murmured back, tongue sticking out in focus.

You guys were sitting on the floor of his room, with Suguru leaning against the side of his bed. He always preferred black polish, not really having a reason why, just something he always felt a pull towards.

He used this opportunity to admire you while you were distracted painting his nails. He founded your furrowed face with tongue poking out slightly, cute.

You angled his hand where he can see it better.

“You like it?” you questioned.

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered out after being caught off guard out of his daydream.

Twisting the nail polish cap back into the bottle, you fanned his hands.

“Looks good,” you whistled and grinning to yourself.

“Thank you, how can I repay you back? ” he asked before giving you one of those smiles that had girls swooning before him.

“Ah, it’s really not a big deal.”

“I insist, after all I wanna get you something”

“You really don’t have to.”

You both bickered back and forth, while you were still fanning his hands, which was something suguru appreciated. Eventually you let him win, sighing to yourself, cracking a smile that he loved.

Standing up, you both stretched out both of y’all’s legs. He felt himself blushing assuming something else when he felt you grab his hands, before realizing that you were doing that to check to see if his nails were dry. Frowning to himself when he realizes it wasn’t the case.

“Let me buy you froyo,” he said before smiling at you, knowing froyos were your favorite.

You smiled at him, letting go of his hands. His smile faltered slightly. You glanced at his painted toenails, mentally patting yourself on the back for your work.

~

You both left the campus, walking to the nearest Froyo shop. You complimented his outfit, which had him stuttering slightly and blushing, blaming on the hot weather.

He was glad shoko and satoru didn’t come along or else they would’ve teased him endlessly for acting like a middle school girl with a crush, which wasn’t that far off.

You guys chose to sit on the bench in the park after getting the froyos to your liking.

“Say.. I would like to do your nails next time..” he said before coughing slightly and shyly looking away.

Admiring his side profile, seeing that his ears are slightly red, you giggled to yourself.

“Sure, why you don’t you paint my nails black? To match,” you wiggled your fingers.

“Alright then…” he muttered out, still not looking at you, feeling himself get redder at your words. Damn it.

You both continued eating froyos in comfortable silence. Glancing at him from your peripheral vision, you noticed a piece of sprinkle at the corner of his mouth.

“Sugu..” you called out.

He slowly turned his head to look at you, feeling his chest swell with warmth, hearing his nickname coming out of your mouth. You both held eye contact for a while. Anyone walking by could feel the romantic tension lingering.

You leaned in, holding a napkin tightly. He felt his breath hitch, assuming that you were going to kiss him. You swiped the napkin across the corner of his mouth. Smiling at his frowning face.

“Something wrong?” you teased.

“No, nothings wrong.” he said with sulking shoulders.

Glancing at his froyo, you nudged him for a taste of his froyo. He nodded, holding up a spoon of the mint froyo, which you questioned him earlier, he replied with a shrug.

You cheerily accepted it. He pulled the spoon out of your mouth. He ate the rest of his froyo before realizing that you both shared an indirect kiss. He blushed at the thought.

“Hey, we should get going before it’s dark. We wouldn’t want Mr. Yaga get on our asses right?” He chuckled at your words before getting up.

He seemed awfully quiet, you noticed. He was planning on how to kiss you before you go back to your dorm. He used a breath fresher spray while you weren’t looking.

~

While approaching your dorm door, you stopped and turned to the sight of suguru rubbing the back of his neck and hesitating to ask you something. You knew what his question was, you weren’t that oblivious.

“Is there something you want to ask me? Sugu?”

“O-oh yeah,”

You hummed, suggesting him to continue.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you smiled.

Staring at each others lip for a moment before moving closer. The kiss wasn’t something out of the movies for sure. But you were glad it was with suguru. You broke the awkward kiss, staring back at suguru.

He could stare at your eyes for hours. He believed in the fact that your eyes are the gate to your soul.

You placed your hand on the doorknob, and looking back at him.

“I enjoyed our date,” you said with a smile on your face.

“I did too,” he smiled back.

“See you tomorrow,” you said before twisting the doorknob.

Later that night, suguru laid on his bed looking up at the ceiling with his mind filled with the thoughts of you. He lifted his hand and saw the black polish, the one that you painted. He smiled to himself, touching his lip, the lip gloss you used lingered.

He could get used to this.

[cupcaketeddybehr]

when your credit card declines pt. 2

featuring: gojo, geto, and sukuna!!! sorry the storylines are all so drastically different LOL i made gojo's a meet cute 😅 also i've never written for sukuna before so i really hope you guys like it!

here's part 2 as promised! thank you so much to the lovely lovely @luvxoxo for the request!! ILYSM!!

for anyone who has a request/just wants to chat, my ask box is open!! (please please please please send me requests)

tags! <3 : @itawifeyy

Gojo

you sigh as you peer through the pastry display case at your favorite cafe. you came as soon as you got off work, but it doesn’t seem like you came early enough. with fifteen people in front of you, you’re sure that the three boxes of kikufuku, your favorite sweet treat, are going to disappear by the time it’s your turn. after dealing with annoying, entitled clients for the entire day, this brings your mood to a new all time low. unsure of what you’re going to end up ordering, you stay in the line, hoping that some kikufuku will be magically left by the tine you get to the front.

the man behind you doesn’t make waiting in the line any easier. either talking to himself or talking to someone who barely responds to him, he’s talking at a volume that’s making your ears ring. you have no choice but to listen as he excitedly gushes about the progress of his students at whatever school he teaches at. you assume that it’s the nearby jujutsu school you used to attend as a child. you feel the gusts of wind his exaggerated hand movements create on your neck. eventually, one of them end up accidentally smacking the side of your head. you turn around to yell at whoever's behind you when you make eye contact with the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. you take in his expressive blue eyes and perfectly styled white hair. you’re wondering how he looks this good after a long day of work.

you two stare at each other a bit until the black-haired man next to him, who you assume is his friend (weird because you haven’t heard him talk the whole time), smacks him and hisses, “satoru, apologize”

satoru blinks and says, “oops, sorry, i didn’t mean to hit you,” still not breaking eye contact.

all anger suddenly leaving your body, you shake your head, “it’s okay” you stare at him a little longer, both of you waiting for the other person to say something. when neither of you do, you turn back around, a bit disappointed. maybe you were being delusional.

you drag your feet as the line in front of you gets shorter. you hear people shoving each other behind you, and you hold back a giggle.

“shut up, suguru”

you hear the two shove each other back and forth, careful not to hit you or anyone else with their antics.

when you get to the front of the line, you look into the display case again to look at the leftover kikufuku. to your disappointment (but not your surprise), there are none. turning to the cashier, you ask, “do you have any more of that?” as you point to the empty platter labeled “kikufuku”

she shakes her head, “sorry, all we have left are kikufuku pre-orders”

you frown, continuing to look at the display case, hoping to find something worth buying.

“you can have some of mine” satoru says from behind you. he looks at the cashier and asks her to bring his pre-order out from the back.

“no, it’s really okay i-“ you stop mid-sentence as you see the cashier come out of the kitchen with more kikufuku boxes than you can count. you can’t even see the top of her head. you look at suguru, who has his hand over his eyes, embarrassed. “i take it back.”

satoru laughs, “you can have a box!”

“ONE BOX? YOU HAVE SEVENTY”

“BECAUSE I PREORDERED”

you huff, ‘i guess… thank you, satoru”

he beams at the sound of his name, nods, and goes to look at the other pastries, asking suguru if he wants anything. currently, his eyes are only on the sweets in the bakery.

you take a glance at him as the cashier asks you to swipe your card for the box of kikufuku. you fish for your card in your wallet and then tap it on the machine.

“sorry, could you swipe that again?” the cashier asks. you panic and wonder how much money you have left in your account.

satoru suddenly looks away from the pastries and looks at you, “why are you paying?”

you’re confused, “i’m buying the box? if you don’t want me to anymore its fi-“

he steps beside you, asks the cashier to add a few more other sweet treats, and tells her to add your tab to his. “do you want anything else?”

“why are you being so nice to me?”

“maybe i want to take you out on a date” he says. “also- i never got your name”

“yes! uh- i mean, i’d love to” you grin, “and my name’s y/n”

he smiles and dumps the seventy boxes of kikufuku and bag of pastries on his friend. “suguru, hold this.”

grumbling, suguru takes the boxes and bag as satoru pulls out his phone.

“can i have your number?”

you nod, taking his phone and typing in your number and name with a little heart next to it.

“wanna come with me to this kikufuku shop tomorrow? i haven’t tried it yet” he asks.

“didn’t you just buy seventy boxes?”

suguru peeks out from behind the boxes, “he’ll be done with these by tomorrow.”

Geto

you walk through kyoto’s don quijote superstore with your boyfriend, suguru, on the phone. wandering the aisles searching for cheap peripera and romand lip oils and glosses, you can’t help but notice how shiny suguru’s hair looks through the screen. you swear that it’s reflecting light, sheen glistening as he moves around the house.

“sugu?” you begin, “did you change your haircare routine?”

he rubs the back of his neck with his hand, “noooooooo”

you gasp, betrayed. “you changed it and you didn’t tell me? is that why your hair looks so much better than mine right now?”

he doesn’t even try to argue that your hair is on equal footing, “maybe” he says, as he looks anywhere but you.

you glare at him through your phone, “we literally share the same hair care products. what have you been using?”

“i have a secret stash that i take out when you’re not looking” he sheepishly admits. “satoru told me that your hair looked better than mine the other day.”

you sigh, knowing how suguru is when it comes to his hair. “really, sugu? you’re letting your hair come between us?” you pout, jokingly. his entire ego relies on the appearance of his long black locks.

he laughs, “sorry, angel, my hair and i have a special relationship”

you roll your eyes, knowing that he would buzz his hair off if it meant saving you from a life or death situation. but that was the condition. you had to be on your deathbed. “can you at least tell me what products you’re using?” you beg.

“i use ten different products.”

“WHAT. you must be joking.”

he walks up the stairs and pans his phone camera to the stash of haircare products he’s apparently been keeping under the bed. your eyes widen as you spot every single one of the ten products. among them are hairbrushes, hair oils, dry shampoos, combs, and hair ties (the fancy spiral ones that don’t leave dents).

“why do i feel like this is the equivalent of you cheating on me”

he laughs, “baby, you’re being dramatic.”

“suguru. remind me which one of us keeps a secret stash of hair care products under the bed because he’s too scared to be tied for best hair?”

he clicks his tongue, “fine… i’ll help you find the products. but not all ten”

“why can’t i just use yours?”

“they’re mine.” he says possessively. “but i promise to help you find some.”

you grumble as he gives you step by step directions to the shampoo and conditioner aisle. apparently, he knows the way to the hair care aisle by heart.

when you flip the camera over, he points to the viral &honey shampoo and conditioner. “get that, angel. it’s a really good brand”

you two spend about thirty minutes picking out hair oils and hair masks before you’ve just about had it. “suguuuuu this is too much work” you whine.

he laughs and starts walking towards your garage. “i’ll be there in ten, okay?”

he arrives exactly ten minutes later and you take on a mindless, drone-like state, letting your boyfriend do all the work for you. you watch him as he squints at the labels of all the hair care products, making sure that they either contain or don’t contain a bunch of ingredients you can’t pronounce.

when it’s time to check out, you’re walking hand in hand to the cashier when he starts massaging his temples, “shit, i forgot the new tsubaki hair mask i wanted. i’ll be right back, okay angel?”

“okay sugu! get me one too!”

after looking at the ten person line, you decide that you might as well queue to save time. apparently, people move faster than you thought, because you’re at the front of the line with everything on the conveyor belt. you feel like your parent just left you at the cashier.

panicking, you glance behind you at the long line of people. no way you’re getting back in that. you decide to just tell suguru to come back another day for the hair masks. you double check the total and swipe your pink credit card on the machine.

“i’m sorry, could you try that again?” the cashier asks. you look at the screen and pray that the bold “DECLINED” message is just an error. when you go to swipe again, your card is snatched out of your hand before it’s even halfway to the machine.

“sorry i took so long, angel. i had to fight people for the last two hair masks.” suguru explains. “also- didn’t i tell you to call me whenever you’re buying something? you shouldn’t have to spend your money on anything.”

you breathe a sigh of relief, “usually, i would offer to pay… but i think i’m broke”

suguru stifles his laugh, “remind me to transfer money to your account when we get home, baby.”

you giggle and kiss him, “you’re the best!”

a week later, your hair starts looking a little shinier than his and the cycle begins again.

Sukuna

after admiring sukuna’s tattoos for months, you’ve finally psyched yourself up enough to get one.

you hold his bicep still as you color around his black markings with sharpie while he’s quietly eating his extremely rare-cooked (was it even cooked? you have no idea) steak. “kuna? what tattoo do you think i should get?” you ask as you hand him your phone.

he scrolls through your “tattoo” pinterest board with a look of distate. “these wouldn’t suit you, brat”

you frown as you glance at the pins he’s looking at. you had been hoping to get a cute little studio ghibli linework tattoo on your arm. “why not? I think they’re really cute.”

“something else would look better. those look weak and pathetic.”

you start to get annoyed when he takes a sharpie from your pile and takes hold of your arm. “kuna… what are you doing?”

“drawing your tattoo, obviously” he grumbles. he seems to be annoyed at the fact that you consulted pinterest before him.

the pen strokes on your arm lull you to sleep as sukuna draws all over your forearm, elbow, and bicep.

thirty minutes later, he flicks your forehead to wake you up. “i’m done, brat”

you yawn groggily as you take in the masterpiece on your arm. it’s an entire sleeve of beautifully drawn flowers.

“kuna… this is beautiful.”

“i know” he says, “it suits you.”

you grin at him, “awww thank you, kuna”

he nods, “you can look up the meanings of the flowers later.”

MEANINGS? your boyfriend knows the meanings of flowers? you know that he gardens, but you didn’t know that he loved flowers this much. “i love you so much! you’re so cute!” you squeal while you throw your arms around his neck.

“ditto… and don’t call me cute.”

you tug on his hand and pull him to the car, “let’s go!”

before you know it, you’ve been laying down on the tattoo bench for almost two hours. the piece is huge, and you’re sure that you’re going to be here until they close. sukuna sits beside you, brushing his long nails through your hair and squeezing your free hand with his other hand every time you wince.

at some point, tears are falling down your face. sukuna yells at the tattoo artist to get out while he wipes the tears from your face and kisses your forehead repeatedly. “you can do it, just a little bit more. it’s going to look so pretty on you”

you nod, squeezing his pointer and middle fingers with your hand.

when the tattoo artist walks back in, sukuna shoots him a glare before returning to his original position. an hour later, he’s stroked your hair so much that you’ve fallen asleep.

when the tattoo artist pokes your shoulder to wake you up, you take a moment to admire the beautiful spread of flowers on your arm. as you turn to tell your boyfriend, you realize that he’s fast asleep on the chair. now that you’re looking at him, you have no idea how he fit into that chair to begin with.

you quietly make your way to the counter to pay, trying not to wake sukuna. when you pull your credit card out of your wallet, it somehow suddenly goes flying right into sukuna’s hand.

he walks towards you , running a hand through his hair. “WOMAN. how many times have i told you that you’re not allowed to pay for anything in this relationship?” he snips, inserting his platinum american express card into the slot.

“oops”

“whatever, just don’t pull something like that again. i ordered you a credit card linked to my account. it’s coming tomorrow.” he says.

your eyes widen, “WHA-“

he clamps his hand over your mouth, “shhhhh… just accept it”

you nod slowly, “okay… thank you kunaaa”

“mhm” he says as he spins you to the side to get a good look at your new piece. “do you like it?”

“of course i do, you drew it” you say, staring adoringly into his eyes. “wanna tell me what flowers you drew?”

he points to each one as he names them, “alstroemeria, calla lily, baby’s breath, camellia, daisy, marigold, and rose”

“wanna tell me what they mean?”

“no. google it.”

later, when you go to google the flowers, tears well in your eyes at your boyfriend’s thoughtfulness.

[alstroemeria (devotion and friendship), calla lily (magnificent beauty), baby’s breath (everlasting love), camellia (perfected loveliness), daisy (cheerfulness), marigold (power and strength), rose (loyalty and love)]

you come up behind him and jump on his back, kissing his cheek, “you’re the best”

the corner of his mouth lifts, “so when are we getting matching tattoos?”

thank you so much to @saradika-graphics for the beautiful dividers and support banners 🫶

and thank YOU so much for reading! i appreciate you!

[callsign-rogueone]

change of plans

Liam Mairi x reader words: 1.6k 🏷: no book spoilers. she/her reader who Imogen calls a "girl" once. technical part three to the spider and one too many, but can be read as a standalone. these two are getting closer to getting together... I'm on hour 22 of this headache, and it made me think... ✨ riders getting migraines from using their signets too much ✨ and our sweet boy just needs to be taken care and cuddled of for once.

“Good morning, soft one.”

You groan, turning over and burying your face in your pillow. “Too early. Come back in an hour.”

She makes a sound like a laugh. “I thought you wouldn’t want to miss breakfast.”

You blink through the sleepiness, realizing how hungry you are. Did you eat dinner last night? How did you get back from the tavern? Maybe that whole thing was just one of those weird dreams you have when you’re a little too tired — you’re still recovering from that terrible virus that had swept through the quadrant earlier this month. But you must have been completely exhausted if you fell asleep still in your daytime clothes. You’re incredibly picky about that — you don’t even like to sit on your bed in anything you’ve worn outside your room.

And why does it smell like… man in here? Oh, gods…

“Yes, this is your own bed,” she says before you can ask. “And no, you didn’t sleep with anyone. Deigh’s boy walked you back here and made sure you were safe. We are in his debt.”

Deigh’s boy… oh, gods, she means Liam.

You still can’t believe that you fell asleep in your flight jacket. How drunk were you? You yawn into a too-long sleeve, pulling it back and inspecting it. Well, that’s definitely the source of the cologne smell. Oh, shit. Is this Liam‘s jacket?

“Indeed it is. I suggest you freshen up before returning it to him.”

You flop down against the pillow again, groaning. 

“I’ve had enough riders to know that you need hot food after a night like that. And coffee. Up you get.”

She’s right. You scrape yourself out of bed, going through the motions of a shower and heading down to the cafeteria for breakfast, Liam’s jacket draped over your arm in case you run into him there. Hot food does indeed make you feel better, but you don’t see him there, nor any of his usual companions.

You’ll try the gym, maybe. A guy as muscled as him has to be spending his weekend mornings training, too. 

You spot Imogen first, taking a breath before you approach her — she’s intimidating as hell. The twin daggers in her hands don’t help.

“Hi. Uh, is Liam around?”

You regret the question instantly as she looks you up and down shamelessly, unamused. You shouldn’t have assumed she’d know where he was — yeah, they’re friends, but not all Tyrrish move in packs. They aren’t really allowed to, outside of the common areas, anyway. 

You’ve always thought that was a bullshit rule. 

She finishes inspecting you, turning her head and yelling for him. “Liam! There’s a pretty girl here to see you!”

You burn with embarrassment, thankful that the gym isn’t too crowded. At least it’s a reassurance that you’ve cleaned up well enough if she called you pretty. That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever heard her say. 

Liam appears in a split second, out of breath and a little sweaty as he smiles at you. “Hey! I’m glad you’re okay.”

Imogen leaves before you can thank her, clearly not deeming this conversation worth her time. 

“I wanted to return this,” you begin carefully, “and to thank you for getting me back to my room in one piece, and to apologize for whatever dumb stuff I probably said last night when I was super out of it. I swear that’s never happened before, and I won’t let it happen again.”

“Nothing too dumb,” he says, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that tells you otherwise. “And it’s not a problem at all. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You said that already, Deigh reminds him dryly. 

There’s an awkward pause. You rock back and forth on your heels, Liam rubbing the back of his neck — both wondering who should speak next, and what to say. 

He tries something first. “Do you want to study with me for the physics test tomorrow night?”

You weren’t expecting that. 

“Sure,” you squeak. “Meet you after dinner?”

“Sounds good,” he manages, looking like he wasn’t expecting you to say yes.

As if you’d ever decline an invitation to do anything with Liam Mairi. 

You offer him another smile. “Thank you again, really. I’ll get out of your hair now — your friend is waiting,” you excuse, nodding toward Garrick, who stands twenty feet away, looking impatient. He gives you a slick grin from his corner of the room, raising his eyebrows once. 

Maybe his reputation for being a shameless flirt is true.

Liam manages a goodbye, and waits until you’re out of sight to take a whiff of the jacket — it smells like your perfume.

“You’re down so fucking bad, dude,” Garrick laughs, clapping a hand onto the younger boy’s shoulder. “She’s cute, though. Let me know if it doesn’t work out.”

Liam turns to glare at him. 

“I’m kidding,” he says with a grin. “Not about her being cute — she’s a total catch — but I wouldn’t do that to you. Bro code and shit, y’know.”

Liam still looks unamused.

“You should see the look on your face. You wanna hit me soooo bad. Are we gonna fight, or are you saving your energy for later?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows. 

The jacket is dropped rather unceremoniously as Liam lunges forward, intent on tackling Garrick to the ground — easier said than done. 

“Attaboy,” Garrick laughs, pushing back. “Knew that would get you to stop mooning over her and get back to work.”

Liam blinks, realizing that his friend was just messing with him. His moment of hesitation earns him a swift blow to the stomach, winding him. He doubles over, wheezing. “Fuck, Gare! What was that for?”

Xaden laughs from the sidelines. “It was a clean hit. Be glad he chose not to go for the head — don’t want to bust up that cute little nose before your date.”

Liam groans. “Not you, too.”

“Li’s going on a date? Our baby is all grown up,” Bodhi coos, reaching up to pinch his cheek, but his hand is quickly swatted away. 

“Guys, seriously. We’re just studying.”

“That’s what they all say,” Garrick teases. “But physics can turn into anatomy very quickly if you do it right.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Imogen asks. 

“Sounds like someone’s jealous that I have more game than they do.”

The two of them continue their bickering, showing no signs of stopping any time soon, but Bodhi tries to make peace anyway.

“Hey,” Xaden says, touching his brother’s shoulder gently. “She seems nice. I’m happy for you.”

“She’s great. She… she sees past this, y’know,” he says quietly, looking down at his arm. “Most people don’t.”

“Yeah.” Another small silence. “Wanna fight?”

—————————————————————

You know something is wrong as soon as Liam walks in your door — his usual relaxed and cheery demeanor is gone. His bookbag is dragging him down like an anchor, his shoulders slumped. His eyes squeeze shut for a second as he adjusts to the bright mage light of your room, brighter than the dark hallways. 

He visibly relaxes when you wave a hand to dim it; further evidence of your suspicion. 

“Migraine?” you ask softly.

“Migraine,” he confirms, sounding utterly exhausted and a little embarrassed. “I always get them after Carr’s class. Hurts my eyes to use it too much.”

Poor thing.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles. “Know we were supposed to study tonight, but I feel like shit and I probably wouldn’t be good company. Can’t even think right now.”

“You are always excellent company,” you say gently. “But if you just want to lay down for a while, that’s fine. I feel pretty good about the test, anyway.”

He gives you a few slow blinks in response, like he’s wondering if you mean for him to leave and go lay down in his own room, or…

“C’mere,” you offer, patting your leg and scooting down a little to get more comfortable.

He kicks off his boots, shrugs off his jacket, and climbs up with you without hesitation, resting his head on your stomach and wrapping his arms around your hips with a cute, sleepy sigh, tucking in his legs so that they don’t hang off the bed. 

You bring a hand up to stroke his hair, combing your fingers through the soft blonde strands. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “Feels nice.”

“Did you take medicine? Drink some water?”

He makes a lazy sound of affirmation, muffled by your shirt.

“I’m assuming that’s a yes. I don’t speak mumble,” you tease quietly.

He nods his head yes against your stomach, cuddling into you further with a soft hum.

“Alright, sweet boy. Get some sleep if you can, hm?”

Your hand stills, and he whines softly, complaining that you’d stopped. You shake your head in amusement, starting up again. “Sorry, baby.”

Baby indeed — it must hurt pretty badly for the Liam you know, who’s big and tall and tough, ranked first overall in Emeterrio’s challenges, to be this soft and small, letting someone take care of him. Letting you take care of him.

You feel a little swell of pride that he’s okay being vulnerable with you — you suppose it’s warranted after he’d walked your very inebriated self back home from the tavern two days ago. You can trade embarrassments.

Still, you wish he didn’t have to be in pain to come to you like this, to curl up with you like a fully-grown hound who thinks he’s still a lapdog. It’s adorable.

You stay like this until the sun goes down, petting the soft blonde strands and lightly massaging the base of his neck to relieve the tension, even after he’s sound asleep. When your hand slips from his hair again, it’s because you’ve fallen asleep yourself, comforted by the weight of his body against yours and the slow, deep rhythm of his breathing.

[fen-luciel]

The mistakes of a Acolyte

4

Chapters

Summary: You are pregnant with Qimir's child and the universe is not big enough to hide you from him.

There was an embarrassed silence for a few minutes before Sol decided to clear his throat.

"I understand the fear, but this time we'll be more prepared, we won't let him even touch you" I looked at him unsure, I didn't know what was worse, if I brought them there and he was there... even hiding my belly, being seen with the Jedi would be a death sentence, or he could speak out of turn and get me arrested while he escaped, the possibilities were endless and each worse than the other.

"Excuse me, I need... to wash my face" my hands trembled as I tried to get up, Yord beside me stood up worried before offering me a hand which I quickly took, with a nod he pointed me to the bathroom and I hurried there.

The door opened automatically and I rushed inside, closing the door behind me, the sterile light illuminating the small room burned my eyes.

When I rubbed them, I realized the problem, unshed tears filled my lashes, the burning sensation I was starting to feel was the familiar one of crying.

I turned off the light and turned on the smaller, dimmer one above the mirror, in the dark I took a few deep breaths, hands resting on the rectangular sink before placing one on my belly and gently rubbing it.

The dark atmosphere calmed my nerves and fortunately, I managed to hold back the tears, turning on the water I washed my face with my still trembling hands, my shadowed reflection in the mirror was terrible, like the night before, it was written on all my features how bad I felt, the almost sickly purple bags under my eyes, the reddened irises, a disaster that seemed only to worsen.

As I took more breaths, I realized there was talking in the background happening a few meters from me, I could hear them discussing even with the door closed, especially Yord who seemed to have a particularly loud tone.

I pressed my ear to the door to better understand what they were talking about.

"I'm just saying we could try another way" the rhythmic sound I heard was probably his nervous footsteps, I could imagine him pacing back and forth nervously. "I don't like doing this either, but it's our best way," Jecki replied calmly. "We can get an approximate direction and go—" "With the risk of being discovered?" Sol interrupted her.

"And if he's really there? Maybe waiting for us. He'll assume we've rummaged through his things and found his partner" Jecki speculated. "Ex-partner" Yord immediately intervened afterward.

There was a few seconds of silence, I could imagine them looking at each other grimly. "He could be waiting for us with traps, or see us coming and escape while we search for the way, in the best-case scenario he'll be there to retrieve the last things before disappearing, we must seize the opportunity while it's available. He was injured the last time we clashed but I doubt it will slow him down, we must keep up" more muffled sounds followed, and some words I didn't quite catch as they continued to speak in a more controlled tone.

"We should at least give her time to process and understand if she wants to—" Yord's tone was irritated, you could hear it a mile away, but again Jecki intervened. "We must act now. We can help calm her nerves, but we need her and now."

I pressed my forehead against the metal door, weakly rubbing my eyes, I took a deep breath.

I had to think clearly, now more than ever I was caught between two fires ready to explode in my face, what was happening to me? What was I doing? How many times had I already said the wrong thing without even realizing it?

Was this farce I was carrying on the problem?

Had I become too weak?

Had these months of calm made me more docile or was it just me wanting to be? After all, it had already happened many years before.

Sure.

It had already happened.

When everything around you is a lie, you adapt to it, believe you are part of it, accept it, and carry on that fairytale.

I was doing it again, I had adapted to that desire that had started growing in my chest.

To be a normal person, a mother, a civilian like everyone else.

But I had never been that.

I had never been a victim.

Even what Qimir did to me. I let him do it, because deep down, it was what I wanted.

To feel loved regardless of the consequences, of how it would present itself and how I would live it.

I knew what I had to do.

I left the bathroom after washing my face again.

Immediately everyone turned to me, so I gave an encouraging smile. "Sorry, I needed a moment to think. I'll do it... I just ask that you keep me informed of the plan, if something goes wrong I want to understand it. Especially to escape the danger if it arises" I announced with a deep breath.

The reactions I received were different, it was obvious that Yord was not happy about it, Jecki nodded impassively, but Sol was clearly happy with my choice.

"Certainly, we'll organize the plan this afternoon and let you know when we've decided" Sol replied. I nodded before taking a few steps forward. "If it's not a problem, I'd like to go home, especially if we have to leave early, maybe put some clothes in a bag, or retrieve my old blaster." The three nodded. "If all goes well, you'll be away from home for a maximum of one day, but it's right to prevent, thank you again" Sol replied with a slight bow that I returned.

"Wait, I'll accompany you" Yord offered me an arm which I took with a smile. "Thank you"

We left the ship at a slower pace, the city was fully awake by now, the streets were full of busy civilians, but they seemed to easily step aside as we passed, whether to help a pregnant woman or for fear of the Jedi I couldn't tell.

"You're not obligated if you don't want to" Yord suddenly said, I looked at him with a small smile on my lips, he was deliberately avoiding my gaze, walking with a rigid posture, eyes fixed ahead of him.

"It's okay Yord. I want to end this story. Maybe for real this time" the only response I received was a snort from his nose, it was a rather amusing reaction despite everything, although I didn't understand the reason, sure Sol and Jecki were also worried, but he seemed on another planet.

"How sweet, you're worried" I intoned teasingly as I slightly squeezed his arm, the muscle contracting under my fingers.

"Of course I am. We are putting a pregnant woman in danger, I know you're not inexperienced, but we're Jedi, we should protect you, not ask you to be on the front line" I exhaled a snort of amusement. "Well, I have my Jedi knight to protect me, don't I?" I gave him a playful smile, but I could clearly see a slight dark blush on his cheeks.

When we reached my building he accompanied me to the door of my apartment where I let go of his arm.

"See you then?" he nodded before crossing his hands behind his back in a rigid posture. "We'll contact you as soon as we're organized, I'd tell you to bring something you need so maybe prepare a bag, but I don't think we'll contact you before evening. So rest" rummaging in his pockets he handed me a small comlink which I put in my pocket.

"See you later"

I closed the door behind me, the comlink left on the kitchen table as I quickly headed to the bedroom.

I had to do things right if I wanted to get out clean, to kriff with the Jedi, Qimir, and this shitty life I had tried to get into, peace had never existed, all the notions that had been taught to me were dictated by hypocrisy, but I had come out of it and I would come out of it this time too.

Rummaging through the closet, I took a loose shirt to put on, took off my shoes for comfort, and quickly tied my hair in a messy bun on my head.

Sure, if he didn't answer... but at that point, I didn't care, I would make another plan and another until I freed myself from the problem.

I sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, the shutters were still down leaving the room dimly lit, I took deep breaths before closing my eyes, hands resting on my legs.

Over the years Qimir and I had developed a direct bond in the force, which had helped us on many occasions, the more time passed the easier it was for us to use it and outside it was almost impossible to perceive us. In recent months Qimir had repeatedly tried to call me through the force, I had closed the bond as soon as I escaped into hyperspace, the first days were a nightmare, he tried to contact me in every way, dozens of times a day, forcefully. It was obvious he was furious, he immediately realized something was wrong, he was more the type to disappear without saying anything, I wasn't. I would have warned him, I would have told him what I had to do, when I would return, anything, I was paranoid by nature and Qimir was a companion, so it seemed logical to tell him everything.

Even when I had to keep a low profile, I found a way to warn him of the problem, that day 5 months earlier, however, was particularly calm, we weren't doing anything special, so when I took my things and left it took him less than 12 hours to realize something was wrong.

The first calls were calm but insistent, when he realized I didn't intend to answer him, he got furious.

It was absurd how, despite being equals, his presence made me uncomfortable. It was a change I hadn't perceived. It took me five months to realize that what was happening was wrong.

And now I had to reactivate the bond.

And talk to him.

The last time he thought it was a dream, and he still managed to hurt me. I couldn't let him terrify me.

I tried several times, taking deep breaths, trying to reach him through the Force, but between the back pain and the nerves, I could barely concentrate.

I needed to relax, to find his familiar signature.

I lay on my side and closed my eyes again. I had to find Qimir, I had to remember his presence. The night before, we had connected in a dream, more out of visceral instinct, probably. I had emptied my mind of him, had forced myself to forget him, but the arrival of the Jedi had awakened everything, and it would have been hypocritical to deny the truth.

I was worried about him.

Where he was, if he was hurt, if he felt lonely... because of me.

My heart tightened in my chest. A tear rolled down my cheek, but I wiped it away with my sleeve. I hugged one of the pillows to my chest, seeking comfort, rubbing my face against the soft fabric.

The truth was that I missed Qimir terribly.

No matter how much I lied to myself, there was a void in my heart that only he had filled. He would have been so happy to know about this child, would have been by my side, worried about my well-being, massaging my back, and cooking my favorite dishes every day.

I loved him.

And he loved me.

But... the dark side of him wasn't just due to what he had gone through. There was something more visceral, possessive, violent... something that he took out on me.

I thought we were on the same page, that we were equals. But he didn't see it the same way.

I tried again, my arms tightening around the pillow. I tried to imagine him there with me, his delicate yet strong scent, reminiscent of a rain-soaked forest, the warmth of his body, the defined muscles, the numerous scars felt under my fingertips, his soft lips on my forehead... and it was then that I felt him.

It was like seeing a house with an open door from afar. He hadn't noticed that I was searching for him, trying to reach him, but he had left the door open, waiting for me.

And that's how I reached him. The darkness behind my closed eyes was soon illuminated by a cold blue light. I rubbed my eyes from the discomfort before realizing I had made it. My physical form had projected through the Force near Qimir.

I immediately recognized the place, the one I had hinted at to the Jedi. I immediately knew I was right. He had returned here, perhaps for the map, perhaps just to hide.

Looking quickly around, I noticed nothing different from usual. In fact, nothing seemed to have changed at all. It was an old stone room we had turned into our bedroom, although at first glance, it looked more like a storage room. Scrolls, books, devices of all kinds were placed in every corner, on the floor, under or on top of furniture. The windows, usually covered with rudimentary curtains we had hung, were now open, showing the night sky outside.

Walking towards the back of the room, I noticed a backpack carelessly placed on the floor, his clothes haphazardly thrown nearby, and then I spotted some bloodstains but ignored them. I knew who he had fought with, and I remembered Sol and Yord talking about an injury.

And finally, there he was, lying on an old double mattress against the wall at the back, pillows and blankets messily strewn on top, surrounding his sleeping body. A small bandage wrapped around his arm, but apart from that, he seemed fine. He had his back to me, sleeping deeply, his hair tousled on the pillow. I wanted to approach him while he was still asleep, to watch him while he was still peaceful, but I couldn't risk it.

So I did what I had come for.

I approached the small table next to the bed where he kept a flask of some foul-smelling drink and began to hit the metal surface with an open hand, once, twice, three times until Qimir woke up, pulled the lightsaber to him, and ignited it in my direction, terribly confused even as he tried to stand.

"I leave you alone for a few months, and this is the result?" I started, approaching the bed with a flat tone.

I had to be confident. I had dressed specifically to hide the curves of my pregnancy. If I showed any hesitation, he would realize I was hiding much more than I was letting on.

The surprise on his face was almost endearing, his eyes wide and still a bit clouded by alcohol. It took him a few seconds of silence to fully register what was happening.

"Sabrina..." he began to get up from the bed, but I stopped him with a gesture of my hand.

"Let's skip the pleasantries. You're in deep shit" He slowly sat back down on the mattress before deactivating the lightsaber, suspicion clear in his gaze.

"What are you doing here? You disappear for months and then come back to do what exactly?" There was acidity in his tone. This wasn't the dream he thought he was having. He didn't know I was really pregnant, and he didn't see me crying or sad. This probably wasn't the kind of reunion he hoped for. It was just me, waking him rudely and treating him with indifference.

"I've come to warn you. The Jedi know where you're hiding and will be here soon" The surprise and then the confusion were clear in his features. He opened his mouth to speak, but I didn't let him start. "The idiot you were dragging along talked, but I guess you suspected that already. They found... our photo" I added the last part with a frustrated sigh.

"Wait, they found you? Were you captured?" He jumped up, reaching out a hand toward me, but I stepped back a few paces.

"No. I convinced them I was an unaware colleague of yours. But they knew too much, and I had to say some things"

The more details I added, the more confused he seemed. He tilted his head in that cute way I often teased him about, and I held back a smile. It wasn't the right time.

"I'll have to bring them here. We'll probably arrive in less than two days, maybe even sooner. So pack the most important things and hide them on the ship, especially all the Sith artifacts. I don't want those dogs touching or, worse, destroying everything we've recovered..." Without realizing it, I started pacing back and forth in front of him, lost in my thoughts. It was true that many of the things were scattered across the various hideouts we had, but what we wanted to study and analyze, we kept within reach.

Needless to say, between things to do, other... hobbies, and the undeniable laziness of both of us, a lot of things had accumulated here too.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when Qimir suddenly grabbed my wrist. I turned quickly, my heart pounding in my chest, mentally cursing myself for letting my guard down so easily. I shouldn't have let him get too close. Yet in his gaze, I read none of the emotions that made my knees tremble. He looked at me with an unreadable expression.

"Are you okay? How did you reach me without getting caught?" I exhaled deeply before yanking my wrist away from his warm hand. I was sure he noticed my accelerated heartbeat, but it wasn't unusual given the situation we were in.

"Yes. I'm... in a hotel I rented. They left me alone to decide a plan. I hoped to contact you after knowing it, but I doubt I'll have time. We need to think carefully about what to do next." I cleared my throat before sighing. "If you just want to leave before they arrive, I understand. But make sure not to leave any traces. I told that Jedi about our map. If they don't find it, you'll have time to hide and heal," I continued, nodding towards his arm. He shrugged in response, making an irritated grimace. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

"And you? They know about us now. Do you really think they'll let you go?" he continued. I gave him a half-arrogant smile. "I was very convincing in my story. They think I'm just a former colleague and lover. They actually want to protect me from you" I said mockingly, but instead of smiling as I hoped, he lost every ounce of lightness he had. The rigid posture of his back and the darkening gaze made my toes numb from how tightly I was keeping them to avoid stepping back.

"A hotel? Is that what you've been doing for five months? Wandering the galaxy doing what? You left without telling me anything, cutting me off from the bond, and now you reappear, warning me about the Jedi" he began to slowly step towards me with a gloomy look. The anxiety gnawed at my stomach, but I had to keep the façade.

Attack was the best defense, after all.

"And you? I leave for a while, and you find an acolyte, get caught by the Order, and then what?" He stopped mid-step, fists clenched at his sides. I could see how tightly he was keeping his arms contracted. It was obvious he was furious, but my words had hit him at least a little.

"I was looking for you. But I didn't want to let the Jedi go. At one point, I even thought they had taken you, that you had run away to keep me safe... but it seems I was wrong" the last sentence was almost growled, as I raised my arm towards him and instinctively grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards me. With my other hand, I grasped the t-shirt he used for sleeping, forcing him to bend down to my eye level.

The unexpected movement left him silent as he looked back at me, confused.

"I feel like I've always been honest with you all these years. I've always told you everything. I've included you in my personal and non-personal life. For once when I needed my own space, you're angry? And how should I feel?" Both of us were short of breath, our gazes hard, too many things left unsaid, or at least, I was hiding everything from him and continued to lie to his face, since we were friends, an unspoken rule was that I was always honest with him, not because he asked me or some code imposed it on me, but because if there was something my past experiences had taught me, keeping secrets only led to disasters.

But this was different. I had to lie.

I pushed him away from me and he didn't resist. "I'm trying to help you in case you hadn't noticed."

Qimir snorted before crossing his arms over his chest. The muscles in his arms bulged with the movement. Had he become even bigger while I was away? I mentally pinched myself at the thought. It was really the wrong time to fantasize about those arms.

"I have no intention of leaving you alone with the Jedi. Maybe you've tricked them for now, but it's obvious they won't let this go so easily. If they decide to report this to the higher-ups, sooner or later someone will recognize you. And you don't know when or how. I'm staying. And I'm taking you with me," I swore I heard his voice grow huskier towards the end, but I ignored the shiver down my spine and cleared my throat.

"I know. But we have to keep up this facade until the end. At least as an emergency plan"

The silence that followed was tense, almost suffocating. I rubbed my eyes tiredly, and swore I saw him lean towards me for a second before dropping his hands to his hips again, probably bitter and disheartened by how this conversation was going.

"I could pretend to kidnap you" he hypothesized. "You said you're playing the victim, right? Tell me what you told them and maybe I could-"

"No. We want them to leave us alone, not to pursue us more aggressively" it was obvious things would only get worse if we pretended a kidnapping. They were bringing me there, pregnant, by that time they would have felt responsible and there would have been chances that they would call the council. "We have to make sure you slip from under their noses. They mustn't realize you knew about their arrival. But... you could hurt me" an idea finally flashed through my mind. "Of course, they don't know about my Force abilities, you have to attack me-" I began to pace the room as a plan formed in my mind. "No, wait, I don't want to hurt you—" "—as if you could" I interrupted with a mocking tone.

Maybe it was the fact that we weren't really in the same room, maybe it was the months apart, but I felt much less uncomfortable now in his presence, and having the upper hand gave me more confidence. Sure, Qimir wasn't stupid, but I had the advantage. And I needed to get rid of him like the Jedi.

"I told them we were engaged and that I ran away when I realized you were dangerous—" he rolled his eyes before making an irritated grimace "—we can pretend I betrayed you, you attack us in anger, I slip inside and reach the ship we have down here. While you fight the Jedi, I'll activate the doors to buy you time. They'll think a droid helped you, and we can leave on two separate ships" I turned towards him with a satisfied expression.

"Sweetheart. I thought we agreed not to play the kidnapping card" he whispered with an ironic smile on his lips as he took a few steps closer. I ignored the affectionate name he called me, not letting him get into my head and distract me with less important things.

"And indeed, we'll take two separate paths. They'll be too worried about chasing you, and in the meantime, I'll cut off all communication. We'll both have time to disappear"

He looked at me irritably before walking away, throwing the lightsaber casually on the bed as he started taking off his shirt. "This plan sucks" he hissed through his teeth as he continued to undress, calling his usual tunic abandoned in a corner with the Force and starting to get dressed.

"Do you have a better idea? I don't think so. And anyway, for all we know, they could come in four or twenty" I snapped irritably, raising my voice. "Do you realize how many things could go to kriff?" he ran his hands through his hair, frustrated, and I sighed in response, irritated. "I know! We'll improvise, as we always do, but it's better than nothing... Where's Sam?" I asked suddenly, looking around.

"I deactivated him, he kept bugging me because you weren't here and was blaming me" I rubbed my eyes once again before turning towards him and pointing my finger at him. "Reactivate my droid, get help, and keep your eyes open. If everything goes well, we'll drop off their radar for a while, and maybe we can shake them off since you decided to get caught" I snapped irritably.

"Sorry, but can't we just ambush them?" he replied, frustrated.

I swallowed bitterly before answering more calmly, "I can't. Not now. We need to get rid of them calmly" I saw him make another grimace, ready to protest, but I interrupted him again.

"Shut up. You created this problem. That's why I'm the master between the two of us. Don't forget that. You have orders. Execute them." My tone was hard. Disappointed. I sounded convincing. Maybe I was venting a different kind of irritation at the moment, but he couldn't imagine that. Fortunately, I struggled to read him just as he struggled with me.

Ours was more of a dance, armed with sharp claws and lightsabers, ready to attack each other for sport or wound each other out of personal pride. I could suffer as much as I wanted for his actions, be afraid of him, but I had no doubt that deep down, Qimir had the same fear of me.

It was a race to see who would break first.

That's why I couldn't allow him to see my weakness.

"Don't get yourself killed."

And with that, I looked at him one last time before severing the bond. Darkness returned, and when I opened my eyes again, I was still in my bedroom, hugging the pillow, as that forest scent faded from my senses.

[creachiergh]

guys, guys, guys. jax isn't an npc; he's a game dev/mod who got trapped in the circus.

i'm sure someone has already put forth this theory, but with the series still being in its early stages, it's hard to say exactly which direction it's going. while i don't think the npc theory is bad, i think it lacks a foundation and is more so the fandom's attempt to justify jax's moral greyness or give him depth where there currently isn't any. i just wanted to share some of my own thoughts about what his deal might be.

firstly, his design, which is honestly just my own speculation but bear with me. i know goose made some jokes about his clothes being farmer's overalls, but when i look at him, i almost get mechanic vibes? like if he wasn't such a prick, he'd be in charge of fixing any bugs that crop up during the adventures, which is pretty much what a moderator does.

speaking of which, he has keys to all the rooms, which is already pretty sketchy in itself, but it makes sense if you consider that he helped make the circus. naturally, he'd have them on hand in case he needed to access any areas of potential danger. to me, it's a bit like having cheat codes, which definitely gives him an upper hand above the other circus members. (but again, it's not like he's ever going to do his job.)

there's also the "figurine thing," which is probably either a throwaway joke or a thinly-veiled attempt at foreshadowing the npcs-- since their models resemble figurines-- but it's still worth noting. if we assume that the "figurine thing" is referring to the npcs-- which it probably isn't, but again, bear with me-- then it shows just how much jax knows about the circus. as far as i remember, none of the other characters have ever brought up the outside of the map, but obviously, if jax made the game, he's going to know its layouts and inner workings like the back of his hand. i won't go so far as to say he's all-knowing, but i'm sure he knows a lot more than he lets on, and i have a feeling we're going to see that in later episodes.

if he really can predict caine's adventures and whatnot, since he designed them, it explains why he's so unfazed by everything that happens at the circus, from zooble getting taken by the gloinks to running into the gloink queen. the only time he really seems to be surprised is when the game glitches-- when the one gloink started bugging out, when kaufmo abstracted, etc.

i think the mod theory explains jax's personality and motivations. when he first arrived at the circus, there might've been a time when he acted more responsibly, fixing all the bugs, trying to stop the abstractions, etc. he could've been caine's right-hand at keeping everything under control. but maybe he slowly gave up these responsibilities when he realized that people were going to get abstracted no matter what, as we can see from the crossed-off doors in the pilot. it's very possible that he became consumed by his mod privileges when he began acting more recklessly and faced zero repercussions for his actions. essentially, he's a step above everyone else in terms of knowledge, awareness, and grants of power-- probably just below caine on the power ladder, though pomni could also rival him as she comes to learn more about the circus. depending on how jax uses his abilities, he could either help everyone find the exit or slowly lead them towards abstraction, and given what goose has said about the future of the series, it's not looking very optimistic for anyone involved.

but what do i know? this theory could be completely nonsensical and riddled with plot holes. i just like to hyperanalyze jokes 🥲

[carlsangel]

EMBARRASSMENT

carl grimes x fem!reader

(negan embarrasses you and carl during the lineup.)

tags: i have no idear but negans in this one and he’s a BITCH

masterlist here!

The Lineup was the worst day of your life. Not only were you practically sobbing for half of it but you were also angry. You were angry, scared, and frustrated.

Before the lineup, you were helping pack up the RV, you were in charge of packing all the medicine and food that Maggie would need for the ride. You’d had a large bag of anything she’d need and you approached the RV and walked up the steps, heading to the bed in the back. You put it on the shelf and turn to leave to be met with Carl.

“Hey.” He puts a jug of water on the floor by the door. “Nervous?” You ask, knowing he’d not gone to Hilltop before and with the risk of the Saviors after the death of Denise, losing tons of people, he was worried. But he refused to show that. “No. Why would I be?” He mumbles, making his way back out of the RV and his tone sort of throws you off.

Before you can think of an answer, Rick instructs Carl to collect guns from the armory, and you decide to follow. You catch up to him and look at his expression, he seems different which is explanatory but you wanted details. “I was just thinking…you’d be worried since…the Saviors? Everything that happened.” You explain. He walks with a blank expression.

“I’m not nervous, I’m not letting it happen again. That’s why you’re not going.” You stop in your tracks and he slows down, looking back at you as if your reaction was unreasonable. “Excuse me?” He turns back around and continues walking. “Don’t just walk away, you can’t just tell me I can’t go.” You try and reason with himself, but he simply doesn’t wanna hear it. He continues walking to the armory.

In spite of that, you went home and started packing. Anything you’d need or anything important for the trip, you didn’t know how long you’d be staying at Hilltop.

When you left the house, you hopped down the stairs, noticing Sasha grabbing from the house’s cabinets. She stops you before you continue out the house. “What was all that about?” She questioned, you assume she and some others had seen what’d gone on with Carl earlier. It sort of threw everyone off, he was never that closed off with you.

You pause before thinking, trying to figure out what’d happened yourself. “I…that’s a good question.” You sort of chuckle embarrassingly, you were thrown off by his demeanor. “I’m sure it’s nothing, I think he’s just…upset about everything.” You continue. Sasha nods. “You’re still going?” She zips up her bag and throws it over her shoulder.

“He’s not stopping me.”

Which he didn’t, he tried his hardest to persuade you but you wouldn’t budge. You wanted to be there in case anything happened, most importantly you wanted to be there for Maggie. It took an entire argument for you to be able to get on the damn RV. “You know they’re out there. I can’t let anything happen to you.” While you understood where he was coming from, it seemed relatively hypocritical.

“You’re being ridiculous, when have we not been able to handle something? If anything happens, we’re getting out alive. I don’t care. I’m going.”

─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───

Unfortunately, you were in for a rude awakening. Maybe he was right, but you still wanted to be there. Be beside him during everything. You had to be, you had to see it all happen. He believed that as well. Maybe not for you, but he knew he had to see it.

This man, Negan seemed to be a total asshole, the way he had you all lined up for him, his cruel jokes. You had to admit he was a little funny, but now was definitely not the time. He’d been taunting you and the people you called your family for what felt like hours. He threatened you to no end, explaining how your life basically revolved around him now.

Negan paced back and forth, looking between you all. You were angry, you hadn’t cried yet but you were pissed, reasonably so. He was at the other end of the line when he looked in your direction. His sharp gaze made your stomach drop, you knew it was your turn. You look down for a moment as he walked over to you, swallowing hard before looking up at him like his presence was irritating, not terrifying.

He smiles as he approaches, immediately noticing the look in your eye. “Someone’s mad.” He chuckles, looking to the others while gesturing to you with Lucille. Despite your nerves, you were fairly irritated. Your knees felt like they were nailed to the ground, they hurt terribly and it only rubbed off on your attitude towards Negan. “How does a girl like you, get wrapped up with these kinds of people?” You tilt your head at him with a disgusted look. “You’re one to talk. This is my family.” You retort. He jokingly acts shocked at your rebuttal. “Well excuse me! The last time I checked, your people,” he puts Lucille in your face, “…killed a whole lot of my people, completely unwarranted.”

You knew it was bullshit. You knew about their agreement with Hilltop, the sixteen year old boy they killed. But you couldn’t say anything, not now. While Negan spewed bullshit, you looked to Carl for the first time since Negan had noticed you.

He was glaring at him. Something told you this wouldn’t go well, especially for Carl. He was going to say something but you didn’t know what. Negan noticed your attention strayed away from him, god knows he had to be the center of attention all of the time. This prompted him to put Lucille under your chin, directing you to look back at himself. Doing so, the barbed wire sliced the bottom of your chin open, causing you to wince slightly.

“What the hell are you getting out of this?” Carl exclaimed, drawing everyone’s attention. You wipe the blood off your chin with your sleeve, staining the shirt you were wearing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you all hot n bothered.” Negan sympathized sarcastically. “Just leave her alone. Harassing her won’t do you any good.” Carl grimaces at Negan and he can’t help but laugh.

“Wow…” Negan smiles at Carl’s efforts to stick up for you, realizing that he could use it to break him. “So, I’m assumin you two are..well you know.” He suggests. You both look up at him with peevish looks. “I see why. You both got somethin in common.”

You look to Carl and he looks to you. You both avert your eyes back to Negan. “You’re both very, very easy to piss off. I imagine you’ve got a healthy relationship.” He taunts.

“I guess I’m just shocked you got a girl with that eye of yours, I bet you haven’t shown her what’s underneath that bandage huh?” Your eyes go wide at his comment. Carl doesn’t seem to react to it in any way, he was too angry. “The game you’re playing, it’s not gonna work.” Carl remarks. “You’re not gonna win.”

Negan kneels to Carl’s level, boring his eyes into his intently. The rage Carl felt gave him the urge to just kill Negan right there. That’d only get everyone else killed. “I guess we’ll find out.” Negan smirks before returning back to towering over the lot of you.

God, the embarrassment.

a/n: hey guys currently writing this very hungry. anyway i have a final tmr for english and im praying it goes well muehehe IVE BEEN STRUGGLING TO FIND THE MOTIVATION TO WRITE but tomorrow is my last day of school so you guys will get me for about two months HAHAH you’re gonna be so sick of me. also, don’t be worried to send requests even if you think they’re bad, half the time they’re really good so keep sendin them!

taglist: @zomb-1-egutzz @evilnight07 @ilikestrawberriesandwomen

[cupidsdolll]

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; best friend!harry x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; time apart helps both Harry and Y/N learn more about themselves and their feelings.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 3.1k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; slight angst? i’m pretty sure that’s it!

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; hi hello! here’s the long awaited part two! part one is linked here for anyone who hasn’t read it yet! i hope you all like it <3

- - - -

Heartbreak is always one of the worst pains, but Harry thinks the absence of someone that’s been in your life for as long as you can remember hurts worse. It’s been a week since Y/N said she needed space after confessing her feelings for him and he’s just miserable. He’s not as happy as he normally is, and it seems as if everything reminds him of her. Even the things his girlfriend Liv does reminds him of his best friend, he’s found himself comparing the two.

He doesn’t mean any harm honestly, just sometimes Liv will do something and his mind will go back to how Y/N would do the same thing just differently. For instance, Liv is on her way to bring him some tea in hope it’ll cheer him up at least just a little bit, Harry’s excited to try her tea. It’s one of his favorite drinks if he’s being honest. A knock comes from the door and he tells his roommate that he’ll get it, he’s already standing up and making his way to the door. When he opens it, Liv is standing in front of him sporting a bright smile and happiness.

“Hi, hon. I brought you that tea I was talking about!” She says and he smiles back, a little hesitant but excited nonetheless.

“Thanks, babe. Come on in, I hope you don’t mind that my roommate’s here.” He says and she shakes her head, his mate’s never been a problem with Liz, the one thing he notices is different from Y/N. Liz is more natural hanging around in the boys’ dorm whereas Y/N tended to not want to come over. Something about the smell and how loud the halls are, he doesn’t blame her most of the time though. Liz walks over and makes herself comfortable on the arm rest of the chair Harry was sitting at before, ushering him over excitedly. He chuckles as he makes his way over, reminding him of how Y/N would act whenever she’s excited to show him something.

He sits down and she hands the cup to him, it's warm but not too hot, he’s assuming the walk here helped cool it down. He takes a hesitant sip, he doesn’t want to take too big of a sip just in case he doesn’t like it. It’s good, sweet but still has that leafy taste and it flows nicely. It’s not overwhelming with any of the tastes and it’s just.. good. He smiles as he stares at the cup, his mind wandering back to Y/N. He always enjoyed her tea, she always managed to create the perfect balance and temperature. Y/N makes the perfect tea, will always be better than anyone’s, better than Liz’s.

He shouldn’t be thinking about Y/N right now though, so he blinks twice to clear his head and turns to his girlfriend.

“It’s good, thank you. I appreciate you doing this for me, I know you didn’t have to.” He says and she just laughs.

“I know, I wanted to, H. It’s no big deal really.” She says. He feels bad, ever since he and Y/N stopped talking as much, he’s found himself comparing the way Liz cooks and acts to Y/N.

Y/N likes to wear more cozy clothes unless it’s actually going out, where she feels like she needs to impress someone whereas Liz tends to dress up all the time. She’s always dressed in nice looking clothes and adorned in jewelry and smells nice. He likes that Y/N always felt comfortable with him and didn’t feel the need to impress him, not that he doesn’t like that Liz puts forth all this effort into her looks because he does. Whenever he and Liz go to watch a movie, she normally wants to watch something with romance but occasionally she’ll tell Harry to turn on whatever he wants if she’s coming over for a nap.

Y/N usually put on a comedy movie and sometimes they ended up being a rom-com but they always alternate days so Harry can feel included. He misses that, he misses Y/N. He’s not sure if they’ll ever talk again, he thinks her dramatics are rubbing off on him. He just hates the absence of her, he never realized just how happy she made him feel. She made him feel warm and sometimes he’s got those silly butterflies whenever he looks at her, but he just assumed that was normal for how close of a friendship they had. He never realized just how much time they spent together, how special she was and how different from his other love interests he’s had.

But he’s never considered Y/N as a love interest, she’s always just been his best friend. Sure enough, he did like to flirt with her a little bit whenever he was drunk but that was only because he liked seeing her all flustered. He thought it was cute and it was hard for him to get her like that. Yeah, he loved her but in the same way friends love each other, it’s normal for them to say it before leaving or just because. They’ve always been just friends, the best of friends and that’s how they were supposed to be.

He feels a tap on his shoulder, a soft touch to bring him out of his mind, he’s been doing that almost daily.

“You’re thinking about her again, Haz. Can’t we just hang out without her taking your attention? This is good, it allows you to be your own person now.” Liz says sweetly, genuinely. She tries to be supportive, she really does but there’s just so long you can watch your boyfriend be heartbroken over a girl, especially one he never dated. They haven’t even been dating long, but they had only been dating for a couple of days before Harry told her she had to meet his best friend. Ever since Y/N shut the door on them and he had ushered her back so he could try to talk to his best friend and figure everything out with tears beginning to fill his eyes, it’s just been a repeat of the same days over and over again.

- - - -

When Harry walks the halls, he can’t help but to hope that he’ll be able to see Y/N on her way to class. He admits that it’s weird not walking her to class and being around her, it was their norm for quite a while. A part of him hopes that when he sees her that she’s just as miserable as him but he feels bad about that, he wants her to be happy. He wants to see that she’s doing well and that she’s happy. He always loved to see her happy, it just looked so good on her. So when he sees her sporting a bright smile as she talks with two people he hasn’t seen before, it makes his heart skip a beat and hurt a little at the same time. He’s happy that she’s doing well, he really is, it just hurts that he’s not the cause of the bright smile on her face.

He hopes that she’ll look over here so he can wave, just a small acknowledgment would hold him over he thinks. The halls are crowded and loud, he can’t help but to sigh as he accidentally bumps into someone. She always had this magnetic aura to her, always had his gaze being pulled to her. Ever since she called for a break, she’s all he’s ever been able to think about, the main thing he looks at and for. He wants even the smallest attention from her, it helps the pain in his heart.

He watches as her head turns just the slightest and their eyes meet, a warm feeling enveloping Harry as he smiles and waves at her. She just gives him the same smile she’s always given him, warm, friendly and loving, and waves back. The pain goes away leaving a happy feeling in his chest, he doesn’t feel bad about bumping into students in the hall. He watches as she walks away before making his way to his own class.

- - - -

Y/N doesn’t miss Harry as much as she thought she would. That’s a lie, she misses him terribly but after a couple of days moping and several streams of tears shed, she thinks she’s doing okay. He stays on her mind but she’s able to tune those memories out by doing the activities she likes. She joined some book club on campus and made a couple of friends that enjoy some of the same stuff she does, which is such a relief. While Harry listened and tried his best to participate in things she enjoyed but some stuff he just never got into the way she did.

The past week she’s been attending the book club and talking about the books they’re reading, she’s cut back on some of the stuff she used to do. She dropped out of two of her classes that she did just for fun and stopped volunteering every week to give herself more time to relax. She walks with them to class when she can, and they talk on the phone sometimes. She’s happy for the most part, happier than she thought she would be.

Don’t get her wrong, she still gets upset over the fact that Harry isn’t around all of the time, it’s usually late at night or early in the morning when she misses him the most. She misses him when his favorite song plays and when she sees him in the hallway. She feels bad then, seeing him all heartbroken and moping around. She’s never seen him so down, and she wishes she never said anything to begin with in those moments. She hates the fact that he’s heartbroken over her.

She’s happy for the break, as much time as the two spent together, the break allows her a chance to know who she is outside of Harry. She’s found ways to cope with this ache for him, playing songs he’s never heard before distracts her from thinking of him. Finding new books to read, new shows to watch. Not letting her look at him for too long whenever they pass each other in the halls, hide his clothes (minus the one hoodie she sleeps

in, she can’t bear to part with it because after all it’s not a complete end to the friendship.

She spends a little (a lot) of time telling herself that just being friends is okay, her feelings will go away and they’ll go back to being best friends. She knows they won’t go back to being where they were before she confessed, but hopefully it’ll be somewhat the same as before. She hopes with everything in her that she’ll be able to get over her feelings for him in a reasonable time, and doesn't want to drag this out any longer than what’s needed. She’ll remind herself when she starts thinking of him randomly, when she sees a picture of them in her phone. They always should’ve been best friends, nothing more and nothing less. That’s how the universe wanted them to be.

Everything was fine the way they were, now she has to get over her feelings for him in order to get him back. She sees him everywhere it seems, hard to avoid him even though she doesn’t necessarily want to, in the halls at school or passing by on the sidewalks. She’s nice to him, doesn’t want to make him feel even more upset. She can feel his eyes on her every time, a tingling feeling on the back of her neck before she turns around to face him.

She’s met with the same hurt expression, his eyes full of emotion and telling her how much he misses her. He waves subtly as if he doesn’t think she’ll see it, won’t want to see it but of course she does. She always sees it, how could she not see it when anytime they’re in proximity of each other gems all she’s able to look at. Of course she waves, even gives him a warm smile, one that has and always will be reserved just for him. She still wants to be friendly with him, to keep that door open for the two of them and their friendship.

They don’t really talk other than saying hi as they pass one another in the halls, or if they happen to need to copy notes. They got partnered once after everything, a sense of awkwardness filled the air between them and Y/N hated it. Hated that she felt like she didn’t know what to talk about, didn’t know what limits were with this weird boundary set by her. She feels like she should know, she should’ve known since she was the one who drew the line.

Their conversations were awkward and pointed, pain lingering in their voices as they mentally decided not to talk about anything personal. It’s better that way honestly, it keeps her from breaking and allowing him back when she knows she’s not ready. The wall built between them shows her just how much he’s hurting, shows her how much she hurt him. She never meant to hurt him, she knew breaking it off would cause a toll on him. She never thought it would be as bad as it is, never expected to see the bags forming under his eyes.

She never expected him to be so…torn up about it, to cave in on himself and go quiet. She can feel his eyes on her all of the time, and can see whenever he fights back tears. She watches as Liz tries to cheer him up, hugs him and runs her fingers through his hair. She watches as Liz brings him cups of whatever drink is in them, watches as he thanks her with a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. She thought that maybe he’d continue partying like he always did, ignore her or something of the sort. He should be giving all of his attention to Liz, not moping on about losing her. His mind just always seems to be elsewhere, his gaze is always sad and unfocused.

- - - -

Two months later the two are doing just fine on their own. Y/N found out from a classmate that’s on Harry’s soccer team that Harry had broken up with Liz about a month ago. They wouldn’t say why they broke up and Y/N wasn’t going to be the one to ask. The two of them have gotten more friendly with one another, there’s no awkwardness whenever they’re paired up and they’ll sometimes sit together at lunch. Y/N thinks she’s able to be his friend again, and doesn't get the intense butterflies in her stomach whenever she looks at him.

She doesn’t want to kiss him as much as she used to, although the urge still comes up whenever she thinks he’s being the cutest boy ever. She decides to bring it up as they sit together during lunch.

“Hey, Harry?” She asks and he hums in response to her.

“I think I’m ready to be your friend again.” She asks and watches as his face lights up. His eyes brighten and a huge smile appears on his face.

“Really?” His voice is full of excitement and she smiles as she nods.

“Yeah, I think so.” He immediately wraps her in a hug and she melts into it.

“I missed you, honey.” He says and she smiles as she responds.

“I missed you too, Haz.” He squeezes her tighter, as if he wants to remember the feeling of her body pressed against his.

“Those three months without you were absolutely horrible. I want to apologize again for leading you on unintentionally, but these three months have shown me something.” He says as he pulls away.

She stares at him confused, he’s already apologized numerous times so she’s not sure what else needs to be said.

“What’s that?” She asks and he smiles.

“I can’t imagine a life without you by my side. I missed you so much and hated not being able to just come over and talk to you. I like you. I’m sorry for not realizing it sooner and I know it’s a terrible time to say it now that you’re back in my life. It’s perfectly okay if you don’t feel the same way anymore, but if you do I’d love to ask you out and take you out properly.” He says and she almost wants to scream.

She spent so much time getting over him and now he just wants to spring his feelings on her now? She thinks the whole situation is absolutely absurd and the two of them have terrible timing of their feelings. She sighs tiredly as she stares at him.

“When did you figure this out, you dummy?” She asks and he shakes his head, as if he’s in disbelief.

“Uh like a month and a half ago, I think? I’m not quite sure when exactly it happened. All I know I spent my whole relationship with Liz comparing her to you and I missed you entirely too much to ever risk losing you again. The whole like high school years up until three months ago, we acted like a couple unknowingly. I know we just labeled it best friends, but normal best friends don’t act like we did. I’m sorry once again,” Harry says as he watches her in hopes he’ll be able to read her.

She just smiles softly at him, her eyes so full of emotions that it’s hard to read which ones are in them.

“You better be glad my feelings for you didn’t go away completely. Yes you can take me out, Harry. It’s okay, I’ve missed you too.” She says and immediately his hands make his way to her face and he slowly begins to move closer. He wants to allow her time to say no, to change her mind but it never comes and he smiles briefly before their lips meet in a soft tender kiss. A kiss so full of love and warmth, making up for all the years missed and tears she cried unknowingly. It fills both of them with happiness as she giggles into the kiss and pulls away.

“Does that mean I can call you my boyfriend now?” She asks and he nods.

“Baby, you can call me anything you want now,” He says and she laughs, a mischievous flickers passes through her eyes.

“Even my best friend?” He immediately shakes his head and laughs.

“Anything but that.”

[seiya-starsniper]

Six Degrees of Separation

Rating: Teen || Chapters: 1/4 || Word Count 1.4k

Summary:

The Dead Boy Detectives run into a familiar pub while out on a case, and Crystal has to contend with an unfortunate event from her past.

Hob Gadling wasn't planning on adopting three teenagers and a full grown woman, but stranger things have happened in his long centuries of life.

Read here on Tumblr, or over on AO3

dedicated to @softest-punk for making me emotional about Hob adopting the kids in DBD 💖

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

“In here!” Edwin shouts, gesturing frantically at the entrance to a pub that looks vaguely familiar to Crystal. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have much time to wonder before the banshee chasing them lets out a blood curdling scream. Crystal rushes in with Charles right behind her, pushing the door and slamming it shut behind her. Thankfully the pub seems to be completely empty except for one man. 

A man who looked extremely pissed off to see them.

“Oh bloody hell, fuck no, not you, out!” the older man shouts, moving out from behind the bar and looking ready to chase them out by force if necessary. Crystal braces herself, glancing around frantically for some sort of back door that she can bolt to if necessary. She’s pretty sure she can outrun him.

Charles and Edwin however, are a different story.

“Hob, it’s us!” Charles exclaims, throwing up his hands in an attempt to show no harm.

“We’re sorry for bringing a ghost to your door, Mr Gadling,” Edwin adds. “If you’ll just let me borrow one of your books to get rid of this banshee, we’ll be out of your hair.” 

“Not you two, her,” the man, Hob (what the hell kind of name was that?) growls, pointing at Crystal accusingly. Edwin and Charles turn to her in shock, and Crystal is about to protest that she has no idea what this man is on about, but then the memory of how she knows Hob Gadling comes flooding back to her.

The pub they’d run into was The New Inn and Crystal had almost burned it down last year because some girl she hated at school had come here for her 18th birthday. With all of Crystal’s friends, sans Crystal. Ex-friends now, since Crystal had tried to burn the place down with the whole party still inside. Hob had, unsurprisingly, pressed charges, and it took a lot of money from her parents to make everything go away.

“I’m sorry!” Crystal yells, just as the banshee screeches and slams its body against the door behind them. It lights up an iridescent blue, a warding against ghosts. Of course Crystal had to go and fuck up the one supernatural relationship she had because she was an idiot asshole last year. 

“I know this isn’t a great time, but I’m kind of a different person now?” Crystal says, having no idea how to even begin to explain the weird circumstances of the last month. “I swear what my past self did isn't who I am now,” she adds, also raising her hands to show she means no harm. 

“She’s part of the Dead Boy Detectives Agency, mate,” Charles interjects, while Edwin nods furiously in agreement. “Please don’t throw her out!”

The banshee lets out another screech and slams itself against the door, rattling the frame so hard that Crystal’s afraid it might fly off the hinges at any moment. Whatever ward Hob had placed, it wasn’t going to hold out for that much longer.

“What the hell is going on?!” a familiar voice cries out, and then Jenny Green of all people is coming out of what Crystal assumes is the kitchen. She’s also brandishing a butcher knife, because why would any of that change now that she lives across the pond?

“Jenny?!” Charles and Edwin yell.

“Oh fuck,” the older woman curses, glancing back and forth between the three of them and Hob. Crystal really hopes they haven’t just gotten Jenny fired. Finding a job had been tough enough for her when they'd relocated, and she had refused any help financially from Crystal.

“You know them?!” Hob asks, shock clear in his voice.

“It’s a long story,” Jenny grumbles, then screams when the banshee throws itself against the door again. “What the fuck, why did you lead a ghost here? ”

The door rattles and creaks, and the ward around the pub shimmers and vibrates angrily, which seems to finally prompt Hob to action. He straightens his back, rubs a hand over his face, and then takes one, two, three deep breaths before he looks them all over appraisingly. 

“Jenny, get the salt from the back,” Hob orders, gesturing her back to the kitchen. “The iron knives should be on the shelf next to them. Edwin, you know where the tomes are,” he adds pointing upwards, likely towards a room on the second floor of the pub. Jenny and Edwin nod quietly before disappearing to their designated posts, leaving Crystal and Charles alone with Hob.

“Right, so since when have the Dead Boys gotten themselves involved with trust fund brats?” Hob asks, still eyeing Crystal warily as if he expects her to pull out a lighter at any moment. 

“Since this trust fund brat got possessed by a demon and got her memories stolen,” Crystal answers, wincing when she realizes how harsh that sounds. “Sorry. I just recently got them back and it's been a weird time. I really am sorry though. For like, nearly burning this place to the ground cause I was mad.”

“You did what? ” Charles cries out, his mouth agape. “Please tell me that was all David’s doing.”

Crystal scrunches up her face and then shakes her head. “I wish it was, but no. Just plain old shitty Crystal,” she answers truthfully.

Hob looks between the two of them, then sighs, his expression softening. 

“Look, clearly you’ve done some soul searching and I am the last person who should be allowed to hold a grudge against someone who’s done some bad things,” he says, then gestures to Charles. “If the boys vouch for you, then I’m willing to bury the hatchet. All right, Ms Von-Hovercraft?”

“Please just call me Crystal,” Crystal pleads. She really hated being referred to by her surname. It still felt weird and foreign to her, after everything she had gone through. Hob huffs, and this time when he looks at her, there isn’t a shred of contempt in his expression.

“Yeah okay. Crystal,” he says warmly. “You can call me Hob.”

Crystal wants to ask where the hell the name Hob comes from, because she’s pretty sure she remembers his name being Richard , but before she can say anything, Edwin and Jenny come back and Hob turns his full attention to taking care of the banshee that’s trying to get past the wards he has around the entire pub. 

“You’re lucky Tuesday’s a slow night,” Hob says, before he starts flipping through the tome. “Jenny, Crystal, make a salt circle by the tables over there,” he adds, pointing to his left. “You’re going to need to lead her there so we can trap her.”

Crystal and Jenny make as large of a circle as they can, pouring generous amounts of salt into the floor. When they’re done, Hob instructs them to the front of the pub, where the door is still rattling and glowing angrily. Edwin and Charles are standing next to Hob, Charles with his cricket bat out, and Edwin and Hob ready to chant the spell within the tome. 

“When I count to three, open the door and run like hell into the salt circle,” Hob tells them. “One, two, THREE!”

Crystal throws open the door and both she and Jenny cover their ears as they run towards the salt circle. The banshee’s cries are even louder now that she’s inside the pub, but their plan works. She follows them straight into the circle, then screeches again in anger once she realizes she cannot follow them out. Her long hands try to grab for Jenny’s apron, but Charles materializes right at the circle’s edge to bat her hand away. 

Hob and Edwin start chanting some spell in what Crystal assumes is Latin, and the banshee screeches at an even louder volume than before. The salt circle alights a bright gold, and Crystal and Jenny are practically thrown backwards by the force of the magic taking effect.

The banshee lets out one more high pitched scream, and then her dark grey dress suddenly becomes stark white, dark and wet black hair paling slowly to a soft light brown. When the banshee lifts her face, her eyes are no longer sunken and black, but wide and bright green. 

She’s beautiful, now that she’s no longer in pain.

The Night Nurse shows up shortly afterwards, collecting the woman and gently reassuring her that she’s going to a better place. She looks at Hob like she’s offended by his very existence, which the man takes in stride and cheerfully waves her off, telling her to say hello to her boss for him. 

“Right then,” Hob says after the banshee and the Night Nurse have left. “Now that that’s taken care of, care to explain to me what the bloody hell is the connection with you lot?”

[evangelic-echo]

ℭ𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔞𝔩 𝔓𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱

Part 1:

Teaser< >Part 2

Walking down the streets of heaven, sipping on a cold drink through the straw as you held a folder filled with boring paperwork you had filled out only just this morning. For the past week you've been dealing with all types of bullshit from the humans that you're trying to repair since your absence from Earth. Ever since Lucifer decided to give mankind the “gift” of free will, your job has become a lot more difficult than before.

“Thanks for the Luci”

Sera requested a meeting with you which isn’t too surprising. As the high Seraphim she was your supervisor, and she always seemed to want to bitch about one thing or another to you with her new found authority. Taking a final sip from your drink before throwing it away in a near by bin, you moved the huge folder from one hand to the next as you walked into the huge, pearlescent building in front of you.

“It’s nice to see you’re not late for once Y/N.”

You looked up at the huge Seraphim before you as you simply replied with a hum. After the whole ‘Lucifer making Eve eat the apple incident,’ Sera made sure to keep her distain towards you evident. Obviously making it clear that she blames you for the whole ordeal.

“I called you up here today to review a certain case l’m having trouble with-”

As sera was Talking the office door behinds you slams shut, interrupting the Angel before you. You look behind to see Emily, cringing as she looks back at the source of the loud noise, then look back in your direction and she smiles and waves at you.

“Sorry for interrupting, I just wanted to overlay the massage that everything’s ready”

She beats her wings to fly closer to her sister, quickly whispering something in her ear. Furrowing your eyebrows as you look back and forth between them. Sure, Sera has always has some sort is stigma towards you and always makes it a point to tell you things last minute, or hell never tell you things at all. But you could tell there was a lot more to this meeting as she was letting on, honestly making you a little more nervous than you’d like to admit.

Turning back to face you Sera gives Emily another glance before resuming to what she was saying.

“Y/N, as you may of heard. The princess of Hell was up here in heaven as Lucifer, her father demanded that she pitch a certain idea of hers”

Sera pauses as to see your possible reaction to her bringing up an old friend of yours, acting as though his name curses whoever’s tongue dare speaks his name. You raise your eyebrows in response, signalling that she should continue.

“She has some sort of idea that sinners down in hell can be redeemed through the means of this ‘Hazbin Hotel’ she’s been building. We discussed it in court but it was decided that sinners in fact, can’t be redeemed and with that she was sent back down to hell.”

“Hm, you mean the same heavenly court where it was revealed that Adam’s Exorcist go down to hell once a year to exterminate sinners? I’m also assuming you mean the same court I wasn’t invited to but yet, l’m possibly the best person who could of been there as I work with those human souls 24/7 and know the most about these kind of things more than anyone else in that court? Yes I think I know exactly which one you’re talking about.”

You keep making eye contact with the Seraphim in front of you even after finishing your rant. She glares back at you, looking down then back up to your face as you still keep that same glare towards her.

“I think we both know why you weren’t welcome to sit in that court session, who knows how you’d react. Especially when you allow your emotions to drive you so.”

Your wings ruffle behind you, signalling you were fed up with Sera’s constant condescension towards you. You slightly fidget in your seat as your glare doesn’t budge from her face.

“I would’ve loved to meet the daughter of an old friend of mine. I’m not surprised you think of me so low and pathetic that you think I’ll have a tantrum by every little thing associated with him.”

“I also think it’s pathetic that you still think of him as a friend of yours, after everything he’s still done you see him as a pure little angel who’s done nothing wrong”

Leaning further back on the chair you were sat on, you crossed your leg on top of the other as you grinned up at the unnecessarily tall woman in front of you.

“If anything Sera, that proves I’ve moved on. I don’t allow hatred to control my feelings anymore, I suggest you don’t either.”

You had to admit that you were slightly lying to the Angel as you spoke those words, as you’d be a hypocrite if you weren’t, but it was worth it for that look on her face. Finally humbling her from that high horse of hers.

“Hellooo, I am the great Ssir Pentious~ It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance~”

You looked down at the weird snake man before you as he bowed his head towards the ground, tilting your head to the side in confusion. This is what Sera was so worried about? Looking back to the Seraphim’s who lead you here to try and get a little bit more information.

“Sir Pentious here is a ‘former’ demon from hell, who has apparently been redeemed through Charlie’s Hotel and has now, been sent up here in heaven.”

Your demeanour completely changes from one of uninterested to one of astonishment. Looking between the two sisters however, the totally different attitudes upon their faces told two very different stories. Sera of course couldn’t have looked more unamused with the situation even if she tried, Emily however looked ecstatic about the evidence of redemption, her hands clasping together in front of her chest as her wide smile and bulging eyes take over her features.

“This is a great day for Heaven and for Hell! We finally have evidence that redemption is indeed possible and now reason to stop those brutal exterminations, right Sera?”

Sera looks at her sister with a completely different demeanour than before, making herself seem for hopeful about the situation at hand.

“Of course Emily! Me and Y/N here will deal with it immediately, but I suggest for now you handle matters that your assistance a lot more than this one.”

You frowned while looking at the younger Seraphim, though her smile never fading from her features. She must be too excited of the news that she couldn’t hear the dishonesty in her older sisters voice.

With Emily now out of the room, Sera went back to looking uninterested as she did before, her focus now landing back on you and the former sinner besides you.

“Watching you lie to your poor sister is honestly disheartening Sera, dear Emily has a point. If redemption is now indeed possible, there is no need for the exterminations to continue-”

“That absolutely is not an option in this situation. Yes we now have proof that redemption is possible but that doesn’t differ us from the fact that hell may be planning an uproar against us, against heaven.”

Taken aback by the interruption, you turn your focus over to the former sinner beside you, noticing the awkward feeling he’s emitting from himself.

“If I may I assure you-”

“No you may not”

Sera now all riled up and irritated, springs her wings out from behind her as her angelic form starts to poke through from her annoyance. In response the man yelps and he steps behind you for safety from that death piercing gaze of hers, which then travel over to you.

Her wings retract back in towards her but the eyes now littered across her body remain where they are.

“I except you to deal with this matter Y/N, you constantly complain I do not give you the benefit of the doubt, you can use this as an opportunity to prove me wrong and maybe make up for your wrong doings from the past.”

Now you knew you absolutely had no choice in the matter, saying no wasn’t an option at all. But knowing the fact that all she wanted to do was just push all her mistakes onto you to fix was absolutely aggravating. However, keeping yourself calm was best for right now.

Nodding back to the woman as your response, she took that as her cue to leave, not seeing anymore reason to stay in this helpless situation.

As the door closed shut, the serpent who had been holding onto your shoulder for safeguarding had finally found it appropriate to let go after muttering an apology.

At least he was well mannered.

You turned to him offering a comforting smile. He’s probably been so confused for the past hour he’s been in heaven, and by God could you say he hasn’t gotten the normal, outgoing introduction normal new residents are greeted with when spawning at heavens great golden gates. Though you can admit his situation is quite different than others, you can sense his soul is worthy than every other soul up here in heaven among him.

You extend your arms, motioning him to sit at the table near by. He follows your direction and sits as you sat along side him, summoning a pen and notebook with your magic.

“Now if you don’t mind, I have some questions.”

A/N: AAAA THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR THE LIKES AND FOLLOWS FROM THE LAST POST🫶🫶🫶 You don’t know how much it means to me knowing that even just 50 people liked this new idea I’m exploring and I am so very grateful 🙏 .