#how did this happen i was supposed to be the third person. the back up back up. AND NOW BY MYSELF?????

[lisxdumbr]

The whole "if a person is mad at you it's their responsibility to tell you" thing just made me realize how fucked my situation is. Like just. woah

[violaeadde]

cried a little at work today bc my boss (who i love) put in her two weeks like i’m genuinely gonna throw upppppppp like don't leave me here ALONE

[bluelockmaniac]

𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑'𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐙𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒

୨ৎ ft. itoshi sae x actress!reader (fem)

synopsis. when football star itoshi sae randomly names you as his celebrity crush, the internet goes wild with rumours. what happens when you decide to make a surprise appearance during his next interview?

notes. thanks anon for the suggestion ! the editing process took quite a while bc i had to search for so many synonyms and celebrity-dazzling-type of vocabulary, and just a bit of research & idioms, lol (like tell me why i didn't know what filmography was??).

word count. 1.7k

𝐓𝐇𝐄 first thing that grated on sae’s nerves was the endless string of interviews he had to endure after every victory. the second were the interviewers, who seemed to lack any sense of boundaries or respect of privacy all together. but the third and perhaps most exasperating thing sae loathed were the questions– particularly those who left him completely clueless.

how on earth was he supposed to provide this nosy interviewer with the name of his celebrity crush when he didn't even have one?

besides, sae’s social awareness was practically nonexistent. his mind was consumed by football– matches, practice sessions, training drills, and occasionally, thoughts of his brother. naming a celebrity was as foreign to him as the idea of reconciling with rin.

he had tried to dodge the infuriating question, really. but his attempt was thwarted by the exaggerated glare of his manager, whose expression screamed ‘make. up. any. name’.

the older itoshi sighed, eyeing the lady who had posed the stupid, intrusive question from the side. to the untrained eye, it might have appeared that he was merely stalling, which, in truth, he sort of was. but on the inside, he was actually scrambling to conjure up any random name.

then, as if the goddess of luck intervened, a blurry image of you materialized in his mind. he recalled catching a glimpse of you while riding in his personal chauffeur-driven car.

your recognizable face had adorned a massive, wide billboard advertisement. you looked too striking– too gorgeous– to forget. you were holding a rose perfume bottle next to your shoulder, smiling with such infectious brightness. luckily, his eyes had happened to drift to the bottom left corner, where your name was elegantly inscribed in cursive.

y/n l/n.

anyone familiar with the entertainment industry would no doubt recognize your name immediately. you were a standout actress in hollywood, notably known for your phenomenal acting skills and breathtaking beauty. your filmography– the number of movies you've starred in– was extensive, and your trophy shelf in your large mansion was filled to the brim with numerous awards.

“itoshi-san?” the interviewer prompted again, her pesky voice cutting through his trance as she set her coffee mug on the table. she repeated her question, “there's nothing to be embarrassed about, haha– we’ve all had celebrity crushes at some point. who’s yours?”

sae scoffed lightly, leaning back onto the couch and propping his elbow on the armrest. he hid his face behind his hand, attempting to mask his discomfort.

“y/n.” he muttered, his voice laced with forced nonchalance.

the words slipped from his lips with shame. he knew this embarrassing revelation would literally dominate the headlines by nightfall, and he could hardly brace himself. he actually felt a teeny bit of guilt for dragging you into the main focus of the public’s attention alongside him. by tomorrow morning, his phone would be buzzing with notifications about this becoming the top trending topic on social media.

heck, he could already envision the misleading headlines in the tabloids:

alleged hidden affair: football prodigy itoshi sae and actress y/n l/n rumored to be in secret relationship– what’s really going on?

the interviewer let out an exaggerated gasp, her hands flying to her mouth as she exchanged a gleeful look with the cameraman.

“d-did you get that on tape? this will certainly make the headlines!”

she turned back to sae, who was still averting his gaze awkwardly. “j-just to be sure, itoshi-san… you’re talking about y/n l/n, correct?”

sae mumbled something inaudible under his breath before finally meeting her eyes, realizing it’s better to save face than to prolong his embarrassment live on camera.

“yes, her,” he replied with a shrug, rolling his eyes. he seriously had no idea who you were, what you did, or why you were famous. “she's cute, i guess.”

the interviewer beamed, leaning in enthusiastically. “—absolutely, her beauty is nothing short of enchanting! which of her shows or movies did you enjoy the most?”

so you were an actress, he thought, narrowing his eyes at the woman. he had absolutely no clue about any of your work. resorting to his typical bluntness, he retorted,

“none of your business. shut up.” he turned his head towards his manager, who looked as if he was about to cry literal tears of joy. “this interview is over. let's go.”

a few weeks had passed, and just as sae had predicted, rumours of a secret affair between him and you had exploded across the internet. yet, they remained just that– rumours. neither of you had addressed them… perhaps because there was no need to.

sae had just secured another effortless victory and was now being chauffeured to the interview venue. as he passed the familiar billboard, his eyes wandered, searching for your eyes, only to find that your advertisement had been replaced by some no-name, cheap milk brand’s.

—

as usual, he handled the post-match questions with ease. they were always the same, tedious inquiries: “how do you feel about your performance today?”, “could you describe the pivotal moments in today's match?”, “how did teamwork play a role in the game?”, “one fan asked…”, and so on.

however, this time, the midfielder felt slightly uneasy— the camera crew seemed larger, with cameras on every angle of the room. the interviewer, the same lady from before, appeared unusually excited. her voice was squeaker and she fiddled faintly as she spoke.

finally, she asked the final question regarding the opposition team’s strategies and approaches.

“hmph. we barely broke a sweat today; their game plan was so weak and predictable it was almost laughable. we could have won with our eyes closed.”

she nodded, almost dismissively, as if she couldn’t wait to wrap up the interview and get to the next part of the show.

“incredible, exactly what we’d expect from japan’s prodigious player! now, for all our online viewers, get ready to tune into GoalTalk’s special event! tonight, we're thrilled to welcome a very special guest who will be joining us…”

sae quirked an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued as he watched the crew reposition the numerous cameras to focus on the entrance door, though a few lenses remained trained on him.

“... y/n l/n!”

you stepped onto the platform as soon as your name was announced, waving to the countless cameras flashing blinding lights in your direction. you were dressed in a long, flowing burgundy gown that accentuated your curves perfectly. you exuded elegance; the very epitome of grace.

sae's eyes widened in surprise, tracking your movements as you made your way to the seat beside him.

“fucking bullshit, you’ve got to be kidding me…” he groaned, throwing his head back against the couch’s backrest, his adam’s apple bobbing. 

you let out a soft giggle, settling beside him so that your thighs brushed against his. with a gentle tap on his shoulder, you flashed a practiced smile as he turned to look at you. 

“it’s such an honour to finally meet you, itoshi! i’m actually a huge fan, so you could imagine my excitement when you mentioned i was your celebrity crush in your recent interview.”

he cringed inwardly, having heard similar compliments from noisy fangirls countless times before. besides, you were a renowned actress; for all he knew, your cheerful expressions and excitement could be part of a well-rehearsed facade.

“ah. thanks, i guess,” he shrugged, clicking his tongue before adding nonchalantly, “...you’re a good actress.”

“oh, thank you! i appreciate it.” you leaned in slightly, your smile widening, “hey, you know, i wouldn't mind giving you my number. we could maybe… figure things out?~”

“what–” his leg began to bounce subtly. perhaps it was the effect of being an actress who had participated in a multitude of romance movies and shows– such flirtatious comments tend to slip naturally from your lips.

“you wouldn’t mind, would you? you’re single, right?” you pressed, propping your chin on his shoulder. 

fuck. your face was so close– so close he could understand why people called you stunning. you were infinitely more beautiful than the artificial, edited image on the billboard. your sweet scent of exotic fruit, reminiscent of a hot summer day on the beach, wafted to his nose. his eyes wandered to your cherry-stained, glossed lips, feeling a strange, inexplicable magnetic pull.

but he sighed defeatedly, feeling his manager’s intense yet pleased gaze boring into him. “i guess. don’t expect anything, though,” he dismissed, reaching up to ruffle his reddish hair. everything was alright. he just needed to get through this interview.

little did either of you know– or perhaps you had a vague idea– that social media was already ablaze with an endless amount of comments from hundreds of thousands of fans from both sides, shipping you two together.

you nudged him playfully with your elbow and turned your head, winking at the cameras as you slyly slipped your hand into his. “i’m getting his number, sorry girls.”

he felt his breath catch in his throat, his fingers remaining numb in your grasp. but suddenly, a strange surge of boldness overwhelmed his usually rational senses– he was already doomed, anyway, so why seem like a lame pushover? his hand reciprocated your grip, intertwining his fingers with yours as he leaned in slightly. his lips brushed over your ear as he whispered a few, short words, eyeing one camera directly with a subtle smirk.

you felt your cheeks bloom with warmth at his words. all the cameras in the venue captured the sight of your eyes widening in surprise and the visceral nodding of your head to whatever he had just said.

his words would remain a secret to the public however, even as the internet flooded with speculations and questions, triggered by a sensational headline featuring a photo of the two of you together:

𝑯𝑶𝑻 𝑵𝑬𝑾 𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹? 𝑱𝑨𝑷𝑨𝑵’𝑺 𝑭𝑶𝑶𝑻𝑩𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹 𝑰𝑻𝑶𝑺𝑯𝑰 𝑺𝑨𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑺 𝒀/𝑵 𝑳/𝑵 𝑺𝑷𝑶𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑳 𝑻𝑶𝑮𝑬𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹, 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑰𝑵 𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑫!

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[januaryembrs]

hot chocolate!!!

what about bau!reader who’s super affectionate with spencer (and he just takes it with a blush and sugary coffee)

example; jawline kisses that are supposed to be cheek kisses instead of hello’s and goodbye’s & reader having her arm around spencer’s waist at all times cuz she’s just so used to his body warmth!!!

(for some reason i’m imagining s9 reid & new-ish reader but u can do what u want ofc!!)

FUGITIVE AFFECTIONS | Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

description: fugitive (noun) meaning escape, runaway. (adjective) meaning fleeting, brief, passing.

Length: 1.1k

warnings: fluff fluff FLUFF.

He knew what was coming the second he heard her footsteps. The coffee machine spluttered with effort as it churned out his third cup of the day, and he was already perched with the sugar waiting for the appliance to do its thing. Spencer barely had chance to acknowledge the approaching figure when he felt arms wrap around his waist, someone attaching themselves to his back with a feather light kiss to his spine. 

“Good morning,” He called over his shoulder, and you hummed, quickly squeezing the soft pooch of his stomach and releasing him. 

“Morning,” You said, and he leaned up to open the cupboard door, which wasn’t a big feat for him with his heinously long limbs. Plopping a mug down on the side, he poured coffee in your cup first before he started on his own, “Reports due today?” 

“Hotch wants the Minnesota and the Nevada cases wrapped up,” He said, sliding the milk and sugar over to your side of the counter and keeping his head down. Spencer felt his ears run hot, like they usually did whenever you got so close to him, which just happened to be always. 

He doubted the words ‘personal space’ were ever a thing in your vocabulary. It had started with Garcia, with the two of you linking arms and braiding each other's hair after two weeks of you moving to the BAU, and he’d figured that Garcia had won you over with that natural, bubbly charm of hers. But Spencer was perceptive, and he’d quickly realised the behaviour was not strictly limited to Penelope and her chirpy attitude. You tended to walk close to everyone, like you were trying to mesh you bodies in with them and the shoulder bumps and hands brushed against one another didn’t matter. In the end, rather than push you away, Morgan had taken to wrapping an arm around your shoulder as the two of you waltzed around the office together. Even Blake was succumbing to your touchy-feely attitude as you liked to cosy up next to her on the jet, usually falling asleep with your head on her shoulder, and she thought little of it now, just continuing with her crosswords unbothered. 

And then you’d set your sights on Spencer. 

He supposed you hadn’t quite got the memo about his germaphobia, or perhaps the transference of bacteria between humans during simple hand holding just never occurred to you. Yet after just a month of being desk buddies with him, he nearly jumped out of his skin the day you slipped your fingers in between his when the two of you had been paired up on a case and you were heading down the witness’s driveway to interview them. 

He’s been about to ask what the hell you were doing, or perhaps scramble to shove you off, and sanitise his hands with the emergency gel he kept in his bag at all times. But by the time he’d looked over at you, his cheeks a flaming strawberry colour with what he’d thought of as annoyance, you were simply smiling at him, and began swinging your joined hands back and forth, nudging your temple into his shoulder affectionately. 

“You look really pretty in that purple shirt, Spencer,” You said simply, and whatever scathing remark about how eighty percent of pathogens are transferred during hand holding was robbed from his gullet and he was stunned into silence. The way you’d said his name alone made his lips part in wonder, because he’d never heard it said like that. 

“T-thankyou, I like your jacket.” He cringed as soon a he said it, and the two of you looked down to your government issued FBI vest, the same one he wore, the same one Hotch wore, the same one they’d all worn for the past nine years. 

You sniggered, bumping him again with your forehead like you were a cat purring up against him, marking your territory. 

“You’re cute,”

You were full of sweet, loving words like that he realised, all buttercups and candy floss and honey and sweetie and my love and he felt himself expecting it now, biting his lip in worry if you were ever just the tiniest bit too busy to fluff him up with affection.

Like when you’d been called out by Blake on an emergency, the two of you scrambling to grab the SUV keys to go meet Morgan and JJ where they were moving into the building  after the suspect. 

The two of you had all but ran out of the precinct in the effort to catch up with the other agents, leaving Spencer, pen still in his hand as he mapped out the geographical profile, and he hadn’t realised anything was missing until he heard the door slam shut and he hadn’t felt the warmth of your hug, your hand in his hair ruffling it lovingly, not even a ‘goodbye, sweetie!’

Spencer pouted, despite the fact he’d spent the first few weeks wondering if he should be shying away from your touch because he was quickly running out of sanitizer and had yet to want you to stop. He felt like his routine had been interrupted, because that’s definitely what the source of his disappointment was, not the fact he wondered if he had done something wrong, and yet before he could think too hard about it, the door swung back open, Blake yelling something from the hallway that he could just about make out was your name, before a body crashed into his side and your lips were on his jaw, kissing him lightly through laboured breaths. 

“Bye, Spence.” You murmured, kissing up his cheek a few times to apologise for the wait, and he hadn’t even had the chance to return the favour through the fish out of water gape as he watched you run back to the door, Blake looking at you incredulously. 

“I just watched you run up three flights of stairs for that?” She asked, the door slowly closing behind you and giving him unfiltered snooping on your conversation. He smiled so wide his cheeks hurt, the same one that you had just kissed over and over again like it was a normal thing for you two, and he wondered if he could coordinate you rushing out of the office every time if it meant he’d have that again. 

“It’s Spencer, it was important,” You insisted, and he squoze his hands so tightly his nails dug into his palm, because it was too late to tell you just how much you’d made him feel in such a tiny gesture, and the electricity from your kisses had to come out somewhere. If not, Spencer worried he might explode. 

His hand sanitizer sat empty in his pocket, the same way it had been for months, and Spencer couldn’t care less.

[ariaxmu]

cancellations

summary: theo keeps cancelling your dates, and you think it's because he isn't interested anymore. however..

warning: anxious!theo, theo has a mini panic attack, reader helps calm him down.

a month. that is how long it's been. an entire month.

a month ago, theo and i both desperately, and drunkenly, confessed our feelings for each other, after months of pining and flirting. it was truly the best night of my life. he asked me on a date, it was all planned perfectly, but it never happened.

he cancelled the first one, saying he was sick and couldn't make it. i saw him the following morning with his friends, looking perfectly fine, but i thought maybe he just took some potions and was feeling better. he apologized profusely, and we rescheduled. so i did not see this as a red flag, but now i'm not so sure.

the second time, the week after, he cancelled again. blamed it on the boys had thrown some impromptu party for blaise as his birthday was a couple of days after and they didn't realize. so i told him it was okay, we could reschedule, and that was that. he didn't even invite me to the party. and then, reluctantly we rescheduled again.

then he started ignoring me more around the school, and in classes. it's like he was avoiding me like the plague. everyday, i just prayed he would come up to me, apologize for everything and make time for me. but that day never came.

which leads us up to today. our date was supposed to be tonight, but as i stare down at the letter in my hands with watery eyes, i'm let down... again. i glance over at the slytherin table, i notice him almost hiding from me as his friends look over apologetically.

''hi, need to reschedule again. something came up - t.n <3''

i feel frustration bubble up in my chest as i read the pathetic note. i'm not one to usually get angry, but this is beyond hurtful and embarrassing. i'm tired of defending him to my friends, i'm tired of having my hopes crushed. i'm just tired.

i wipe a stray tear from my eye as my friends look at me, sympathetically. i sniffle, why can't i just be the girl someone chooses for once.

i grab my quill, quickly writing a response to his note, scoffing because he couldn't even tell me in person.

''don't reschedule this time. tired of being let down. thanks for wasting my time. - y/n.''

i stand up, hot tears still in my eyes as i walk over to the slytherin table, theo's eyes widening and cheeks bright red as i walk over. i put the note down in front of him, angrily, before walking away and out of the great hall. the dam breaks as i sob into my hands, rushing back to my dorm room to hide.

--third person--

theo quickly grabs the note, his heart and stomach dropping as he reads the words. ''shit... shit!'' he exclaimed, worriedly rubbing a hand over his face. he throws the note to his friends, as they all read it and cringe.

''damn.. you really messed this up, huh?'' mattheo mumbles out.

''yeah no shit'' theo groans.

''man you should have just told her from the start, she is kind, she would have understood'' draco says, patting theo's back.

''and what would i say? oh hi love of my life, i'm going to cancel on every one of our dates because i'm too anxious and shy?'' he scoffs.

''not exactly, but essentially yeah. she would've helped you'' draco says with a soft sigh.

''what am i supposed to do now? i can't lose her, you all know how i feel about her'' theo sighs.

''you need to explain to her why you cancelled so many times. just be honest, tell her you have anxiety and this stuff makes you freak out.'' enzo says, ''if you don't you're going to lose her.''

''what if it's too late?'' theo gulps.

''go there now. only one way to find out'' mattheo nods. theo takes a deep breath in, standing up and rushing out of the great hall. his hands shaking, palms sweating as he tried to keep himself calm.

this is what happens every time he is near y/n. he stumbles on his words, feels light headed, sweats and shakes. it's not something he has truly ever experienced before, having feelings this strong for someone. but he knows it's something he can't let his anxiety get in the way of.

--back to normal--

i cry into my pillow, feeling utterly humiliated. i have never liked someone as much as i like him, and i thought he felt the same. but clearly not.

my head snaps up as i hear a knock on my door, and i quickly hop up thinking it would be one of my friends coming to comfort me. i wipe my eyes, opening the door, heart dropping when i see theo there.

''h-hi'' he stutters out. he looks flushed, breathing ragged as he stands there.

''hi..'' i sniffle. ''what do you want?''

''i came here to uh, explain myself. can i c-come in?'' he gulped.

i nod once, feeling defeated. he walks in, sitting on the end of my bed. ''sit with me'' he takes in a deep breath.

''look, if you're just here to tell me that you don't like me anymore, or that you found someone else then just leave. i don't need to hear it'' i say, tears welling up in my eyes again just at the thought.

''n-no! it's neither of those things. my feelings for you haven't changed from the moment i met you'' he says, a little on edge but softly.

''then what is it?'' i say, confused as i sit beside him.

he shakes his head for a moment, his face going more red, breathing sounding shaky and irregular, body shaking slightly. i furrow my brows, becoming a little worred.

''are you okay? theo?'' i say, grabbing one of his hands with mine gently.

''i-i just get like this sometimes, no big deal'' he gulps, barely getting his words out through his fast breathing.

''no big deal? theo i think you're having a panic attack'' i say, standing up so i can kneel in front of him, grabbing both of his hands in mine.

''i-i can't breathe'' he choked out, breathing getting faster by the minute.

''you need to take slower breaths, theo. look at me, breathe with me'' i say as gently and as calm as i could.

''n-no i can't'' he coughs, only making the breathing worse. i look into his eyes, noticing them watering with tears, one trickling down his red cheek. hair sticking to his forehead, i am frantic as i try to think of something to help because the breathing exercises aren't.

i furrow my eyebrows, thinking of anyway i can stall his breathing without making him worse. then i get an idea.

''forgive me for this, theo, just trust me'' i say softly, before i lean up and press my lips onto his. his eyes widen for a moment, my kiss stopping his frantic breathing as he looks at me extremely shocked.

and after a moment, i feel him breathing softly through his nose, watching his eyes flutter and close, and he kisses me back. i keep my hands locked with his as we kiss, the shaking stopping as they grip mine.

and after a while, he pulls back, taking one deep breath in, and out. he locks eyes with me as i look at him with rosy cheeks.

''are you feeling okay?'' i say softly.

''yeah... thankyou'' he gulps. ''how'd you do that?'' he breathes out.

''well.. i know to help a panic attack you need to slow the breathing so um.. when i kissed you, it slowed it down'' i say, nervously.

''woah. like magic..'' he says, nodding his head as his body finally relaxes.

''this is why i have been cancelling on you. because- i have been terrified that if we go somewhere or- if i'm just with you then i'll get like this, and i didn't want to embarrass you or make you like me less..'' he explains.

''theo.. that would never happen. i've been crazy about you for ages now, your anxiety will never change that. a-and if we went somewhere and you felt this way then i'd take you somewhere quiet and try to help you. you know that'' i whisper, moving his hair from his forehead. ''i just want to be with you, is all. i want to be the person you do come to about these things'' i explain softly.

he nods his head, smiling softly. 'i'm so sorry about the past month, it's been tough. i want to make it up to you'' he says, pulling me back up to sit beside him. ''i was so anxious but- now i'm here with you i have no idea why i was...'' he mumbles, pressing his lips onto mine for a split second, a gently peck ghosting my lips.

''date is back on for tonight. i'll meet you by the great hall at 7, okay?'' he says, smiling at me as my face lights up. i nod quickly.

''and if you feel anxious before then, come here and i can use my magic powers again'' i giggle, as he walks towards the door.

''even if i don't i will still be coming back here for that'' he winks as he leaves the room.

[buckyalpine]

Did You Hear

Fluffyy crack fic and nothing else. Imagine Tony Stark's shy new assistant sitting at the kitchen island for breakfast, getting a cup of tea before heading to the lab. She's sipping from her steaming mug when a very pretty super solider walks in from his run and the heat rising in her cheeks isn't from the hot Earl Grey.

"Mornin' y/n" He gives you a polite smile while he makes his way to the fridge and you had to silence the squeak that nearly escapes your lips. He's in a pair of snug grey sweats which are resting sinfully low on his hips and his tight black t-shit showing off every divot and curve of muscle on his torso. You bite you lip as he bends down to grab a cold bottle of water, silencing a squeal with a sip of tea.

"Morning, Sergeant" You give him a smile and the lopsided grin he gives you as he goes on about his day leaves you giggling and kicking your feet. You were just about finished your cup when Nat walked in next, looking you up and down with a shake of her head.

"Bucky was here, wasn't he" She playfully rolled her eyes knowing the effect the brunette had on you. "What happened this time"

"Bucky has a cute butt" You giggled, while Nat snorted at your flustered state. "And slutty thighs"

"Do you ever plan on actually telling him"

"No!" You vigorously shook your head. That was out of the question for you; you were happy to admire the soldier from afar. The last thing he'd want is to have to deal with is the playground crush you had on him anyway, it was a miracle he even noticed you. "He doesn't even see me that way"

"Well, guess we'll never know" She sassed as you slipped off the stool to make your way to the lab.

"I'm happy to admire God's work from a safe distance!" You called over your shoulder while Nat shook her head, smirking to a third person you didn't see who was lingering near the kitchen, very happy to listen intently to the conversation that was taking place.

The one that was supposed to be a secret from Bucky's ears.

That wouldn't do.

-

"Did you hear?" Sam grinned, sauntering over where Bucky was sparring with Steve, both men panting after already going for a few rounds. "Word on the street is you have a cute butt"

"What" Bucky deadpanned while Steve smirked, watching the heat in his friends cheeks already starting to creep up to his ears.

"Mhm, that little tush of yours has been getting a lot of attention lately"

"From who" Bucky's face scrunched up in confusion, frowning when Sam cackled, clapping his shoulder.

"Tony's cute lil assistant" He says with a wink, noting the immediate change in Bucky's demeanor, his frown falling off his face, replaced with a very pink blush.

"You mean y/n?"

"Uh huh. Must've been those slutty grey sweats you've been running around in"

"Slutty?"

"Extremely. Especially with those thighs"

"And how do you know this" Bucky struggled to bite back a smile, not wanting to get his hopes up until he was sure. "There's no way she-

"Heard her talking to Nat this morning. She sounded real excited after seeing you and your cute butt" Sam gave him a swat causing him to yelp.

"Hm. Interesting" The soldier nodded already looking towards the showers so he could rinse off and find you.

"Yeah, yeah, go find your girl" Steve shoved Bucky off the mat with a grin. Bucky jogged off to the lab right after a shower, purposely throwing on a new pair of his snug joggers. He smirked as he walked in seeing you fully focused on a small creation Tony created, tinkering away without noticing him.

"Hey doll"

"Ser-sergeant!" You squeaked in surprise as he strode inside, dropping the gadget you were working on, "What can I help you with"

"Sam told me something earlier", Bucky shrugged casually while you stayed frozen in your seat, your heart rate picking up the closer he got. "Was wonderin' if you knew anything about it"

"What's-what's that" You fidgeted nervously, his baby blues staring at you intently, loving how flustered you looked.

"Someone said something about me having a cute butt"

"Oh" You looked like deer in headlights, wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

"Oh?" Bucky smirked while you hid your face in your hands, ready to sink to the floor and hide under the table, he must have thought you were such a pervert. "And something about slutty thighs-

"Not just your butt! All-all of you is cute all over" You squeaked out before slapping a hand over your mouth realizing you were making it worse.

"All of me, huh" Bucky pried your hand away from your face, cupping your cheek instead, the cool metal of his arm soothing your hot skin. "So you do think I have a cute butt and slutty thighs"

His thumb came up to pull your bottom lip away from where it was caught between your teeth, smiling at the little nod you gave him, too scared to open your mouth.

"Well I'm glad"

"Y-you are?" You shyly whispered, nearly whining when he brought his other hand to hold your face gently, his lips brushing against yours.

"Mhm, means I can do this" You went limp in his hold, every muscle in your body turning into mush as he kissed your lips sweetly, the gentle peck feeling like he'd stolen your breath away. "Don't faint on me sweets" Bucky chuckled as he pulled away, seeing the dazed look on your face.

"Such a cute butt" You whispered to yourself, eyes growing wide when you realized you said that out loud. You buried yourself in his chest making Bucky grin, kissing the top of your head.

"Want to grab coffee with my cute butt?" Bucky tipped your chin up to look at him, "I'll even bring my slutty thighs" He threw in with a wink.

"Promise?" You giggled while he slipped in his hand in yours, leading you towards the door.

"Scouts honor, doll"

[wannaeatramyeon]

Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 1

Part 2! G/N. 3.2k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists

"How old are you?"

"20."

Press X for doubt, you think, and that's the exact meme you send over on chat.

"20 like 20 or 20 like you're mid 30s and planning your mid life crisis 20?"

You know you're being rude and making a terrible first impression. It's the first day of a new school year, of a new school in fact, and for some reason the class is held on video call and you're all forced to pair off with a classmate for an icebreaker introduction.

It’s already cringe worthy and awkward enough, icebreakers must have been created as a form of torture. To add insult to injury, you're sure this guy is bullshitting you.

"I'm 20." He deadpans.

Momentarily, you’re stunned into silence. It stretches almost a tad too long before you manage to choke out, “My bad. Sorry."

Wow. You're torn between thinking that's a rough 20, this guy has easily got 40 years under his belt and oh no, when is your puberty and hormones gonna kick in like that.

And that's also the exact moment this 20 year old Gun Park takes a drag on a cigarette and you decide that it's definitely a rough 20.

"So what do you do for fun?" You probe, and you have the distinct feeling he might say something like alimony, planning his third marriage, investing in the stock market - whatever someone in their 50s might say but-

To your surprise and glee, his body language turns shifty. 

He likes to game he says, like it's a dirty little secret. Amongst other things. Mentions something about training and martial arts and you fight to keep a straight face as it turns out you were also right about investing in shares and the stock market.

Gaming, however, is what you latch on to.

"Cute. I bet I could kick your ass."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes."

And this is how you ended up at 4am on a school night, playing Tekken with your new classmate and getting your ass kicked.

"One more!" You screech down the mic, after the KO sign appears on screen, mumbling something about cheating and how if you can time this combo just right-

There's a huff of laughter coming through your tinny headphones and an amused "Fine."

.

.

Dark circles under your eyes grow. It's been a week of straight losses.

You blame the sleep deprivation on Gun Park, though really you have your own stubbornness to blame.

He never tends to say much during the gaming sessions apart from the odd expletive and you rant enough after each of your defeats for the both of you.

Sometimes this will earn you a chuckle and he will snidely add that you asked for this, you were the one who was supposed to kick his ass. This would piss you off enough for another game or three in the hopes of defeating him and getting to gloat.

Which unfortunately has not happened yet.

With a sigh, you hope your camera quality this morning is bad enough and pixelated enough that your poor sleep habits don't show.

You scan over your classmates, the few that have their camera turned on and find him.

Gun looks completely fine. He looks completely fine in what must be 4k and ugh, you scrunch your nose up in annoyance.

You keep an eye on him through the class. Observe how he's usually paying rapt attention, scribbling and typing up notes every now and then.

It's impressive how studious he is.

In comparison, you're daydreaming. Thinking about lunch, other combos or characters to play to counter his own when you catch on to the back end of a sentence as your teacher mentions ‘this’ is something to pay attention to as it will be on the pop quiz.

Huh? You blink a couple times. What is ‘this’? Unfortunately she swiftly moves onto another topic.

You type out a direct message to the only person you know.

You: I missed that, what did she just say?

Gun: You should have been paying attention.

You: Fuck you man!

You see his eyes dip to the bottom of the camera screen, briefly moving as he presumably reads your message.

He smirks.

That night he kicks your ass again.

Then as consolation, reveals what will be on the pop quiz.

.

.

If Gun looked like that in 4k, nothing could prepare you for how he looked in real life.

You're setting up your laptop and notepad in the classroom, the first actual in-person session, when someone takes a seat next to you.

Initially you feel a surge of irritation that they could have sat anywhere else and chose to sit next to you, then you look at the offender and-

Hold on.

You double, triple-take-

Is that?

It must be.

Shit.

It's fucking Gun Park.

You don't entirely regret your initial comments on his looks because this guy definitely does not look 20 but goddamn he looks-

He chooses that moment, when your jaw is on the floor, to turn to you and give you a nod of acknowledgement.

"Y/N."

"H-hi." You manage, and even to your ears it sounds like a simpering fool.

He must have thought so too if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.

The cherry on top is that you expected this guy to smell like stale smoke, instead all you get is fresh laundry and something faintly dark and heady like leather and cedarwood.

Fuck.

Control yourself, a disapproving voice in your head says. Even that sounds vaguely like Gun.

It does nothing to stop your wandering gaze, peering at him in your periphery when you think he's not looking.

After you have taken your chance to not so discreetly run your eyes up and down his form, the only thing that makes you feel better is his hair. Because yeah he might be hot, but holy shit that must be a gallon of hair gel in there.

.

.

The other thing, as it turns out, that makes you feel a lot better is that he doodles.

It’s utterly charming.

Someone like Gun Park doesn't look like he doodles, but in between lines of his chicken scratch (seriously, who can even read that), there's little stick figures.

Maybe all the time you thought he was being studious he was just drawing-

Wait. You squint at the picture.

Is this guy for real?

"Are they fucking?" You whisper, using your pen to point at the page.

He doesn't answer straight away. There's a moment of surprise as he reacts like this is another secret of his he has unwittingly let you in on before his nostril flares and his eyes narrow and you grin in response.

Your grin grows when he grits out an answer. "No. Fighting."

He doesn't call you a dumbass but you can hear it loud and clear tacked on at the end.

"Whatever, pervert." You counter. You guess if you squint even harder then you suppose they could be fighting. Although the way one is lying on top of another is very suggestive. You don't hesitate to point that out to him.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

.

.

Even without a seating plan, one forms.

Places taken by chance on the first day becomes a regular arrangement.

You exchange a few words with your classmates, familiarise yourself somewhat with their names and faces. Pieces of their backstory, why they're here studying for a GED but take your spot next to Gun regardless.

No one really talks to him, you've heard them saying he's menacing and intimidating. Yet when your first encounter of him was mistaking him as someone about to hit mid life crisis, how intimidating can he really be.

Besides, he still doodles his lewd figures that he insists are not in any way shape or form comprising sexual positions. So no, you don't find him intimidating at all.

.

.

Gun, as you have come to know, is a man of few words. He is also unsurprisingly not great at literature.

What you don't yet know is he likes to say what he means and mean what he says. His patience only extends to The Art of War, so all the flowery prose and poetry only serves to irritate him.

If Gun glared at you the way he's currently glaring at the textbook, you think you may either burst into tears or burst into flames.

Luckily you do neither of those things but you do take pity on him. Leaning over, you ask him quietly if he needs help.

He doesn't respond but the pen he's clutching in his right hand snaps in half.

Alright then.

Half an hour later, when the class empties out you ask Gun to follow you to the library.

He hesitates, and you add "if you've got time" to give him an out. In the end he doesn't take it and trudges obediently after you.

You very quickly learn that he really doesn't like literature. You're explaining and working him through the analysis and also mildly offended at the bored look on his face.

"This is a waste of time," he interjects and there's a sullen undercurrent to his words.

"Just memorise the analysis then." Exasperation tinges your tone, "That's all you need to do to pass."

He arches a brow at your words.

"They're testing your memory. So just remember what our teacher says."

There's an angry air of resignation as Gun nods, and you slide your notes over for him to copy.

.

.

Not long after, you have your first minor evaluation on the literature material.

You notice during the test that while the vein in Gun’s temple is prominent and he’s clutching his (new) pen tighter, there’s barely any pause as he fills in the answers.

A few days later, the graded papers are handed back. There's a sigh of relief from Gun.

He gives you a smile, small and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corner.

"You owe me one," you tell him jokingly though he takes it to heart and gives you a stern nod.

.

.

Gun repays his debt, with a coffee.

He places the paper cup on the desk in front of you. Logo of the coffee house to the side but still visible. It's new, expensive, and there’s regular lines around the block.

Of course it would be from there.

The issue is, who repays a debt with an espresso. He didn’t even ask for your drink of choice!

"Thanks for this thimble of coffee," you remark as Gun sniffs in distaste at your comment, placing his own matching cup in front of him and saying something about how it's the best untainted way to drink it.

Of course he would also be a coffee snob.

You tell him you usually like it with a bit more cream and a lot more sugar and he mutters that you sound like Goo.

You think that's an insult.

"Well, at least Goo has good taste," you snipe back with a grin.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

.

.

You: Are you doodling or actually writing notes?

You: Cos on camera you look very studious but I’ve seen your notepad

Gun: None of your business

You: Still drawing your disgusting pornographic stick men then

Gun: They are not-

Gun: Whatever

.

.

You: Ok, maybe that espresso wasn’t terrible

Gun: I know

You: Who’s Goo anyway?

Gun: …

Gun: No-one

You: Suuuure

.

.

You: Tekken tonight?

Gun: Aren’t you tired of getting your ass kicked?

You: >:(

.

.

You: Do you wanna go over the new lit material in the library this week?

Gun: Ok

.

.

Gun: Thanks for your help

You: :) 

.

.

Gun: You’re tired. You should game less.

You: Spoken like a coward!

Gun: Dumbass

You: Hey!!

.

.

Gun: I’ll bring you an espresso tomorrow. You need it.

You: Does it have to be an espresso?

Gun: Yes

You: …Thanks

.

.

To anyone else, the figure standing in the doorway is just smoking. To you, it suspiciously looks like they’re waiting.

It's not a crime. Gun Park can wait for whatever or whoever he wants.

What really throws you off is his smoking. You've seen him casually take one single drag before throwing the whole cigarette away. Even to you, it seems like a waste.

However, this time he smokes one all the way to the filter before stubbing it out. Then does the same to a second, and third.

Strange, very strange.

You approach him. Taking gentle steps, in case he might get spooked and bolt which is really a ridiculous notion for someone like him. Nevertheless, you keep your footsteps light, yourself clearly in view and you wander over to him.

"Hey," you say, with a somewhat forced smile. He doesn't acknowledge your greeting apart from a brief nod.

"... Everything ok?"

It's a perfectly normal question to ask but a vastly bizarre one for Gun. He doesn't look like the type of person where people casually enquire about his well being.

He must have thought so too if the look he gives you is anything to go by.

In response, he stubs out his cigarette (his fourth!) then asks, stilted and stiffly, if you want to come back to his for a game of Tekken.

At least that's what you interpret as he seems to be crazy cryptic.

"Are you interested in Tekken?"

"...Yes." You wonder what on earth this question is because did you hallucinate all those games you played together?

"Then meet me. After class." 

"Where? Here?"

"No. At mine."

"Where's that?"

"..."

He gives you another look, as if you're the one trying to coax a secret out of him despite him offering.

Gun dips forward, murmurs quietly into your ear his address and some vague directions like it's highly confidential information.

You nod along, thinking what is with this guy. 

.

.

So firstly, what the fuck.

Then secondly, what the fuck.

Don't think you hadn't noticed the designer brands Gun wears. If they're fakes, they're very convincing fakes. But you're almost certain they have got to be counterfeit when he brought you over to a junkyard claiming this is where he lives.

You've seen films like this. Granted, it's less in a junkyard and more in the middle of nowhere in America where college kids meet their gruesome ends in fantastical ways.

You never thought this would happen to you. You have sorely miscalculated. 

Is this Gun Park (if that even is his real name) going to butcher you and leave your body on top of a pile of scrap metal in the corner?

Instead of a night of gaming where you’re the one KO-ing him, he’s actually the one that’s going to chase you around wearing a mask and wielding a knife or axe?

"You’re here. Come in," Gun says, opening his front door just as your inner monologue begins to truly spiral out of control and you're considering doing a runner.

"Eh?" You grunt like an idiot, not noticing when the shack appeared nor when you stepped onto his porch, or the side eyes Gun had been giving you.

He gives you another look, likely regretting inviting you at all, and leaves the door ajar for you to either enter or turn back and go home.

.

.

"This is... nice," you lie, through the skin of your teeth.

Gun sees cleanly through your white lie and exhales a huff of amusement.

It's sparse. Peeks of luxury here and there - the extensive PC gaming rig, the entertainment system and consoles, to name a few.

Apart from that, it's barely a home.

"Take a seat." He offers, and it sounds more like an order. Obediently you sit on his sofa, feeling very much a guest.

"You're not in danger," he says, bemused at how awkward you are in his domain, how tense you hold yourself.

'That's exactly what a killer would say,' you think and when you hear a low chuckle, you realise that you said it aloud.

"Don't worry," Gun reassures and it doesn’t really help before he strides off to somewhere in his house and leaves you sitting alone.

He returns back minutes later as you’re in the middle of admiring his entertainment set up and going through his vinyl collection (because obviously someone like Gun has vinyls) with a coffee for you that looks much more milky and to your taste than the usual ones he offers. 

“Thanks.” you take your drink and return back to your seat.

Taking the first sip, you finally manage to relax. Sinking into a sofa that is much more comfortable than at first glance and you take in your surroundings a bit more.

Sort of. You actually take in Gun Park more. 

He’s casual, in a way you have never seen or even considered. Dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, hair floppy and the only styling is done with his hands running through his hair now and then to keep it back.

Even during the online classes, he is usually dressed up in an open collared shirt.

If you thought he was hot before, it’s nothing compared to now. There’s an air of domesticity, the drink he made for you cradled in your hands, and the distinct feeling that not many people have had the luxury to see Gun in his natural habitat, so intimate and vulnerable.

You wonder if this is how he looks all those nights you’ve been gaming together.

You catch his eyes, having been caught checking him out and he raises his eyebrows at your blatant staring. 

Blood rushes to your cheeks as he chuckles into his own espresso and takes a sip.

.

.

"Holy shit, I won!"

You're familiar with the KO screen. What you're not familiar with is being on the side of victory. You're usually a hair trigger away from rage quitting, from throwing a tantrum down the mic.

Finally. All your hard work has paid off. Time spent thinking of combos, attacks and defences (which would have been better spent studying) is coming to fruition.

You peer over to Gun, expect the controller he is clutching to maybe have been crushed into pieces with his freakish strength. Expected nothing except for a vein throbbing on his temple.

What you do find is-

Gun looking at you, fondness in his eyes. He's taking in your grin, letting your gloating slide.

Doesn't do more than roll his eyes when you perform a victory dance of sorts around him.

And when you get in his face to tell him that you're the winner, you're the best-

(More words are on the tip of your tongue but your gaze drops to his lip, drawn to the small smile he wears.

It sinks in.

The patience he has, the attention he gives, the way he has opened his home to you.

From the very first meeting, the even-handed way he has dealt with your insults, entertained you to the early hours of the morning on Tekken.)

Gun reaches out, tugs your hand and pulls you into his lap and agrees.

"Yes. The best."

You think it's a lie, an embellishment.

But the way he holds you - tender and precious, and the way he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours - soft, like you might break - can't be anything else but the whole truth.

(Update! Part 2 here!)

[incognit0slut]

Better for you

Spencer spends the change of year with a new resolution as he starts looking at his rival differently.

(THIS CAN BE READ AS A STANDALONE BUT IS TECHNICALLY A THIRD PART FOR LOSE CONTROL AND THE LAST LAUGH)

words: 4.6k Category: fluff (surprisingly this is not my usual NSFW work) warnings: kissing, suggestive content a/n: I’m killing two birds with one stone here. One, I caved in and did another part for this rival couple. And two, I wrote this as a participation in @imagining-in-the-margins office party writing challenge🥳 Here are the prompts: 1. The team hardly believes it when Character A agrees to dance with B. 2. “I just never saw you as a... party type of person."

WAS A PARTY SUPPOSED TO BE THIS BORING? A subtle sigh escaped her lips as she glanced around the backyard. When Rossi invited the team to gather around at his house in celebration of the new year, everybody was on board.

"Who would say no to a David Rossi party?" JJ had said, which led her to bring her family along the occasion. Even Simmons brought his wife and five little kids. And now Rossi’s place never looked so alive with this many people, it seemed that everyone was present at this joyful soirée.

Everyone but one person, that is.

She turned her attention back to the drink in her hand, leaning against the open bar Rossi had set up, her mind drifting towards a certain man. It wasn't like she was keeping tabs on him. Really, she wasn't. It just happened that his absence became surprisingly noticeable when he decided to take some time off work to visit his mom, even days before Christmas break.

How long had it been since the last time she saw him? Two weeks? Three? It seemed like a considerable amount of time had passed since she saw was forced to work with him, which happened during the case in a remote town. And despite successfully apprehending the Unsub days later, her resistance to temptation, unfortunately, wasn't as successful.

It was hard not to think of what happened during the travel when it kept playing in her mind like a broken record. It was as if the memories were engraved in her brain—his slick, sweaty body pressing against hers; his soft lips caressing her skin; his large hands roaming her curves, traveling to places that had her hot and wet—

What the hell was wrong with her?

She took a sip of her drink—or more like chugging it down—trying to test if the burning sensation could wash away her filthy mind.

"Whoa," a sudden voice broke through her haze and she looked up to find Luke standing close to her. "Easy there."

His easygoing grin met her gaze as he gestured toward her almost empty glass. She shrugged, aiming the glass toward him in a mock toast. "Just trying to enjoy the party."

"Yeah?" He chuckled, leaning against the bar.

She shot him a sideways glance. "What's it to you, Alvez?"

His grin widened. "Well, when someone's drinking like they're on a mission, it catches my attention. Everything okay?"

She hesitated for a moment before responding, her tone calm. "I'm just getting into the party spirit, you know?"

Luke raised an eyebrow, his playful demeanor unwavering. "Is that so? Or are you trying to drown out some thoughts?"

She scoffed. "Thoughts? What thoughts?"

"The kind that makes you chug down your drink."

"You're imagining things. I'm simply enjoying this..." Her eyes scanned the party, trying to find a word describing the ongoing festive. "...ambiance."

"Alone by the table full of alcohol?"

"Well, someone's got to keep an eye on these drinks from disappearing too quickly."

"Hmm," He responded. "It kind of seems like you're waiting for someone to join the party."

Her cheeks warmed slightly, and she scoffed again. "I know who you're referring to, and no, I am not waiting for anyone."

He leaned in, the mischief in his eyes unwavering. "So, you're telling me that if Reid walked in right now, you wouldn't do a happy dance?"

"Please, there would be no happy dance," she said, rolling her eyes. "Just a casual acknowledgment, maybe."

"Casual acknowledgment? You're going with that?" His grin widened, his teasing persistence unyielding. "There's nothing casual about you two."

"If you mean hating each other's gut, then sure, there is nothing casual about Reid and me."

"He doesn't hate you, you know." She gave him a deadpanned look, her skepticism evident in her arched brow. Luke laughed. "Fine, he disliked the idea of having another prodigy on the team. When he got out of prison, he felt like you were his replacement."

She frowned. "I kind of was. Emily wanted someone to fill in for his absence while he was away."

Luke raised an eyebrow, his expression turning thoughtful. "True, but I think you're starting to grow on him." She shook her head, trying to brush off the comment. "I'm serious, I think you made an impression."

Her skepticism lingered as she fully turned towards him, pointing a finger at him. "So you’re telling me every time he tried to pick a fight he was actually impressed by my intelligence?"

"Well, Reid's got this... unique way of expressing himself, but trust me, he respects you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Now you're just pushing it."

"There's got to be something more than what you're letting on. He's not exactly subtle, you know."

She leaned back slightly, trying to maintain composure. "You're reading too much into it. Reid and I have..." a complicated dynamic between coworkers who hate each other but had sex twice—well, three, including that one time in the shower. "...a professional relationship," she decided to say.

His grin widened. "Professional? I've seen the way you two spar during cases."

She huffed. "It's just our way of solving problems. It doesn't mean anything more."

Luke's expression turned thoughtful. "I've worked with him for a while, and he usually doesn't go back and forth with people in smart talk. There must be something about you that intrigues him."

"Or irritates him," she added dryly. "You're giving him too much credit."

"Maybe," he admitted with a laugh. "But I don’t know, he might surprise you one of these days."

She shot him a skeptical glance. "I highly doubt that."

"Yeah?" He suddenly looked past her, a sly grin forming. "Then maybe should find out for yourself."

Confused, she turned around to see what had caught his attention…. And time seemed to slow as her eyes widened in surprise when she spotted Spencer entering the party, a casual smile on his face as he greeted everyone. For a moment, their eyes locked, and despite her attempts to remain nonchalant, a subtle flutter danced in her chest.

She quickly looked away, her attempt to maintain composure falling apart.

"See what I mean?" Luke's voice broke through her thoughts.

She rolled her eyes, trying to deflect. "It's just a party, people look at each other. There's nothing special."

He raised an eyebrow and responded with a hint of sarcasm. “Sure."

"I'm serious. Stop reading into it."

"Alright, I won't."

That only annoyed her even more. She took a deep breath, attempting to regain control of the situation. "You're insufferable."

"What? I believe you," he replied. "I mean, nothing could've happened between two people who were locked together and then forced to share a room, right?"

She shot him a glare, but before she could say anything, she felt a presence coming up behind her. A sudden chill ran down her spine as she caught a whiff of scent she was accustomed to by now, something woody and fresh with a subtle hint of sweetness.

"Reid," Luke greeted as he gave her a side glance before moving towards Spencer, casually dropping an arm around his shoulders. "It's good to see you. How's your mom?"

Spencer's eyes met hers briefly before responding to Luke, "She's doing well, thanks."

“Good to hear.” Luke nodded his head towards her. "Y/n here was just telling me how much she missed you during the holidays."

Suppressing a groan, she shot him a warning look. Spencer, however, responded with a small smile. "You did?"

Her cheeks warmed slightly, caught off guard by his direct question. She feigned nonchalance, offering a casual shrug. "Please, I was just mourning the lack of someone to challenge my wisdom."

Luke chuckled and gave her one last pointed look before excusing himself with a pretense of Rossi calling him somewhere from the crowd. Her eyes narrowed on his back as he walked away, shaking her head in disbelief. "That man coming close to being second place on my hate list."

"I take it I'm still on your number one spot then."

She turned towards him at the sound of his voice, and now that they were alone, she finally took her time to observe him.

Her eyes scanned his clothes, taking in the details. From the carefully styled hair that hinted at the time he took to prepare, to the open dress shirt that he seemed unbothered to button all the way, exposing his long neck and the slight expanse of his chest. He looked good. He looked clean, polished, and undeniably handsome.

She blinked and cleared her throat, attempting to regain composure. "Well, you certainly took your time getting ready."

He met her gaze with a hint of amusement in his eyes, seemingly aware of her scrutinizing observation. "I believe in making a good impression," he replied, a subtle smile on his lips.

She arched an eyebrow, resisting the urge to acknowledge the effect his appearance had on her. "Trying to win over the crowd with something beyond your brain?"

"Partly," he admitted, "And partly because someone once told me that a well-dressed genius is a force to be reckoned with."

"Must have been Garcia."

He grinned. "You know her well."

She took another sip of her drink, a blend of sweet and bitter notes dancing on her tongue. Keeping her eyes on him over the rim of her glass, she observed the play of shadows on his face, accentuating the angles of his features. The ambient light from the party cast a subtle glow, and she couldn't help but notice how it highlighted the soft strands of hair that fell gracefully across his forehead.

"I'm actually surprised to see you here," she slowly remarked, her voice laced with curiosity.

"Surprised? Should I be offended?"

"I just never saw you as a... party type of person."

"I'm not," he agreed. "The only exception of social gathering I can endure is with everyone present here."

"Including me?"

“Especially you."

Her demeanor faltered for a split second, caught off guard by the unexpected turn in his tone. It wasn't the usual witty remark she anticipated. A flicker of surprise crossed her features before she could conceal it, her throat clearing as she attempted to regain control over her beating heart.

"Especially… me?" she echoed, attempting to mask the surprise in her voice.

Spencer's gaze held a warmth that felt unfamiliar, and he nodded. "It seems social events are more bearable when you're around."

She tilted her head and studied him. "You're just saying that because you have someone to pick a fight with."

"A fight?" He wondered. "Is that what we've been doing?"

"It's what we've always been doing."

"Not for the past few weeks, we haven't."

She knew what he was referring to. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of indulging in a conversation about their sexual escapades, she instead responded with, "Well, you haven't, I'm still trying to play my part here."

He chuckled softly, the sound resonating in the quiet space between them. "And what part would that be?"

"The one where I constantly question the liability of your knowledge, of course."

Spencer's smile widened, the lines of his face softening. "Maybe," he began, his voice low, "We can explore different roles that don't involve any fighting."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting a truce, Dr. Reid?"

"More like a change of tactics, Dr. L/n," he replied, gently taking the glass from her hand and placing it by the bar.

Her frown deepened, uncertainty in her eyes. "What are you doing?"

He nodded toward the center of the backyard where most of their team members filled the space of the party. "Dance with me."

She gazed towards the dance floor, then back at him, and her brows furrowed. That did not sound like the Spencer she knew, heck, she wasn't sure she had ever seen him dance before. Her eyes narrowed further when he gave her a grin.

"Come on, it's just a dance. It won't kill you," he urged, extending a hand towards her.

She eyed his outstretched hand with mock skepticism. "Are you implying that dancing with you is some kind of survival?"

Spencer grinned. "Considering the number of times you've survived my intellect, this should be a walk in the park."

She rolled her eyes. "Intellect, yes. Dancing? I'll take my chances."

"Are you afraid you'll step on my toes?" he teased.

"More like I'm afraid you'll step on mine," she shot back.

Spencer chuckled. "Just one dance, and if you don't enjoy it, you can revert to questioning the liability of my knowledge."

Her eyes drifted between his outstretched hand and his gaze, a silent contemplation unfolding within her. She knew that if she agreed to this, there was no turning back. Was it a wise decision? Probably not. But a small, rebellious part of her was curious to see how the night would unfold.

Spencer watched her with a patient expression, his hand still extended. The music continued to play, a steady beat that seemed to echo the pulse of the night, and after a moment's hesitation, she sighed in mock exasperation.

"Fine," she said, finally placing her hand in his, "But I reserve the right to make sarcastic remarks about your dance moves later."

"Deal," he agreed, leading her onto the dance floor with a grin.

She could feel everyone's scrutiny on them as he pulled her onto the dance floor, her breath hitching when he grabbed her other hand and placed her arms around his neck before snaking his arms around her waist.

"Everyone's watching us, aren't they?" she asked as they started to move to the soft beat of the music.

Spencer's gaze held a mischievous glint as he twirled her around, navigating the dance floor with surprising grace. "Let them watch," he replied, his voice low, sending a shiver down her spine. "It's just a dance, after all."

"You don't strike me as the 'just a dance' kind of person." She arched an eyebrow, unable to shake off the sense that there was more to this move than met the eye. "You don't even strike me as someone who even knows how to dance."

He shrugged. "Dancing is easy. All you have to do is move in circles and hold on to your partner."

He proved his point by pulling her further into his arms, and she couldn't help but notice the contrast in their heights. His broad chest pressed against her, the softness of his abdomen against her stomach, while his arms securely wrapped around her body.

Her breath caught for a moment, her gaze instinctively locking with his. The initial awkwardness transformed into a surprising ease, and she reciprocated the movements with a newfound confidence. The subtle sways and turns took on a rhythm of their own, syncing perfectly with the music that enveloped them.

"See?" he whispered, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down her spine. "Easy."

They continued to move to the rhythm, and she couldn't help but notice the intensity in his gaze. The world around them seemed to blur, and for a moment, she actually enjoyed being held close to him.

But before she could fully relax in his arms, JJ appeared on the dance floor, hand in hand with her husband Will. The look of disbelief in their friend's eyes was unmistakable as the couple approached them while being tangled in their own dance.

"Are my eyes deceiving me," JJ teased, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Or are you two getting along quite well?"

She rolled her eyes, attempting to maintain a casual facade. "It's just a dance. Don't read too much into it."

JJ's grin widened as she exchanged a knowing look with Will. "I didn't think I'd see the day when you and Reid would willingly share the dance floor."

She shot a glance at Spencer, and there was a momentary flicker of something in his eyes—was it surprise? amusement? She couldn't quite place it. Collecting herself, she responded with a mock grimace, "He forced me into it."

Spencer's expression turned playful. "I have a way of convincing people to do things they didn't know they wanted to do."

"You mean manipulate."

He chuckled. "Persuade, Y/n. It's all about perspective."

From the corner of her eyes, she saw JJ and Will exchanging another pointed look. "Either way, you both look like you're having a good time."

"And you both look good together," Will added.

"Thank you."

"We're not together."

They both looked at each other while JJ raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. "Yet here you are. Spence, you might have just discovered a hidden talent—getting Y/n to dance."

She let out a sigh. "Don't encourage him."

Spencer leaned in, his tone low. "You're just mad because you're enjoying this."

She narrowed her eyes. "Let's not get carried away."

"Come on, just admit it," The corners of his lips lifted in a playful smirk. "You're having more fun than you expected."

"Fun?" She scoffed, attempting to deflect the growing warmth in her cheeks. "I wouldn't call this fun. It's just an unfortunate consequence of being at a party."

"Yet you can't deny that you're not entirely opposed to the idea."

She shot him a glare. "You're dangerously close to overestimating your influence."

"Or maybe you're underestimating your willingness to enjoy the moment."

She shook her head, turning towards JJ. "Can you believe him—"

She stopped when she realized they had been left alone for a while, noticing JJ and Will were already at the other side of the dance floor. However as her eyes scanned around them, the scrutiny of the others didn't go unnoticed by her. She fixed her gaze back on Spencer.

"We must be such a sight to see," she remarked. "I bet they're starting some rumors about us."

He raised his eyebrows. "You think they haven't already?"

She sighed, acknowledging his words. "Fair point."

"What do you think they're saying about us?"

She considered for a moment. "That we secretly don't hate each other," she responded after contemplating her answer. "I think they might be disappointed when they realize the truth."

His arms instinctively tightened around her waist. "And what's the truth?"

She studied him, her heart suddenly beating fast. Weeks ago, she would have answered the question with certainty, stating that they were nothing more than coworkers who were both very stubborn. But as she felt his eyes watching her intently, she wasn't so sure anymore.

"The truth?" she echoed, her voice a little softer than she intended. "I don't know, Reid. What is our truth?"

He held her gaze, and for a moment, she was hypnotized by the look in his eyes. "Well, the part where we secretly don't hate each other is true, for me at least."

Her breath caught as she absorbed his words.

“…you don't hate me?"

"Hate is a very strong word." Spencer leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "Hate is often fueled by fear or misunderstanding. It's a complex emotion rooted in our perceptions and experiences. So, in a way, hate is a reflection of the mind rather than a true evaluation of a person."

She couldn't help but let out a disbelieving laugh. "Did you just use psychology to explain why you don't hate me?"

"Considering our line of work, it seemed appropriate."

She shook her head in amusement. "Only you would analyze hate in the middle of a dance."

Spencer continued, "Well, understanding emotions is crucial in our field. And I believe there's more to us than mere hostility."

She pursed her lips together, her mind suddenly going through the times they often bickered. "I still find it hard to believe you didn't hate me the first time we met."

"Dislike would be a better way to put it. But I was at my lowest point at that time. It wasn't just you, I was angry at everyone. At the circumstances. At myself." He slightly leaned back and sighed. "And I admit, it was wrong of me to take it out on you."

Then after a moment of silence, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

She felt the warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against hers. The apology hung in the air and she found herself at a loss for words. For a fleeting moment, the walls she had built seemed to crumble, leaving her standing on the precipice of something unfamiliar.

She took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper, "And how do you see me now?"

Spencer's gaze held a thoughtful intensity as he considered her question. "I think you're someone who challenges me. There's a depth to you beyond the harsh glare and cold shoulder." He eased, pressing a hand on her lower back. "And, if I may say, someone who looks surprisingly stunning on the dance floor."

A blush crept over her cheeks, and she narrowed her eyes, wondering if he had another motive behind the compliment. "You're using flattery now? Are you trying to get in my pants again?"

He laughed. "Is it working?"

She rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile. "Nice try, Reid. Flattery might get you far, but not that far."

His grin widened, and he guided her through the dance floor with ease. "Well, I'll have to come up with better tactics then."

His touch, gentle and deliberate, sent a shiver down her spine as his thumb traced an almost hypnotic pattern on the small of her back through the fabric of her dress. The soft caress felt both intimate and tender, catching her off guard. "I mean it though," he said, his voice a soft murmur that resonated with honesty. "You do look beautiful tonight."

There was something in his gaze that was unfamiliar, even hearing him easily compliment her was foreign in her ears. Her confusion must have been evident on her face because he smiled at her. "What?"

She shook her head, dismissing her thoughts. "Nothing. It's just... unexpected, coming from you."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her as they moved in sync with the music. "It's part of my New Year's resolution."

"What? To be nicer?" She guessed. "Be a better person?"

"To be a better person for you," he corrected.

Her heartbeat picked up, and she found herself drawing closer to him, the music weaving a subtle spell around them. The warmth radiating from him, the soft glow of the string lights, and the gentle melody created an intimate atmosphere that blurred the lines between the hostility she often wore.

The distance between them diminished, and she felt the subtle shift in the air. Without registering what she was doing, her fingers came up behind his neck, softly playing with the strands of his hair. They were so soft, just like the look reflected in his eyes. Then her gaze went down to his lips; they too looked incredibly soft.

"Stop looking at me like that."

Her eyes snapped to his. "Like what?"

"Like you want to close the distance between us," he whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down her spine. "Because I'm trying to restrain myself from doing just that."

His fingers found the small of her back, pressing gently, while hers continued their silent dance in his hair. Every touch, every movement, fueled the escalating heat between them. His proximity was intoxicating, and the magnetic pull between them was undeniable. The distance diminished further until she could feel his breath, warm and inviting, grazing against her lips.

But before she could indulge herself, Garcia's voice echoed somewhere in the crowd. "It's the final countdown, people!"

Suddenly becoming aware of their surroundings, she released her arms from around his neck and shifted her gaze elsewhere. Her eyes landed on the projector screen, previously used by the kids for a movie marathon and now it displayed the vibrant scenes of people joyously ringing in the New Year celebration.

As the digital numbers on the screen ticked down, the energy in the backyard intensified. The countdown became a collective heartbeat, a shared anticipation that echoed through the crowd.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!"

In those final moments, she stole a glance at Spencer, their eyes locking silently.

"Seven! Six! Five!"

But his stare became so intense that she quickly looked away.

"Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

The cheers erupted, and the backyard was bathed in the glow of fireworks, the sky above adorned with bursts of color. She watched the dazzling display in awe, the explosions of light reflecting in her eyes.

Amidst the celebratory chaos, she noticed her friends wrapped in the arms of their loved ones, celebrating happily. JJ and Will shared a sweet kiss, Simmons was embraced by his family, Penelope and Luke exchanged laughter, and even Rossi, with a subtle smile, clinked glasses with Emily and Tara.

And as the colorful explosions painted the night sky, she felt a lingering gaze on her. Turning, she found Spencer watching her intently. His eyes were searching hers as if he were asking for permission to close the short distance separating them.

She knew what he meant. It was beyond asking permission to kiss her. It was a gentle plea to understand the unspoken boundaries that lingered between them. Engaging in intimacy behind closed doors was one thing, but to take that step in front of their peers meant exposing a vulnerability she had carefully guarded. Did she want to cross that line?

A part of her wavered, finding herself drawn to him—his warm brown eyes, his smile, everything about him seemed to call out to a part of her that she had kept guarded. The barriers she had meticulously built started to feel like fragile walls as everything around them started to fade, leaving only the soft glow of string lights and the distant echoes of laughter.

Oh, fuck it.

Feeling the pull of an undeniable force, she took a step closer with a small, bashful smile playing on her lips. It was all the answer he needed. Closing the distance between them, he framed her face with his large hands, his warm touch sending a shiver down her spine. Surrounded by the cheers of the crowd and the vibrant display of fireworks overhead, he finally leaned down, gently brushing his lips against hers.

Warmth spread through her body as he held her, his touch gentle yet possessive. He tipped her jaw, allowing his mouth to move along with hers. His tongue easily slipped into her as he continued to taste the subtle hint of liquor she had been drinking. Spencer was never one to drink, but he didn't mind tasting it on her. If anything, he couldn't get enough.

Her arms instinctively traveled underneath his suit jacket, seeking more of his warmth as she wrapped them around his waist. The fabric of his suit was smooth under her fingertips, and the heat of his body radiated through the layers of clothing.

The kiss deepened as he continued to explore her mouth, growing more intense with each passing second, and it wasn't until they heard someone through their haze calling out, "There are kids here!" that he finally pulled away.

He laughed, a soft, genuine sound and she couldn't help but join in. He then rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space that separated them. The lingering taste of their kiss hung in the air, and for a moment, they simply stood there. The reality of the situation slowly sank in, and they exchanged a glance filled with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"I guess we got carried away," he mumbled.

"You think?" She chuckled, her fingers playing with the lapels of his suit jacket. "We should keep it PG-13 for now."

His fingers gently traced the curve of her cheek. "Does that mean we can go R-rated later?"

She let out a laugh, throwing her head back in mirth. "You're relentless."

He smiled, savoring the moment of ease between them, and he found himself captivated by the genuine joy she radiated. His gaze traveled around the backyard and noticed everyone watching them with amused grins. He leaned down and pulled her flush against him. "Everyone's watching us."

She groaned and hid her face in the crook of his neck. "I can already imagine their teasing."

There was a moment of silence before he responded, "I think it's worth it."

"What is?" she mumbled into his neck.

He pulled away and looked down at her. In a tender gesture, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "I can handle the constant teasing if it means I get to hold you like this."

The corners of her lips curled into a soft smile. "You're willing to endure their teasing just to hold me?"

His gaze met hers, unwavering. "More than willing."

Her gaze softened as she looked at him. She couldn't believe how this night had turned out, yet, here they were—wrapped up in a dance of their own. It was a position she would've never imagined herself in. And despite her best efforts to resist, the walls she had meticulously built were crumbling.

"Can I kiss you again?" He whispered. "I promise I'll make it family-friendly."

The corners of her lips curled as she laughed. The unexpected turn of events had brought them to a place she never anticipated, but surprisingly, it felt oddly right.

"I suppose one more won't hurt."

His smile widened, and with a hint of mischief in his eyes, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. "Happy New Year," he whispered against her lips.

She found herself smiling, realizing that perhaps, unexpected as it was, this change of year wasn't so bad. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, and wondered where her life would take her this year. The path ahead seemed unclear, but one thing was certain—Spencer Reid had managed to find his way into her heart.

.

a/n: if you’ve followed the story since lose control, this is the ending for this short series. As much as I wanted to write smut again for the last part, the fluff was calling out to me :3

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[captainmalewriter]

A God's Tongue

“Alright, you ready?” Ahmed asked as he got on his knees. His roommate Kyle helped himself onto his bed and stripped down.

“More than ready! Thanks again man, seriously, you’re the best!”

Kyle stroked his flaccid cock until it began hardening up to full mast. Once it was sufficiently hard enough, Ahmed brushed off Kyle’s hand and took a hold of his cock himself. He looked at the long, pink member with hungry eyes. He smacked his lips with his tongue. Ahmed was ready to go down on his roommate right then and there, but then a slight hesitation in his mind stopped him.

“What’s wrong?” Kyle asked.

“I don’t know if we should be doing this tonight. Aren’t you worried I’m transforming you too much? This’ll be the third time this month! What if something happens to you?”

Ahmed backed away from the bed. Suddenly, the idea of his magic tongue horrified him. He doesn't know how he developed such a strange ability, but Ahmed had the power to temporarily transform anything (or anyone) he wanted by licking it. Ahmed hated his tongue. It made eating unnecessarily difficult and hook ups practically impossible. He swore to keep his magic tongue a secret until the day he died. However, after a night out drinking, Ahmed accidentally hooked up with Kyle and turned him into an adonis. He hoped it would just be a one time thing, but Kyled begged him to transform him again. Although he initially refused, Ahmed eventually warmed up to the idea when he realized it was his chance to finally hook up without someone finding out about his powers. They formed a mutually beneficial arrangement: Kyle got to be a Greek god, while Ahmed got the sex he craved but couldn't have because of his tongue.

It was originally supposed to be a once-a-month thing. Ahmed's tongue could only do temporary transformations. But everytime Ahmed used his power on Kyle, he noticed there was something inexplicably off about his roommate. Sure, Kyle's body returned back to normal after a few days, but his personality started changing too. He became angry, anxious, and even aggressive at times. Ahmed wasn't sure what exactly was going on inside his roommate's mind and he was worried his tongue had something to do with it.

“Nahh I'll be fine!!" Kyle chuckled. "You worry too much, Ahmed! Nothing bad has ever happened in all the times we've done this, right?"

"Well, no, I guess not."

"Exactly! It'll be fine. If anything, we'll just do it one more time and then we'll take a long break... Sound good?"

Ahmed looked up and saw Kyle smiling at him. His reassurance helped calm his nerves. But despite Kyle's affirmation, doubt still lingered in his mind. Ahmed hesitated, but after Kyle made his erect cock twitch at him, he ultimately decided one more transformation couldn't hurt. He wrapped a hand around Kyle's boner, stood up, and kissed him firmly on the lips.

The two men exchanged rough kisses as they pressed their bodies against each other, grunting and groaning as they did so. Kyle then opened his mouth, granting Ahmed the opportunity to slip his tongue inside.

Ahmed's tongue was magical in more ways than one. He knew how to use his tongue well. Ahmed had no problem dominating Kyle's tongue as he took the leading role in their makeout sess. Kyle groaned with delight as Ahmed licked and sucked away at his tongue. As he did so, Ahmed's magic tongue activated and Kyle began to transform. His jawline became wider and sharper as it morphed into a more squared off jaw with some slight stubble to complete his more overtly masculine look. His nose grew thicker and wider until a hooked nose replaced his small, button nose. His cheekbones filled in and grew more pronounced, giving him a ruggedly handsome face. All the while his face began getting darker in skin tone too. His blond, wavy hair darkened until they were jet black and with curls. Darker features were something Ahmed's tongue had never done before, but they were both too caught up in the heat of the moment to even notice.

Ahmed pulled his lips away from Kyle's lips and moved down to his neck. He planted his lips against the left side of his body. He then began licking, sucking, and biting playfully at his neck until hickies began to form, then switched over to the right side.

"Nrgghh fuckk..." Kyle whispered. The heat coming from Ahmed's wet mouth felt good against his neck. His hands gripped the bed sheets as he felt his neck grow thicker and darker with every lick Ahmed gave him. Ahmed ran his tongue from the top of his shoulder blades to the edge of his jawline, causing his shoulder muscles to tighten and thicken. Within seconds, Kyle's back transformed into that of a linebacker thanks to Ahmed's magic tongue. Ahmed moved over into Kyle's armpits next. He stuck his nose into his pit and sniffed his musk. He then licked the crevice if his pits, causing thick black hair to sprout in until Kyle had rank jungles in his underarms. From there, Ahmed slid over to his arms and bit him. He bit and licked all over until Kyle's biceps grew into firm, melon-sized cannons with thick forearms to boot. He licked and licked until veins all throughout Kyle's arms throbbed with strength.

Ahmed continued making his way down Kyle's torso. He stopped at his chest. He licked his nipples until they grew pointy, then proceeded to slip his pec into his mouth and sucked away at his nipple. Kyle's toes curled and his pupils rolled back as Ahmed suckled away at his growing chest. The pleasurable sensations were making him break a sweat. Ahmed didn't mind it though. He was having the time of his life too. The sweat added a slightly salty taste to Kyle's tits. He could feel Kyle's pectoral muscles grow heavier in his mouth as he sucked too, giving his hands something to grab and squeeze as he focused his mouth on his nips. Once he felt Kyle had a suitable set of hefty pecs, Ahmed moved down further to his abdominal region. Ahmed then proceeded to trace the outline of his abs with his tongue. Kyle's flabby stomach region swelled with muscle mass until his abs began popping out one by one like freshly popped popcorn.

In no time flat, Kyle's body had undergone two major transformations. His muscles swelled and grew while also growing darker in color until Kyle had become a muscular Arab god. Every lick Ahmed gave Kyle was pushing him further and further away from his original identity.

Unfortunately, both Ahmed and Kyle were too busy enjoying themselves notice Ahmed was inadvertently changing his roommate's race into his own. Ahmed got back down on his knees with Kyle's cock in hand. He slipped his pink head into his mouth and began licking away at it. He started slowly at first, then gradually made his way down Kyle's lengthy rod inch by inch. All the while Ahmed made sure to use his tongue generously.

"Mmm yeah just like that... Keep sucking that big dick!" Kyle purred, Ahmed moaned in response. He sunk back against the bed as Ahmed's wet mouth wrapped tightly around his hard cock. The sensual feeling of Ahmed's thick, bushy beard pressing against the cleanly shaved base of his cock drove him mad with pleasure. Kyle ran his fingers through his roommate's hair as Ahmed alternated between swirling and licking the sensitive tip of his dick like a melting popsicle, sending rippling sensations throughout his groin every time he did so.

"Ohhh fuckk..! It's happening..!!" Kyle said with bated breath. He threw his head back as he felt a new surge of blood rush into his already erect cock, causing it to grow thicker and heavier by the second.

"Mmmph!!" Ahmed gagged against the expanding cock in his mouth. Suddenly, Kyle's dick was long enough to press against the back of his throat but he refused to give up. He took in a breath through his nose and continued deepthroating Kyle's member until his nose touched his pubis. With his length already pushing 8 inches, Ahmed's magic began affecting Kyle's balls too. They grew and grew until they hung low, heavy with cum.

"Ahhh..! Ahhh..! FUCK!! Ohhh....!!!"

Kyle squirmed from the building pressure in his junk. His body was becoming more muscular and Arab by the second! His balls were practically twitching, begging him for release! Kyle knew how uncomfortable transformation could be, but it was never this powerful before. He knew something was wrong. Amidst waves of pleasure, he opened his eyes and was shocked at what he saw. He had become the muscular adonis again just like he wanted, but his body had unexpectedly become brown too!

"What the fuck..? Noooo...!!"

The darker skin tone was slowly but surely spreading up the length of his pink dick. Kyle tried patting Ahmed in a desperate attempt to stop him, but he took it a sign to not stop sucking him off. Kyle tried to fight it, but between the bomb head and the transformation pains, his body seized up. All he could do was brace himself as his cock twitched and rumbled until he finally shot loads of cum down Ahmed's throat. The moment he pumped out the first load, the growing melanin surged throughout the rest of his body. His legs spasmed as his feet grew bigger and wider until he had smelly, size 14 feet. He had been completely transformed from head to toe.

"Ahhh man! That was good!!" Ahmed swallowed Kyle's load then got up from his knees. "That was more intense than last time! How do you- what the fuck!? Who are you!!"

Ahmed jumped back when he saw the new Arab Kyle laying out in front of him. Kyle held a hand against his temples.

"What are you yelling for... It's me!"

"Kyle!?"

"Who else?"

"But... No! That can't be! You were just supposed to become muscular! Now you look like one of my cousins!!"

"I don't know what to tell you man... Your tongue transformed me, so now I'm gonna look like this for the next couple of days."

The two men shared looks. Kyle held a serious expression while Ahmed looked like he was ready to pass out.

"Well... I guess you're just gonna look like this for a while. Are you gonna be okay?" Ahmed asked.

"Yeah man! I'll be fine!" Kyle flashed Ahmed a smile, but it still took him a while to actually calm down. But once he did, he left the room anxious while a sinister smirk began to form on 'Kyle's' face.

"That fucking idiot..." 'Kyle' said in perfect Arabic. "It took me a long time to squeeze out enough magic out of that fool, but I'm finally fully adjusted to this body!!"

Zahid flashed a grin to himself as he flexed his new body. He was more than happy with the results of his hard work. As he did so, an idea struck him.

"The God's tongue is wasted on someone foolish and cowardly like him... Looks like I'm gonna need one more favor from you, Brother."

The same smirk from before returned to Zahid's face as he looked at himself proudly in the mirror. One that Ahmed had no idea he was responsible for creating with his magic tongue.

[saetoshis]

Listen. Yes Hoshina is a short king. But consider. . . If he's short he's probably feeling like he's got smth to prove. Excited to bend his partner over and deill them like they insulted him. Plus then he might hit you with the 'princess' or smth of the like. Putting youbin a verbal place of power (as the taller person) while he's still doming thr fuck out of you. "How'd you let this happen, princess? Letting someone like me see this weak side of you? Were you just careless? Overly trusting? Or perhaps you underestimated me. I suppose I'll have to punish you for that." Type beat.

Anway love our beloved Hoshi thanks as always for your tasty art!

HELPME UR SO RIGHT ... NOW IM THINKING LIKE ... WHAT IF U TEASED HIM FOR BEING A LIL SHORT N THEN .. YK ...

taller!fem reader [5'7"+ 172cm+], oral m. receiving, size kink [sorta?], teasing, pet name [ princess], fingering, squirting, MDNI.

you, who got all-too-cocky because your eyes are just a bit higher in line with his, made a mistake.

vice captain hoshina is nothing if not an enigma. his silly demeanor and playful attitude about everything makes him seem so non-threatening, that you might've gotten too comfortable with teasing him and acting high and mighty. whenever he tells you what to do, maybe you'll make a little gesture with your hand above his head, reminding him who has more "power." these jokes were your mistake.

maybe he'll want to punish you - watch you kneel in front of him, his hand on your pretty head as he guides you towards the bulge in his pants. maybe he'll hum out a little, "since you wanna poke fun at height, how 'bout you try being the short one for once?"

maybe hoshina will lean back and watch you unzip his pants, taking no time to push your mouth onto his eager cock. he might even rut his hips a little, muttering out between breathy 'fuck's, "not so big now, huh? how does it feel, hm? didn't think i'd be big down there, did you?"

hoshina watches so closely as you bob your head and pump your hand, thighs keening together where you're sat all prettily on the floor. a little smirk might even tug at his lips as he realizes just how turned on you're getting from this. "what, getting all hot and bothered by this? didn't think someone shorter than you could get you all worked up? you know better, don't you?"

his words send a jolt straight through your frame and you can't help but shudder, and all of a sudden the vice captain seems so much more intimidating, even more enticing than you ever thought. it's like he can sense you losing yourself in the moment, and he's got you right where he wants you.

hoshina leans down, flashing you a smug sneer as he lifts your face to look up at him - all the while admiring the pretty sheen of your lips and your glassy eyes. "is that what i think it is? is the princess who's always mocking my height suddenly unable to resist me? the irony... how should i deal with you, hm?"

he maneuvers you to bend over against the counter, chest pressed against the cool granite as he lets his thumb drag along your clothed pussy. one hand presses your back, the other languidly slipping off your shorts and panties as he hums, "oh, what's that? a wet spot, hm? not so cocky now, aren't you?"

it takes a lot of strength to even muster thoughts, your head spinning from how lewd he's acting - it's bafflingly hot. you pant against the counter as you look back, watching his eyes flit over your hips while his finger does the same against your clit. hoshina lets out a little laugh when he watches you shudder along with a strained whine.

"feels good, doesn't it? does being put in your place turn you on? yeah?" hoshina sneers and lets out a little chuckle, swiftly slipping his fingers between your walls and curling forwards. he can't help but wear a smirk on his face as he enjoys your willing submission. "let me remind you that i'm the vice captain of the third division. the strongest second to mina. forgot that, did you?"

his sheer strength shows in each intense flick and curl of his fingers against the spot that makes your spine shudder, and it's humbling. it's when he starts simultaneously toying with your clit that you feel like you're on fire, a buzz building up between your thighs just begging for release.

"that's it... yeah, let it out. show me just how much you like it. cum all over my hand, bet you'll never act cocky again," hoshina leers under his breath, ministrations going into overdrive as you shiver and whimper shamelessly. with a voice-cracking whine, his name falls from your lips over and over as flicks of liquid smother his hand from his unrelenting movements.

"ahh, of course you squirt on top of everything..." hoshina leans over the counter to admire the dizzied expression on your face with a little grin of his own. his fingers nudge your chin as he murmurs, "felt good? yeah? you gonna be good now? don't wanna hear you trying to humble me ever again after you left such a mess all over me."

he presses a little kiss on your cheek, smirking against your skin before he shifts to your ear. with a low whisper, he mutters, "unless you wanna have me fuck you in that suit... 92% isn't a joke, you know?"

2024 SAETOSHIS. do not copy/repost.

[toast-on-dandelioms]

Hello, I really a fans of your work and always waiting for the updates. I have a question, what happen if Y/n just ignore the batfam as Y/n also turn to superfam becoming their family. It also assuming Alfred A-Okay with it. Oh, also Y/n might be have relationship with one of the superboys and she love to cuddle with the lover. Well, that's just my wild imagination thinking about.

Oh well, I hope you have great days.❤️😘

Thank you for liking my work! If you're asking for part 4, it will come out soon and probably by the end of next week!

Well, I don't think Alfred would be totally a-okay with this and after a bit he would act to 'fix' the situation.

He wants you to stay at the Manor and be appreciated too by the Batfam even though they don't even know you exist.

He has tried before, talking about you to Bruce and the others but they always dismissed him with the excuse of being busy or forgetting about you the next day.

And seeing you giving up on being with your real family and finding love in another family that actually accepts you and he can't accept that.

You're supposed to be with him as the rest of the Waynes not with some alien family.

He would act like he supports you whenever you come to visit him since you mostly live with the Kents nowadays and come to the Manor to grab the things you needed since you were moving your stuff from the Manor to the Kents house.

After a while you start to come home, to come back to him even less before you just visit him maybe once a month before it turns into no more visiting him since you're busy with school, dance classes and the vigilante role you still have.

And Alfred hates it so he decides that he can't stand to watch his boys obsess over your vigilante persona when they can't even bother to notice you weren't living in the Manor anymore.

So he decides to call a family meeting without your knowledge and explains everything, who you were behind the mask and how dissapointed and ashamed that the people he raised didn't even acknowledge that you existed.

Their reaction, which were mostly of confusion before realisation bothered him but he stayed silent and used their reaction to manipulate them, make them think you weren't in the right place with the Kent family.

And after a week from that meeting, you started to receive texts from all the batfam and also kept seeing them everywhere, with Bruce at school or when you were patrolling the city.

He would always try to talk to you, which you ignored or gave him the finger while swinging away, preferring to not engage in his tries to connect with you.

Plus he would show up at your dance recitals when you never said anything to Alfred about them and he would always be right in first row with a smug smile since he knew you couldn't do anything.

Plus you already knew they knew who you were behind the mask, they said your name when you had your mask on so many times you wanted to punch their faces.

You had to skip a few days of school because Tim and Damian started to show up at your same highschool and sitting next to you in class, to which no one would say anything and it frustrated you since highschool was one of your safe places but not anymore.

You tried to ignore Dick and Jason's attempts at stalking you, not because it was noticeable since you never saw them but the spider sense made you aware you were being watched and after a bit you were able to notice them following you.

Yes you did feel proud since you didn't have any detective training like the others but still knew who was following just by using the things around you.

You vented your frustrations with Clark and Conner and they did help by letting you skip school and everything but you had to go back to school or it would affect your attendance and damage your reputation and curriculum for future colleges applications.

But one fateful day, you went to a mission with Conner and Clark since they needed a third person but couldn't bring Jon since he was busy with school, so you went in his place.

During the mission you got ambushed, Conner and Clark were at disadvantage since the attackers (not sure on the term, the people that attacks) somehow had kryptonite weapons.

Plus you were also fighting, using the tasers and also the objects around you like rocks or trees.

Yes, you did throw a tree at a group of them and you also got Clark telling you not to do it again. Did you listen though? No.

As you were fighting you suddenly got stung by something in the leg, and when you touched the spot where it hurt you saw a small dart there.

You opened your mouth to call for Clark or Conner but someone covered your mouth and held you as you fainted while Clark and Conner had to flee since the attackers were too strong with the kryptonite.

The last thing you saw was the smiling face of Dick before completely giving in the drug you got injected in your body, not hearing them fight about who was gonna carry you in the batmobile.

[fatecantstopme]

Never Do That Again

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Summary: The team is in a tiny town, a town so small that there is only one tiny hotel. What happens when you end up having to share a small room with your boss for a week straight?

Warnings: Angst. Some fluffy fluff. Mentions of death. Suicide. SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V). Use of pet names. Swearing.

"Dear God, I'm exhausted," you mumbled as you walked into the little hotel.

"I'm just looking forward to a hot shower," Morgan said from behind you.

"So are we. You smell terrible," Emily teased.

"Shut up."

You all chuckled as you reached the front desk.

"Good evening," the woman at the desk said. "How can I help you?"

"Hi there," you said with a smile as you were the first person to reach the desk. "We're in need of a few rooms."

"Okay, dear. We have one single and three doubles available."

Before anyone else could say anything, Rossi stepped forward and said, "I'll take the single."

The lady handed him the key and he waved to you all as he headed towards the elevator.

"Are you kidding me?" you grumbled.

"Reid and I will bunk together," Morgan said, taking another key from the desk.

You were about to ask JJ to room with you, but she snatched up a key and said, "Emily and I will take a room."

You gave her a look that she pretended not to see.

Hotch sighed heavily and reached for the last key. "I guess that means it's you and me, (Y/L/N)."

You deepened the glare on your face as you looked at JJ. She smiled at you knowingly and you felt the strong urge to smack her. Instead, you simply said, "Guess so, boss."

Everyone moved towards the elevators as a group, but you grabbed JJ's arm and pulled her back to you. "You did that on purpose," you hissed.

"Of course I did."

"J--what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Now's your chance, (Y/N/N). Time to find out if he wants you as badly as I think he does."

"Or I'm just horny and sleep-deprived for however long we're stuck here," you grumbled.

"I doubt it."

She practically dragged you into the elevator with her and you both fell silent. JJ was the only person you'd ever admitted your feelings to about your boss. She was your best friend and you trusted her implicitly.

When you first told her you liked Hotch, she started paying more attention to how he acted around you. By this point, she was convinced he was into you--like really into you. You weren't so sure. Hotch was always so professional...you couldn't imagine a situation where he would break the rules so blatantly.

The hotel was small, only 8 rooms in total, four on the second floor and four on the third. JJ and Emily's room was on the second, as was yours and Hotch's, meanwhile, Rossi's room and Reid and Morgan's was on the third floor.

Hotch unlocked the door and waited for you to enter before bidding goodnight to JJ and Emily and shutting the door. You managed one last glare in JJ's direction before the door shut, but she shot you a wink and ducked into her own room.

When you turned around and got a full view of the room, you realized just how tiny it was. The two beds were so close together they were almost touching and the only other pieces of furniture in the room were a single nightstand and a small loveseat.

"Well this is...quaint," you managed.

Hotch laughed lightly. "That's one word for it." He tossed his duffle onto the bed closest to the door. "I'll take this one if that's okay with you?"

You nodded and walked over to the other bed and sat down on the edge of it. "You wanna shower first? I'll take longer."

"Sure, thanks." He grabbed what he would need and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

You gave yourself a little slap on the face to try and snap yourself out it. Your brain was betraying you as it often did in situations like this. First, you imagined what he would look like without his clothes, then your mind wandered to taking a shower with him, then to being underneath him on the bed. "Shit, (Y/N)," you said to yourself. "Snap out of it."

You laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for Hotch to come out of the bathroom. You tried to think about literally anything else, but your mind kept traveling back to your boss--as it often did these days.

You knew it was dangerous to let yourself think about him or imagine anything with him. He was beyond off-limits. You couldn't deny the sexual attraction you felt, nor the spark of real attraction, but you sure as hell couldn't act on it. It could destroy both of your lives.

"Uhh...(Y/N)?" Hotch said a little louder. The way he spoke told you it wasn't the first time he'd said your name.

"Sorry--I was lost in thought," you said as you sat up. You were completely unprepared for the sight of him post-shower, his hair was damp and tousled, and he wore nothing but a t-shirt and boxers.

You must have been staring a little too long because he cleared his throat. "Your turn."

"Oh, yeah--right." You stumbled to the bathroom, feeling like a complete idiot. You made fast work of your shower and nighttime routine.

You started digging through your bag trying to find your pjs as the panic started to rise in you. "Fuck," you muttered. "Fuck, shit, fuck!"

"Everything okay in there?" Hotch called.

"Yeah," you called back. "I just--shit--I forgot my pajamas."

"Oh...umm--do you need anything?"

You groaned as you realized all you had was a tank top. "Not to be awkward or anything, but do you maybe have pants?"

He chuckled lightly and you heard him rustle through his bag. "I have a pair of sweats. Will that work?"

Oh, thank god. "Yes! Thank you so much."

You opened the door just enough for him to slide the pants through the crack. You grabbed them gratefully and pulled them on quickly. As expected, they were massive on you. He was broader and taller than you, the sweats making you look like you were a child trying on your father's clothes.

You walked out of the bathroom, holding tightly to the waistband of the pants. "They're slightly big on me," you said lightly.

Hotch looked over at you and froze. His eyes trailed over your body slowly and you felt incredibly exposed under his gaze.

"The uh--the tank was all I had," you mumbled as you climbed into your bed.

Hotch seemed to realize he'd been staring awkwardly and his gaze quickly averted. "Don't worry about it. You can wear whatever you want to bed."

You chuckled. "Thank you?"

He groaned. "Sorry, that came out weird."

"It's okay." You laid down on your bed and sighed. "These beds are tiny."

He laughed. "You're telling me. I've never felt so large in my life."

You looked over at him and giggled. "You look like you're sleeping in a child's bed."

He groaned. "I feel like I'm sleeping in a child's bed. There is no way this is going to be comfortable."

"What size are these beds, anyway?"

"I don't think they even make beds like this. They're slightly larger than a twin, but smaller than a full."

You sighed. "They had them specially made for this tiny room."

He chuckled. "Probably."

You curled up under your covers and settled in for the night, exhaustion finally overwhelming your body. "Could you get the light?"

"Of course." He reached over and turned off the lamp. "Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Hotch."

**********

"How'd you sleep?" you asked the next morning.

"Terribly," Hotch admitted.

"Me too, honestly."

"It's the tiny bed."

You sighed. "Hopefully we'll only be here a day or two."

The whole team worked hard all day, doing their best to catch the latest unsub. You finally decided to call it a night around 7.

"Let's get dinner and head back to the hotel," Hotch said.

Everyone agreed and you headed to the local diner, one of the only places to get food in this town.

You slid into the booth on the side facing the door, as you always did, and to your surprise, Hotch slid in next to you. JJ was sitting across from you and she smirked slightly when she saw Hotch sit down.

You gave her a 'shut it' look and she just chuckled.

Throughout dinner, Hotch's leg brushed against yours several times and his proximity had you distracted. You could smell his cologne and it made you lightheaded. It was almost embarrassing. When his leg would brush yours, your entire body froze and you found it difficult to breathe.

You were beyond grateful for dinner to be over and to head back to the hotel. But even there you couldn't escape him because you were sharing a damn room. FML.

When you walked back into the hotel room and stared at the tiny beds you groaned audibly.

Hotch followed your gaze and chuckled. "Yeah, not looking forward to that either."

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head and before you could think better of it, you spit said idea out. "Hey, what if we push the beds together to make one big bed?"

Hotch froze. "What?"

"I mean, at least then it'd be like a normal sized bed and maybe then we could get some sleep."

He just stared at you in silence and you quickly realized what you had just suggested.

"Or, not--just kidding. That was a terrible idea."

"No, no--actually, that's not a bad idea," he said.

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah! I mean, at least that way we both have a higher chance of actually getting some sleep."

"Okay, cool."

The two of you set to work on moving the nightstand out of the way and pushing the two beds together. It actually did seem to be make sense, at least visually. Hopefully it made sleeping a little more pleasant tonight as well.

"Much better," you said softly as you patted your side of the bed. "Just don't roll me off the bed in the middle of the night."

He laughed. "No promises."

Just like the night before, Hotch showered first, then it was your turn. When you came back out, he was already laying in the bed with his eyes closed.

You moved slowly and lightly, just in case he was asleep. When you crawled into the bed, you noticed the way he was breathing and you couldn't help but smile. He was fast asleep, all the worry lines that normally lived on his face were gone, and you couldn't help but think he looked incredibly peaceful.

You smiled again as you reached across him to turn off the lamp before getting comfortable on your side of the bed. "Goodnight, Hotch," you whispered.

**********

The next day was almost identical to the day before. Work all day, eat dinner, shower, go to sleep.

It was day number four when things finally started to pick up. It was an extremely long day, but the team had successfully identified the unsub. Now it was just a matter of finding him.

Day five was an absolute shitshow. One of the locals had messed up and spoiled the team's chance of catching the unsub. You'd been on a wild goose chase for most of the day and Hotch was in an absolutely foul mood by the time you made it back to the hotel.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" you asked quietly as the two of you sat upright in bed.

"No."

"Okay."

You both sat in silence for several minutes--the heaviest silence you'd ever felt.

"I don't like feeling powerless," Hotch said suddenly.

You turned to look at him in surprise. "No one does."

He shook his head. "It's worse for me. I'm in charge--I'm supposed to be the leader. If I have no control, then what are we supposed to do?"

"It might help to remember you're not alone."

He looked over at you. "I feel alone."

"You're not. You have us," you insisted.

"I shouldn't be burdening any of you with my troubles."

"It's not a burden. We're your family, Hotch. It's what we're there for."

He fell silent again, but it was much less tense than before. After a few minutes, he spoke again. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"And you won't judge me?"

"I would never judge you," you said honestly.

"Sometimes I lay in bed at night filled with nothing but fear and regret. It's so crippling I can barely move. This case is getting to me, and I--I feel that fear. Every worst case scenario runs through my mind and I feel like I'm drowning."

Instinct takes over and you reach to grab his hand. He tenses, but he doesn't pull away. "I'll be your life-raft," you murmured.

He looked up at you with emotion-filled eyes. You weren't used to seeing anything other than the most stoic expressions on his face and it shocked you beyond belief. But nothing could prepare you for the words about to come out of his mouth. "Can I hold you?" he whispered so softly you almost thought you were hearing things.

"I--uh--you--" you stammered.

"Never mind, forget I said anything."

"No, wait--I was just surprised," you said softly. "If it will help you, then yes, you can hold me."

Without waiting for him to respond, you laid down beside him. He shifted slightly, getting into a more comfortable position. You felt his arm snake around you as he whispered, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," you whispered back.

He tightened his grip around your waist and pulled you closer so your back was flush against his front. You couldn't remember a time when you didn't want this, but you didn't imagine it happening quite like this.

It was either exhaustion from the day or the comfort of his arms, but you fell asleep within moments, Hotch not far behind you. Neither of you would admit it, but it was the best sleep you'd gotten in ages.

**********

The next day was different in so many ways. Hotch was different. Opening up to you had changed something in him, something you didn't understand. He was never more than a few feet from you at any point in time, he would brush up against you often, and he would glance at you for much longer than he should have. You weren't sure what to think, and you didn't want to read too much into it.

It was mid-afternoon when you received a phone call that led you to the location of the unsub. The seven of you pulled up to an abandoned house where he was supposedly staying. You entered, guns drawn, and began to clear the house.

You reached one of the back bedrooms and a shot rang out. You ducked back out of the doorway just as another bullet struck the doorframe where you had been standing a second before.

"FBI! Put the weapon down!" you yelled.

"You first," a voice replied.

"Come on, Matthew, it's over. Just put the gun down and come out."

You felt Hotch come up beside you. "She's right, Matthew. We have you surrounded."

You could practically hear the wheels in Matthew's head turning. After several moments of silence, a final shot rang out, followed by a loud thud.

Hotch reached out to stop you, but you pulled away from him and entered the bedroom. Matthew, the unsub, was lying on the floor in the middle of the room. The gun was in his right hand, blood splattered all over the left side of the room.

"Guess we were right about him being suicidal," you said softly. When you turned to look back at Hotch, he was staring at you with a look you couldn't quite place--somewhere between terror and anger.

Before you could ask him what was wrong, the rest of the team started coming into the room. You made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Hotch was quiet during dinner and he was silent when you got back to your room. He didn't even say anything as he crawled into bed.

You'd asked him if he was okay and he'd brushed you off, but you were no fool. You could feel the tension rolling off his body in waves.

You laid there, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what had happened and why he wouldn't speak to you. It was killing you inside and there was nothing you could do about it.

"Never do that again," he said suddenly.

"Do what?" you asked in confusion.

"Put yourself in danger like that. You could have been killed."

"Hotch, I was doing my job."

"Your job is to come home at the end of the day--not get yourself shot by some deranged killer."

"What are you talking about?"

He turned the light on and sat up, anger radiating off him. "You didn't even think--you heard that last shot and you just went into that room. You didn't know what you'd find! You didn't know if he was still alive--if he was going to shoot you. You didn't think about what it would do to me if something happened to you!"

You'd been gearing up to yell back at him until you heard his last sentence. "What it would do to you?" you whispered.

He froze, seemingly realizing in that moment what he'd actually admitted out loud. "I--shit."

"Hotch?" you questioned softly.

He groaned and put his head in his hands. "Forget I said anything."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen."

He sighed. "Look, (Y/N). I--I care about you, okay? I...I don't think I could take it if something happened to you."

"Nothing happened, Hotch. I'm perfectly fine."

He finally looked up at you. "This time. What about the next time? Or the one after that? I'm terrified every single time you step into a potentially dangerous situation."

"Terrified of what, exactly?"

"Losing you!" he yelled, exasperated. "Of watching something bad happen to you; of not telling you how I feel; of never getting the chance to touch you or hold you or kiss you--and I can't stand it, (Y/N)! I just can't."

You blinked several times as if that would magically make his words sink in. Of all the ways you'd imagined having this kind of conversation with him, this was most definitely not on the list.

"I'm sorry," you murmured. "I didn't know you worried so much."

His eyes were swimming with emotion and unshed tears. "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?" he whispered.

You shook your head. "But I think I'm starting to see it."

"I know I'm not supposed to feel like this. I'm not supposed to like you this way or want you like this, but I can't keep suppressing my emotions and pretending everything is fine as it is. It's not fine, (Y/N)--I'm not fine. I can't keep living a lie...it's killing me."

Every word you'd ever learned magically left your brain in that moment. Your heart was hammering in your chest, the only indication you were still alive, the rest of you completely frozen in time.

Then, suddenly, your brain kicked back into gear and you launched yourself towards him, lips locking against his in a passionate kiss. Your words had failed you, but there was no mistaking the emotions in that kiss.

When you separated, you were breathing heavily, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized what you'd done. Before you could apologize, Hotch grabbed you and pulled you back into him, kissing you with as much passion as you'd given him.

"(Y/N)," he breathed against your lips.

You sighed as he grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap, lips never leaving yours. His hands snaked up under your tank top, feeling your warm, soft skin with the tips of his fingers.

You let him pull your shirt off over your head and his gaze fell to your exposed breasts. He bit his lip and looked up at you hesitantly, as if asking for your permission.

You grabbed his left hand and placed it directly on your chest. He got the hint and immediately lowered his face to take your pert nipple into his mouth.

You let out a little sigh and ran your fingers through his dark hair. When he nipped at your breast, you gasped and tightened your hold on him.

"Aaron..." you whispered softly, losing yourself in the feeling of his hands and his lips on your body.

He groaned and lifted his head to look at you again. "I never thought my name on your lips would sound so sexy."

You grinned and murmured, "Aaron."

"Now you're just being a tease."

You bit your lip and winked at him.

He chuckled lightly before flipping you onto your back so you were under him on the bed. He reattached his lips to yours, kissing you like his life depended on it.

Your hands began to tug on his shirt and he pulled away from you just long enough for you to yank it over his head. He wasted no time getting back to kissing you, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck.

Your hands caressed every inch of his skin you could reach from your position, the softness of your touch eliciting sweet sounds from his lips.

He rutted his hips against yours and you gasped at the feeling of his very hard member pressing into you.

Your body suddenly went into overdrive--years of pent-up desire rising to the surface. "I need you," you begged.

He lifted his gaze to meet yours. "I'm right here, baby."

You shook your head. "Need more."

He smirked. "Who knew you'd be such a needy girl?"

"Aaron," you whined.

He chuckled. "Alright, alright. Patience, sweetheart." He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your sweatpants and gave them a firm tug. He pulled them down your legs and tossed them off to the side.

You spread your legs for him, revealing your soaking wet core. He moaned at the sight before slipping a finger between your folds to collect the juices that lingered there. He brought his finger up to his mouth and licked it clean, another moan escaping his lips.

"You taste delicious," he murmured.

You could only stare at him, eyes pleading him to give you more.

Normally Hotch would have taken his time teasing you, but he could feel your need radiating off you in waves. Plus, if he was being honest, he needed you just as badly. Waiting just wasn't in the cards tonight.

He dropped to his stomach between your legs and before you could say a word, his mouth was on you, hot breath, wet tongue, and devilish lips dancing across your core, making you gasp with pleasure.

He ate you out like you were his very last meal--and he intended to savor every second of it. Despite having never been intimate with you before, he played your body like an expert musician, hitting every single one of your sweet spots, making you squirm beneath his touch.

"Aaron, please--I'm--" you gasped out.

He moaned, not wanting to stop his ministrations to respond to you. He knew you were close without you having to spell it out. He could feel the way your pussy clenched around his fingers and the way your thighs had begun to shake. He was desperate to feel you cum--to taste your delicious release--so he didn't stop.

Your fingers dug into his scalp and tugged at his hair as you squirmed, pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

With one last flick of his tongue and motion of his fingers, you cried out his name as your orgasm crashed into you. He held you in place as he lapped up your release, lips not leaving your pussy until you practically dragged him up by his hair.

He smiled down at you and licked his lips, tasting the last of you on them. Your eyes were wide and your body shivered with aftershocks--a feeling you weren't exactly accustomed to.

"Can I return the favor?" you asked, slightly breathless.

"As much as I would love that, I wanna be inside of you too badly to wait--I'm gonna struggle to last as it is."

You smiled. "Then lose the boxers, handsome. Lemme see you."

He sat up and quickly shed his boxers, eyes focused on your face. He knew he was well endowed--and he knew how to use it--but nothing made his chest swell with pride as much as the way you were looking at him right now.

Your eyes were focused on his cock, surprise evident in your gaze as you took in his size. The surprise quickly melted into heady desire and your gaze flicked back up to his face.

"Like what you see?" he teased.

"You know I do," you whispered.

There was something about the way you said it that made him want you even more. As he lined himself up with your entrance, he took a deep breath to try and maintain his composure. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you or lose control.

You wiggled your hips slightly, letting him know you were ready and willing.

He locked eyes with you as he began to slowly slide into your tight, wet heat. Your lips parted and a soft gasp left them as he pushed inside. "I've got you, baby," he murmured.

Your hands gripped his biceps as he kept pushing into you, the stretch threatening to break you right in half. By the time he finally bottomed out, your nails had dug crescent shaped indentations into his skin.

He wanted to wait for your body to adjust to him before he began to move, but you had other plans. "Fuck me, Aaron. Please."

The pleading tone in your voice was all he needed to hear. He began to move, hips setting a fast pace from the start.

The room filled with the sounds of your love-making--moans, whimpers, gasps of each other's names--mixed with the salacious sounds of your bodies coming together.

"You feel so good, baby," he whispered. "Even more incredible than I imagined."

Your mind was completely fuzzy, filled with nothing but the feeling of immense pleasure. As such, you couldn't formulate coherent sentences to respond to anything Hotch whispered to you.

"I could stay here forever--" he moaned as you clenched tightly around him. "Fuck--baby, I'm not gonna last."

You simply moaned in response as he sped up his movements.

"I need you to cum for me, (Y/N/N). Need to feel you--please."

You were clutching onto him, nails raking down his back as he fucked you deeply. "Close," was all you could manage to say to him.

"Can I fill you up, baby girl? Wanna make you mine."

Something about his words drove you wild. You screamed out "Yes!" followed by "Aaron!" as you came, body shaking beneath him.

The way your pussy clenched around his cock as you came sent him right over the edge and he filled you with his seed. His hips faltered on his last few strokes and he whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you both came down from your highs.

He slowly pulled out of you and your body shivered slightly at the loss of contact. He quickly got up, stumbling slightly, as he made his way to the bathroom for a warm washcloth.

He came back and began to gently clean you up. When he was done, he tossed the washcloth onto the floor and crawled into the bed beside you.

"Come here, pretty girl," he mumbled.

You obliged, moving your body so you were up against his side. He pulled you closer and you rested your head on his chest.

"Infinitely better than I'd imagined," he whispered into your hair.

You chuckled lightly. "Agreed."

"Oh? So you imagined it too?"

You glanced up at him, a light blush covering your cheeks. "Of course I did."

He raised his eyebrows. "You're very good at hiding your attraction."

"Thank you. It's not exactly easy when you're surrounded by a bunch of profilers."

He nodded. "I know what you mean. I'm surprised you didn't know I liked you before this."

You bit your lip and looked away.

"What is it?"

"Well...JJ knew."

"Oh?"

"She insisted you liked me...and she also knows that I like you."

"Ahh, well...I suppose it was only a matter of time."

You looked up at him again. "You're taking this surprisingly well."

He shrugged. "It's not as if I was planning on keeping this a secret."

Surprise lit up your face. "You weren't?"

He returned your surprised expression. "Of course not. I finally have you, (Y/N), and I'm sure as hell not letting go."

"But what about the rules?"

"To hell with the rules. We deserve to be happy."

"Who are you and what have you done with Aaron Hotchner?" you teased softly.

He smiled. "Him? Well...he fell in love."

You inhaled sharply.

"You don't have to say it back, (Y/N). I have no expectations here...but I know how I feel and I needed to say it."

You lifted your head off his chest to look at him better. "I know I don't have to, but I want to. I love you too," you whispered.

A thousand emotions filled his eyes the moment those words left your lips. He leaned down to kiss you and you felt your body respond to him immediately.

Before you knew it, you were straddling him as you made out, desire pulsating between you. "Round two?" you asked with a grin.

"I thought you'd never ask."

**********

The next morning, you went down for breakfast a few minutes before Hotch. You'd woken up to his lips on the back of your neck and shoulders--kisses that quickly turned to more fiery passion.

You'd finally convinced him to come shower with you, which of course took longer because he insisted on giving you just one more orgasm.

When you walked into the little seating area on the first floor, you were greeted by the rest of your team. Every single one of them had shit-eating grins on their faces as they said good morning to you.

"How was your night, (Y/N)?" Emily asked lightly.

"Did you sleep well?" JJ teased.

"I didn't get much sleep," you said honestly--knowing they clearly were already aware of that.

"I imagine Hotch didn't either," Morgan said with a grin.

You shot him a look. "Alright, out with it."

"I'm just saying, (Y/N/N), the walls are really thin," he responded.

Your eyes widened and you looked at JJ for confirmation.

"We're just really grateful for those noise-canceling headphones you got us for Christmas last year," JJ answered.

"Oh. My. God," you groaned.

"Morning everyone," Hotch said as he walked into the room, completely oblivious to the current conversation.

"Morning, Aaron," Rossi said knowingly, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Hotch glanced at you, taking note of your very red cheeks. Comprehension dawned on his face and his eyes widened slightly.

"Thin walls," you whispered.

To your surprise, Hotch simply smiled. "Saves us the trouble of telling them we're dating."

Rossi was the first to laugh and the rest of the team quickly joined in. You were glad they knew--even if it was in the most awkward way possible. You knew they loved and supported both you and Hotch, and that wouldn't change with your new-found relationship.

[testrella]

CRAZY RICH ASIANS…! G.SATORU X READER

𝜗𝜚 |CHAPTER TWO : rare sighting.

NEXT… CHAPTER THREE : just..friends!

“you scored a 0% on a true or false quiz,” you slide the paper across the desk towards megumi. “which…came to a surprise to me as you don’t usually score this low. but it’s been happening so much i decided to pull you aside.”

you sat quietly at your desk, it was time for school dismissal but regardless you stopped megumi before he could leave. you watched his gaze be fixed onto the floor as he came up with some sort of excuse.

“a 0%..? a few more of those and i guess i’ll have to be kicked out of this sch-”

you interrupted him, “if a person wearing a blindfold were picking answers on a true or false quiz at random, do you know what score they would get?”

megumi’s eyes flickered down at his paper and back at you. “..50%.?” he remained silent until it finally clicked for him, “w-wait wai-”

“exactly, which means the only way to get all the answers wrong,” you write a 100% on what used to be a score of 0% onto his paper, “is to know what answers are right.” 

megumi’s cheeks flushed slightly out of embarrassment, and looked away from you. he had some nerve trying to fail your class on purpose.

you soften your tone before speaking again, “you want to give up but i’m not going to let you.”

megumi finally built up the courage to look you in the eye, his expression was a mix of guilt and shame. “it’s just a stupid quiz miss. l/n..” he muttered.

“megumi fushiguro, i will not allow you to fail. you have potential, so use it.”

megumi stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his bowtie to properly fit his collar, as he recalled one of the earliest memories of you. it was about the third time he’s ‘fixed’ his bowtie, only for him to undo it and try again. 

the elegant dining hall in the hotel was full of live music, soft murmuring from the people attending and clinking of silverware. there were government officials, professional sport players, and well known clans from all of japan. a small dinner hosted by gojo that was only supposed to be a sign of his gratitude turned into an elite party posted on all the newspapers. 

despite his nose being filled with smells of his favorite dishes, and his ears listening to his favorite band perform downstairs, he couldn't help but be nervous. you were told it was going to be a small dinner but there were news reporters outside the hotel. there were the regular common folk outside the gates as well, hoping to get a glance of the life of being an elite. no matter how prepared you thought you were, you weren’t prepared enough. 

you sit across your friend from her dining table. the both of you attended the same university back in the united states. the difference is that you were majoring in education while she was getting her doctorate within two years as a foreign exchange student. to say her strive for excellence consumed her entire life was an understatement. it had been so long since the two of you had a chance to reunite, with her busy running a hospital at 26 and yourself being busy settling down in japan. 

“so i have dinner tonight with one of my students' guardians,” you mentioned as you took a bite from one of the side dishes provided to you. her home was no doubt worth over 90 million ¥. the floors were a clean and white marble and the walls seemed to stretch so high it could reach the clouds. it almost looked like a hospital, how ironic. 

“i’m really excited since the dinner is to be hosted in the grand hotel in central tokyo.” you mentioned. 

suddenly, the servants that rushed from point A to point B stopped, your friend dropped her fork into her soup and the dogs stopped barking. it goes dead silent and the only noise heard was your slow chewing.

“y/n.. did you just say you’re having dinner at the gojo grand hotel? you know, the one everybody in japan has been talking about?!” shoko whispered-yelled. 

“uh- yeah, mr. gojo invited me to-”

a servant puts herself into the conversation, “the gojo satoru personally invited you to attend?? how do you come across him so casually! they say he’s japan’s bruce wayne, never seen in public unless its-”

“unless it’s for business. someone like you would’ve never come across him! neither of us would except ms. shoko..” another chimes in. by now everyone is looking at you and whispering comments. with the limited information provided, you assume mr. gojo was a rare sighting, like bigfoot.

“do you not know who satoru is? do-does she not know?” shoko asked around, slightly laughing at the confusion written all over your face. shoko takes a sip from her wine as she rubbed her nose. 

“you’re going to the gojo clan’s resort dressed like that?” she teased and everyone around you let out a muffled giggle. 

you looked down at your casual attire. “what’s wrong with what i’m wearing?”  

shoko grabs you by the arm, pulling you out from the dining room. “come with me. you’ll thank me later but you cannot go looking like that.” 

you find yourself going in and out of her walk in dressing room, and being rated how how flattering the dress fits you. 

as you’re changing out of one of many dresses, shoko mentions gojo again. “you know, him and i go way back.” 

you turn to her, “mr gojo?” you suck your stomach in as she tightens the back of another dress. “i’ve never heard of him.” 

“of course you haven’t, you foreigners know nothing about japan’s elite.” you watched her from the mirror in front of you, her eyebrows knit together when she’s tying the back of the dress. 

“japan’s elite?” you questioned.

“satoru is from the gojo clan, one of the richest and old money family in japan. his family owns like half of

japan,” your mouth slowly gapes open as she reveals this information. “they say when you stand next to satoru, you’re nothing but an ant compared to him.” 

shoko pauses to admire you. the dark navy floor length dress flattered you in all the right places. it was certainly something out of your tax bracket.

“he’s apart of the most influential family ever.” she whispered. in a way, she wanted to warn you of what you’re about to step into. it’s a different world than the one you’re living in. 

“how do you know him then?” 

“we met back in high school. he’s the only reason i was able to attend school overseas.”

you looked back at her, “what do you mean?” 

“he paid for my tuition.” she smiled.

your face goes pale. if it weren’t for your full ride scholarship, there wasn’t a chance in the world you’d be where you are now. standford wasn’t exactly the most affordable option. 

suddenly, your stomach starts turning and flipping in ways you didn’t want it to. it was nerve wracking. 

“y/n, don’t be nervous about attending the party. sure, he has a shit ton of money but he’s still a humble guy deep down.” you snort at the last comment. how could someone as rich as him be humble?

“i think i’ll feel a lot better if you came with me shoko.” you face her as she cups your face with the gentle care you’d give a wilted flower. 

“i guess seeing that blue eyed freak won’t be too bad.” 

as the car pulled up to the main entrance of the hotel, your heart started pounding rapidly fast. you continue to wipe your sweaty palms against your seat before stepping out the car. the valet takes the keys from shoko before greeting you. 

“you look amazing, y/n. don’t stress. you belong here just as much as anyone else here.” she whispered some words of encouragement before you spot a familiar jet black haired boy. 

“megumi!” you exclaimed excitedly. relief came washing over you as you spotted your student. 

megumi, dressed in a black and white tux, gave you a soft smile before walking up to you. he extends his arm as he offered to escort you inside. 

“ms. l/n! i’m really happy to see you. i know this was supposed to be small but gojo got caught up with his business.” he continues to hold onto your arm before letting go when the both of you enter, allowing an attendant takes your coat from you. 

he guides you through the lobby and, into the ballroom that is covered in marble floors and crystal chandeliers. all of it scream luxury as you admired the family portraits and spotting a familiar white haired male as a baby. 

megumi finds gojo across the ballroom before you do since you’re too occupied on viewing the art. “gojo has a habit of making things a lot bigger than it needs to be. i’ll leave you in his care.” 

from across the ballroom, gojo observed megumi guiding you through the room with an unusual feeling of anxiety. he had always been confident, some may say overly confident, in meeting new people or greeting them. introducing himself to others was something he knew like the back of his palm. he was charismatic and witty; people loved him.

but tonight felt different the moment he laid his eyes on you. the blue gown, that coincidentally matched his tie, caught the eye of not just himself but every other man in the room. he was around the presence of the most important figures yet he felt a twinge of nervousness in his stomach build up as you got closer and closer. 

‘seriously? out of all the nights to feel this way it just had to be tonight?’ he thought. 

he glanced around the room, desperately trying to maintain his composure, but his thoughts were going 100 miles a minute. it felt like he was back in secondary school and had a schoolboy crush. 

gojo felt a surge of warmth as you presented yourself in front of him. you looked even more breathtaking up close. you had his full attention. before you could see through him, he quickly puts up his business facade. “ms. l/n! it’s a pleasure to see you tonight.” he said in his infamous charismatic manner. 

you shake his hand that he extended out. “the pleasure is all mine. although, i was told this would be a small dinner between you, megumi and myself.” you joked.

he chuckled a bit before leading you into a private room upstairs. the conversation on the way up flows naturally, starting off how the day was going for the both of you. 

“wait wait wait, let me get this straight. you had no idea who i was before you shoko? and you know shoko too?!” the two of you were a few drinks in. a slight blush was spread across his cheeks. 

“well i am a foreigner, i wasn’t aware how prominent your family is.” you giggled as you took another sip of wine. 

laughter bounced off the walls as the two of you dined together the entire night. he found himself captivated by your intelligence, kindness and how naive you were. 

and for the first time in gojo’s life, he felt truly engaged in a conversation. nothing business or family related, only a genuine conversation between two people. 

tag list @roscpctals99 @poeticlovefanpage @mistyheart @sureconfused @chilichopsticks @lightshowerrr @faeryminnyx @0001010dog @myabae @nivi @therealestpussyeater @kolpvii @sleepykittycx @browrm @tojisworm-5 @universallystrangeravenue @catobsessedlady @shivzypuff @nico707 @invisible-mori @peqch-pie @dilflover-3 @lovelivelaygh1324 @moOsin @gojoracle @foliea @honoredalone @goldenglow149 @portgas459ace @sealsu @misorastars @hyori2 @selysixn @silkija @prettylvne @r0ckst4rjk @ritsatoru @starlostwish @yihona-san06 @zoeyflower @mx-mekla @iaminyourfloors @gabi-moureira  @thesharkcollector @misorastars @hyori2 @selysixn @miffysoo @lordbugs @mimidonottouch @moonlightazriel @bubybubsters

[the-final-sif]

Dream's Response Summary

Dream posted a response to various accusations, covering just about everything ever because he was done with this shit. I've done my best to summarize it here, but I recommend going and watching his whole video. This is going to be extremely summarized for readability and I'm only going to cover stuff I consider serious so anything about speedrunning is getting skipped.

The tl:dr is: Dream never groomed anyone or had inappropriate contact with anyone underage, he provided proof that one accuser flat out lied, and the other ""accusation"" was from a third party who was never involved. The actual supposed victim released a statement that they were never groomed, nor a victim in any way, never was asked about someone sharing information about them, and wants everyone to shut the fuck up.

Police were never actually contacted, both twitter accounts were lying about doing so to make their claims seem real. Also the supposed snapchat video shown is a very obvious fake.

He covers Manatreed, the run down is the guy was a childhood best friend he grew up with and who was struggling with homelessness. Dream helped him, and never knew about the battery charge (Manatreed had lied to him about it). When Dream spoke to Manatreed's ex girlfriend, she was very clear she never wanted any of this publicly out there, that she was happy that Dream had been helping Manatreed and she wanted the best for him.

Dream still doesn't know exactly what happened with that situation, he has since lost contract with Manatreed, all he knows is he was trying to help a childhood friend and got lied to.

The first allegation from Oxy/Anastasia, he's extremely clear they only ever messaged in twitter dms and he disproves the claim about the texts/tik tok. He has a google voice number hooked up to his tik tok account for obvious reasons, and she was showing imessage texts. This is not possible, which means she was lying.

As part of this, Dream scrolls through his twitter dms and shows he responds to fans all the time and talks to people in his community from all over. He also shows how he's friends with and has hired people that were fans of his, including people like Foolish.

He discusses Amanda, the two of them messaged on instagram back when he was a much smaller creator. He showed/posted the transcript of the two of them talking about normal stuff. They had been messaging since 2020. He did attempt to post a complete transcript of those messages, but she had deleted some of her messages and he doesn't have a way to recover them.

Dream explains that Instagram has a "feature" where if you ever reply to someone, then you literally cannot remove their ability to message you without blocking them. Something I did not know about instagram and which is fucking wild.

Since he replied to her in 2020, that meant she could message him forever and her notifications would be constantly showing up for him. He attempted to delete her messages/her ability to message him back in 2021 and showed proof of this, but realized he couldn't. Dream also in doing so accidentally deleted the context to her messages that she was a fan and basically everything prior to 2021.

Since he didn't remember her (what with the prior messages deleted), she was dmnig him from her personal account without fan content on it and was talking about being a streamer, he assumed she was a smaller streamer he knew and was talking to her as such.

They were talking about music so he gave her his personal snapchat to talk and because he wanted to get some feedback on a new song he was working on. He wanted to send the song via snapchat so he could be reasonably sure it'd stay private.

Dream categorically denies any sexting with Amanda or sexual messaging at all, he goes through why she most likely did this (he had been ignoring her messages and made a new snapchat with only close friends). He also downloaded his own data (something Amanda refused to/failed to do), went through the snapchat logs and did see some messages, but never saw either of his supposed compliments to her.

Amanda claimed Dream deleted her dms and that's why she couldn't provide any of the evidence she claimed she had, but Dream showed those same DMs very clearly undeleted. The dms were never deleted and she lied as an excuse.

Amanda lied about going to the police. Dream had his lawyers file a bunch of requests, and track down the police station that she went to based on the photo. They filed every request possible for any information with this police station, and there was no record of Amanda visiting the station or any records relating to Dream whatsoever. So either she lied about filing anything, or she told a story such that the police filed literally no paperwork whatsoever about the situation. Not even a report.

Dream sent the police station a copy of his own drivers license and Amanda's information so they could contact him if anything did come up, and nothing ever did. Nothing was filed, nobody cared.

Dream got swatted several times as a result of online harassment, including his family, and the harassment was overwhelming and awful for him.

He addresses the gumball situation, he showed up to a birthday party for a friend, gumball's VA was there and kept getting aggressive with him. While on facetime with some friends, Cantu ended up hitting Dream to impress them. Dream was obviously put off by this, but at the end of the night people ended up ubering together and Dream ended up in an uber with Cantu. He thought it'd be fine since other people were involved.

Cantu dropped his phone out the window made the uber driver pull over to look for it and got in trouble with the police. The uber driver tried to talk to Cantu about handling the police in the future, and Cantu started calling the uber driver slurs and claiming the uber driver had "down syndrome".

Dream got involved, trying to defend the uber driver, and Cantu threatened to kill him and called him slurs. Later Cantu apologized and Dream wanted to forgive him. Only later, Cantu started spreading lies about him and calling him a pedophile, so Dream realized the apology wasn't sincere and called him out for his behavior.

The third party who had been filming all of this saw what Cantu was doing lying about Dream and trying to claim none of this happened. They reached out to Dream and gave him the actual video as proof of what happened. Cantu tried to threaten them out of sending Dream the video of what happened, but they ignored him and sent them anyways. Dream also had the uber driver in his video backing up what he said.

Finally, the Jamie Allegations

Jamie is a mutual friend of several people that Dream knew, she did not post the allegations, she was never contacted about any of this she made an explicit statement that she was never groomed or a victim in any way.

Dream and Jamie meet prior to Dream being a youtuber on bbh's minecraft server, they were both fans of Skeppy. Which is why Jamie was followed by Dream, Skeppy, Vurb and some other youtubers in their friend group.

Jamie is still active online and put out her own statement, the person in the screenshots never gave permission for any of this to be put out, and they are very clear that the messages were taken out of context and that the claims made are false. The person in the screens is clear Dream is not a groomer, they never accused him of that, and that the twitter account is lying.

The snapchat video shown is very obviously fake, because snapchat just magically opens itself, there's no finger or button use interacting with the screen.

The burner account never actually contacted the police, Dream records him calling to the department they claimed to contact, and the person answering is very clear they have no contact from this person.

The supposed recent document posted is a fake convo of someone using a fake twitter account to talk to "Jamie", Jamie did not talk to them and it's just fake.

All of this was incredibly damaging for Jamie, who had no idea what was going on, and was getting harassed/stalked/having her irls contact.

Dream has also faced waves of harassment over obviously fake allegations, people have just been taking them at face value. He also shows how easy it is to fake these things as I have done.

He's been swatted, harassed, his family has been swatted and harassed, he's been scared for his own safety several times. It's been awful for him, and all based on fake shit. He's not stepping back from minecraft, but he is stepping back from twitter and no longer engaging with people behaving this way.

Also his ping pong record was undefeated.

[1moreff-creator]

DRDT Rulebreakers!

It has come to my attention that MonoTV seems to be lacking in its responsibilities as a killing game host, in particular regarding the punishment of vile, despicable rulebreakers. Apparently, it’s willing to let breaches of rules go if they’re, quote, “funny.” This is unacceptable.

So, since I was rewatching DRDT for other purposes anyways, I decided to make a list of every participant who’s broken a rule so far. You’d be surprised at how many there are, given there are only three rules they can break. “No violence against MonoTV”, “no sleeping outside the dorms during nighttime,” and “no significant property damage outside of murder.” And yet, all of them have been broken at least once. Here are all the instances of this happening.

Rule Number 5: “Nighttime” is from 10 pm to 8 am. During nighttime, sleeping outside of the dorms is prohibited.

Rulebreaker: Rose

To the surprise of no one, I imagine. If I’d given you three guesses as to who broke this one, your guesses should have been “Rose, Rose and Rose a third time.” Indeed, Ms Lacroix takes the dubious honor of being the first person to break a rule after the students were given their monopads. As in, she literally breaks the rule in the scene the rules are handed out, in CH1 EP2. Right after the nighttime announcement, she falls asleep while standing. For shame.

Thin Ice: Ace

(Ignore the numbers)

I mean. Top right does say nighttime, and he is in fact sleeping. I feel like we could forgive him for this one given the situation, but I suppose it’s up to the jury.

Rule Number 6: Violence towards MonoTV is prohibited.

Rulebreakers: Levi, Arei

Levi is the only person who actually got punished for breaking a rule, and that’s especially funny considering he is the only one who did it before the rules were actually presented to the students lol.

Arei, meanwhile, has no excuse. While strangling a robot that doesn’t require air to breathe is a generally unadvisable as a genuine method of inflicting harm, it’s still very much violence against MonoTV. I actually can see no reason why she wouldn’t be punished for this. I guess she must be the mastermind! /j

Thin Ice: Nico, Charles, J

Nico holding MonoTV by the tail wasn’t an inherently violent act, but it still could cause harm.

Charles, in a twist of fate, got jumped by MonoTV, which isn’t a violation in itself. However, if he fought back at all… it’s curtains. Unconfirmed, but possible violation, hence he’s on thin ice.

Finally, J didn’t actually attack MonoTV in a way that matters, but she basically attempted to murder it with her remote. Watch it, young lady.

Rule Number 7: Significant property damage is prohibited. This rule may be waived in the case of committing a murder.

Rulebreakers: Teruko, Xander, Whit

Teruko: Could anyone use this to commit a murder? The materials these things are made out of are really cheap. This hammer is plastic. Oops. I already broke it...

Whit: Jeez, you trip and faceplant into the wall once and [Charles] will never let you forget it.

Whit is the latest student to be confirmed a vile rulebreaker, and as you might expect, the reason this post exists. He admitted to face-planting on the computer lab wall, and MonoTV admitted it only let it slide because it was funny. This implies the rule was broken, meaning even small things like that count as “significant” property damage.

And with that, we can confirm Xander as a rulebreaker too. No surprise, he’s the Ultimate Rebel for a reason. He actually has multiple counts of breaking this rule, with the elevator doors, but the most straightforward case is the table he broke while arm-wrestling Ace.

Finally, we have Teruko, who has broken this rule in more situations than just one. I chose her breaking the plastic hammer provided to everyone (CH1 EP1) because it’s the most straightforward, but there’s also the icing gun which breaks in her hands when baking cake in CH1, possibly a plate later in the same scene, and probably more. See, this is why Xander was in the righ-

Thin Ice: Ace's Attacker/Nico

(Aka whoever actually broke the fan)

(I could get images without numbers. I'm not going to)

This one's an interesting grey area. The property damage rule can be waived "in the case of committing a murder," but what about attempted murder? Since the murder wasn't successful, should the person who broke the fan be punished for it? Up to interpretation.

———

And that’s as far as it goes (unless I missed something which I most likely did). So, while Ace, J, Charles, Nico, and maybe the Ace attacker (if they’re not just Nico) are all on thin ice, Rose, Levi, Arei, Teruko, Xander, and Whit, are all rulebreakers! And are hereby BANNED from the DAYCA-

Wrong fandom sorry.

These six are all rulebreakers, and are thus liable for execution and/or mastermind allegations. Do with this information what you will.

[7s3ven]

LAST CHRISTMAS. tom riddle

( master list )

IN WHICH… Tom can’t fall in love, he shouldn’t be able to fall in love. So why does he love Y/N L/N with her yellow robes, doe eyes, and her obsession with snow so much that he’d kill anyone in his path to get to her?

Minor warnings : Not proof-read, kind of long, dark Tom Riddle, somewhat yandere

—

“It may be hard to believe, but there was a time where Voldemort loved someone. He was young… barely eighteen. He loved her so much… that he would kill for her. So he did. He killed every boy interested in her and every girl who tormented her. And then he turned on her. Nobody knows what happened to sweet Y/N L/N. Maybe he killed her, maybe she got away… or maybe she stayed with him and let him taint her heart.

He was a boy who knew nothing of real love while she was a girl who wanted nothing but that.”

Tom couldn’t fall in love. He physically shouldn’t be able to fall in love. He wouldn’t let himself to fall in love. He would not allow himself that wretched moment of weakness his peers all seemed to suffer from.

Every day it was always, “Riddle, will you go out with me?” His answer was always no yet these lovesick girls never learned. They all flocked to him like annoying seagulls to a single, lonely chip.

“Excuse me,” A hand suddenly tapped Tom’s shoulder. He turned around, almost glowering at the girl in front of him. Before he could reject her, she spoke up. “You, uh, left this, Riddle.”

Of course, she knew his name but he didn’t know her’s.

She held out Tom’s precious diary and he was quick to snatch it out of her grip. He observed it, narrowing his eyes slightly before he subtly nodded. “Thank… you…” The words felt strange rolling off his tongue. He had never thanked anybody. He hesitated because he didn’t know her name.

“Y/N L/N.” She uttered, smiling.

“What?”

“My name is Y/N L/N. You seemed confused… so I thought you didn’t know me.”

Tom’s eyes flickered to the prefect badge pinned proudly to her robe. He arched an eyebrow. “You… you’re a prefect?” He questioned. He had never seen her at the meetings, which was strange because he noticed everyone.

“Yeah. Head girl.” Y/N beamed again, hardly offended by the fact that Tom didn’t know her despite them being counterparts.

Tom found it strange how he didn’t know her. He was supposed to considering she was the head girl. Tom observed her, staring at Y/N’s Hufflepuff uniform and the yellow ribbons intertwined with her braided hair.

“Right.” Tom muttered, clearing his throat.

“It was a pleasure talking to you, Riddle. I’ll see you around.” Y/N was the first to walk away. Tom wasn’t used to that because normally, he did that. He stared at Y/N’s back, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

Everybody was frightened by Tom’s cold demeanour, but not Y/N. She had approached him so casually without a second thought.

Tom shook his head, sighing under his breath. “Hufflepuffs.”

The next time Tom stumbled upon Y/N was when she had been cornered by three Slytherin girls. He recognized the ringleader as the girl he had rejected last week.

“Stay away from Tom.” The silver-haired girl grumbled, invading Y/N’s personal space. Y/N didn’t seem at all phased. She just smiled as she stared into the girl’s bright blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Y/N questioned, innocently tilting her head to the side.

“Just stay away from Tom, got it?” The Slytherin girl repeated, her glare hardening.

Tom cleared his throat from behind the trio, making his presence known. “Is there a problem here?” He asked, arching an eyebrow.

The trio of Slytherin girls instantly recognized his voice. “Riddle!” The ringleader exclaimed, jumping. She nervously smiled. “We were just helping L/N here. She needed help with… uh…” She trailed off, her eyes wildly darting around.

“Her makeup!” One of her friends piped up, “She likes a boy and wanted our help!”

The third girl quickly nodded and grabbed Y/N by the shoulders, pushing her forward. “Isn’t she pretty? Imagine how pretty she would be with makeup!”

Tom’s stare hardened. He glanced down at Y/N, his lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s pretty enough as is.” He spoke, reaching out to grasp a strand of Y/N’s hair. “Well, I’ll be needing her. Prefect business, you understand?” Tom ripped Y/N from the girl’s grasp and led her down the long, winding hallway.

“Do you always have to deal with those pests?” Tom questioned, looking at Y/N once more.

“They aren’t that bad. They were worse in first year.” She smiled but that didn’t comfort Tom.

“You shouldn’t let them push you around. I’ll talk to them and make sure they never bother you again.” Tom furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Y/N uttered, but Tom didn’t hear her. He was already walking off, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Y/N frowned. “I hope he doesn’t kill them… he looks like the type.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “No. He wouldn’t murder anybody. He’s the head boy.” She walked off in the opposite direction, quietly humming under her breath, unknown to the horrors Tom was committing with his damn pet snake.

Y/N strutted into the Great Hall, ready to eat dinner and gossip about useless things with her friends. But when she approached her companions, she was overwhelmed with their questions.

“Y/N, did you hear about the attacks?”

“I heard those three Slytherin bullies were targeted.”

“Well, they kind of deserved it. It’s not like they’re fully dead. They’re just stone.”

Y/N sat down, confused. “What happened?” And asked, tilting her head to the side.

Bella was the first to explain. “You know those three Slytherin girls who are always picking on you? They were all found turned to stone.” She looked around to make sure nobody was listening before she leaned forward and whispered, “The professors say it wasn’t a hex so they don’t really know what to do.”

“Oh… that’s…” Y/N couldn’t muster up any words. She glanced over at Tom, who was drinking out of his golden goblet. He locked eyes with her and his lips twisted into a cruel smirk.

“Did they find the perpetrator?” Y/N questioned, looking at Bella.

“No. I heard a few students talking about some sort of chamber but I wasn’t close enough to hear anything else.”

For the rest of dinner, Y/N was distracted by the way Tom kept glancing over at her. She felt a sick feeling in her stomach and she tried to convince herself that Tom played no part in this whole mess.

“I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Y/N stiffly smiled as she drank the last of her water from her cup.

Y/N quickly stood up, speed-walking out of hall. She heard someone following her and she spun around, hoping it wasn’t Tom. Luckily, it wasn’t.

It was a Gryffindor boy with messy black hair and stunning blue eyes. He grinned at her. “Y/N L/N, right?”

She slowly nodded.

“Listen, I’ve been interested in you for a while and I don’t want you to feel inclined to accepting my offer, but I would love if you would come to Hogsmeade with me.”

Y/N awkwardly smiled. “Ah, sorry, I’m a little busy. Maybe next time?” She suggested, trying to brush past the boy. But he grasped her wrist

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“You heard her the first time. She’s busy.” Tom had walked to stand behind the boy, towering over him with a mean glare.

“Right.” The Gryffindor thickly swallowed, “I’ll be on my way, then.” He scurried off, almost tripping over his robes.

“You didn’t have to scare him off.” Y/N murmured as she spared Tom a look before resuming her walk to the Hufflepuff common room. Tom followed after her, which unsettled Y/N.

She should have been placed in Gryffindor with how brave she was to eventually confront Tom. “What did you do with those Slytherin girls?” She softly inquired.

She heard Tom chuckle. “I didn’t do anything. Trust me.”

“It’s a bit hard to trust you when you smirked at me like that.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows.

“I never touched those girls. I merely gave them a warning before leaving them. And next thing I know, they were turned to stone. Some Ravenclaw first year found them.”

Y/N stared into Tom’s eyes, looking for any indication that he was lying. It was a bit hard to read him considering he barely had any emotions. But there was a gleam in his usually blank eyes.

“Okay.” She whispered, despite not fully believing him.

Tom had ended up walking Y/N to her common room and she politely nodded. “Good night, Riddle.”

“Call me Tom. Good night, Y/N.”

Rowan, the poor Gryffindor boy who had asked Y/N out, was the next target. Though, he wasn’t found turned to stone. His body was entirely mutilated and Y/N took pity on the third year girl who had discovered his body in the bathroom.

Y/N sat with Bella, pushing her food around on her silver plate. On instinct, she glanced at Tom. He had that same infuriating smirk and this time, he slightly raised his goblet. His actions made his friends laugh.

“I’m leaving for class early. See you at lunch, Bella.”

Her friend hummed, too busy staring at a boy from across the room to notice Y/N’s uneasiness.

Y/N stiffened as she saw Tom stand up out of the corner of her eye. She tried to speed walk away but he easily caught up to her.

“What did you do do him?” She asked, referring to Rowan. He had no enemies and Tom was the only person Y/N could think of. After all, the head boy hadn’t seemed too pleased to see Y/N talking with Rowan.

“Accusing me again? There’s an actual murderer on the loose and instead, you’re pointing fingers at me?” Tom let out a small scoff while Y/N silently stared up at him. “I’m head boy. Do you really think I would decapitate a body?”

“Nobody said anything about the body being decapitated.”

“I saw it. As head boy, I was at the scene.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes while Tom mentally cursed at his mistake. Hufflepuffs were usually easy to gaslight, but not Y/N. And that annoyed Tom.

“They’re still observing the body but I wouldn’t be walking alone if I were you. This attacker seems to be targeting people who are,” Tom took a step closer to Y/N, “All alone.”

Tom cunningly grinned as he shrugged. “Enjoy your walk, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t want to take any chances with Tom since he was her prime suspect. But if he was the murderer, why wasn’t she his next victim? She was alone and the castle was deserted. Now would be the perfect time.

Tom chuckled as the cogs in Y/N’s head started moving. He was going to strut away from the Hufflepuff but Y/N was quick to grab his sleeve.

“Walk me to class.” She demanded. For the first time in a long time, Tom felt his cheeks heat up. And strange enough, he felt a jolt of lightning pass through his body when Y/N’s grasped him.

He concealed those odd emotions. “With pleasure.”

Potions was their first class. Usually, Gryffindors and Slytherins were put together but this year the school decided to mix it up. Classes were now decided on a student’s academic record. And lucky for Tom, all of his courses were with Y/N. Never had he been so glad that one of his peers had almost beaten him for the spot of top student.

Y/N tried to sit away from Tom but he dragged her to a table near his friends. She nervously sat down, tapping her foot against the floor.

She could feel someone burning holes into her back with their glare and Y/N looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with a Ravenclaw girl. She sneered at Y/N.

The H/C-haired teenager slowly turned her head to look at her textbook, but her peace was short lived when a cauldron came crashing down on her head.

It hit her with such force that her head jolted forward and slammed against the wooden table. A sickening crack was heard and the class went silent.

Tom and his friends were the first to react. Avery lifted Y/N and helped her sit up. Her nose was heavily bleeding and the crimson liquid dribbled down her chin, staining the pages of her new and crisp book.

Malfoy held his hands underneath her chin to catch most of the blood while Avery dapped at Y/N’s nose with the sleeve of his robe.

Rosier grabbed the cauldron, slamming it back down in front of the Ravenclaw. At that very moment, Professor Slughorn entered.

He observed the bizarre scene, effortlessly piecing everything together. “Tom, my boy, please escort Miss L/N to the hospital wing. You may bring Mr Avery and Mr Malfoy with you. Rosier, Mulciber, Nott, Lestrange, I want a full explanation of what happened.” Slughorn turned to the Ravenclaw, “Miss Li, I will also require your explanation.”

Hyehi Li, the girl who had thrown the cauldron at Y/N’s head, was gone. She was found by the Ravenclaw Quidditch up on the roof, impaled onto a sharp spear. The students of Hogwarts were growing restless. Parents wanted to collect their kids but the murderer could be anybody, staff or student. Therefore, it was imperative that the professors worked fast to track the attacker down.

Y/N sat in her dorm, thinking to herself. All of the people attacked were connected to her. The three Slytherin girls had bullied her, Rowan had somewhat flirted with her, and Hyehi had injured Y/N. And Tom was there to witness all three incidents.

There wasn’t anybody else who could be doing these things. Y/N was also aware of Tom’s fascination with the dark arts.

It was Christmas Eve and since the school couldn’t technically hold the students in the castle over the holiday, they had no choice but to let them go.

Y/N’s parents were on a trip right now, so she had to stay behind. Not many students wanted to stay at Hogwarts, but Y/N knew Tom and his posse would be roaming the halls.

She was nervous to walk out of the common room, but she was hungry, even at this time when it was close to midnight, and the kitchen was so close.

“L/N!” A voice Y/N didn’t recognize suddenly called out. She turned around, watching a Slytherin boy jog towards her. She recognized him as a year below her.

“Ah… you shouldn’t be talking to me, it’s not safe.” Y/N had come to the conclusion that any boy or girl who teased or flirted with her was in serious trouble if Tom ever found in.

“Why? I just wanted to say happy Christmas Eve. And thanks for helping me with my homework this year. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Y/N stiffly smiled and nodded her head. “You’re welcome. Good bye.” Y/N wanted to leave but the boy blocked her path.

“Do you have anybody to celebrate Christmas with? You’re always welcome in the Slytherin common room. Riddle seems to have taken a liking to you.”

Speak of the devil, Y/N could hear Avery’s loud laughs from just around the corner. And where Avery was, Tom and his friends were sure to follow.

Y/N’s eyes slightly widened. “Please leave me alone… for your sake.” She whispered, trying to brush past him. But the boy didn’t seem to sense the urgency in Y/N’s voice as he grabbed her shoulder just as Tom came into sight.

A feeling of dread overcame Y/N as Tom approached the pair. “Onyx.” He greeted the boy by the last name. “What business do you have with Y/N?”

Onyx, as oblivious as ever, smiled. “I was just thanking her for helping me. And I was going to invite her to spend Christmas in the Slytherin chamber.”

Tom narrowed his eyes as he slowly nodded. “… I see. We’ll have to finish decorating the tree then. Come on.” Tom guided Onyx with a firm hand on his back. Y/N’s breath trembled and finally having had enough of being connected to all the murders, she silently followed Tom and his friends and Onyx.

There was a loud bang and as Y/N peeked around the corner, she almost gasped. Avery, the supposed sweet boy who had helped her with her bloody nose, had just knocked Onyx out cold.

“Let’s get this over with quickly. I have some matters to attend to.” Tom pulled out his wand, pointing the tip at Onyx. “Avada Kedavra.” There was a blinding flash of green light and then all was still.

Y/N stumbled back. She quickly sprinted off, making sure to be quiet and not leave anything behind. She burst into the Hufflepuff common room and began to wildly knock on every door.

“Why is no one here?!” She exclaimed, pounding her fist against the wall. “The headmaster and Slughorn are gone too! And Dumbledore- Wait, I can tell Dumbledore!”

She rushed to the exit but crashed into a tall figure. She fell back, hitting her head.

“You didn’t think you would actually get away, did you?” It was just Tom this time. His friends were nowhere to be seen.

Y/N scrambled back but Tom easily outstretched a hand, grabbing her collar and pulling her up. “I got you a gift.” He said, handing Y/N a narrowly wrapped present as soon as the clock struck midnight.

“If it’s part of a body, I don’t want it.”

Tom merely smiled. “Open it and find out.”

Y/N opened the lid a tiny bit, jumping when she saw a pure white snake inside. It hissed and bared it’s sharp fangs at her.

“Sweet dreams, amour.” Tom uttered, stepping forward and knocking the present out of Y/N’s grasp. The box fell and the snake swiftly slithered over to Y/N’s ankle. “I love you.”

He harshly pressed his lips to Y/N’s just as the snake opened its mouth and sank its fangs into her flesh.

“Is this really the best way to do it?” Avery questioned as him and Lestrange pulled a wooden plank from their dorm floor. “We could just hide her dead body in a closet. Though, eventually, her corpse is going to rot and stink.”

Tom, from his position on his bed, tilted his head to the side. “Who said anything about her being dead?”

Nott arched an eyebrow and laughed. “She’s not actually alive, is she? Because stuffing her in there would be cruel.”

“Since when did you care about being cruel?” Tom retorted, “To be honest, I’m not actually sure whether she’s dead or not. I checked her pulse and there was none but her heart is still beating. It’s… strange. And fascinating.”

Tom’s lips curled into a smirk.

Y/N was shoved beneath the floor boards right next to Tom’s bed. He lay down, closing his eyes and listening to the dull thumping beat of Y/N’s heart.

All that happened last year. Y/N’s body was never found and Hogwarts lost a bright student. Tom’s friends could never hear Y/N’s heartbeat but Tom could.

He heard it at night when he was cramming in some late night study.

He heard it when he was kissing another girl in his bed and it reminded him of who his heart belonged to.

He heard it as he descended into a dark madness that not even Dumbledore could stop.

And he heard it as he yelled the very same spell he had yelled at Onyx on that fateful night at Harry Potter. Up in the castle, Y/N’s body still lay shoved deep under.

As Tom Riddle, now known as Voldemort, faded into nothing, he could hear Y/N’s heartbeat get louder and louder and he was reminded of what he had done to the sweet Hufflepuff.

That was her last Christmas and she had spent it under the floor, dead but not fully, never to be found or seen or heard from again.

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart… but the very next day you stuffed it underneath the floorboards with the rest of my corpse until the sound of my heartbeat intensified your descent into madness.”