#i would've had this one days before but i screwed up the file and had to clean up so much

[blizzoops]

One Punch Kirin. All fear Da Fister's wife.

[munsster]

fixer upper

A/N: IM ACTUALLY SO EMBARASSED TO ADMIT THIS IS BASED ON ‘FIXER UPPER’ FROM FROZEN 💀💀💀 does that mean it counts as a song fic…….. (gif creds: @buckysbarnes)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)

Summary: The kids aren’t saying you can change him, per se. They’re only saying that love’s a force that’s powerful and strange. 2.8k words

Warnings: fluff, babygirl steve, cursing, mentions of toxic (?) relationship, hopeless pining, pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting

Steve can barely see through his rose-tinted daydream, but he's sure he recognizes your smile as soon as you enter the food court. And you lead a trail of whiny teenagers right to his register. This is the fourth time this week you've heard about Steve's lusturous hair and dazzling eyes. You have to hand it to them, they're not bad salesmen, just a tad young to elicit ethos. What the hell do they know about love anyway.

That's what happens when you're licensed and free on a Friday afternoon: babysitting duty. Now, in the event that Steve had been the one saddled with the party on his day off, he would've argued that they're not really babies and they should be self-sufficient. Knowing Dustin, however, this argument proves to be false almost every time.

But it wasn't Steve, it was you. Steve doesn't think he's heard you complain about one thing in your life.

Not even your deadbeat boyfriend called Brad. Who, as Dustin and Max and Robin love to remind him, is utterly replaceable and on thin ice every other week. Steve knows better than to get his hopes up after three months of having them crushed, though. He's learned to live with the strong sense of yearning he feels whenever you're within thirty feet of him.

Take now, for example: you're coralling half a dozen brats into a somewhat single-file line without even having to raise your voice. He should think it's impressive, but he's too distracted by your lip gloss and your voice and the way you did your hair today.

"I hope you give discounts to distressed young women," you tease, brows knitting when you look up at him. This is the part where he's supposed to respond with something charming. Sexy and charismatic, maybe.

"Oh, uh," he chuckles, "No, I mean, yeah. Sure"—Oh, but you smile at him and all that pent up charisma flies out the neon-framed sliding doors. They chatter out their orders at lightning speed, and he can barely catch half of what they're saying when you look at him like that. You finally make it to the register and pay half price. And your cone is always on the house, of course.

"Isn't he such a gentleman?" Max says unenthusiastically. Lucas elbows her side before retreating with Dustin.

"He's also a great driver!" Will chirps, shuffling away to one of the booths with Mike and El who giggle the whole way there. You turn back to Steve who stares off at them incredulously.

"You see what I have to deal with?" you say with some degree of affection for the chaos.

"Aw, come on," Steve says, tilting his head with a shrug, "you love it."

"I think they keep forgetting I already have a boyfriend."

Not much of a boyfriend if you ask me, he thinks.

But what he says: "Ah, yes. The elusive Brad."

You roll your eyes and grin at him. You know Steve has a crush on you. Or else the kids and Robin wouldn't be so adamant on marketing him to you. It's sweet, really. And honestly, you don't think Steve's unfit to play boyfriend or anything, but you're also not disloyal.

Your scoop melts down the side of the cone between your fingers. Steve nearly hurls himself across the counter handing you a thick stack of napkins.

"Shit, thanks," you huff, lapping at the stream of sticky ice cream. His stomach churns as his face screws into a sickly smile.

"Yeah. No problem."

"No, really"—you wrap a napkin around the cone, shoving the rest into your pocket—"I don't know what I'd do if I had to pay the entire bill everytime one of them had a craving."

"Really, it's not a problem," he shrugs it off like it doesn't come out of his paycheck. "I like helping out pretty girls when I can."

You giggle and tilt your head. "Steve Harrington, you're my hero."

He's almost embarassed at how fast his face flushes red hot and frantic. He reaches for the back of his neck on impulse, and any attempt he makes at seeming suave is foiled by Robin patting him on the shoulder.

"If you think that's heroic, there was this one time he singlehandedly saved Hawkins with this sick baseball bat with nails—"

He huffs, "Robin—"

"No, seriously! Don't be so modest, Steve, you're selling yourself short!"

"I'm not trying to sell myself at all!" he says, turning her around and guiding her towards the door to the back room.

"Great seeing you!" she hollers over her shoulder just before disappearing behind the swinging door. You wave with a chuckle. Steve tuts, fixing his sailor hat and shaking his head.

"Did you really do all that? Save Hawkins, I mean?" you ask. And you seem genuinely interested which is why it guts him. The one girl who actually gives a shit is coincidentally unavailable.

"Yeah," he says, shrugging, "but only to clear my conscience. It's like penance, or whatever."

You giggle, not sure if he's being truthful or playing it off. He meets your eyes and he's sure his heart stops dead in his chest for a beat. Nobody pulls off mall lighting like you.

The kids come skipping back to the counter, declaring they've all got different wants and needs around the mall for the next few hours.

"Okay, hold on, I promised I'd have you guys back before my date," you say, Steve overseeing the conversation from over your shoulder.

"Well," he interjects, "when's your date?" All the attention shifts to Steve, and he suddenly wishes he could swallow up the words and take them back for good.

"Two hours from now. Across town," you say, looking a little guilty knowing he's about to make the kindest offer of the year.

"I'm off at five, so I can just"—stop talking—"take them home after my shift."

"Steve, really, you don't have to—"

El grins, eyes wide as she whispers in Max's ear.

Steve shakes his head, "Sweetheart, believe me, I want to. Besides, you've already been through enough with the rascals. Go have fun."

You turn to the kids, almost pleading with them to accept Steve's generosity.

"Is that okay with you guys? I don't wanna leave you stranded," you admit.

They nod in agreement, throwing out a couple yes's and sure's. They're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever, but you still feel bad dumping them on Steve like this.

Dustin interrupts: "This really just goes to show how Steve is a great candidate for marriage and other domestic relations. He can be odd at times and he might care too much about his hair, but you can tell by his actions that he would be a very reliable husband, a generous life partner, and—"

"And a great friend," you giggle, trying not to let Dustin get too carried away. You have sat through enough of his speeches for one day. "Now, quit trying to set us up!"

Steve rolls his eyes at the boy. "Seriously, at least wait 'til she's single. Then she can reject me for me."

You whip back to face him with a sour look on your face.

"Steven! That's not—that's rude to yourself," you huff, "Say three nice things."

He chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest and squinting at you.

"You're pretty, I like your shoes, and you smell nice."

"About you!"

"Ohh," he feigns surprise, "No." But you reach across the counter to whack him on the arm with a shocking amount of force. The kids chuckle from behind you. Steve can't help but smile when you raise your brows proudly. "Fine! I am deserving of love, I am great company, and my hair looks particularly shiny today."

"Good," you nod, "I agree. And I have to go, see ya!"

"With which one?" he says, watching you jog out of the store waving. "Wait! Sweetheart? Agree with which one??"

Steve sighs sharply, hands perched decidedly on his hips as his gaze falls flat on the militia of pre teens staring him down.

"What do you want?" he says.

"You're hopeless," Max says, mouth pressed in a hard line before she wanders off, arm-in-arm with El.

"Yeah, dude. And kinda desperate," Mike shrugs.

"Hey," he grumbles. Who knew such harsh words could come from such little humans. You'd think they'd be harmless at this age. You'd be wrong. 

"You're a total virgin," Dustin says, very matter-of-factly.

Steve cocks a brow, honestly trying not to laugh at the severity of Dustin's demeanor when he says it. "I don't even think you know what that means."

Dustin blinks. "Well, I think you haven't had sex in long enough that you qualify as one."

"Shit."

...

Much to Steve’s surprise, it only takes butthead Brad two more weeks to absolutely shatter your heart. No one knows the complete details other than it happened at a frat party and you had to walk back to the dorms alone. But Steve doesn’t need complete details to know he wants to shatter Brad’s jaw with his fist.

But he also vowed to use means other than violence to get his point across. He should be awarded for the amount of restraint it took to see your bloodshot eyes and not speed immediately off towards Asshole University like a Brad-seeking atomic missile.

Of course, he’s thankful you felt comfortable enough to call him. In fact, he was the first one you rang. And he knows this fact because you told him while you were sniffling away tears a week and a half after the break up.

Now, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his beemer, curled into your sweater, and listening to late night soft rock radio while he focuses on the dark highway ahead of him. You hadn’t wanted to do anything else but sit in his car and think. His heart clenches everytime you wipe away a tear with your soggy sleeve.

He pulls off the highway during an ad break, finding a secluded diner surrounded by nothing but trees and gas stations. He pulls into a parking spot near the back of the lot where the overhead lights aren’t blinding, but you aren’t completely in the dark. He leaves the car on so the cold doesn’t seep in, engine still purring softly from under the hood.

“Who needs ‘em,” he says in attempt to lighten the mood. “Being single is way cooler. Take it from me. You get a bed all to yourself and you can fart whenever you want.”

You’re frowning, but you know he means well. You just can’t help the fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Oh, come here,” he whispers, leaning over the center console and dipping his hands over your shoulder and around your waist. His arms feel so strong and so warm where they envelop you entirely. Steve always was the best hug you ever receieved.

You can’t help but chuckle wetly into his collar after a moment.

“God, he was such an asshole, wasn’t he?”

“Uh, duh! Doesn’t take a genius to…” Steve laughs, pausing and brushing the hair away from your damp cheeks. “I know, sweetheart, and you deserve heaps better. You were always way too cool for that loser.”

You blink up at him in the low light. There’s a kind of twinkle in your eye that makes the tips of his ears hot. This time, you reach for him, weaving your arms beneath his jacket with a deep sigh. Your breathing slows against his neck, and he rubs your back while your arms tighten a little around his waist.

He can’t help but wonder what you’re thinking whenever you look at him with your doe eyes, seemingly sweet and far too inquisitive. He knows you’re probably just looking, maybe thinking of something else. But the hopeless romantic in him rattles his rib cage and shouts you might actually consider him this time.

“Wanna go get shakes? On me,” he whispers. You sniffle, wiping your aching nose on the cuff of your sleeve.

“I can pay for myself,” you tease, popping open the car door when he cuts the engine.

“Nope! Sorry, I don’t let girls pay, remember? Super sexist, I know. Plus the whole pretty privilege thing. Honestly, I should just be paying you at this point,” he says, hooking his arm around your back and feeling yours reach for his shoulder as you march towards the diner.

“I agree, rich boy,” you chuckle, “Reparations are in order for wrongdoings on behalf of your sex.”

He chuckles. He’s absolutely head over heels.

The waitress seats you at a cozy booth in the corner and makes a casual comment about the cute couple, asking how long you two have been together. Steve flounders at the question, flustered and pink in the face.

“Oh, we’re actually… not together,” you say, laughing awkwardly when she pouts and, again, remarks on how cute you’d be together. You order shakes for the both of you before perching your chin in your hand. Steve’s still reeling when the waitress walks away.

“Funny. We can’t even escape the third-degree from complete strangers,” you tease, winking at him from just a few feet away. Jesus, he’d think you were trying to kill him if you didn’t seem so lighthearted and playful.

“Yeah, pretty funny,” he sighs. And he’s probably being so obvious. Or maybe that’s how he is all of the time, so his heart eyes seem subtle. Or it’s obvious all of the time.

The waitress slides the shakes in front of you, and the bright red cherries sink further into the whipped cream.

“You know,” you murmur between sips, “I always thought you were pretty cute.”

He nearly chokes on his mouthful of chocolate malt, clearing his throat and trying not to crumble in on himself.

“Oh. Yeah, I get that a lot,” he huffs, “Mostly from little old ladies, but—Hey!”

You flick him and say, “Really! I know it’s not couth considering… Brad and all, but…”

“You’re being facetious,” Steve accuses.

“No—”

“Sarcastic!”

“Steve—”

“Ironic?”

“Try serious!” you hum, “I’m just saying, you’re very handsome. I was shocked to learn you were single when we first met.”

Steve’s blushing and puffing trying to maintain eye contact.

“What can I say? I’m just,” he huffs, “I’m not really worried about it.”

You tilt your head. “You’re not?”

“Nah. I know the right girl will find me in the end. Even if it takes a while. I don’t mind waiting for the right one.”

You settle back in the padded seat, wincing when it squeals beneath you. It makes you feel a little dejected, but you suppose he’s right. Especially because he seems so confident. So sure. It’s admirable. You want to be that sure of soulmates and love and the future.

“I feel the same way,” you whisper. He finishes off the rest of his glass with a smile.

“Though, it doesn’t exactly help having a bunch of little shitheads telling you to go get laid all the time,” he laughs.

“Oh, yeah, tell me about it” you lean in, “Just break up with him, steve is so much nicer. Dump that loser. Steve has a big crush on you.”

“They said that?” Steve’s not dumb, he’s sure you know by now, but he thought it was all conjecture. They will be hearing about this next time they want free ice cream.

“Yeah, that was like their main point. But I know with all the love in my heart they’re all full of shit.”

You shrug, and he chuckles dryly. He can’t decide whether you knowing is for better or for worse.

“Yeah,” he sighs.

Steve drives you home. You fall asleep in the car, and he keeps the radio low so as not to wake you. By the time he pulls into your driveway, he doesn’t care about the time or the fact that he lives far. He does, however, care about the way you smile lazily and peck his cheek in thanks.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

He says it but he wants to tell you what he’s feeling. He wants to ask if you’re over Brad. He knows you’re not and that’s okay, but he wants to ask if he can hold your hand to keep it warm. He wants to ask what kind of flowers you like and if it would be okay for him to drop them off on your doorstep tomorrow. He has so much he wants to say and do, but he doesn’t want to suffocate you.

He doesn’t know that you wouldn’t mind him asking.

more like this

masterlist

[kandlewick]

ace trappola and deuce spade; the company's new hires and your new underlings office au, aged up au, gn reader

ace trappola - the lucky kouhai

It was unbelievably unfair how good Ace was at doing his job. It was frustrating watching him pull solutions out of his ass like they were simple answers that nobody was smart enough to come up with. He had just started this job and your boss was already singing his praises! And of course, Ace Trappola couldn't have been a humble guy, oh no, this guy was cocky. He soaked up all the praise like a damn kitchen sponge and walked around the office like he was a lucky charm.

The only lucky he was was lucky that nobody in the office wanted him DEAD.

Ahem.

Anyways, while you both were rarely ever in the same social circle in the office, it was only a matter of time before wires crossed and you two were slapped together on a project. A big project. Something the boss wanted to be absolutely perfect. And what was perfect for the job? His Ace (ha ha, get it! He would belly laugh with beer in hand at the faculty drinking parties) and you, his most trusted advisor. It would've been a fine assignment if Trappola hadn't completely screwed up his half of the job!!!!

"What do you mean it was sent in an email!" He screamed, eyes wide as he frantically dove in to his seat, fingers quickly typing on his keyboard. You could feel the panic and tension rise in the room with every passing second.

"I told you, Ace!" You grabbed the back of his chair and shook it, the wheels groaning in protest, "I told you yesterday over email that your numbers were wrong! What made you think you could use last year's quarters for this years budget! Do you know how much has changed the past few months!!"

Ace quickly hid his head in his hands, too embarrassed to look as you pulled up the email, gesturing at it wildly with your hands, "How are we supposed to turn this in!!"

"Overtime...?"

"UNPAID OVERTIME!!!"

deuce spade - the unlucky kouhai

...sometimes you wonder how Deuce Spade had managed to get hired here. Not that there was anything wrong with his work ethic or his personality but if anything went wrong in the office, it was usually Spade's fault. It was rather heartbreaking actually because you could tell that he worked hard! really hard!! but things just never seemed to work out for him... so for the most part, your colleagues would reduce him to the office gopher, sending him out to get drinks or file paper work, the stuff usually reserved for interns. You could tell that while he appreciated everyone's patience, he was feeling a little upset and bitter about being treated as someone so bottom of the ladder.

And today was one of those days.

It was a humid summer day and it was only exasperated by the office's AC breaking down which left everyone a sweaty and miserable mess. Honestly, you were about to call it quits for the day, more then ready to jump into your shower to wash away all the sweat and grime, but the sound of your boss screaming and the frantic apologies of Deuce were loud enough to startle everyone in the office. You cringed and watched as the man nearly chased the young employee out of this office, slamming the door shut as soon as he managed to slip out. Deuce nearly tripped over his own feet in his effort to get away, dropping his manilla folders and scattering them across the floor.

"There he goes again..." Someone said in a low whisper, "but today of all days? He has the easiest job here and he still manages to screw it up."

"What do you think it was this time? You think he spilt the boss's iced coffee on his paperwork again?"

"I bet he filed something wrong...Seems like an easy enough thing for him to mess up."

You frowned at your coworkers harsh criticisms and watched as the youngest employee bent down to pick up his work. You could tell he was shaking. From tears? or was it anger?

You were quick to drop your things and rushed over to him, ignoring your deskmates as you bent down and began helping, picking up the papers that had managed to scatter out of his arms reach. Deuce watched in barely contained surprise as you handed them over to him, a small smile on your face as you gestured for him to take them.

"Here," You smiled as Deuce reached for the documents in your hand, "Why don't I help you out a bit?"

Deuce's eyes widened at your offer but he was quick to shake his head, his cheeks dotted with a light flush, "Oh no, senpai! I can't ask that of you! I have to work overtime today to make up for the mess I made and I'd feel horrible if you had to be stuck here all night with me..."

You were quick to wave him off although you appreciated his thoughtfulness, "No, really! It's ok! What kind of senpai would I be if I left you by yourself?"

[loganwalkerz]

Ajax x Rorke again,

I'm actually semi proud of this one and maybe will write a part 2? Depends on what everyone's thinkin

Tws: kidnapping, mentions of torture but none, mentions of blood.

Not fully proof read+I'm dyslexic so <3

Also, requests are open if anybody is interested. My inbox should be open, I haven't written smut before, but I can sure try lmao <3

Fic starts now:

Rorke, who doesn't kill Ajax but instead keeps him "safe," locked away from everybody, including the fellow federation who believe Ajax was disposed of.

Rorke has a secret cottage that's hidden from civilians and military because he kinda already planned to take Ajax away from the very first time he laid eyes on the smaller male.

He kept his intentions a secret, though, and just worked his way slowly into Ajax life day by day, making sure Ajax's tasks constantly surrounded the commander and no one else

It was clear ever since they started dating, Rorke became more and more obsessed with the sergeant. Keeping him on a short leash, literally whenever somebody asked about Ajax, it was common for Rorke to respond with "My Ajax is busy," like the man was some sort of possession.

So when it was spread that Rorke apparently shot him, no one thought otherwise. Maybe Rorke got bored of his toy? Maybe Rorke truly went insane and got blood thirsty?

But poor ol Ajax was stuck inside the cottage, one that would've looked like a fairytale if there wasn't for the large chains on the door that prevented Ajaxs escape. The freshlh planted and grown flowers around the front of the cottage, the newly painted white fence that was placed around the cottage. The interior decorations were something out of a dream. It was warm and cosy, just like a home should be, right? The tinted windows and the stained glass that glew as the sun hits it, creating colours on the wooden floor.

Ajax could break a window and run, but in reality, he knew there would be nowhere to go for miles. And he has a sneaking suspicion that anybody nearby probably was on Rorkes side anyway. They'd call Gabriel and give him Ajax location and he'd probably get there before Ajax escaped.

Even before he'd find people, Ajax would probably get lost in the woods that Rorke knew like the back of his hand.

He was just stuck alone until Rorke would come back and tell him all about the missions and how he's still hunting the Ghosts, how he's so close to being successful now that Elias is out of the picture. It almost makes Ajax wonder if Rorke was ever the person he fell in love with in the first place. But who knows? Maybe deep down, Gabriel Rorke was still that stern yet caring commander Ajax remembers all those years ago. Maybe it's all a plot for Rorke to take down the federation? Or maybe Ajax was just hoping for the best as perusal.

The next time Rorke came home, he had been gone for a good few weeks, and Ajax had been bored out of his mind. When Rorke comes in with blood, Ajax assumes he got hurt during a mission, or he somehow got punished by the Federation for screwing something up.

But what he didn't expect was for Rorke to reveal the most dreaded news Ajax could think of.

Rorke had been successful in capturing Logan. The blood didn't belong to Rorke, but the teammate Ajax used to care for like a little brother.

It made Ajax blood boil and feeling like he could vomit knowing exactly what was probably happening to the poor boy. He's read the files about what the federation done to Rorke. He had been there to comfort Elias throughout all the guilt and pain of the past. It was the same files Ajax had read every night crying, wondering if his boyfriend would ever come out alive.

And by the looks of it, Rorke didn't. At least not the Rorke that Ajax remembers, Ajax knows that man died inside that pit. The very same pit Logan was now stuck inside

But there was nothing Ajax could do or say that would change Rorkes mind. Especially not with how possessed Rorke is, like a different man wearing the skin of the commander. This new man was insane and crazy. He knew Rorke had eyes on him at all times. From security cameras placed outside the home in every direction to Cameras disguised as teddy's or other items around the inside of the cottage in every room.

But Ajax did have one idea, one that could possibly save Logan's life. It was a stupid foolish one that probably would end with hell rising and the end times staring, but Ajax didn't care. He was desperate for Logan's safety and return to his brother.

"Let the kid go, and I'll marry you, I know that's what you've been wanting. I've seen you looking at rings online. I've seen your diary and wedding planner, i know what you want." Ajax announced one day during dinner.

The two sat on opposite sides of the table, and a staring contest began as Ajax poked at the food. He's still nervous about eating in case Rorke laced the delicious smelling dinner with something

"Logan goes free, and you get me fully. We can have a big or quiet wedding. We can invite whoever you want and it can be wherever you want. But you gotta let that kid go"

Ajax says with a firm voice, the firmest he's sounded since he originally was trapped inside the cottage and was constantly fighting against Rorke.

And Ajax doesn't miss the way Rorke's eyes lit up as Ajax offers this new deal, cutting into the finely cooked steak with almost a smirk crawling upon the usually blank cold face.

"...I'll think about it,"

Rorke replied smoothly, acting like he wasn't bothered by the offer, like he didn't feel his heart pick up in beats or the weird giddy feeling in his stomach like a high school boy who just had his first kiss.

But Ajax knows Rorke's already made up his mind. He's just playing hard to get like always. Just like when they were younger. He knows Rorke is going to say yes. He also knows Rorke will need to plan this properly so the federation keeps off Rorkes back and clueless about the cottage and Ajax presence

"Well..don't keep me waiting"

Was all Ajax said as he pushed his plate away and simply walked to the bedroom, leaving the grinning commander behind

[simperoniandcheese]

The One Time I Wasn't There - Part 3 (oh my god someone pinch me) - The Fact That He's Always Been Here Scares Me (whump, please read de tags!)

A cloud.

Her mind was in an isolated cloud, alone, up where the air was thin enough to kill.

She would've preferred it that way. But try as she might, Cora considered herself to be severely lacking in the 'luck' department.

Except for when she found the family that took her in and invited her for dinner and made her feel emotion again.

19 year old Cora Vasquez, if asked what she would be doing once she had a day off, would scoff in the asker's face, fill her calendar up with work, work, and more work just to let people know that she was fine, thank you very much.

Because, after everything that she'd gone through, why should she let anyone in? If she trusted, she believed she'd lose everything.

And she still believes it now. Just less.

That year, Cora spent her Christmas looking out of the coffee shop's window at the families passing by, wrenching her gaze away from the wooly mittens of the children, or the snow-bitten but smiling faces of their parents.

And she's been chasing after so many unreachable things that she hasn't paid any attention to the things that really matter.

The squad and all the jokes, gags and fake blackmail they had accumulated over the years.

When Ryan brought his new cat in and the whole room went to chaos.

Burl's leaving party, and how it was extended a whole week because nobody wanted him to retire, and "leave us with the choir boy!".

The little clump of girls that worked in the force that gathered every Friday at Farrell's for drinks. Somehow, a handful of guys would be dragged along with them. Cora didn't think she'd ever get to see or hear her own boss do an impression of 'Total Eclipse Of The Heart' on the old karaoke machine.

She loved it though, regardless. TJ was just an angel, and she loved it.

She loved him.

She'd taken so long to realise that the coffees he refused to let her pay for, the sideways glances when he thought she was looking at the case files, the warm smiles, all of it was for her.

TJ Caruso was a pain in the ass, but he was also her closest friend, her mentor, and (even if she hated it) he was and had her whole heart.

She just didn't know how to express it anymore.

It had been 3 weeks, and the staff had informed everyone that today would likely be her last day in anesthesia because of the thinning they'd commenced in the meds about 5 days ago.

And TJ was working late that evening.

The night before, he'd (like every day since the shooting) gone to talk to her about everything and nothing at the same time. How all the detectives and officers were doing, stories that his father had told his friends too many times to count, how his day was going (she'd definitely laugh at this)

He'd been researching all the information he could find on induced comas, and other related things, so he didn't screw up and could help her the best he could. She deserved only the best, after all, she was the definition of best in his opinion.

Smart, funny, and god, if he looked too many times at her on a normal day, he'd usually be wound up for the rest of their shifts.

Is that bad? It's probably bad. Oh dear.

TJ swiped the weariness out of his eyes with the back of his hand, resettling on his desk chair to get a better angle of the witness's hastily-scribbled report.

He'd have to re-assess it in the morning.

She winced as the iron-tang of blood hit her in the face, and as she looked slowly, drowsily down at her body, where a swathe of bandage was secured around her waist down to her stomach, the other stretch of white which was on her arm being eased off by a stressed looking nurse, and she jolted her head away, fighting her gag reflex as red skin peeled away from the single yellowish, angry sore that must've been one of the places she'd gotten shot.

"Can I have some water?" She cringed as her raspy voice reached her ears, and started to cough violently.

"You're awake!" The nurse perked up a little, then upon hearing Cora's condition, she blanched.

"Hold on, let me just, Callie!" she got up off her knees, calling for who was presumably the other late-shifter assigned to this ward.

A head popped around the curtains, and the nurse who was changing the dressings motioned something with her hands, and Callie took off again, nodding.

"Was that..Is she deaf? I hope you don't mind me asking," Cora asked with wide eyes, her face alight in interest.

"No, Callie is just mute, the kind soul, so we use ASL here to communicate with them and also it's kind of easier to gesture than to speak." The woman smiled. "Ooh, I was also going to say, there was a young man at the front desk asking to see you a few hours ago, he looked so worried, poor thing..."

She sharply looked up from picking her fingernails, a jolt of surprise zipping through her nerves as she stared at the nurse.

"Is that..alright? We can send him away, so many women here get visitors-"

"No, no please don't. Can you um, possibly let him in as soon as you can? I really need to tell him something, before it's too late and I fuck up again." Cora half-begged, not caring if her nerves showed through her voice. She'd had enough of holding her tongue anyway.

Callie returned, her curly red hair falling slightly out of place as she lowered down to give Cora the water, and a mutual smile of gratitude was shared between them before she stepped back into the seat of her desk, her eyes trained on the screen as it lit up her face in the midnight lighting.

"I can maybe ask around for you in a few hours, I think you should get some rest while you can, First, before that happens, I need to change your dressings." She answered warmly from the other side of the room, where she was dropping the used equipment into a yellow bag.

Cora nodded, tapping on the small cannula that snaked off the bed, behind her, where it connected to a small bag of what looked like water, even though it clearly wasn't water.

As the nurse came over, she took Cora's forearm in her hands affably, and in a second or two, there was a fresh sheet of cloth on her wound, the sting of ointment felt easily beneath the layer.

"Right, so I'm not trying to be weird, but since the other bandage is around your torso, I'm going to need you to loosen and pull down your gown,"

"Oh, okay. Also, I was wondering, what's your name, so I can stop referring to you as 'kind woman'?"

The lady laughed a little, her eyes crinkling at the sides, easily visible even through the lack of light.

She looked a little bit like Cora, if she was going to say anything about it, minus her bleached hair tips and her long high-ponytail.

"It's Frieda, but lots of people find that weird, so just Freya if you're one of those people." She smiled, looking back at Cora as the curtains were drawn quickly.

As she untied the small knot in the back of her hospital clothing, Cora looked the other way awkwardly as the nurse produced an intimidating roll of fresh cloth, covering her chest with her hands.

Sooner than she'd thought, the cold sensation of the ointment on her overheated skin made her stomach flip, and she let out a small, surprised yelp, at the amusement of Frieda, who was focused on her patient's side.

She was muttering words under her breath as she worked, even if Cora wasn't looking her way, she silently wondered how working in a hospital would be different from working in the squad. Did they have the same kind of banter? Was it harder on your mental health?

Most of all, did the nurses fall in love with their boss?

That was a weird question.

As soon as the bandage had been secured around her waist and lower chest, she got to work, busying herself with the strings of the gown as Frieda once again returned to the yellow bag, then checked on the IV drip.

"I'll just go now and tell your poor friend he can see you," Frieda announced airily as she opened the curtains, and the light, as little as it was, poured in. Cora gulped, hoping she wouldn't start crying like she had the last time she'd been as low as she was.

Which, funnily enough, she hadn't even apologized for.

She'd been angry at everything that night, not to mention tired, still drowsy from whatever Warren put in the champagne, and she'd taken it out on poor Anthony, who'd just been trying to help. She failed to ask his dad where his son had been when the reception took place, eventually finding out that he went through something that was probably worse than what she had from the grapevine of chatter that circulated around the offices, since TJ was conveniently ushered out of the room whenever she came into it by anyone who was there at the time.

But despite TJ's physical presence (and the warmth and light and love he brought) being absent from the too-long hallways that her boots loved to echo on as she tried to sort her shit out on the walk to and from a taxi (she'd been too terrified to use her car), she'd still think of him.

And it helped chase her demons away for a while.

Wiping her eyes a little, she wondered how far from the ward TJ was, and if she would have any time to bury herself underneath the sheets and sleep.

[livelaughwhump]

Worthless - Part 14

Masterlist | Previous

Content: mention of noncon, mention of objectification, mention of dehumanization, self-deprecation, self-hatred, emotional whump, pet whump, hurt/comfort, emotional breakdown, swearing

If I forgot any content warnings, please let me know

-

"We need to tell you something."

That simple sentence was enough to spark panic in the pit of Lyra's stomach. They'd only been gone for three days, and from what they had seen, nothing was out of the ordinary; the safe house was still standing, no one was hurt, Elliot seemed to be more comfortable around the other team members. Lyra hoped that whatever their teammates wanted to tell them was good news, but based on the looks on their faces, they weren't going to be so lucky.

Karine glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the living room, where Elliot was. "Can we come in?" She asked.

Lyra hesitated before nodded reluctantly. They opened the door and allowed their teammates to enter, anxiety and uncertainty dancing in their stomach. This was about Elliot. They knew it had to be about Elliot. Why else would Karine be so reluctant to say anything when Elliot was within earshot?

A million and one thoughts ran through Lyra's mind as they closed the door and faced their teammates. "Tell me."

. . .

Elliot wasn't stupid, despite what he thought about himself. He noticed when Karine, Yvonne, Landon, and Broderick all filed into Lyra's room. He heard Karine say that they needed to talk to Lyra. He couldn't hear any of what they were saying on the other side of the door, but he suspected that they were talking about him. Why else would he be the only one excluded?

They're probably telling Lyra all about what a bad slave you were while she was gone. They're probably trying to decide what to do with you now that they know you're incapable of doing anything right

Elliot felt his stomach drop at the thought. He had tried so hard to be good, but it just wasn't good enough. He wasn't good enough.

Suddenly, Elliot didn't feel like waiting for Lyra anymore. He pushed himself off of the couch and plodded into his dark room, dragging his feet as he did so. Darkness flooded the room when he closed the door, and he instantly turned on his bedside lamp, breathing a sigh of relief as dull yellow light broke through the darkness. He wasn't a big fan of the dark. It reminded him too much of Christian's basement.

Elliot sat atop his messy bed, his eyes fixated on the floor. Lyra's room was directly beside his, and he could hear muffled voices speaking rather loudly, but he couldn't make out any of what they were saying. That was probably for the best, though. If they wanted him to hear, they would've invited him to join the conversation. Instead, he was all alone again, listening to his friends tell Lyra all about what a screw-up he was.

What's wrong with me? Why can't I just be good enough?

Elliot pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face between them, trying to block out the sound his friends' muffled voices.

. . .

Lyra's head was full of fog and all they could see was red. Their heart felt like it had stopped beating when the team explained what they'd found out.

Lyra stumbled backwards until they reached their bed, sitting atop it and forcing themself to take a breath.

"Are you okay?" Yvonne asked, fidgeting with her hands.

Lyra didn't know how to answer. They didn't know why they were surprised, either. They had known what Christian was capable of, that's why they'd kicked him out.

Tears welled in Lyra's eyes. "This...is the one thing...we tried to protect him from," they whispered. "How-How can we call ourselves a team when...we can't even protect one of our own members?" The rest of the team was silent. Lyra scoffed. "No wonder he doesn't see himself as human anymore. He was treated like nothing but a toy. He-He was used and abused and then thrown into the basement like garbage! And when he wasn't treated like an object, he was treated like a fucking dog!"

"Lyra," Karine began, but Lyra ignored her.

"We let-We let that rapist into our house! We let him eat with us and go on missions with us! We were his friends!" By now, Lyra's tears had begun steadily flowing down their face. "We let him hurt Elliot for years! What kind of friends are we?" Their voice broke and they buried their face in their hands. They sniffled and sobbed, but no one else in the room made a move to comfort them. "This is all my fault," they sobbed. "I should've seen what was going on. I should've noticed what that-that monster was doing to him."

"It wasn't your fault," Landon finally said. Lyra lifted their bloodshot eyes to meet his. "It wasn't anyone's fault but Christian's. He was the one that hurt Elliot, not any of you."

"Still," Karine said. "Lyra's right. We should've seen what was going on. Christian harassed Elliot for two years and we never noticed. If we had noticed sooner..."

"What's done is done," Landon interrupted. "We can't change what happened. All we can do is be there for him, and right now, he's all alone, probably wondering why we're excluding him."

Lyra sniffled and scrubbed at their tears. "You're right," they said, pushing themself off of the bed. "I'll go see how he's doing."

"Lyra," Karine said as Lyra began to walk out the door. "Please, don't treat him any differently because of this."

Lyra shook their head. "I won't. This doesn't change anything but make me hate Christian even more than I already did." With that, all five of them filed out of the room.

. . .

Elliot hugged his comforter around his thin body, shivering. Ever since he'd been rescued, he had struggled keeping warm, especially when he was alone. His lamp was still on. He didn't want to turn it off. Light was a luxury he had been denied for so long, and he wasn't ready to give it up yet.

The sound of his doorknob turning startled him, and he whimpered as he curled into a fetal position beneath his blankets. When the door opened, Lyra peeked their head in and smiled. "Hey, sunshine. What are you doing in here? I thought we were all gonna hang out in the living room."

Elliot shifted beneath his comforter, unable to bring himself to look them in the eye. "I'm sorry, L-Lyra," he said. His voice was so quiet and broken. He felt pathetic. "I-I saw the team go into your-your room, and I thought...th-that you didn't want to-to be around me anymore." Lyra didn't say anything, which only confirmed Elliot's suspicions.

Lyra sighed and Elliot suppressed a flinch. "May I come in?" Elliot gave a gentle nod and Lyra slowly entered the room, closing the door behind her. She stood at the foot of his bed, simply watching him with sympathy in her eyes. "Can I ask you a question?" She asked. He nodded again. "Why do you assume no one wants to be around you?"

The question made Elliot freeze. He knew the answer, but he didn't know how to put it into words without bursting into tears. Elliot pushed himself into a sitting position and wrapped his thin arms around his knees. "B-Because, I-I know how much you miss...him."

Lyra furrowed their brows in confusion. "Who? Christian?" They exclaimed.

Elliot flinched and shook his head. "The-The old Elliot," he clarified. Lyra's expression softened. Elliot sniffled, tears stinging the edge of his vision. "I-I can see it every time you look at me, a-any of you. You wish you were looking at him."

Lyra didn't know what to say, her words completely escaping her. "Elliot..." she whispered.

Elliot refused to meet her gaze as his eyes grew misty and his lower lip started trembling. "I-I'm trying...I'm trying so hard, but-but I'm just not good enough, and I'm-I'm so sorry, Lyra. I'm sorry I'm not good enough."

"Oh, Elliot," she said, quickly maneuvering to his side. "You are good enough. We are so unbelievably happy that you're here and that you're alive and safe. We love you!"

"You-You hate me, all of you! You hate that you found me instead of him! You don't want me! I'm nothing but a disappointment!" Elliot burst into a fit of loud, open-mouth sobbing. He buried his face between his knees, his shoulders trembling. "No one could ever love me," he mumbled. "I'm worthless."

Tears started to slip down Lyra's face. She sniffled and wiped away her tears, but they didn't stop. "You're not worthless," they assured him. They desperately wanted to hug him, but they didn't know if that was what he needed in that moment. They didn't know what to do. "You're not a disappointment, Elliot. When I was gone, all I could think about was coming home to you. I missed you so much and I was so worried, I could hardly focus on the mission." Elliot didn't say anything, nor did his sobbing cease. "I didn't know you felt this way. I'm so sorry, sunshine." Instead of hugging him, Lyra settled on simply rubbing his back.

Elliot flinched and glanced up. His eyes were red-rimmed and overflowing with tears. "Do-Do you wish I was still the-the old Elliot?"

Lyra hesitated. "Well...if you're asking if I wish you hadn't been kidnapped, then of course I do. You were treated so horribly by a terrible, awful person. You went through so much. I can't even begin to understand what that monster did to you, but you've been so brave these past few weeks, especially since I've been gone. I'm so proud of you."

That only seemed to make Elliot cry harder. He clamped his eyes shut and frantically shook his head. "No, no, no," he sobbed. "I've been bad and-and I shouted at you. I-I don't deserve your kindness. I'm not brave. I'm stupid and ugly and worthless. I deserve to be p-punished. Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because I love you. You're my favorite person in the world..."

"No," Elliot sobbed. He threw himself onto the floor and curled into a small, pathetic ball in the corner of the room. "You don't l-love me. No-No one can l-love me. You love the old Elliot! I'm too broken to be loved!" Elliot buried his face in his hands and wept.

Lyra didn't know what to do. They had never seen him like this, so obviously in pain. They didn't know what to do. In all their years of taking care of Elliot, they had never seen him so broken and distraught. It was heart-breaking. They couldn't help but wonder if the rest of the team could hear what was going on. What were they thinking?

Eventually, Elliot's hysterics had begun to calm down. He was still crying, but his sobs were no longer as violent. He had lowered his hands away from his face and had opted to wrapping them around himself instead. His eyes were puffy and his whole face was covered his smeared tears and snot. His skin was blotchy. He was shaking and sniffling, and he refused to look at Lyra.

Lyra slowly lowered herself onto the ground, her gaze never leaving Elliot's frail, shaking body. "Are you okay?" She asked, softly. It was a stupid question. He was quite obviously not okay, but Lyra didn't know what else to say in that moment.

Elliot sniffled and gave a gentle nod.

"Would you like me to leave?"

Elliot hesitated before slowly shaking his head.

"Would you like a hug?"

Tears flooded Elliot's eyes again and his lip stuck out as he nodded and threw himself into Lyra's arms. Lyra lovingly wrapped her arms around him, carded her fingers through his greasy hair, and gently rocked him back and forth. He continued to cry into her shoulder as Lyra rested her head on top of his. "It's going to be okay, Elliot," she whispered. "I know you don't believe me yet, but we really do love you, all of us. We don't care that you're not the same person you used to be. We love you no matter who you are."

Elliot sniffled and looked up at her. "You-You're not disappointed in me?" He sounded genuinely confused, like he couldn't fathom not being a disappointment.

Lyra tucked a strand of overgrown, stringy hair behind his ear. "I have never and will never be disappointed in you, sunshine. In fact, I couldn't be more proud of you."

Elliot blushed and looked away from them. "E-Even after the team told you how-how bad I've been?"

Lyra furrowed her brows. "What do you mean?"

Elliot clenched his jaw and sniffled. "When-When the team went into your room to-to talk to you. Weren't they telling you how disobedient and-and annoying I've been?" When the only response Elliot received was silence, he tentatively glanced up at them again.

Lyra tried to school their expression, refusing to let Elliot know what the team had actually told them about. They forced a smile onto their face and shook their head. "No, sunshine. In fact, they were telling me how well you've done this weekend. They were very proud of you."

Elliot didn't believe them, but he wouldn't dare accuse them of lying to him or trying to deceive him. So, he simply nodded and rested his head on their shoulder again. He closed his eyes and took a deep, quivering breath. "I'm s-sorry for sh-shouting, Lyra," he apologized.

Lyra hugged him a little tighter pressed her cheek to the top of his head. "That's all right, sunshine. I know you were just frustrated and upset. I'm not mad at you."

A single tear slipped out of the corner of Elliot's eye. "I don't deserve your kindness and-and patience."

"Of course you do," she whispered, combing his hair with her fingers once more. "You're a good person, Elliot." Elliot stiffened, like he wanted to protest, but refused to. Lyra rubbed calming circles into his back. "Yes, sunshine, you're a person. You're not a dog or a pet or a toy. You're a person and it's only natural for people to feel things. I know, sometimes it hurts and it sucks, but it's also healthy. Keeping it bottled up isn't good for you and all it does is make us worry. You've been through hell. It's only natural for you to be scared and tired and frustrated, but that doesn't make you bad, it just makes you human." Elliot whimpered and snuggled up closer to her. "Don't ever be afraid to cry or scream or shout. No one here will ever judge you for it. And when you're done, we'll all be here to hug you and comfort you until you feel better."

Elliot sniffled. "I-I've just felt so-so alone for so long."

Lyra smiled a pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "You're not alone anymore. You're with your family now, and we are never going to let anything bad happen to you again."

Elliot hiccupped, which made Lyra chuckle. Then, his eyelids started fluttering and a yawn escaped him.

Lyra hummed and said, "I think its time for bed."

Elliot glanced up at her, fear in his eyes. "Please, don't leave me."

She gave his forehead another soft kiss and said, "Never."

-

Ah, the feels

Let's just hope this means Elliot can finally start to heal

Taglist:

@l-antre-des-merveilles @pigeonwhumps @nicolepascaline @burningkittypoet @whumpinggrounds @suffering-and-misery @make-them-scream @honeycollectswhump @rabass

If anyone wants to be added to or removed from the taglist, please let me know!😊

[the-cookies-of-darkness]

*Ultra leans against a rock! hearing a voice in his head not like the normal thoughts!* Syntax: why are you resisting? Ultra: shut up, I won't let you- Syntax: hurt innocent people? if they get in my way they're not innocent! and you lecturing me! ME about hurting innocents? Mr enforcer- Ultra: I SAID SHUT UP! Syntax: violently torturing people! mothers, fathers, KIDS of ALL AGES! KILLING some! just cause your boss told ya too? Ultra: we- I had to raise my brother! I didn't have ID, birth records! I couldn't get a legal job- Syntax: taking yourself and your brother offline would've resulted, in less people being hurt! LESS DEAD! Ultra: but then all the- Syntax: good you do would've never happened? what good... WHAT REAL GOOD HAVE YA BROUGHT? cause EVER since you lot came here! you've been a burden! nothing but problems! you know Xaster follows you around! will do ANYTHING to screw with ya! yet you stayed! and put this world in more DIRECT harm, then ya have saved it! everytime you stop him! he ups the game! you JUST cause more people to be hurt!... you caused ME to be hurt! I don't remember who I am! I know I was a darkdroid! from reading my file! but Xaster saw fit to USE me to try'n clone ya! to have better testing dummies! for his plans! ERASED my personality! my memories! PUT yours in its place! who am I? I know who YOU are Ultra! but when I look in a mirror! its YOUR face! when I try to remember! I see YOU! you, you- YOU! I LOST EVERYTHING! EVEN IF IT WASN'T MUCH! I DON'T KNOW CAUSE I CAN'T REMEMBER!, even if you BEAT Xaster! SOMETHING ELSE WILL COME! SO LONG AS YOU EXIST! you BOTH need to die! for peace! *Ultra winces! before looking up at everyone! ONLY to realize THIS whole conversation was broadcast-ed from him! for all to hear! including his statements bout his past! *

"You were lost and confused, and needed money. Good people unfortunately fall into bad things all the time." Bugtrap says, turning into his cookie form to give Ultra a hug. "Sure, bad follows you around, but, honestly, I don't know where we'd be without you"

Red Velvet nods "You've definitely made our lives more interesting. And I will not act like I haven't done bad. I'd rather this where we keep our strength up than having to deal with anon magic all the time. I wouldn't have even considered going to Beast Yeast without your family." he says softly, joining in on the hug. Well, with one arm.

Enchantberus licks Ultra a few times. "I wouldn't even exist without you! Sure, my beginning of life was... painful, but we're living a great life now! Sure, there's some bumps in the road, but we can fight through this!"

"And us fighting through this might be able to convince others to fight through their internal battles. If we can make it through all this fighting and trauma and still have a happy life, then anyone else can, too! Whether their battle is depression, a hard family life, or just a particularly bad day at work" Bugtrap smiles "oh being in cookie form again feels weird..."

"How touching." A familiar-yet-new voice says. "And true, especially Bugtrap's latter half."

[vonev]

Sweets

MW2, Simon “Ghost” RileyxReader fanfiction

A one-shot I dedicated a full night's rest to, amen.

Self-insert, AFAB, she/her pronouns.

Word count, 6230

—”Sweets.”

Everyone in the room turned to Ghost, his word taking a while to register in everyone’s mind.

“Why?” Gaz was the first to bring up the question everyone wanted to ask—he looked at Ghost and tilted his head. 

“She likes sweets,” Ghost muttered.

OR

You slowly fall in love with your first lieutenant in command.

______________________________________________________________

Love was always complicated: one-sided, reciprocated, or none at all.

You recall elementary school days; you had your eyes on a particular boy that sat beside you during classes. You two would always exchange shy glances, and both hands would always be so close yet far. The two of you had been young and naive to the true concept of love. But it had been nice; he would always wave at you after school before being sent home and shared the same table as you during lunch—sharing his food with you as well.

It was the purest form of love, yet so far from the truth of it.

You were transferred to a different school only a month after—something about your mother having an affair with the school principal, and your father had found out. You remember the argument your parents shared at the principal’s office; a couple of other teachers had peaked into the office to get an earful to fuel their gossip later, leaving you awkwardly standing to the side as you held your head down low.

When your father clasped his large palm around your small one and dragged you out of the office, you saw the boy walking around the corner—the two of you shared glances, and without knowing, it would've been the last time you ever saw him again.

He merely waved you an enthusiastic goodbye; the promise of sharing lunches the next day hung on his lips as he watched you leave through the front door with your father in hand.

You had no idea how much it meant to you, not until you recalled the memory years later, whilst enjoying a romance book—the evening dawn basking your figure as you sat in your chair on the balcony. 

“If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.”

For the whole evening that day, you wondered if the boy had ever thought of you, too.

It hadn’t taken long for you to find your next love; it was during secondary school when you were a freshman. 

A surge of gossip circled around a particular sophomore student who won the national basketball championship with his team. It was a big deal, apparently—not to you, but even so, you could applaud his effort to achieve such a feat. 

The way you two met was nothing short of cliche.

You were rushing down the empty school hallway; with a stack of paper sandwiched in a folder, clutched in your arms as you practically flew across the hallway. You rounded a sharp corner, and the next few seconds were a blur—you felt the file filled with papers flying out of your grasp as you landed on your butt, head hitting the corner of the wall; pain started blooming in your temple at the harsh impact.

You let out a string of curses as you registered your situation. 

You bumped into someone, or rather, he bumped into you. 

Your eyes squeezed open as they trailed toward the boy on the floor across from you. He was rubbing the back of his head as he slowly propped himself back up with his elbow; hisses spilt out of him as his eyes shot open. “Hey, you—” his irritated gaze landed on you, and as he took in the imagery in front of him, his eyes softened tenfold.

You tilted your head, hand reaching up to soothe the nagging headache. You were stunned—before remembering the purpose of running down the hallway in the first place.

You were late for class.

Panic ensued—you were totally screwed if you couldn’t attend Mrs Fellot’s class in time. Your arms reached out as you picked up the fallen file and scrambled to retrieve the scattered papers across the ground. You mumbled incoherent ‘oh nos’ and ‘fucks’ under your breath, so busy with collecting the sheets that you hadn’t noticed another hand reaching out, bumping into yours.

Your eyes flickered from the papers to the boy in front of you. His eyes shone a bright green as they pierced deep into your skin, and his lips hung open as though he had words to say. But you only cocked an eyebrow at him and went back to gathering the layer and layer of written scripts from the floor. The boy’s hand froze in place, unknowing of what to do. You stood back up a minute later, and all the papers were now comfortably seated in your file. 

Before you leave the scene, your eyes trail his hunched-over form, and you both share glances at each other as you soon dart away down the hallway. 

You had been late to class that morning.

Mrs Fellot gave you detention for being a minute late to her class, and as a student, you had no choice but to glue your butt to your seat and accept your fate as your classmates gave you looks of pity.

Around lunchtime, the boy from earlier approached your table as you were seen picking and prodding at your food—you had no appetite for the food they provided at school. He invited himself into the seat across from you; you hadn’t even noticed his presence until you heard a snap of his fingers in front of your face. You perked up at the noise, your cautious gaze recognising the pair of bright green ones that faced you. 

Your lips pulled into a sneer as you looked at him, displeased at the event that unfolded that morning. And for that entire lunchtime, you both bantered with each other, throwing light-hearted insults—that wasn’t to say you have forgiven him for the detention you received because of him, but your mood was no longer soured for the rest of the day.

You both found out later that he had gotten detention from his teacher for being late, too.

Detention that day was blissful because he had been there by your side. 

And so, your 9th-grade love story unfolded. 

He would meet you for lunch every day and walk you home from school so he could wave you goodbye at your front door. Once, he had gotten into trouble with his coach because he abandoned his practice just to meet you in the school’s backyard and spend leisure time with you as you both chatted about everything and anything.

It wasn’t until he had confessed his feelings to you one day when you noticed the little things he did—He looked at you with such fondness in his eyes and would become a puddle of gush at your shoulder brushing against his, or whenever you’d lock gaze with him, his eyes would trail toward your lips as you rambled his ears away.

You had your first kiss that day of the confession, behind the school, tucked away in the corner of the backyard that no one knew of—except for the two of you.

After that day, he would frequently drag you to his basketball practice; it was as if he was showing you off to the entire school—putting you on the throne as his one and only queen and he, the king. 

You both were known as the high school sweethearts—many would come to tell the stories of whenever they’d find you huddled away, whispering sweet nothings to each other and giggling at one another’s jokes. 

It had felt like a dream; you both spoke of goals to achieve whilst your fingers would lock together, invading each other’s personal space—but it felt right, and to be honest? It felt as though you both could conquer the world with your love.

The feelings lasted for what felt like an eternity.

As passionate as the love had been—it was fragile. 

Rumours would fly around school about him hanging out with another girl, but you brushed them away and took them as that—rumours.

You had all your trust in him to not betray the love you two shared so intimately.

To be frank, you wore rose-tinted glasses whenever you were around him.

And it wasn’t until one day in your junior year when your best friend pulled you into the restroom and looked at you with worry that swarmed her eyes. 

“He’s cheating on you.”

You almost couldn’t believe it. After all, you both had been together for years by then—2, to be exact. So why would someone, especially him, throw his love for you down the drain? So naturally, your best friend grew frustrated with you, but she never gave up on proving you wrong. Unfortunately for her, your boyfriend at the time had been a slimy bastard. He would be seen with another girl one second and be alone the other—it was difficult to catch him in the act, to say the least.

But it hadn’t taken her long before she thought of a fool-proof plan.

The school’s backyard.

She teamed up with a friend of hers—and it took much convincing to get the other girl involved. First, it took a few days of the girl reaching out to your boyfriend through his social media, then his personal phone number and a couple of sly glances shared with each other in the school’s hallway before he agreed to meet up with her in the backyard.

Specifically, the corner you and him shared over the years.

Your best friend had been delirious when she approached you one day at school; she took your hand before abruptly dragging you along the school hallways and toward the infamous backyard. Of course, you were angry at her; admittedly, you had no idea why she had been trying to prove to you the things that never happened: your boyfriend cheating being the case.

It didn’t take long for your clouded conscience to be shattered.

As it took a quick glance at the little corner of heaven you had been building with your boyfriend over the years to see one of the worst things you had laid your eyes on.

Your boyfriend hunched over another small frame of a girl as he took her in for a kiss.

You were deaf to the gasp that the girl let out. At that moment, it felt like all your senses had been stolen—buried away somewhere you could barely reach with your fingertips. He had turned around at the surprised yelp the girl beneath him let out; following her gaze, it landed on you: the love of his life.

You looked devoided of life, and the pang of hurt he experienced was nothing short of minuscule—it hurt .

It hurt to see you glance into his eyes, the love and tenderness your glances held gone in an instant. It hurt to see you pick up your feet and walk away from the scene, your best friend throwing him dirty looks as she tugged your arm in hers and took you away from him.

He had been angry, had tried chasing after you—but your friend dragged you into the nurse’s office and lost him in the crowd of students in the hall.

For the first time in your friend’s life, she saw you break down. Not with tears, but the mere image of your sunken, depressing gaze and you barely holding your head up high made her almost regret she had shown you anything, almost .

She knew it was the right thing to do, and if the shoes were switched, you would’ve done the same. She loved you, and it pained her to see you losing your spirit for the next month. You barely ate, conversed with others and hadn’t had a good night’s rest for a whole month.

Heartbreak was a bitch.

Throughout the first few months, your ex would attempt to find ways to talk to you: whether it would be during breakfast hours, lunchtime, or even the house parties you attended. He would always be there, stalking your steps and watching your every move. 

It wasn’t until he graduated before you that he stopped bothering you.

And you?

You had hardly shed a tear during post-breakup, and it only took you another half a month before you were back to being, well, you.

Just without the pep in your steps you had when you were in love.

The school years passed by in a blink of an eye, and soon, you were graduating.

You found yourself submitting an application to be enlisted in the military: you wanted to follow in your father’s footsteps, as he had been nothing short of the perfect father figure you could ever ask for. It only had taken a few months before you were mailed a letter from the military: you had been accepted.

The grin you wore as you rushed downstairs and flashed your father the letter you received; he had been so happy that he gave you the tightest hug he could muster. 

You told your best friend, of course. 

You two had stuck through thick and thin during and after secondary school—and even whilst she was in another state studying for college, you both never failed to send each other silly texts; your private messaging app served as a placeholder for her notes, whether it’d be school or just love letters she received from girls over the years.

She was an endearing presence to you, and you swore to her that you would never leave her side as you both grew old.

The love you both shared differed from the previous— whilst passionate and exciting, it had been overwhelming. No, the love you shared with your best friend was one of endearment, respect and understanding. You learnt that love wasn’t only exclusive to one between two significant others but also between those that mattered to you. 

It had been half a decade since you last contacted your best friend.

You two grew apart gradually due to the difficulty of your busy schedules; you both weren’t always able to take the time out of your stressful days to sit down and chat with each other—catch up and whatnot.

The military had been way more stress-inducing than you realised; you worked your ass off to be where you are today—second lieutenant in command.

The first droplet of tears you had was when you were being put through a brutal in-action training course.

You had been sent out to the field with a task force to take care of a local drug ring and were told to eliminate possible threats before they spiral into something worse. That was when you first rode a helicopter, too.

Action sprung into life when the aircraft landed on American soil before your feet had even touched the ground. 

Bullets were flying through the air above you, one barely grazing the skin of your arms as it punctured through the fabric of your uniform. Your captain at the time pulled your team away to a safe spot tucked inside a house that sheltered all of you— most of you.

One of your comrades had gotten caught in the crossfire and died an unfortunate death upon entering the field: bleeding to death. None of you had the time to mourn over her death and hurried away as your captain led you all to an advantageous ground. You were situated on the roof of the building, prone as you teased the trigger of your rifle with your fingertip, your crosshair hovered over an enemy’s head—the perfect shot. 

Whilst you were focused on taking down your target with the precision of a falcon, your team had been ambushed. To none of your knowledge, one of the enemies managed to slip into the building without being spotted and picked you all off one at a time. Although he was soon killed by your captain, more had swarmed the building and overwhelmed your team.

Yet, despite the odds, your team came out on top—skillfully eliminating them a wave at a time. 

You placed a bullet through what you assumed was the last enemy’s head before you turned to your captain—only the two of you remained during the whole combat, the others K.I.A. Though as devastated as you were, you carried out the mission beautifully with the aid of your captain. 

He had his hand on your slumped shoulder, his face prideful as he gave you one of the brightest smiles you’d ever seen.

One moment, you watched as he ruffled your head and gave you a hearty chuckle.

The next, you saw red painted the front of his uniform—right where his heart would be.

You still remembered the weight of his large body as he fell on you like a heavy sack of potatoes, the quiet murmurs you voiced as you let your mind soak the situation. Your captain, dead, with a bullet through his heart. 

His blood, your red-tinted hands as you pushed him to the side and pressed against his wound, the red you saw in your eyes when you felt the shaky barrel of a gun pressed against the back of your head. The red you felt in you when you tackled the enemy to the ground, of the enemy’s blood spilt on the floor, and the red that decorated the child’s head.

The child.

To say you were horrified was a mere understatement.

When you came to your senses, you were beyond mortified .

You murdered a child.

The ache you felt in your heart constantly stabbed at you like a mother’s anguish; you couldn’t imagine your future child suffering the same fate. It pained you; it did.

That night, you mourned over the lives deserving of death—and those that were not.

You recall how you picked up a discarded shovel found on the side of the road, how you carried the body of the child and walked to the garden you found tucked away behind the building, how you worked to dig up the dirt and buried the child. You had taken a look at the child, and from what you could see, he seemed like a sweet one. Your heart had been torn apart at the thought of having to bury a child soldier.

The child soldier you murdered.

You remember calling in for extraction as you sat in the garden near where you had buried the child and sobbed away. The extraction team struggled to find you—and assumed you died whilst calling for them, but one had stumbled upon you, hunched over with your arms hugging your knees, wailing.

You couldn’t stomach food for the next few weeks, only consuming water and sweetened drinks for nutrition—or the lack thereof. Everyone back at the base had said you were cold and distant and would actively refrain from joining fun base activities.

You had even turned down the invitation to go to a bar with others, which, if you had been yourself, you would’ve accepted the invitation in a heartbeat. 

It was a surprise you lasted for weeks without food and still had the energy to be deployed for more missions. And even more surprising when you returned from every task, and all of it had been successful despite the odds you were given.

The news of your spectacular performance reached the ears of many; the higher-ups had gotten a few words of your feat and decided to promote you gradually as you kept on attending missions and completing demanding tasks.

It was how you ended up in Task Force-141.

This force was a strange bunch; you had never seen a team with this many varying personalities collide at many times of the day yet work so well with each other.

When you were told Captain Price wanted to recruit you into his task force, you politely declined the offer at first—not willing to deal with the heavy-hitting tasks they were usually assigned. The news of your rejection had broken out within the base—rumours had flown from ear to ear. It had felt like being back in 9th grade again when most students would engage in gossip in the school’s hallway.

Many had approached you during your free time in pursuit of hurling question after question at you; some of the questions threatened your right to privacy. 

“How’d Captain Price approach you?” 

You had no clue yourself. He asked for your presence in his office one day and offered you the chance.

“Why’d you decline it?”

Because you wanted less of the mental torment and even less of the bloodshed you would have to endure.

“I would’ve taken the chance in a heartbeat if I was you.”

That question felt like a jab at your choice, more than just a simple question.

“Did you think you weren’t good enough?”

You remembered the red mark you left on his face after he had said that to you, feeling the stinging pain in your palm as he rubbed his cheek and cursed at you before lunging forward. But there were eyes, and the eyes moved—he was dragged away soon after before he was able to land a hit on you. 

You hadn’t missed the dirty glances some people stole at you when they thought you weren’t looking.

The second time you had been summoned to Captain Price’s office, his offer to recruit you into his task force was one of desperation. They had been struggling with an ongoing operation, and he explained how your help would greatly benefit the two parties involved: you and the task force.

He even went as far as to drag you to the briefing with his squad the following day; irritation gnawed at your mood as the day would’ve been an off-day for you if it wasn’t for the briefing. 

You had been a few minutes late, but as you placed your hand on the large door, you exhaled and pushed it open.

Eyes immediately fell on you.

Unfamiliar faces stared you down.

You felt like you had barged into the wrong briefing for a second as silence dangled in the air, your eyes searched for Captain Price’s, and it wasn’t long before you found his gaze. Relief washed over you, thanking the heaven above that you were saved from potential embarrassment and greeted Captain Price before taking an unoccupied seat for yourself.

“Hey, that seat’s reserved.” you heard a monotonous tone from your right, and you turned to him. You held his gaze in yours as you bore into him with your staring. He broke away soon after—you noticed his adam's apple bobbed in his throat.

A few seconds later, the door creaked open. 

You adjusted your sight, eyes trailing toward the person that had just entered. 

He was tall, standing at 6’4 in height from what you saw, well-built, and kept to himself as he chose to lean against the wall to his left instead of picking a seat. The whole time you had your eyes on him—his never left yours. And when you caught his gaze in yours, it felt like those sunken, dark eyes of his spoke to you. 

For once in your time, you communicated with someone without spilling a word. 

“Ghost, you’re late.” Price’s voice had severed the tension between you two.

Ghost, huh.

As your eyes found him again, you could understand the meaning behind the callsign.

Those eyes of his never left your mind for quite a while.

It was hard to avoid; you weren’t able to if you had wanted. You had accepted Price’s recruitment offer when he extended it to you once more after the briefing, you agreed with what they had planned, and you promised to carry it out.

Sweets were the callsign they had given to you within the first week of you all working together. You had a keen liking for sweets—and the task force members would occasionally catch you with your hand in a sweets jar more often than not.

You all had a conversation over what your callsign would be, and everyone racked their exhausted brain for ideas until a husky, deep voice put down a suggestion—

—”Sweets.”

Everyone in the room turned to Ghost, his word taking a while to register in everyone’s mind.

“Why?” Gaz was the first to bring up the question everyone wanted to ask—he looked at Ghost and tilted his head. 

“She likes sweets,” Ghost muttered, his eyes lingering on your face before he continued, “Caught her sneaking around the kitchen at midnight looking for sweets more than once this week.” 

Heat flooded your face, and you were sure you resembled the colour of a tomato at how embarrassed you felt being exposed to your comrades. 

“You do, too!” In a poor attempt at biting back, you also called Ghost out on his bullcrap. “You were in the kitchen yesterday night with your head in the sweets cabinet,” you narrowed your eyes at him as he stared at you, almost dumbfounded.

“Because you have been dwindling our sweets supply—” before he could resume, you cut him off. “ You had your hand shoved deep in the choco pie boxes,” you scoffed. “Don’t play dumb, lieutenant.” 

Ghost shrugged at your words, “Gotta finish the sweets before you do—” At that, you stood up from your seat, hand slammed onto the table as you shoved the accusation back at him. “You finished a whole jar of the Cadbury picnic bars. I was saving those for myself, asshole.” 

“Should’ve finished it yourself before I had my hands on them, love.”

“I’ll fucking finish you first—”

“Enough,” Soap had gotten up from his seat at the table, his choice of liquor in his hand as he shook his head at the two of you. “Aye, I’m done with listening to them flirt with each other. Gaz, let’s head out yea?” his words slurred, you were sure whilst you and ghost argued back and forth—he had been taking way too many sips from his bottle. Gaz held his hands up in defeat, then followed Soap out of the kitchen.

Price sat at the end of the table, his head in his hand as he observed the situation in front of him. And when both your gazes fell on him, he felt an immense pressure to get away from the table and escape the kitchen. 

From then on, you started labelling your jars with your callsign—yet as time had proven you right again and again, you could never catch Ghost in the act of stealing from your sweets jar. 

And the time you did—

It rained cats and dogs that night, thunderstruck loud and hard. You always had a difficult time being embraced by sleep, and when it did come, you usually would wake up sweating from a rough nightmare.

Tonight was no exception, and before you knew it, you found yourself walking down the stairs and toward the kitchen. You could use some nice Cadbury chocolate in your mouth right about now. 

But as you steadily approached the kitchen, you noticed the lights were on—and you immediately cling to the wall beside you as you glide along the textured surface. Your head peeked around the corner, eyes searching for any signs of a potential break-in. As you neared the kitchen, however, you spotted a large man sitting at the kitchen bar. He had his back turned to you, and you noticed his exposed hair.

He had no mask on.

You tilt your head at the strange view and clear your throat, alerting him of your presence. He lightly jolted at the noise and shot his hand out to collect his balaclava before pulling it over his head. 

Weird.

Usually, he would’ve been able to sense you even if you had been miles away from where he sat. But tonight, something seemed off. You shrugged and walked into the kitchen, immediately reaching for the sweets cabinet and pulling out one of your favourites: Maltesers. You hummed in glee and grabbed a few more into your hands. 

You turned around and could feel the stress emitting off him like strong tides.

For some reason, the sight of Ghost being sad shot a pang through your chest—as if it had been personal to you.

“Can I sit next to you?” your voice quiet, not wanting to startle the burly man that seemed deep in his thoughts, his head hung low.

You took his silence as a response and sat beside him at the kitchen bar. You tore open the packaging of your sweets and nibbled on it, savouring the taste. You glanced quickly at the man beside you and jumped when you saw that he had been staring at you, having a go at it with the sweets. You didn’t fail to notice the way his eyes flickered from your face to the chocolate in your hand and back to your face.

Amusement flashed across your eyes, and you reached your hand out, offering him the sweets.

It took him a while to react, but after a few more alternating glances, he took the bar from your hand and stared at you. 

“What?” you cocked your eyebrow at his odd reaction.

“Look away, sweetheart.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not gonna bite if you take your mask off in front of me,” you decided to push his buttons further—to fish a reaction out of the man. “Why,” you leaned in, your face now halfway from where you sat. “You’re ugly?”

He chuckled.

Love has a way of finding you.

Wherever you are—whenever you were.

You just hadn’t expected it to manifest in the form of a tough, bulky man who had his heart closed to the world. 

You knew Ghost was a man that preferred to be left alone, but on the occasions, his walls would be down, letting you get a glimpse of who he was. 

And that night, as you both shared bars of chocolate over the kitchen bar, you knew he was worth getting to know about. 

It would happen again and again.

Nights where you both would find yourselves in each other’s company, enjoying the comfortable silence that lingered around. Nights where you both talked about your favourite sweets, music, show—favourite person. 

He had said he didn’t exactly have one, but you had a suspicion you knew who he treasured the most—because it wasn’t a person, it was the entire task force.

You recalled the memories you had with your best friend— ex , best friend. You weren’t sure if she had remembered you still after years of no calls, texts, or wind of each other. But you cherished the sweet moments during the times you needed them. 

Ghost wouldn’t admit it, but when he was with you, he wasn’t Ghost—no, he was Simon whenever you would share trinkets of your memories with each other. His usual uptight demeanour progressively softened over the many nights at the kitchen bar; his eyes would drink in your face as you told your stories. Making mental notes of the way your smile would tug at your lips, the way your eyes would water at the emotional talks, how you seemed to know ways to comfort him with just your presence. 

And whenever each of you felt down, you would seek each other’s company.

You sneezed; the sudden cold air blow sent chills to your core. Ghost’s head snapped toward you, his gaze visibly concerned, and he watched as you cowered underneath the thick blanket you both were sharing. 

You two had been in his room, watching the reruns of Modern Family, when you suddenly felt under the weather. You hadn’t had time to take care of yourself recently—between the assignments you were deployed for and the countless paperwork you had to finish by a tight deadline, you barely had 5 hours of sleep every night for the past weeks.

Ghost had seen it coming from miles away: the darkening eyebags around your eyes, your usual casual nature now dissipated, leaving only a shell of you that operated on a routine.

He let out a long exhale, his arms reaching out to tuck you into the blanket even more. 

But as you peered at him with those fluttering lashes, he groaned and moved to sit behind you. He adjusted his position and laid you down on top of him, your head flushed against his chest—and you refrained from fidgeting as you felt his toned yet soft muscles underneath you.

Your head was screaming.

Yet as he cradled your smaller frame into his larger one, you felt safe—like you belonged. 

You sighed, letting yourself completely relax against him. He placed a hand on your head, rubbing comfort into your temple in the motion of circles. 

Yeah, you could get used to this.

The noises coming from the TV soon gradually muffled as your eyes threatened to close every passing second. The deadly combination of Ghost rubbing all the right spots on your head and his warm, large arms around your figure coarse you into a deep, peaceful slumber.

And ever since then, you’d find yourself in similar positions with Ghost—in his room, him with his arms around you and giving you the comfort you so desperately needed. 

So, here you were.

You and Ghost were wrapped around the two of you underneath the thick blanket. Reruns of the show you were watching had been long forgotten; instead, the two of you looked into each other’s gaze. 

Your hand rubbed small, comforting circles into his cheek—he practically melted under you. It had been about half a year since you joined Task Force-141; after the first mission, you had ultimately decided to stick with the team—strangely enough, they all accepted you as though you were family. 

Sure, missions hadn’t gotten easy over time, but the bonds you managed to kindle made up for all of it. The countless nights all of you would spend losing your minds at a local bar—the constant lighthearted bantering that never seemed to cease. You lost count of how many times you had to drag Soap out of a bar before he went and flirted with anything that moved, the numerous times when you had to pull Gaz out of a dangerous situation during high-risk missions—not to mention whenever Price would go off and try to get himself killed just to save one of you. When you had him seated at the debriefing, you made sure to give him an earful anytime he attempted something idiotic for the lives of others, even if it had been for his team.

But, you would never take one thing for granted—

—Ghost stirred in his position, changing the angle of his body so he could get the optimised comfort. You watched as he nudged your hand with his face; amid your daydreaming, you had stopped caressing his cheek.

You feel the nervousness churning in your stomach, thoroughly giving your following words more thought.

You knew that you had grown feelings for the man for quite a while now—from the joking banter down to the bold flirting you both shared, it was as though every time you were with each other, you had your own bubble.

One that you would be too afraid to pop.

“Ghost–”

“Simon.”

Huh?

Did you hear that right?

Staring into the eyes of the man whose heart had been closed off to everyone—you were in shock. The sight of him finally opening up to you had been unfathomable since you first thought about it—he was a tough man to crack and an even tougher man to understand. 

“My name’s Simon, love.”

His voice was soft as silk, with the undeniable hint of tenderness he reserved only for you as he continued to gaze into your eyes with such a yearning that you couldn’t believe it had been for you. 

Your other hand shakily reached up to cup his face into both hands, feeling the smooth texture of the balaclava he still wore under your fingertips. Your eyes scanned his feature for any deceit—there were none.

He was as genuine as is. 

And you couldn’t help the tear that slipped your eye; you had waited for this moment for quite a while now— 

“Simon,” you took a fleeting breath, “I like you.”

Simon sighed, and for a moment, your calm facade was slowly falling apart—did he change his mind? Had he been lying all this time? But your doubts were short-lived as Simon reached his hand up and lifted his skull-printed balaclava off.

It was him.

The man you adored so much in blood and flesh,

You felt his rough skin with your fingers as you explored every nook and cranny of his face with all that you could. Your finger brushed his lips; they were surprisingly soft and very kissable.

As though he could read your mind, he closed the little distance you both had, and the next thing you know: he had his lips on yours.

Love was always complicated: one-sided, reciprocated, or none at all.

But as you shared an intimate, passionate kiss with Simon.

You knew you had found the one to share your never-ending love with.

And you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

An Inconvenient Affection [Chapter 1]

Summary: When a couples’ therapist is suspected of murdering his own patients, Y/N and Spencer must go undercover as a feuding married couple to draw him out.

A/N:  This is the first part in a series, thank you so much for the response to the teaser! I hope you guys enjoy, and any feedback is always appreciated! ❤️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: alcohol consumption, language, criminal minds typical violence, murder mention, suicide mention, stalking, cheating, please let me know if I've missed anything!

Word Count: 4.4k

Next Chapter 

Series Masterlist

Read it on AO3

Masterlist 

"He's forcing one to kill the other" Spencer mutters under his breath, staring so intently at the photos pinned the the cork board that he must be able to see through them by now.

"Pardon?" Y/N pipes up from her perch at the opposite end of the room, surrounded by imposing stacks of files, photos, newspaper clippings, anything to give her something even resembling a leg up on this case.

Spencer turns sharply on his heel to face the team, his hands contorted as he speaks, "The unsub, he's abducting couples but I think he could be forcing one to kill the other" he states it louder this time, tearing a photo down from the board and walking it over.

"We already know they were killed with the same gun, but why was Mrs. Milton restrained while Mr. Milton wasn't?"

Y/N screws her eyebrows together in confusion, she'd been at the scene and she'd analyzed the photos. Mr. Milton had been restrained. There was another chair at the scene that seemed as though he'd been strapped to it, the bindings were loosened but the general assumption was that he'd managed to free himself before getting shot by the unsub.

"I think our killer untied him" Reid spoke confidently, Y/N liked watching him like this. He could be so shy in his day to day life but there was something about his work that gave him a boost.

"So do you think the same goes for the Stevenson's from 4 months back? What could his motivations be for doing something like that?" Derek asks. The first case had initially been labeled as a murder suicide by the local police precinct but the most recent victims were both shot in the back of the head. Though the scenes had far too many similarities to rule out a serial homicide.

"Most likely" he nods, "though I haven't gotten to the why just yet. But what I can tell you is that our unsub seems to really hate the women" He turns his attention back to the cork board.

"Well that's not very original" Y/N quips before pulling out her cell phone to call Garcia. "Hey Babe, I'm gonna need you to find any overlap between the Miltons and the Stevensons, any clubs, stores, hangout spots, somewhere where they could've met, or met the same people. If that's too broad maybe narrow in on the wives, anywhere they would've potentially overlapped, we think they could've been this unsub’s primary target"

"But of course my Angel" Garcia's almost sickly sweet voice pours out of the headset along with he clacking of her brightly colored nails on the keys. "Hmm." she let's out a little frustrated, "They lived a little too far apart to be members of the same gym, church, what have you. Wait!" she stops in her tracks excited, "Both couples had several appointments at the same clinic, St. Andrews Medical Centre, but those records are sealed."

Y/N lets out a frustrated sigh, "Can you unseal 'em?"

Garcia scoffs, "Can I unseal them, who are you talking to? I'll have the info in 3, 2, 1, Bingo. Both couples had several appointments with a therapist, one Dr. Harris in the months leading up to and week of their disappearance" she sends a picture and attached file to Y/N's tablet as she beckons Spencer over to take a look.

"He's a therapist with a specialty in, oh," Garcia pauses, "couples counseling"

"So what were they in for?" Derek pipes up, "Is our Dr. just interested in the look or has the couples' issue got something to do with it?"

Y/N reads through the files Garcia's sent on Dr. Harris, combing though them as fast as she can for any ounce of helpful information.

"Harris is divorced?" Y/N says in confusion.

"His wife cheated on him, and she's currently married to that guy" Garcia interjects, "he wrote a whole article about it, yeesh, someone is not over it.”

"Maybe he's targeting couples where the wives have been unfaithful to their husbands?" Spencer suggests, "That would account for the unjust hate towards the women, and the implication that he forced their husbands to kill them first, perhaps he's using them as a surrogate for the vengeance he wants?"

"Maybe so, but we've got no evidence for any of this, the crime scenes were spotless, not even a trace of DNA to tie anyone other than the couples to the scene, if it is this guy then we have to prove it before we can arrest him." JJ counters as the voice of reason.

The room goes silent.

"Prove it?" Y/N asks, Hotch looks down at her, before averting his gaze towards Spencer sitting beside her.

"I've got an idea" he says, monotone and serious. “The two of you come with me.” He motions with is hand.

The two of them look at each other with profound confusion before following behind Hotch, resigned.

----

“A married couple?!” Spencer all but shouts, the office is hardly soundproof and the rest of the team must’ve caught on by now. For the ‘smartest member of the team’ Spencer sure had some gaping holes in his foresight.

“You can’t be serious!”

He stands up from his chair, shaking his head in disbelief, starting to pace around the medium sized office to work off the nervous energy building in his chest.

“This is hardly outrageous Reid” Hotch states, making sympathetic but brief eye contact with Y/N before he pinches the bridge of his nose in an effort to restrain himself. “Yourself and Y/N already have a friendship to build on, she’s worked undercover many times and your memory should make it simple for you to integrate into the false narrative she can construct. Plus, you’re a non-threatening presence to an unsub like this. What else could you possibly need convincing of?” Hotch adds with exasperation, he’d mentioned all of that and more in his initial proposition but Spencer was still reluctant.

“If I’m really that repulsive I’m sure we can find someone else to play my husband Spence?” Y/N tries to joke but there’s something about the sentence that makes her stomach uneasy.

“No!” Spencer sits again with haste, looking between the two other agents, “No that’s not it, I just” he takes in a deep sigh, “I don’t know if I’ll be any good at this, I don’t want to ruin the investigation” he confesses and Hotch immediately shoots it down.

“That won’t be an issue, our unsub’s primary target will be Y/N. She’ll be the cheating partner, your role will mostly be following her lead which shouldn’t be too difficult”

Spencer might be great at acting after all. He lets his shoulders slump and his posture relaxes entirely as though his boss has just put all of his worries to rest. But that’s not what was bothering him. Not even close.

He’s had a stupid schoolboy crush on Y/N from her first day at the BAU. He’d like to think it had come later but he knew it had been almost instant. Her first day had been on Halloween 2 years earlier, he’d been explaining the historical origins of the holiday when Y/N corrected his pronunciation of the Irish word Samhain.

“It’s more like ‘Sah-whin’ than ‘Sam-hain’ in spite of its spooky origins it’s actually the current Irish word for November” she spoke up from her seat in the bullpen, setting up some stationary at the once empty desk next to Spencer’s.

“Y/N L/N,” she stood up outstretching her hand, “I guess I’m your new co-worker” she half-smiled, her nervous energy getting the better of her as he ignored her gesture and just looked at her palm instead.

“He’s just weird about touching” Emily reaches out to reciprocate the handshake, “I’m Emily Prentiss, it’s nice to meet you, this little guy here is Spencer Reid” she says as she places her hands on both of his shoulders and shakes him gently

“Dr. Spencer Reid” he corrects quickly, shooting her a tight lipped smile paired with an even more awkward half-wave.

“Oh, a doctor” she raises her eyebrows, “best not tell my Mom I work with a doctor or she’ll be hounding me to marry you” she cracks. It’s obviously a joke but Spencer can’t help but recall the conversation now and how prescient it feels.

“We can work out the details together if you think that’ll help you feel more comfortable?” Y/N reaches out her hand to touch his forearm to steady him in his seat. He’d grown so used to her casual touch by now that he barely noticed it. But this time, with his rolled up sleeve, feeling her fingertips against his bare skin it felt as though he was going to combust. How was he going to be able to hide this childish infatuation if they had to masquerade as a married couple. What if she touched him literally anywhere else. She was a profiler too, of course she’d notice.

“It’s paramount that it looks natural. This unsub knows the ins and outs of what it’s like to be a married couple so I’ll expect the two of you to prepare accordingly” Hotch is stern and focusing on Y/N as he speaks, “Work on it together, tonight, and report back to me tomorrow morning. We’ll make our decision on how to proceed then.” he says before dismissing them from his office.

They stand in the bullpen in unsure silence for a moment too long before Y/N speaks, “So, your place or mine hubby?” she leans on the last word and it feels comical coming out of her mouth but it still makes something in Spencer’s stomach tighten.

——

Garcia sends them away with piles of notes and transcriptions from each of the couples’ sessions so they could aim to predict the kind of questions they could be asked. Digging through interviews with Mrs. Milton’s friends it became apparent that she’d been stalked in the weeks leading up to her abduction, and potentially longer. Y/N and Spencer had to be prepared for that eventuality too.

Each of the couples had had at least 4 appointments before they were abducted, so the new Mr. and Mrs. Reid had to come up with several hours worth of talking points, along with day to day appearance of living as a married couple in order to be prepared.

Shouldn’t be too difficult.

Spencer was already making moves to walk back his commitment. Now that he was in Y/N’s living room pages strewn about the coffee table he was finding the whole situation a little overwhelming.

“Look I don’t think I’m up for this, I’ll just call Morgan and see if he can do it. I’m so bad at lying Y/N, I’ll get us both killed” he lets his head flop down into his hands.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Just rest your head between your knees and take a few deep breaths” Y/N coaxes and he does as instructed, his heart rate dropping to normal again almost instantly. It might be the breathing exercise but it’s probably her hand tracing up and down his back over the fabric of his dress shirt that’s actually calming him.

“The golden rule of working undercover is to tell the truth until you absolutely have to lie” she says softly, continuing her movements along his spine. “Sure we have to lie about being married, and about my infidelity. But that doesn’t mean everything has to be a lie. We can pull stories from our real lives and force them into our Legend.”

“Legend?” he says into his own lap, just loud enough for her to hear.

“Mmhmm” she hums, her finger tracing circles between his shoulder blades now, “Our Legend, it’s like our profile, our history, for our undercover identities. We’ll build it together so that we know it inside out. But it doesn’t have to be a total fabrication.” Her voice is gentle and sweet as she explains.

Spencer sits up straight again, looking to Y/N with a furrowed brow and she continues, “Remember the first time we hung out outside of work?” She coaxes and he nods. Even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory he would never forget.

“You asked me to go see that Russian film and you translated it into my ear the whole time?” He smiles at the memory, “And I just hadn’t told you that I spoke Russian yet” she giggles.

She was going to tell him right as the movie started, honestly she was, but the way he had to lean in so close to whisper the words in her ear, so close that she could smell his soap and shampoo. She would’ve told him, but then he would’ve stopped.

“Then we went to that noodle place next door and you started to fact check a bunch of my translations?” He finishes the story.

“That’s the one!” She sees him ease into the seat on the sofa, his body beginning to relax, “So how about we keep things simple, that was our first date.” Y/N states so plainly, like the suggestion doesn’t make Spencer’s heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, okay.” he nods in agreement swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Great, so we have our starting point” she pulls out a notebook and makes a note of it, he leans over to peer at the writing on the page.

“November 18th” he says quietly and she turns to him confused,

“That was the uh, the date, the date of our ‘first date’” she nods in agreement and puts the date next to the bullet-point in the notebook

“November 18th” she repeats content.

——

“We’re Spencer and Y/N Green. We’ve been together for 2 years, married for just over a year. We eloped in Vegas after going to visit Spencer’s Mother. He’s a professor and I’m a bartender. That bar is where we met. We have opposite schedules in order to facilitate my infidelity.”

Y/N and Spencer stand at the top of the room facing the team gathered at the round table, the pages of their legend tacked to the board behind them.

“I found out after I left work early 4 months ago. Y/N doesn’t have a consistent partner but revealed she’d been casually sleeping with other people for the 6 months prior. She agreed to stop at the time but continued to cheat. This time we’re seeking professional counseling to see if we can save the marriage.” Spencer finished the story with ease. Turning to Y/N to shoot her a small smile.

Once they’d worked out the overall story, the details came easy. He wouldn’t let on but he was pretty confident he may know everything there was to know about his ‘wife’ already.

“Okay, if you both feel confident I can start making the arrangements with Garcia to set up an appointment for you two” Hotch stands up from the table turning back on his way out.

“Great work agents.”

——

There were no appointments available until the following week, which comes as both a stress and a relief. On one hand it gives them more time to prepare, but on the other hand it stretches this whole situation out further.

Garcia coaxes Rossi into inviting everyone over for the evening with little to no real effort. More than anything Spencer just wants to go home and read in the peace and quiet of his living room, but Y/N sits herself on the edge of his desk before he has a chance to leave for the night.

“You coming kid?” She picks up his satchel off the ground to hand it to him as he stands, he takes it from her before shaking his head.

“I don’t know that I’m up for it” he scrunches up his nose a little as he says it, it’s one of the nervous ticks he’s got that Y/N loves the most.

“Aw c’mon. My husband is gonna make me go to a party on my own? No wonder I went and cheated on you” she shoves his shoulder gently, antagonizing him just a little. He chuckles as he and shakes his head softly. “But seriously Spence, it’s been a rough day and half, and it’ll be an even weirder week. It might be good for you to blow off a little steam, get out of your own head” she reaches up to ruffle his hair as she says it.

He loves that. The way she has to reach all the way up on her tippy toes to get to the top of his head but she still insists on doing it. He softens with so little convincing.

“Y’know what, you’re right” he sighs, slinging his bag across his shoulder, “Lets get out of here.”

And it’s already worth it to see the smile that spreads across Y/N’s cheeks.

——

“I can see it, I think pretty boy here’s a bit stiff but you can pull it off” Morgan squints at the two of them sitting next to one another around Rossi’s table.

“Hey I’m not stiff” Spencer jumps to his own defense before the table erupts with laughter. He wants to fight it again but Y/N’s hand comes to rest on his forearm laying on the table between them.

“Yes you are Spence, but I married you anyway” she makes an exaggerated kissing face before the table begins to giggle yet again. Spencer doesn’t mind this time because after the joke is over her hand doesn’t move from it’s position.

“Oh, oh, oh!” Garcia almost begins to vibrate in her chair, “I’ve got a great idea, we should test you guys”

The team starts to holler and the sound throws Spencer’s head back into chaos. Each time he felt his heart start to palpitate he hoped Y/N couldn’t tell.

Garcia pulls out her phone and starts to look for questions, “What did they wear on your first date?” She asks with a quirk of her eyebrow.

“A light blue sweater with black pants and boots” Spencer answers with no hesitation.

“No fair!” Y/N yelps, “this game is rigged, the kids got an eidetic memory!”

“Alright then, I’ll change it up, who’s the tidiest?” Garcia asks, and that’s also unfair because Y/N knows it’s Spencer but doesn’t want to pay him that compliment. Before she can speak he’s already on it though.

“Me, is that not obvious?” He jokes,

“Yeah okay that one’s right too” Y/N sulks.

“What’s their dream job?” Garcia offers and Y/N jumps in before he can answer first.

“Aha! Magician!” she yelps and Spencer turns to her, eyebrows pulled together.

“Yeah, how’d you remember that?” he interrogates.

He knows exactly when he told her. Y/N was having a moment during a case. it was getting to her more than she’d like to admit but Spencer could tell. She’d knocked on his hotel room door one evening when she couldn’t sleep, she knew it wasn’t his strong suit either.

He’d let her in, settling on the bed. This was one of the better mattresses they’d had in a hotel. It helped soothe the muscles that had been tensed all day. Y/N didn’t want to talk about why she couldn’t sleep. This was the first time it happened, but they’ve found themselves in each other’s hotel rooms over and over as the cases went by.

They both knew that what they were searching for was distraction, and comfort, but they wouldn’t admit to the last one.

“Just tell me something, anything”

Spencer had to wrack his brain looking around the hotel room when something struck him. “Do you want to hear an interesting hotel fact?”

“Sure Spence, shoot” she murmured into the pillow she had curled up in her lap.

“Did you know that the ‘Sky Beam’, a bright light that shoots out of the Luxor Hotel in Las Vegas, attracts so many insects that it has established a new ecosystem of moths, bats, and owls” he says with fervor but he can see from the way her face contorts that he’s put the wrong foot forward.

“Not a gross fact Spencer” she knocks him in the head with her pillow, not too harsh, but rough enough to ruffle his curls.

He skims the room again, eyes landing on a few coins scattered on his bedside table. “How about a magic trick?” she looks at him strange but shakes the expression away and nods.

Spencer picks up a coin of the nightstand and shows it to Y/N with   enthusiasm, “See just a regular coin” he jokes and she returns the look exasperated.

“Alright, spoilsport” he holds it out to her pinched between the thumb and index finger of his right hand, moving his left hand over the coin quickly before it vanishes. He then holds out his two empty palms to Y/N for inspection.

“Nah, bullshit” she says, pulling his open palms towards her. He snaps them away before she can look too hard. Pulling his hands back in towards himself he waves one in front of the other and the coin reappears between his fingers.

“What?” is all she can say, and he’s accomplished his goal of distracting her now. “How’d you do that?” she picks up the coin and starts to inspect it closely, with no idea what she’d even be looking for.

“A magician never reveals his secrets” he smirks, confident now that he’s left her so dumfounded. She snaps her head up to look at him, throwing the coin back into his waiting hands.

“So you’re a magician now?” she jokes, reclining back onto the pillows below her and turning her head to look up at him. He follows suit, lying down on his own pillows next to Y/N and returns her gaze.

“Yup, that’s actually what I wanted to do when I was a kid. Still do if I’m honest with myself. So I guess if this FBI thing ever goes belly-up I’ve got a back up plan” he says it like it’s just a silly joke but Y/N can see it’s a little more than that. Spencer joined the BAU so young he almost didn’t get to have a childhood at all, he barely even chose what he would spend the rest of his life working at.

“You have to teach me that one sometime” she yawns, shutting her eyes softly.

“Anytime” he smiles, even thought she can’t see it, and watches as her breathing evens out and she’s asleep. He’s gone not long after. He wishes he had the energy left to stay awake, watching her for even a few moments more so that he could commit the sight to memory. But something about her presence in his room, in his bed, just put him at complete ease and he couldn’t help but fall asleep.

Like so many things in their friendship he’d assumed he was the only one to remember it all so vividly. Despite how often Y/N proved him wrong he would never get used to it.

“Of course I remembered you wanted to be a magician Spencer. How was I supposed to forget that, you still haven't taught me that coin thingy” she feigns annoyance but really she’s just had a glass or two of Rossi’s expensive wine and is feeling brave.

“Sorry Y/N I tried to teach you that, your coordination is just that bad” he shrugs and takes a sip from his own glass.

Derek interrupts, scanning the screen of Garcia’s phone for an interesting question before he appears to land on one, his face lighting up.

“Of the two of you, who’s the better kisser?” Derek says with pure confidence that catches Spencer so off guard that he almost spits out his wine like he’s in a cartoon.

“We haven’t– we don't need– we uh” Spencer stammers having next to no clue what he’s even trying to say.

“I’m sure it’s 50/50, isn’t that right Mr. Green?” Y/N reaches her hand up to cup his cheeks, pushing his lips into a small pout. The red wine staining his lips ever so slightly so that they’re just a shade pinker than usual. And Y/N can’t help but stare at them for a second too long before looking up into his eyes.

He looks uneasy, and a little nervous so she lets go of his cheeks, letting her hand fall down to rest on his forearm once again, grazing the exposed skin.

“You gotta at least play the part pretty boy” Derek laughs, “What happens if this therapist starts asking about your sex life, are you gonna clam up, freak out?”

And he hadn’t thought about it. But it made sense, the sessions were going to be about ‘cheating’ which is by it’s very nature linked to their sex life. This was worse than he thought.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it Morgan. I’ve thought of it all.” Y/N waves off the comment, gripping Spencer’s arm a little tighter as she spoke in an effort to comfort him. “You know what, I actually think it might be time to head out.” She stands up from the table, rubbing her ‘husband’s’ shoulder as she moves so that he follows suit, recognizing this move as her saving him from the interaction.

They’re out the door together with minimal teasing in under 3 minutes, piled into a cab beside each other with no real plan other than to leave that table.

“Do you want to go by to yours and watch old reruns of The Twilight Zone?” Y/N offers and Spencers shoulders almost melt into the black leather of the seat behind him.

“So so badly” he groans, letting his eyes close as he falls back against the headrest.

——

Thank you so much for reading, comments, reblogs, and tags are always appreciated! ❤️

Let me know what you thought about this chapter here <3

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist 

[rose-lord-of-simps]

AO3 fics

This is a list of AO3 fics I find and need a place to save so I can read them later! I’d save them in a file on my phone but my phone hates me and quite frankly, I don’t blame it.

Note: I also take fic finding requests! I can’t help you find specific fics but if there is a ship here you aren’t interested in or don’t ship but you want a fic for, let me know what genre you want and the ship or x reader and I’ll find it for you! Genres include fluff, romantic, spicy, angst!

Some of the descriptions are the actual descriptions from the fics, however some are just notes I made about them myself. NONE OF THESE ARE MINE AND I AM NOT TAKING CREDIT FOR THEM!

This is mostly just for me but I figured I’d post it so I can create a link for it on my page instead of going through my drafts to look for it.

Guide: ☘️ not completed 🍀 completed ❌ not read ✔️ read 🌶 spicy 🌹 romance 🌵angst 🌼 fluff

If you think an emoji on a fic should be changed, just let me know! I DID NOT PUT ANY TRIGGER WARNING IN THE DESCRIPTIONS! If I think there is something trigger or know there is I will tell you to read the tags and notes but if you read one of these with a mislabeled emojis or you think a 🌵 should be added, please let me know.

On the last day of every month I go through and update the info of if it is completed and how many chapters there are. Because of this some of the info may be wrong as you read this post.

Solangelo

A World Alone

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

10 chapters and part of a Series

🌼🌹 Nico was ready to propose - now he just needed to figure out how. He convinces Will to celebrate Hanukkah for the first time in years. The problem is, Nico doesn't know anything about Hanukkah.

The Ballad of Landon Creek

Completed ☘️ Read not all the way

22/32 updated 2021-03-05 left off on 16

🌵🌹🌼Doctor Will Solace had lived in the secluded Oregon town of Ladon Creek for a year when a mysterious stranger arrived and turned his world upside down.

PLEASE CHECK THE TAGS AND NOTES!

Kiribaku

A series of coincidental meetings

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

3 chapters - left off on 3

🌼 Exactly what the title says

Coat/Jacket

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 chapter but part of a series!

🌼 Eijirou wakes up cold, alone, and worried. What hidden truths will he find when he seeks out his boyfriend?

Axis

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter but part of a series!

🌵 Ochako recieves a letter from Bakugo she never wanted.

Not Kiribaku centered but includes Kiribaku

And your name for the order is

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌼 Coffee shop AU where Kirishima is the only one who enjoys taking Bakugo’s order

Tell me the truth (even if it hurts)

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

3 chapters - left off on 3

🌵 little not much 🌹/🌼 Kirishima gets hit with a truth quirk but he isn’t the one telling the truth

Tell me Whatever

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 chapter

🌼 mostly, Bakugo gets hit with a quirk and it becomes impossible to be lied to, and Kirishima is so very open

Bien Cuit

Completed ☘️ Read ❌

7/10 updated on 2021-02-12 left off on 1?

🌼🌹 “It’s the best cafe in town! You gotta try it!!” Kirishima exclaimed. “What’s the worse that can happen?” Kirishima asked. Bakugou should have fucking known better than to trust that Shitty Hair for a simple coffee recommendation.

Or : Bakugou Katsuki accidentally ends up in a cafe meet-cute with Deku’s former number one ride-or-die, Uraraka Ochako, and they catch feelings.

Fireflies

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌵🌹 romance and angst, soulmate AU!

Dis-ease

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

2 Chapters and part of a series left off on chapter 1

🌼Kirishima is sick and Bakugo takes care of him

I Missed You

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 Chapter

🌼 After a long mission, Bakugou and Kirishima talk on their couch, some sweet things are said, and their friends walk in on them making out.

5 Times Bakugou Katsuki was soft for Kirishima Eijirou and the 1 Time Everyone Found Out

Completed ☘️ Read not done yet

2/6 Chapters updated on 2021-01-19 left off on 2

🌼 Sunflowers, daisies, and a discussion about bubbles.

Light it up like dynamight

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 chapter

🌼 Kirishima had a mission: to discover Bakugou’s favourite band. After all, he had a Christmas gift to buy.

Or, alternatively, in which best bros Kirishima and Bakugou go to a concert and they end the day being more than bros.

Valentine- a Kiribaku fluffshot

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 Chapter

🌹🌼 Happy valentine's day! Well, it's not not so happy for Katsuki, who's finally decided to confess to Eijirou. Much due to Mina's pushiness, he decided to confess through cliched Valentine's chocolates. Although he's nervous and doubtful, a good deal of hope sits buried in Katsuki's chest. But what will happen when the Bakusquad hangs out on Valentine's Day and someone notices the chocolates?

We don’t have to be ordinary

Completed 🍀 Read unfinished

8/8 chapters left off on 5

🌵🌹🌼 A Footloose AU that nobody asked for, but I'm certainly providing.

Sounds a little strange for someone who’s never watched footloose- BUT IT’S SO GOOD I PROMISE!

Gotta KiriBaku Them All

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter

Eijiro Kirishima is a eighteen year old rock trainer in a world full of Pokemon. His childhood best friend Denki Kaminari travels with him to different regions. One fateful day they decide to enlist in a charity tournament at Lumiose City in Kalos. Who will they meet and what challenges will they face? Follow the boys as they make new friends and battle their way through the competition!

Im unsure how to emoji label this one so please read the tags and notes!

Bakugou and his Journal

Completed ☘️ Read not finished

1/2 chapters updated 2021-02-07

🌼🌵? (Unsure how to emoji label this) Bakugou’s journal.

Shinkami

Clashing Colors

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

3 chapters

🌼One month into classes at UA and shinso is being transferred into class 1-A, a small problem being that kaminari has started to have feelings for him and just to his luck, kaminari has been chosen to help shinso move into his new dorm.

(Obviously) They’re Married

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

6 chapters

🌹🌼mostly, Where Kaminari meets Shinso’s dads. But he doesn’t know who they are. Erasermic family!

5 + 1 Things : Kamishin

Completed 🍀 Read ?

1 Chapter

🌼🌵 5 times Kaminari was too loud for Shinso, 1 time he was too quite. Warning: language and brief mention of homophobia

Let me Scream

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌵🌼 Mina made Hitoshi drop an extremely personal note before reading it out loud with Denki present. Denki got mad at Hitoshi for the first time. A while later, he angrily opens up and tells Hitoshi why.

Or Hitoshi and Denki have their first argument as a couple.

You Make It Feel Like Christmas

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter

🌼Kaminari and Shinsou spend their first Christmas together. Shinsou's never really celebrated Christmas and Kaminari is determined to give him a real Christmas

Catch Me

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

5 Chapters

🌼(but read the tags!) Shinsou and Kaminari meet by chance their first year of high school and spend one whirlwind day together that changes the trajectory of their entire lives. Three years later, after maintaining a long distance friendship, they are roommates, nearly through their first year at the University of Osaka. They are forever on the edge of something beyond friendship, but never quite able to take the leap of faith for fear of tainting their memories of that one, perfect day. That is, until Kaminari gets blackout drunk in a night of frustration and Shinsou won't let it go.

Pizza n Fries

Completed ☘️ Read not finished

3/? Chapters updated 2021-03-10 left off on 2

🌼 So here Kaminari sits, the most popular boy in school, alone, idly poking at his school lunch,, pizza. How the school managed to screw up pizza was beyond him, but at the same time he was once given a single slice of soggy bread for lunch. Just as he was about to get up to throw his plate in the trash, it's entire existence disgusted him, a deep voice sounded in, "school lunches am I right?"

We’ll Hold You When the Sky Falls Down

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 Chapter

🌹🌼This is a Kaminari x Jirou x Shinsou fic! Soulmate AU where you can write on your arm and it appears on your partner’s arm!

Denki Who is Not His Boyfriend

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌹🌶(a little bit) PLEASE READ THE RAGS OF THIS ONE AND THE NOTES

Kaminari Denki’s Very Strange Day

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌼 All hail Denki Kaminari, newly initiated drinker of respect women juice, matchmaker extraordinaire. Alternately, Shinsou Hitoshi simultaneously has the worst and best day of his life.

Tododeku

How did I not Know?

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌵 Aizawa is concerned when Todoroki starts to fall behind in class but dismissed it as the boy needing a break and that he would be fine when he came back to the dorms after a weekend of being at home. He never would've thought how wrong he was and how one weekend would reveal a lifetime of secrets about the Todoroki household. Though he just wished that the two teens would have been spared from the crossfire that is Endeavor.

Not Tododeku centric but they’re together

The Prince and the Painter

Completed ☘️ Read ❌

1/? Chapters updated 2021-01-30

🌵🌹🌼 Prince Shoto Todoroki is next in line for the Alterian throne. His father rules the Kingdom with an iron fist, giving Shoto no choice but to obey his every order. He is overworked, depressed, and utterly miserable. That is until he meets Izuku Midoriya, an avant-garde painter who starts to bring the color back into his dull life. But what happens when they start to fall in love with each other? Shoto is a Prince, and Izuku is just a painter, surely this cannot end well!

(Basically a royal AU! Lots of angst, family drama, and of course fluffy love. Enjoy!)

Of Flowers and Tattoos

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter and part of a series!

Shouto owns a tattoo parlor. Izuku owns a flower shop. Love (unsurprisingly) happens.

Property Of Prince Shotou Todoroki

Completed 🍀 Read not finished

9 chapters left off on 4

🌵🌹🌶little bit of Bakugou x Midoriya, prince Todoroki x peasant Deku AU! PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND NOTES!

Lady in Red

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 chapter

🌼 Izuku’s mother refuses to tell him who her Valentine’s date is. Tododeku isn’t the main ship but it’s still included so it’s going here.

Something That I Want

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌹🌼🌵(lightly) TANGLED AU ITS SO GOOD OH MY GOSH-

The Cupid Quirk

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

23/23 chapters updated 2021-04-08

🌹🌼 During an attack at school, Midoriya gets hit by a quirk that leaves him infatuated with the first person he sees, which just so happens to be Todoroki Shouto. Due to an unfortunate side effect of the quirk, Midoriya breaks out into a horrible fever whenever they’re separated for too long, so Todoroki accepts the responsibility of caring for him until the quirk wears off. Problem is, Todoroki sort of, kind of, maybe likes Midoriya as more than just a friend, which makes the whole situation just a little awkward for him.

THIS IS AN AMAZING FIC AND I LOVE IT. You’re not gonna regret this read.

Erasermic

So They Follow in Our Footsteps

Completed ☘️ Read ❌

1/2 chapters 2021-01-22 part of a series!

🌵🌼 Eventually, Aizawa thinks, he’s going to figure Shinsou out. He’s gonna figure out what it means to tote around a kid through the zombie apocalypse like a Chanel bag, and what it means to get truly, murderously pissed when they’re threatened.

Zombie apocalypse AU! So- Apocolypse AU’s aren’t my thing so I don’t know why I have this one saved and I’m probably not going to read it, however I found a link for it on tumblr in the Erasermic tag so that’s where it’s going! ALSO READ THE NOTES OF THE CHAPTER!

Miritama

Glowing

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter and part of a series

🌼 Kirishima asks Tamaki about Mirio.

Of Octopus Balls and Contract Flaws

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 Chapter

🌼 Tamaki really had to be careful about what he said out loud sometimes, or else a simple frustrated phrase such as "I would sell my soul for some decent takoyaki" could easily be taking out of context.

Purple Haze

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter and part of a series!

🌹🌼Tamaki wants to know Mirio’s colour. “What’s your color? I wanna know, I wanna know.”

Burst of Sunlight

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter

🌹🌼🌵(possibly) In the aftermath of the Shie Hassaikai raid, Tamaki looks after Mirio. One-shot. Soft Miritama

Summertime:Miritama

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter

🌼 Amajiki Tamaki had always preferred the winter, until Mirio came along. Tamaki tells the story of him and Mirio by following their memories through the course of many summers.

Grossly Incandescent

Complete 🍀 Read ❌

1 chapter

Mirio thinks, perhaps, his journey to find his own sun has found just the right path. Tamaki just do what he's supposed to and ring the bell. Their paths may just merge into one. OR Mirio knows incandescence when he sees it, but it's a bit harder to prove that to Tamaki if he's just going to hide under his hood all day!

Star Spots

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter

🌹🌼 mirio looks so sad, beneath the surface, and tamaki wants to say something, but doesn't know what's best for his best friend. what do you do, what do you say, when your best friend lost something so important to them? or, a series of scenes where tamaki and mirio spend their time in each others company, make confessions, and make it through to the other side.

Moments of Peace

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 chapter and part of a series

🌹🌼Mirio wakes up way too early, and he takes a moment to appreciate the love of his life

The “Almost” Perfect Nest

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌹🌼Omega Tamaki likes to take comfort in the nests he creates to have Mirio's alpha scent around. He finds blankets and clothes that smell likes Mirio and throws them all into one big pile. So what happens the day he can't find a specific hoodie that belongs to Mirio? He loses it.

Love Confessions are Hard for Idiots

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌹🌼Mirio wants to confess.

Todoroki x Kaminari

Denki’s Life Essentials:Memes, food, and Shouto

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

1 Chapter

Denki tries to explain what memes are to Shouto and accidentally falls in love.

Hawks x Reader

Amans Avaritia

Completed ☘️ Read not all the way

3/? Chapters updated on 2021-01-05 left off on chapter 3

🌵🌹When the Prince of the feathered-folk Kingdom, Hawks, threatens to declare war on your kingdom, you’re forced to make the worst and best decision of your life.

Let’s Chase the Sun

Completed ☘️ Read ❌

19/? Updated on 2021-02-22

(I unsure what emojis to use) Your whole life you had been sheltered away from the real world, but you weren’t exactly alone in that aspect. You just had less freedom than him. Now, however, you would take him as a chance to live life the way you wanted to. Who cares about the consequences after all? Life isn’t easy, though, and that’s something you’ll have to learn, even with a capable hero at your side. Because to be honest, being with him is the biggest problem of all.

Im unsure what emojis to use so PLEASE CHECK THE TAGS and the NOTES in the first chapter!

Writers

Born Dead

MHA ship writer, mostly Kiribaku I believe

Multi-Ship

Totally Definetly Legit Leaked BNHA Valentine’s Day Light Novel Spoilers

Completed 🍀 Read ✔️

1 chapter

🌼 I honestly have no idea how to describe this, some Momo x Todoroki, and Kiribaku

If you don’t take this friendship, I will shove it up your ass

Completed ☘️ Read not finished

3/? Chapters updated 2021-01-31 left off on 2

🌼crack fic, no one ship specific, super funny!

The Todoroki In-Laws

Completed 🍀 Read ❌

13/13 COMPLETED and part of a series!

🌼crack fic Over 10 years after the fight against the Paranormal Liberation Front, Rumi, aka the part-time hero Miruko and the proud wife of one Todoroki Fuyumi, decides it would be an awesome idea to create a groupchat with the significant others of the other Todoroki siblings. Maybe things would be easier if its members weren’t two Pro Heroes, a former one and a rehabilitated villain, but… Honestly, where’s the fun in that?

Part 2 coming soon... there’s more...

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Five

Words: 4k

Warning(s): explicit language, domestic abuse, violence, drug abuse

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LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

"Hey, Nikki, c'mon!" The sound of Fred shouting on the other side of the bathroom door pulls me to my feet, making me swing the door open and catch myself on the side of the doorway before I can face plant. 

His expression is neutral, but I see it in his eyes...he knows they're losing me. "Three more nights to go," he reminds me, "make it count." 

I wipe my mouth, following him down the hallway, catching a glimpse of Vivian talking to Izzy while Steven's got his arms around her hips, pulling her to sit in his lap and she does, patting at his arms while he rests his cheek against her back and closes his eyes to rest a second as her conversation with Izzy doesn't skip a beat. 

Maybe she's sleeping with all of them. 

Not like it matters at this point. 

We're over anyway and I'll probably be dead before either of us can even file. 

She looks like she's about to look at me but I make sure to cut away from looking at her to avoid being caught, grabbing my bass from the tech as Tommy starts in on the drums, the screams of our fans echoing backstage as Mick, Vince and I head under the stage, my fingers lightly brushing against her crucifix around my neck for a split second. 

I'd stolen it when I found it in Duff's bathroom...when people asked me, "dude, how'd you take that news? You kicked his ass, right? You showed that cheating bitch, right?" 

Well…

The Night Before

"Hey, Nikki, man, can you help us with this?" Slash asks me once I get my room's door open, and I raise my brows. 

"With what?" I reply, confused. 

He motions down the hall, and I peek my head out to see Steven and Duff trying to push a desk out of Steven's room.

"We're fucking with hotel. We need help getting the desk, chair, lamp, and night stand from Steven's room into the elevator before someone needs to use it." He explains. 

"So they can have a more comfortable ride." Stevie pipes with a grin. 

I've been locked in my room all day and I won't get to see these guys until the end of next month starting in a few days, so…

"Hell, yeah." I agree, stepping out of the hall. 

"Where's your clothes man?" I ask Duff when I get to him and Steven, helping them push the desk along the carpet, to the elevator. 

He's in his boxers and a pair of his cowboy boots, and he replies, "me and this girl got in an argument and she stole my clothes."

I can't help but laugh. 

Poor Duff, he's probably never dealt with crazy, vindictive, mind-screwing women before. 

We get the desk and chair into the elevator before the doors try to shut, signaling someone needing to use it, and I'm snatching Steven out of there before it goes down. 

Whoever the fuck uses it will probably shit a brick once they realize it's gonna be impossible to get inside without crawling over the desk. 

After that, we get the elevator back pretty quick and finish the job before pressing every button in the elevator to make a stop at every floor, just to make people in need of it wait longer. 

"What're you guys doing?" I hear Viv's voice and turn to see her standing in the hallway with her room door open. 

"None of your fucking business." I snap at her, just as the elevator dings and the doors open to reveal all the fucking furniture, Izzy, and a groupie. 

They're sitting on the desk as if it's no big deal, and Izzy hops off of it and helps his lady friend down, the two of them looking at me and the guys. 

"Good one." Izzy tells us, nodding to the elevator and I chuckle as he passes by, lightly patting at my shoulder, saying, "goodnight, man." 

"Children." I hear Vivian mumble, shutting her door behind her. 

"She's not feeling good today." Duff tells me, trying to get me to drop it before I even pick it up. 

I don't listen, stomping to her door and banging on it. 

She opens it, and I sneer down at her. 

"We're having fun, what the fuck makes you think you can come out and shit on it when nobody even wants you on this fucking tour to begin with?!" I bark at her. 

"Nikki, all I said--"

"--I know what you fucking said because you've been saying it the past six fucking years. We get it. I get it. So just fucking drop it and mind your own goddamn business!" 

She shuts the door in my face, making me kick the door, before taking a breath, and turning to see Steven, Slash, and Duff, trying not to be too uncomfortable. 

"You guys got any booze?" I ask, knowing they do. 

"Yeah, man." Slash nods, motioning me to Duff's room. 

He hands me a bottle of Jack and I start downing it with no hesitation, wrinkling my nose at it's peculiar taste--more peculiar than usual.

"It's half Jack, half Vodka." Slash explains and I wrinkle my nose, my throat on fire as I cough. 

"What the fuck?" I ask, my head swimming, and he shrugs. 

"We got bored and figured we'd try it." 

"Don't let Viv know. She'll pour it out." I mumble, wiping my mouth, sitting on the foot of Duff's bed as he and Steven join us. 

"I know you two have a lot going on but go a little easier on her, man." Slash says to me, next.

"Yeah, you guys are our friends so seeing you fight is weird." Steven adds. 

"Like watching parents try to kill each other in front of their kids." Duff states and I sigh. 

"I know you guys are friends with her but you don't see what she's really like." I insist. "She's fucking nuts." 

"Trust us, we know." Steven scoffs. 

"She's a sweet girl, she's just going through a lot." Duff interjects, grabbing the bottle of jack/vodka from me, taking a sip for himself. 

"She was a sweet girl." I argue calmly. "Breakups just fucking make people unrecognizable. I don't see the chick I proposed to. I see a wicked bitch from hell that possessed her and just uses her body as a disguise." I add. 

None of them say anything, because they can't argue it. 

They see how we treat each other. 

It's a given I'll be an asshole, but when someone like Vivian starts spewing venom, it's because she's lost their fucking mind.

"I think I'm gonna be sick." I grumble, feeling my stomach wrench before I'm stumbling to the bathroom, vomit spewing past my lips into the toilet, my hand grasping the edge of the counter to keep myself from falling forward, the sound of the clink of metal against the floor as I accidentally knock one of Duff's necklaces to the bathroom tile. 

Once I'm done puking, I take deep breaths, closing my eyes for a moment before flushing the toilet. 

I reach for the necklace to put it back on the counter, before I get a good look at it. 

It's a small, sparkling cross a little too dainty for Duff...my stomach drops, my mind going back to the night I first met Vivian, when I first saw it around her neck and sneered everytime I looked at it. 

How she took it off before she and I fooled around for the first time, and everytime after that, until we got married…

My blood runs cold, another wave of nausea hitting me, bile rushing up in my throat before I can stop it, splattering onto the floor.

Maybe I would've been prepared had Vince told me what was going on. He'd found out after Sparkie got blacked out on smack and told him what he had discovered about saint Viv. 

It felt like a twenty-five pound weight had busted my balls. I didn't have time to think about it much in the moment.

"Gross." Steven wrinkles his nose a little as he peeks in to check on me. "I'll call the cleaning people." He adds, shutting the door, and I look at the necklace one last time before tucking it into my pocket. I'll confront her with it, later. 

I get out of the bathroom, Duff, Slash and Steven all looking at me.

"Dude, you alright?" Duff asks, smoking a cigarette, and I nod. 

"Yeah. I just feel like shit." I reply, trying to mask the fact I just found out he's been fucking my wife. "I'm gonna go lay down for a few minutes and see if I don't feel a little better." I tell them, stepping to the door. 

"Alright, man." Slash replies. 

"See ya." I mumble as Steven adds, "feel better, Sixx!" 

I get to my room, slamming the door, pacing, throwing my empty bottle of Jack at the wall and watching the glass shatter, my fingers raking through my hair. 

How the fuck could Vivian do this to me? How could Duff? My band gave his band a shot--a good one. I thought he and I were friends. You don't fuck your friend's chick. 

Okay, I fucked Roxy but that was different, I was high. 

Duff isn't into hard drugs and Viv's sober so neither of them have an excuse for it. 

A pit grows in my chest as I think a little more.

What if they were messing around back when she posed for Playboy? Maybe that's why he went with her…or maybe they've been at it since before Vanity let it out that me and her were together…that would explain why Viv hid him from me for so long.

My nostrils flare at the thought. 

Who the fuck does she think she is?! Cheating on me?! Does she realize how many girls would love to be married to me and here she is with my own fucking buddy. Heartless cunt. And he's an ungrateful bastard. I gave his fucking band a shot at getting what they've been hungry for and this is how he repays me? Nailing my wife on the very tour I invited him to play on? 

I take heavy breaths before stepping to the phone, dialing Tansy's room number. 

She's supposed to be back by now from her little break, and when I hear her answer, I sigh in relief. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey, Tans, whatcha up to?" I ask, grin on my face, knowing exactly what she's about to be up to, if she isn't already.

Tansy and I were like arsenic and cyanide. She was like Vanity--without the batshit craziness, or the sex. We'd hang out and just spend hours getting high together. I was one of her best friends, so it should've been my job to protect her, but if that were the case, I would've been encouraging her to throw her smack and coke out, instead of always wanting to hang out just so we could get high together like it was a bonding experience or something. Yeah, seeing each other at their fucking shittiest really bonds people to one another, right. 

It was a punch in the stomach when I found out about all the hell she'd gone through for years, that made her want to get lost in drugs, and eventually made her want to get lost past the confines of this life. 

A majority of her friends were protective "manly" men who would fist fight a pole if need be, well, Steven, at least. 

We were supposed to protect her. 

And I know, "Well, you didn't know." 

We would've known, had we paid more attention, and I wasn't paying attention because I was like a woodpecker with its head in a branch, except my head was in a pile of smack.

I hang my head over the toilet, vomit pouring from my lips as my head reels with dizziness, my veins aching as Tansy rests against the bathtub, slobber rolling down her chin from being in the same position I'm in only a few seconds ago. 

Our burnt spoons and sharp smelling foils are left to the floor as we're taken over by a monster bigger than ourselves, the sound of Slash, Steven, Duff, and Vivian's laughter from the hallway creeping past my door, slipping under the bathroom's door, pushing through the smoke and mirrors, nearly shattering my high before it even has its full start.

The next night results in the same outcome, only this time, I've decided to pick myself up with help from my favorite smoke, except the hit from the crackpipe comes with the expected.

Sweat beads down my back as I shake, curled up in the bathtub with the shower's curtain pulled, hearing the footsteps of my room's intruder. 

"Nikki?" A familiar voice calls softly, but the demon in my ear overpowers my want to go to her. 

I curl further into myself, squeezing my eyes closed, my shaking hand gripping at the cross around my neck that belongs to her. 

"If you're real just make it go away." I'm saying before I can stop myself. "Help me cut this shit, and give me my wife back." 

I knew I hit rock bottom when I prayed to a God I didn't even believe in…and I guess, in the end, my prayer was answered, but fuck if I didn't get in my own way.

I finally coax myself out of the tub after a few more minutes, seeing the light is off in my room under the door, before I open the bathroom door, my hair standing on end, my bare, ragged feet moving as quietly as I can move them as I pad onto the carpet, stepping to the bed where a figure is laid out, the shine of red hair across a pillow radiating from the bathroom light drifting into the room. Peaceful, sleeping features show no threat, but something wicked is beating in my head as I slowly approach her, my boney knuckle rubbing at her cheek, slowly, opting a tired, soft moan to leave her, her body shifting before stilling. 

I know it's bullshit. It's a facade. I know she's waiting for me to fall out so she can leech off of me. 

Fucking witch. 

If I pass out, she'll strike, and I won't make it out alive. 

Her nails are clawing blood from my arms as she gasps out, kicking her feet when my hands lock around her throat, my eyes glossing over as she tries to scream out. 

Her hand bangs, hard, against the wall the bed is against, her hands trying to fight me off as tears roll down her cheeks, her face beginning to turn a deeper shade of red. 

"Nikki, what the--Nikki, what the fuck?!" I hear Fred's voice, but I hear it as if I'm under water, my focus captivated completely as my eyes burn into Vivian's before I'm being snatched off of her and thrown into the floor. 

She's a coughing, gagging, gasping, crying mess. 

"What the fuck, Nikki?!" Fred yells at me and I look at Vivian. 

It's as if I'm coming back to myself, the reality of what I just tried to do…

What the fuck, Nikki? You already fucking shot her, and now this? If you don't get your shit together you won't have a fucking wife to patch things up with!

What am I saying? I already don't. She's fucking Duff. 

She's legally married to me, but emotionally she's already been single for months, now.

I didn't strangle her because I was pissed over Duff. I strangled her because in my fucked up paranoia I was convinced she was going to kill me, first. 

The truth was she wasn't. Duff, on the other hand, definitely considered it once he found out. But I don't blame him for it, now.

The next night, I feel my lip curl as I spot greasy, unkept hair, and scabbed, yellow skin. 

Sparkie's smoking a cigarette, his arm around Tansy. 

Its fucking pathetic. 

He's contributing to her demise--if not the reason it kickstarted in the first place--and she still looks at him like he's the only dude on the fucking planet and she can't get enough. 

My mind drifts to what would happen if by freak chance Vivian did decide to try something with him. 

It makes my skin crawl to think of Vivian in the same position as Tansy: doped up, exhausted to the point she can't fight back when she's pimped out by him, worn down…

The mere idea of it makes bile rise to the back of my throat. 

The fact Tansy's gone through it only adds to my nausea. 

I hold it in and step past them, glaring at Sparkie. 

"Stay away from my fucking wife." I threaten him and he flinches a little. 

Pussy. 

I spot Axl shooting a death glare at him from the corner of my eye. 

He looks pissed as a hornet, his sharp jaw clenching and unclenching as Vince and Tommy walk past him to get ready to go on stage. 

I hear Skylar crying from the dressing room with Sharise--they came down a few nights ago. 

I look back to Axl, tension getting tighter and tighter in his body. 

All it takes is Sparkie clapping his hands one good, loud, time, just to see Tansy's jittering, withdrawal-beginning, body nearly jump out of it's own skin. 

This does it. 

Out of fucking nowhere Axl is tackling him like a linebacker, not giving the walking incarnate of an STD time to think before he's beating the shit--literal, shit--out of him, the putrid smell taking up space backstage, making me and the guys gag as Fred, Doc, and Izzy try to get the pissed redhead off the junkie.

I expect Tansy to be screaming or crying like usual when someone gives Sparkie what his punk-ass deserves, but she makes no protest to Axl. 

I immediately look away when Viv comes into the picture, a look of worry on her face as Axl yells: "Bitchy little princess, I'll give you a fucking reason to go fucking shoot up!" 

The smell of Sparkie's shit continues to permeate the area as Doc and Fred get him away from Axl. 

Tansy just stands still, her big, blue eyes blinking at Axl.

I meet Vivian's gaze, noticing the cake of makeup covering her neck, and a pit is dug into my stomach. 

Fuck. 

"Dude, you good?" Tommy asks me, and I nod. 

"Yeah, just grossed out." I mumble, seeing Izzy leaning against the wall, dry heaving from the smell as Viv and Duff coax Axl down the hall to their dressing room.

Me, the guys, Emi and Donna all get into position, and I try to shake off all the shit that's happened, because we need to have a kickass show. 

As soon as mine and Mick's cue hits, and I'm face-to-face with thousands of people who all want a piece of me, I can't control uneasiness of my stomach, and when I take a moment to grab a drink of water, my throat ignites when I down a gulp of vodka, instead. 

What the fuck? 

I figure it's set aside for Mick, and try not to let it happen again. 

Only I do. 

Repeatedly throughout the show.

And that on top of smack, on top of the Jack Tommy and I chug during part of the show, leaves me sloppy as hell and stumbling off stage come curtain call. 

I see two Duff's stomping over to me, looking the most mean I've seen him ever look, Vivian on his heels. 

"Hey, man, wha--" 

I don't have time to finish my question. 

He knocks the shit out of me in the blink of an eye, and I stumble back, not able to react in time before he's shoving through Fred and Doc, giving another punch to my cheek, but I strike back this time, twice, before he just starts waylaying me relentlessly, Vivian screaming, stupid enough to try to get between us before Izzy's yanking her away. 

I feel my skin split under the pressure of one of Duff's rings, my vision spotty before he's thrown back by Fred and Axl. 

"You mother fucker!" He screams at me viciously as Doc comes to my side. "You stay the fuck away from her, you understand me?!" 

"Duff, it was an accident!" Vivian cries out hoarsely. 

"Look at your fucking neck! How is that a fucking accident?!" He's so pissed he's nearly in tears, too, and I feel my heart pound as I see where the makeup has been smeared off of Vivian's neck, revealing dark bruises in the shape of my fingers. 

"He was high!" Vivian insists.

"He was high when he shot you, he was high when he proposed to another woman, he's high everytime he treats you like shit, he was high when he fucking tried to kill you last night…" Duff rambles off, his face bright red. "...Stop excusing his bullshit with 'he was high', he's not high--that's just who the fuck he is, now!" He shouts, her feelings hurt from the looks of her expression. 

"Come on over here and see who the fuck I am, now!" I can't help but to spit out, even though I'm in no position to win a fight. 

"No, no!" Fred scolds as he and Doc are in front of me while Steven and Axl stay with Duff, trying to calm him down. 

First Axl and Sparkie, now me and Duff, all in one night. 

I bet Fred and Doc regret bringing them on tour, too, because I sure as shit do. 

If I felt like arguing anymore I'd ask Duff how my balls taste since that's where Vivian's mouth spent a good amount of time the past six years...if I wanted them to know that I know about them, I'd say it. 

If I knew it would make a difference, I would. 

But I know it won't, so I keep my mouth shut. 

[canaryatlaw]

ugh, I'm so tired. today was...not bad, I'll give it that. I was stressed about court but our one case got called first (because the coordinators like me) so that was done quickly, and then I had the hearing for that big case that ended up turning into basically nothing, because the judge didn't actually take any testimony, just granted it based on the affidavit, and I was too relieved to be irritated I did all that prep for nothing. I'm just so happy it worked out because honestly if we failed for a second time I don't think I'd ever be able to forgive myself for that. I'm hoping to get her set up with and advocacy agency that's international but mostly focuses on Asian countries (I actually have a few clients with them where the client is from South Asia, so it's always a learning experience. A good part of the rest of my day ended up getting hijacked by a motion to reinstate a case that had to be filed today or the case was gone forever, so that was a whole process, and they're so bad dealing with motions and our in office person for the day was like, the head of our organization, so like my boss' boss, and she's being sent on this wild goose chase trying to get this done and I'm just cringing so hard that she had to do all of that, but thankfully we did get it filed. We didn't end up seeing a judge on it, but the important part is that it was filed today, so I'm good there. I had another client email be today basically saying (with no details) the private attorney she ended up going with has blown thought $3,000 being on the case, and was charging her $630. Like I'm sorry, that's beyond fucking ridiculous, it really was. and then she sent me the last thing he sent her and the entire thing was completely wrong and would've gotten her screwed off, so hopefully that lawyer will withdraw and we can pick it up. I was just so fucking mad that this stupid idiot took on a case he clearly was not qualified to handle, at $630 an hour, and just getting everything so wrong, it pissed me the hell off. Hopefully we'll be able to pick that one up again. Once court was done I listened to some podcasts for a bit and then had dinner, at small group was at 7. I really like this group and the chances we get to share things and build each other up, it's just been really special to a lot of us, and that's definitely appreciated. After that I looked to see if anything had recorded, but apparently everyone was off this week, so I watched Scrubs for a bit and then turned on Jimmy Kimmel for a bit before showering and getting ready for bed, and yeah no I am here and SO TIRED so I'll end this here. Goodnight my friends. Hope your week is going well.

[bungoustraydogsbigbang]

We’ve come to the end of the Soukoku Big Bang 2019! Before we move on to the master post for 2019, we would like to express our sincerest thanks to all of you. It has been a wild ride and us mods couldn’t thank our participants enough for being such lovely people to work with. There’ll also be a feedback form the participants can fill in! The link will be distributed through email and shared in our discord server. We would like to know how you think about us and how you would like us to improve through our feedback form!

If you missed your chance this year, don’t worry, we’ll be back again in 2020! Do stay tuned for some exciting information on where this event will be going next year! We have some “big news” waiting for you!

Without further ado, here’s the masterpost for all entries of Soukoku Big Bang 2019! 

M A S T E R P O S T

It Was Worth Trying by MidnightLightHowlite | Art by Misa

Rating: General Audiences

Seeing Dazai float face down in a river was not all that unusual. True, it hadn't happened in four years, but the view was not exactly a foreign one. No, what was foreign was the fact that Dazai seemed to be shorter. And younger. And didn't remember him. In retrospect, Chuuya probably shouldn't have let the boy call Mori because that allowed his boss to put him on babysitting duty.

(Or Dazai gets deaged. No romance will happen till they are both the same age again.)

Bandaged Sheep by MidnightLightHowlite | Art by Abel

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

There had been something very weird, very off about the new recruit. He had popped up out of thin air a few months ago, wrapped from head to toe in bandages. Not a word of what he did before, saying he wanted to join the sheep. He wasn't strong or skilled, and truly, there was no logical reason for Chuuya to pay him any mind.

But then the Port Mafia put a huge bounty on his head and things started to get interesting

these days, you’re fine by AquarianTwin | Art by Nella

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Fifth-grade classmates Q and Aya are convinced that their older brothers would make a perfect pair if they’d just stop fighting for five minutes. Dazai and Chuuya, who have been dating for over a year, find this too funny to correct them.

Dazai takes in his younger sibling, Q, after they’re removed from their father’s home. Overwhelmed by the responsibility of raising of a child when he can barely keep himself alive some days, Dazai leans on his partner, Chuuya, to help lead him through. It’s a good thing Q gets along so well with Chuuya’s younger sister, but Dazai thinks he might die of laughter if the pair try to “secretly” set him up on another date with his own boyfriend.

Project Pinocchio by EKmisao | Art by Ginny

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

What kept the youngest mafia executive alive enough was a new file, on a newly-acquired powerful cyborg. It started as a project to keep a cyborg a boy. It became more than he expected.

Outrunning Fate by RocketJams | Art by Nanamin

Rating: Not Rated

Chuuya laid in the hospital bed, his consciousness slipping away slowly as he patiently awaited his demise. The doctors had assured him he wouldn't feel a thing but for some reason he couldn't shake this feeling his chest. An subtle pain which at this point had coaxed his stomach into a frenzy. Something was wrong but there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

In Isolation He Thrived by Maddy | Art by Leo

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

All his life Dazai felt like a tool, a pawn that was just tossed aside when not needed. He was looked down on and felt useless, so slowly a fire ignited within him and turned him into a merciless person also well known as a "Soulless Demon".

He always believed he was destined to do wrong until one day when he finds Chuuya who proves him wrong.

S8 (TBA)

i step from here without you by fatimé | Art by eva

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

“I used Corruption because I trusted you,” Chuuya gasps out, and the words leave a hole the size of Yokohama in his chest. He punches Dazai right where that hole is and hopes it hurts him just as much as it hurts Chuuya.

Dazai smiles. He catches him when his vision finally goes dark and the next thing Chuuya wakes to is emptiness in his heart and a stack of neatly folded clothes.

In one universe, they’re partners-turned enemies, the former Double Black, the most fearsome duo in Port Mafia history. They’re Soukoku and they’re spiteful and they’re tangled up in one another more than they’d care to admit.

In another, they’re—

S10 (TBA)

In Blood we are Sealed by Chaosia | Art by RedZeverin

Dazai stared at his subordinate and the white tiger passed out on the ground, dismayed. It almost worked. This was the fourth person they've went to. There was one more person Dazai could take Atsushi to but he had enough reason to guess that it wouldn't work.

Dazai made a face.

There was one person Dazai knew who could do the job. He'd successfully commit suicide though before that gremlin ever found out he had such thoughts. The taste of metallic filled his mouth. He held in the urge to spit it out.

His ears rang as he imagined a shrieking voice yelling his name like it was the worst insult one could come up with and the mirage of fire that surrounded those blue eyes and foul mouth. Ugh, he was so annoying even in his imagination...and short.

Sticking a pinky into his ear to clear out the haunting voice, Dazai went about gathering up his apprentice and the tiger. Maybe fate would take pity on him and this next trip would solve their problem...

He could feel the cursed blood laughing at him all the way back to their hotel room.

Or a magical AU where Dazai inadvertently gets Atsushi cursed and they have to go to Chuuya, a powerful witch in his own right, to break it.

S14 (TBA)

Quatervois by TheWanderingTanteiThief | Art by King

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Quatervois (n.) a crossroads; a critical decision or turning point in one's life

Chuuya didn't expect to see a man hanging from a tree.

Chuuya didn't expect to meet the man again.

Chuuya certainly didn't expect the man to be the crown prince of the kingdom.

...or cardverse au where Dazai is an asshole and Chuuya just wants to have a peaceful life. Is that too much to ask?

flaws and all by alli | Art by phryn

The transition Dazai and Chuuya routinely make between their heated arguing and completely seamless teamwork is being disrupted by their changing relationship. Which is an issue, because the two of them have been assigned to what could possibly be the most important undercover mission of their careers. Will they be able to strengthen their partnership for the better, or will it crack under the ever growing pressure?

-

As much as he craved that, as easy as it would be to do, it terrified him.

So, he didn’t.

Mirror Mirror In My Eye by MidnightLightHowlite | Art by cchibikko

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Dazai didn't have much hope for the next few years of Hogwarts, but would have liked to wait at least a few till Arahabaki noticed him.

Never such luck for the resident mummy.

School year was already shitty as it was, but now he has a fiery angry redhead demanding answers he's not ready to give

School year was already shitty as it was, but now he has a fiery angry redhead demanding answers he's not ready to give

Fuck.

thy kingdom come by chubsthehamster | Art by Stella Rasu

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

In a bid to save their continent from destruction, the kingdoms of Ada and the Port Mafia must put aside their years of tension to form an uneasy alliance. An act of holy matrimony unites Princes Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya, marking the beginning of an infamous partnership.

The affair is strictly political, and perhaps for the better. The two hate each other from the beginning.

should we never meet again by setosdarkness | Art by phryn

Rating: Mature

Sixteen women have been killed by a vicious serial killer haunting Yokohama’s streets.

Dazai has been chosen to become a part of the elite Bloody Valentine Task Force, even if he personally thinks that it’d be a lot more fun to stay at home with his boyfriend. Especially since it took years to convince Chuuya to finally move in with him.

It’s just a coincidence that Chuuya’s agreed to move in with him the moment he’s been chosen to become a part of the Task Force, right?

Resolving the Matter in Spirit by ASentientSlug | Art by Tomomorey

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Dazai's boring, everyday life ends in an accidental double suicide, but instead of facing the sweet release of endless sleep, Dazai finds himself in the Spirit World, where nothing is familiar and dangerous, soul-eating spirits lurk behind every corner. To get out, Dazai must confront the ghosts of his past and the ghosts of his present when one very familiar and yet very dangerous spirit takes Dazai under his wing.

If We Ever Meet Again by Luc | Art by Saiel

Rating: Mature

It all started with diamonds.

Chuuya thinks he would've been just as attracted to it if it wasn't for the equally shiny police badge in his pocket.

It all ends with a silver bullet.

For someone as talented in the dance of crime, Dazai has developed quite a bias about the jewels that would catch anybody's fancy.

Diamonds? They're overrated. Old. Boring.

Rubies? Sapphires?

Now those—

—those are worth getting caught for.

keep your windows open by Maristella | Art by Einjjjj

Rating: General Audiences

Usually, whenever Chuuya jumped, he flew.

This was not one of those times.

(Or, alternatively, where Chuuya breaks into Dazai's mansion as a thief, and comes out as a kidnapper. Even though he's also sort of a kid. And it's also not kidnapping.)

(Not when the victim bribed the kidnapper to take him.)

“You do know that the treasure doesn’t exist, right?”

“The what?”

“The treasure. You know, the one in the rumours. It doesn’t exist.”

“…are you screwing with me?”

“No?”

“I’m not an idiot. If there’s no treasure, why else are you here then?”

“Um…this is my house?”

(Also featuring: Chuuya and the different types of falling.)

half of my half by keptein | Art by manwe.russingon

Rating: Mature

No one understands why Dazai’s dæmon looks like a boy more often than not.

Book One: Fire by chuuzuke | Art by wandiwoo

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Avatar The Last Airbender/Korra AU: The world has changed. Technology can meet nearly every need, to the point where bending is considered a relic of the past, and with it, the Avatar. In fact, no one has seen the Avatar for nearly 100 years, and most people prefer to keep it that way.

Nakahara Chuuya, Prince of the Fire Nation, more than understands what it's like to be considered a relic. After the Fire nation moved to a parliamentary system, the title of Fire Lord is a largely ceremonial one, and Chuuya struggles under the burden of an office that restricts his every move without giving him any actual power to enact change.

When he runs away, intent on finding his own path, it seems like fate when he runs into Dazai Osamu, a mysterious man who claims he has a way to cure the unexplained illness Chuuya has suffered from his whole life.

peace lily by intimatopia | Art by phryn

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

They say you don’t truly know a person until you live with them. Dazai and Chuuya would argue that they know more about each other than one ought to know about anyone else.

Or: Mori forces 15 year old Dazai and Chuuya to share a flat because he doesn’t trust them to be on their own, and he thinks it’ll be a good way for them to bond.

Dazai and Chuuya think he's a sadist.

Two rambunctious teen boys, left to their own devices in a multi-million dollar penthouse. What could possibly go wrong?

of flowers and verses by lua & lanipalmer | Art by Yahuri

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

For years, Nakahara Chuuya has been pining over the ex-mafioso himself, Dazai Osamu. So what better to vent than through poetry? Combined with his (frankly, alarming) knowledge of flower languages, this is a story about Chuuya and his frustrations and desires.

Still Worth Fighting For by Maru | Art by ewe

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

"In which Chuuya never joins the port mafia, stops using his ability for fighting out of guilt, and later becomes a hacker.

His life had been relatively peaceful until one day, Dazai appears again at his doorstep asking for his help to find information on ‘The Rats.’"

The Necromancer by Ru | Art by etsuki_haru

Rating: Mature

If you venture into the slums of Suribachi City, you’ll find the witch Dazai Osamu, known as the Necromancer, and his barely tamed beast, Arahabaki. If you bring to him the bones of someone, he will bring that person back to life - in exchange for some of your lifespan. But bringing a soul back from the dead turn a heart twisted. Did you get your wish, or dig your own grave? These are the grim tales of a witch and a creature, trying to figure out their humanity, overseeing the consequences of taking death too lightly.

S34 (TBA)

fire and calamity by Jasmine | Art by Zen

Arahabaki has left its vessel, leaving Chuuya in a comatose state. Dazai and the rest of the ADA now have to track the god down and capture it for two reasons. One, because Chuuya knows the whereabouts of the Book. Two, because if they don't, they lose him forever. (ADA!Chuuya, established!SKK)

S38 (TBA)

fight our way to heaven by kiwi | Art by chicchii

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

The redhead had a fire in him that made Dazai want to poke and prod until he could see the limits. Chuuya was so alive and for the first time since Dazai could remember, he wanted to taste and feel that fire.

What he didn’t account for was that the decision to follow Chuuya would lead him to discovering memories he didn’t know he had and it would make them a target for all ability organizations in Yokohama.

Or the one where we have teen skk against the world.

Everything Comes Back To You by Catsby | Art by Mai

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

In the period after the war for the Book, the Port Mafia finds itself in need of a Boss. The logical choice for that position would be Chuuya - except Chuuya has gone missing.

Après Un Rêve by manwe.russingon | Art by Sebby

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

"I wandered long, methought, alone

to the deep shadow where the dead dwell,

but ever a voice that I knew well,

like bells, like viols, like harps, like birds,

like music moving without words,

called me, called me through the night,

enchanted drew me back to the light!"

Nakahara Chuuya, the elven lord commander of the kingsguard of kingdom of Mirkwood, singing in the woods. With a sudden intervention from Dazai Osamu, a mysterious being that was caught in between his tunes, they became best friends afterwards. Or perhaps it is more than that?

Time to time, one story comes with another. The truth finally unveils, and the clock is ticking faster. What exactly is Dazai? Why does he act so familiarly to Chuuya? And perhaps the biggest question we need the answer is: What makes them always connected, even for thousands of years?

S42 by chuuzuke | Art by willofjokerXIX

Lost All Judgement by todxrxki | Art by Yahuri

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

“Uh, sorry, but unfortunately I already have a date to the dance.”

“Oh, really?” Tachihara says, sounding disappointed. He pauses for a second, clearly processing what Chuuya’s just told him, and then says, “Who is it?”

Chuuya certainly hadn’t budgeted for this.

Panicking, he tries to think of the people that he knows that are single, and before he knows it, the first name that comes to mind is slipping out of his mouth. “With Dazai.” / After a momentary lapse in judgment, high school student Chuuya ends up having to pretend to date his enemy Dazai to get Tachihara off of his back - and quickly finds it's nowhere as bad as he'd imagined.

Of Boxers and Bachelors by writingfromtheshadows | Art (1 & 2 & 3) by Angella

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

When Dazai Osamu gets cut off from the family's coffers in an attempt to regulate his behavior, he decides to find a way around his father's ultimatum. Faking an engagement with an underground boxer sounds like the perfect scandal...

Crimson Memoirs by Luneath & Abel | Art by lefterstein

Rating: Mature

By the power of great ancient magic, supernatural beings are aptly hidden just behind the eyelids of humans. Vampires, witches, weres, faeries – all of them live and exist out of the fairy tales books.

Humans' eyes are just shielded into not comprehending their true nature, their magic, and their trickery. To protect them, the Gods say. But Dazai has always known that he’s no ordinary human. From the gift of seeing beyond the magic veil to the peculiar dreams to the aching, hollow feeling hugging his chest in a tight embrace – he knows he’s different.

What Dazai doesn’t know is that this isn’t the start of his story and the stranger with glowing blue eyes that have always been the center of his recurring dreams. What Dazai doesn’t know is that this is not exactly his first life. Dazai doesn't know a lot of things. But with time, he will come to know that he doesn't mind dying the second time for Chuuya.

entanglement by Shinkirou | Art by Zevy

Rating: Mature

Not everyone has a destined partner. Theoretically, even Dazai and Chuuya aren't supposed to. Are being programmed not to, even.

But whether they're "meant" to be together or not is irrelevant. Dazai wants Chuuya to be his, and so Chuuya will be his.

... If only it were actually that simple.

pointless by Lua | Art by Behax

Rating: Explicit

It was an annoyance after everything that happened, and yet, Chuuya found himself on the doorsteps of a man that he had more than enough reasons to kill. He could come up with excuses, but he was not in the habit of lying to himself. At times, Chuuya would describe their relationship as an addiction he couldn't get rid of. This was ridiculous. Dazai was now a traitor and a coward; what did that make of Chuuya himself to know where to find him and keep that a secret?

Latent Identities by RocketJams | Art by Seiran

Rating: Explicit

He could deny it however many times he wanted to, but Dazai could see through it every time. The lies over his lips, the false smiles and misleading words. He could fool anyone else into believing he was who he said he was. Though whenever he smiled, Dazai could feel it. Something was wrong, he wasn't Chuuya.

N6 (TBA)

Before I Fall by hellosweetie17 | Art by Nanamin

Rating: Explicit

Chuuya’s oblivious to the circumstances surrounding their fragile world; Dazai’s made sure of it.

Mighty Long Fall by quinnlocke | Art by Xoinks

Rating: Mature

When Dazai betrays the ADA for the Port Mafia, he’s greeted as the prodigal son. That doesn’t mean he’s trusted, however, and now that he’s betrayed the Port Mafia and ADA alike, he has far more enemies than friends. As Dazai works to survive the heart of the viper’s nest, it quickly becomes clear that Chuuya will save him - or be the reason he fails.

Chuuya, meanwhile, knows Dazai too well to trust that his cards are on the table. But as he finds himself at Dazai’s mercy, and caught between loyalties, he realizes there’s no other option but to master the god that lives beneath his skin and hope he survives long enough to protect the organization to whom he’s sworn his life.

But first they both must realize that a mighty long fall awaits.

moonshine voyage by setosdarkness | Art by Behax

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Dazai's plan to stop Fyodor involves sacrificing his life. He should have known that even the best-made plans are useless when there’s someone like Chuuya out there, who just won’t stop saving him.

A journey of growing and growing old together.

[or: chuuya saves dazai's life by linking their souls & lifespans together]

Lifeline by Abel | Art (1 & 2 & 3) by phryn

Rating: Explicit

Nakahara Chuuya is a normal kid. He has two parents who loves him very much even though he's not really their son. He's a good student even though he's not on top. He's popular and has a lot of friends. Everything in his life is fine-- perfectly fine.

Until he bumps into another kid his age, bandages wrapped all over him. Dazai Osamu-- he said his name was, with a tone of amusement and yet tinged with longing.

Little did he know, that fated meeting will change his life forever.

Can’t Be Tamed by stargazerlilith | Art by Abel

Rating: Explicit

The boss of the Port Mafia is merciless against those who oppose him.

Well he was, until he resigned himself to the fate of the notorious dating app known as Tinder.

We hope you enjoy the masterpieces made by our talented participants! See you again next year!