#it doesn't feel like a team book is my point

[jewishcissiekj]

maybe it's just me but the current (adjectiveless) X-Men series sometimes feels more like a Cyclops solo series than an X-Men comic

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hello! I would like to make a request about Dae-Ho, a character I love. I would like the story to show how Dae-Ho and the reader develop a special connection during the games, despite being on opposite sides. She is part of Thanos' team, but they still interact frequently. On one of those nights, they kiss and promise to get to know each other better once it's all over. However, that promise is not fulfilled because she dies in the carousel game.

I hope this story fits the bill. Happy holidays! <3

Anything Is Possible?

KANG DAE-HO X READER

Summary- You are number 230's, rapper Choi Su-bong, sister. Just because you are on 'Thanos Team', does that mean you can Dae-Ho cant get together? Will you survive long enough?

Warnings- Squid Games, Angst, mentions of blood, murder, and death

A/N- I combined this ask with another anon request, "badass reader and daeho! maybe she is related to 100 and that's why the romance is kind of forbidden but she doesn't agree with his actions and thinks daeho is very cute. I would love a first kiss between the two, which she initiated and he was all embarrassed but really excited" I hope y'all don't mind, they were very similar!

Word Count- 4,605

"What is your problem!" You found yourself yelling at your brother. While this was not uncommon, the situation surely was. Thanos the rapper, or just known as Choi Su-bong to you, had pushed several people down on purpose. This killed them in the Red light, Green light game.

"You killed them!" You continued, though he did not seem to care.

"Look, as far as 'The Thanos' is concerned, each body means more cash for MOI!" He spoke, uncaring.

"Oh, and if it was me, would you let me get shot!" You crossed your arms, eyeing him up and down.

He looked around, checking for any guards. He then slipped out his cross form under his shirt. You knew he had some kind of drug in there.

"Look, if it will shut you up, you can have one. But keep your mouth closed!" He ushered his cross in your direction. You rolled your eyes.

"I'd like to at least be aware of my surrounding in a death defying game!" "Shhh, Shhhh!" His face scrunched up as he looked at you, offended. He thought someone might have been drawn to your choice words.

You scoffed and walked off, sitting on the edge of a bed to catch a train of thought.

With a puff, you pressed your head into your hands. Could you really go on like this? Risking your life? Then it hit you, your life was over either way. Loan sharks were bound to kill you the second you left... Might as well go out with a bang?

The gruesome thought lingered until you felt the bed sink next to you.

"Thanos, I don't want to-" You looked up to not see your brother. Instead a man with a '388' on his jacket.

"Well I'm not sure who 'Thanos' is, but are you doing okay?" He looked genuinely concerned.

You started at him for a second, "Like fifty people just died..."

He faltered, "W-well yeah... Obviously you aren't okay... I just, I saw you arguing with that guy... The one with purple hair." You sigh again at his response. Well, this might be the last conversation you ever have. Why not be an open book!

"That's my brother. He thinks since he got one hit song, he can boss anyone around." You again rolled your eyes at the thought of him.

"Oh... I see. I-I have three older sisters, I know how it can get." He said, trying to offer you some sort of condolence.

You gave a side smile at him, appreciative of his efforts. "Thanks... What got you into these games?" You figured there's no reason for 'proper exchanges.' What was the point anymore?

He seemed ashamed at the question. "Sorry, if it makes you feel any better- I'm about 30 million won in debt. Some online crypto coin my brother swindled me into. Lost big time." You explained.

He shook his head, "No, no, its fine. See, I was a marine. Couldn't find a job after I got out. Guess I just got carried away with the wrong people... Got into some bad loans."

You gave a sympathetic face. "That sucks..." He just nodded sheepishly.

A silence fell between you two, but it wasn't awkward or annoying. It just...was.

"Well, uh, which are you going to vote?" He asked like it had been on the tip of his tongue all day.

As the Guards had told us earlier, we would get a chance to vote before the next game. Stay or Go.

"My brother seems pretty adamant on staying... And I honestly don't think it would be smart to piss him off anymore. He's got me in his little clique already." You didn't really know which one you would have chosen if the vote was anonymous.

He nodded in understanding. "I mean, I don't have a groupie or anything. But, you could stick with me if you wanted."

Your heart fluttered. Looking up at him, you seemed to just notice how handsome he was... Then reality hit.

"I deeply appreciate that... But I think you might have better odds without me. Choi- uh Thanos, would probably do something to you... I don't really want to risk it, I'm sorry." You knew that you really did want to be on his team, but you also knew how your brother was.

He had a slight look of defeat on his face, "I get it. I feel confident about the next game. I mean, if they're all children games, how hard can it be? I'll vote the same as you."

You agreed, "Then, maybe I can talk to Thanos? See if he wants another member?" You smiled at him.

He opened his mouth to speak, happily, but the two of you were interrupted when the pink guards came back in. Letting everyone know it was time to vote.

"See ya on the other side." You said, standing up to rejoin Thanos. Plus his newly acquired group of 3.

"Yes ma'am!" He responded, giving a small salute. You just laughed as you glanced at him a last time.

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

"Are you crazy!" Thanos whisper-yelled at you, turning the two of you away from the group. "Are you tryna embarrass me in front of my boys!" He scolded you like a child. His arms and shoulders going up.

"It's not that big of a deal, he was a marine, he could be good for us." Thanos just "tsked' in response.

"No. We are already perfecto. No more room." He said as-a-matter-of-fact. His arms making an 'X.'

You turned and looked at the two men staring at you. "Thanos, there are four of us in total. What if the next game is five players!"

"Huh, and what if its four! Then I'd be pushing YOU out, Cause of ya mouth." He made faces at you, then laughed loudly. "I'm just joking sistah! I'd only do that if you really pissed me off.... We are sticking to four." His expression turned serious.

"Fine."

At a mere coincidence, you turned around and saw '388' staring at you. You mouthed a 'sorry' and shook your head. Signalling Thanos said 'no.'

He nodded, then smiled at you anyways. At that, you watched him walk over and sit with a group of 'X's.

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

The lights soon went out. You laid back in your bed, trying to get some kind of sleep. It was useless, especially when you heard a 'psst' right next to you.

You turned your head, playing cool, even though it did startle you a bit. "Shh, It's just me." The voice rang familiar, and when you squinted your eyes in the dark your made out number 388's face. He was on his knees, crouched down next to your bed.

"What are you doing!" You whispered at him, sitting up quickly. Thanos and his two members were just a bed away.

"Shhhh, I have something to tell you." He said, his hands were waving slightly, a nervous tick.

You eyed him, moving closer. "What?"

"One of the guys has played these before. He said he won the games...That he knows which one is next."

Your hands rise to rub sleep from your eyes, "Really? You think he's telling the truth?"

With a frantic nod he continues, "It was the guy who knew about the Red light, Green light. Number 456."

You looked down, "Why are you telling me this..." You questioned, unaware of any kind of unconditional kindness.

"I want you to survive, why else?" You locked eyes with him. They were honest and pure.

"Well, what's the next game?" You didn't know how to respond to such generosity. For all he knew you would stab him in the back. Not that you could bring yourself to, not after he snuck over to tell you.

"He said its Dalgona. Ya know, the game where you scratch out the candy shape?" You knew the game, having played it in your youth.

"Make sure you pick the Triangle. It's the easiest one." You nodded.

At that, a shuffle made both of you turn your head. Thanos moved in his sleep, rolling over. His eyes were closed, but he was now facing you.

"You better go, in case he wakes up." You warned, not wanting any drama.

His head shook in agreeance, he raised to walk off.

"Wait!" You whispered, he looked back. "What's your name?"

"Dae-Ho. Dae-ho Kang."

"Thank you, Dae-ho..." The corners of your face rose, almost grinning at yourself saying his name.

He gave a small wave of his hand, another salute. You suppressed a giggle, and laid back down. Sleep came easier this time...

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

"Welcome to your second game, this game will be played in teams. Please divide into teams of five in the next ten minutes."

You looked around, Dalgona was not a team game. Had Dae-Ho lied to you? No, why else would he sneak over in the middle of the night. It didn't make sense. Maybe 456 was lying?

"Should have listened to me, now we have to find another person." You remarked to your brother, smugly.

"Trust trust, my skeptic sister. Thanos has got this under control!" He spoke about himself, immediately levitating to the closest attractive women. You, once again, found yourself rolling your eyes.

"Señorita, excuse me?" You wanted to physically face palm at his attempt at a pickup line.

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

Quickly enough, time selection was up. Everyone was orderly sat in their groups. Conveniently, Dae-Ho and his group sat behind you.

"Dae-Ho." You called, moving to be in his range of sight.

"Ahh, hey!" He said, excitedly. His demeanor changing from skittish when he saw you.

"So, what happened to Dalgona?" You asked, not blaming him- just curious.

He gave an unsure face, equally as confused. "He said the games must not be the same. I'm sorry."

"What for?" You beamed, knowing it was not his fault.

He laughed, "I guess I don't know.."

You just shook your head humorously. "Which game are you going to do?"

"Uhmm, Gong-Gi... My sister's played it a lot, so I'm used to it."

"They've got me doing spinning top. I was never any good at Gong-Gi." You made a glance to Thanos, he was high out of his mind. You caught him slipping Nam-Gyu a pill. He didn't notice you talking to Dae-Ho.

"I wish you the best of luck!" He gave a quick bow of the head.

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

The game went smoothly enough. Though, it took much longer than Red light, Green light. Watching all of the teams go one at a time was excruciating.

A handful of words exchanged with Dae-Ho while waiting was calming, it grounded you. He had nothing to gain by helping you, he simply did. It was flattering.

You and Dae-Ho had figured out that his team was going last. It was nerve-wracking to think about him not making it. No one had ever effected you like this before...

Eventually your team went, suffering frequent verbal degration from Thanos and Nam-Gyu. Thankfully your team made it with 8 seconds to spare. Too close for your comfort.

The worst part came when you had to wait. You felt like you could hear a large clock ticking right by your ear.

Would Dae-Ho's team make it? You didn't doubt his Gong-Gi skills, but he was dependent on the skills of his team mates as well. It was terrifying to think they were shot with not enough time to complete the games.

You couldn't bare Thanos bantering, he complained about every survivor. It just made you more paranoid about Dae-Ho's possible death.

Trying to settle your mind, you stepped away from your group, preferring to sit by yourself on the edge on the steps. You picked at your nails, praying he would make it.

Minutes and minutes went by. No one had come out in a while. Was the game finished? Did they die?

Just as you were about to return to your brother hopeless, one last group appeared.

A gasp left you as you watched Dae-Ho's team emerge. You stood up, cheering with a handful of other players. Your hands were clasped gleefully In front of you.

Dae-Ho's gaze was fixed on you, he chuckled. His first raised in victory.

You gave him a salute back.

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

You managed to slip away from Thanos. He was too busy hitting on Se-Mi. You were grateful for her, it took some of the pressure and attention off of you. You had to remember to thank her later.

"Dae-Ho!" You called out, he turned around and stepped away from his group.

"You were amazing! You went 'Wooshhh' and got the top first try!" He was practically bouncing on his heels. He mimicked the process of spinning a top with his hands and body.

"Thank you, Thank you." You pretended like you were bowing to an applauding audience.

"How did Gong-Gi go?" You asked, antsy. He rubbed the back on his neck.

He grinned deep, "Would you believe me if I said I got it first try too?"

Your face lit up, "Really!"

"I swear it!" He placed a hand across his chest.

You gave a quick clap to him, "I knew you could do it!"

You felt like a schoolgirl again. Talking to Dae-Ho made you feel like a blushing bride. He was such a ray of light and hope for you.

"What do you think the next game is?" He questioned, taking a seat on a step by the large doors.

You thought for a second, "I don't know, Maybe some kind of mind game. Since the last two have been really physical."

He nodded, "Yeah, maybe, maybe. Thats smart thinking."

You joined him on the step facing him. While you were about to change the conversation, you overheard a few people talk about what they were voting next. It reminded you of the real life-or-death situation you were in.

"So, d'ya think you're going to change your vote?" You became more solemn.

"...Yeah, I just... The others have convinced me. I mean, truly, I shouldn't have voted 'stay' in the first place..." He looked down, almost as if he had disappointed you.

"Honestly, Dae-Ho... I want to leave too... But, but, what if I press 'leave', and we still have to continue the games. Then Thanos would be pissed, and deep down I need him. He's still my brother." You hated the fact, but you were scared of what Thanos would do.

Dae-Ho thought for a moment. He mumbled something you didn't quite catch. "What?" He stood up.

"I can protect you. Honest. With my life." Your breath hitched, you stood up as well.

You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. "Oh Dae-Ho... That's just the thing. I can't have you risking your life. Not for me."

He gently lifted your hands into his. "You are worth risking my life for."

"Dae-Ho, you don't even know my name." Your voice quivered.

He nodded quick, "Then lets change that. What's your name." You bit your bottom lip before telling him.

"Now, I can defend you from Thanos. He won't do anything to do." He ended with your name, it sounded angelic coming from his mouth.

"I'm sorry... I just... can't." You let go of his hands, fully set on walking away. But, he stopped you. He grasped your shoulder.

"Please don't go. I'll stop talking about it, I swear." He pleaded. He truly just wanted to be with you, he was content with you.

And you were with him.

You closed your eyes, shook your head. You fought off any kind of objection. "Okay."

The two of you talked and talked, time ran past. You no longer seemed to worry about the games, just that you knew you wanted to stay with Dae-Ho.

Until, the large doors opened and the pink guards once again announced a vote.

You said a quick 'goodbye' to Dae-ho, hoping the games wouldn't continue. Even if you never saw him again, at least he would be alive.

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

Much to your dismay, the games would continue another round. The vote wasn't even close this time. It was almost relieving, knowing that your vote was not the determining factor.

Once again, the lights went out to signify the night. You noticed teams were huddling together for protection, taking shifts and keeping watch. It was getting more serious as each hour went by. You could not find rest, feeling extremely uneasy.

While you tried to find some sort of reassurance in Thanos, he was fast asleep. You decided to take your chance and go see Dae-Ho. Just as he had done for you.

You knew the general area where his group was, but couldn't make out specific people in the dark. Not from your distance.

You racked up the nerve to quietly shuffle over. Your socks helping to muffle any noise.

"Shh, someone is coming." You heard a man whisper, it was 456. You could see the large numbers next to the 'O' on his jacket.

"I-is Dae-Ho with you..." You ask, shakily.

"And what do you want with him?" A man next to 456 spoke, defensively.

"I- Hes my friend, I need to talk to him." You tried, fiddling with your fingers.

"Yeah, Sure he is. You're probably trying to get in and take one of us out, huh!" The man 390 rose, acting like he was ready to fight.

You stepped back, "No, really, I swear I'm not!"

You heard your name, a confused Dae-Ho crawled out from under a bed. "Dae-Ho, please tell them in not trying to kill any of you."

"What?" He was still weary from sleep, rubbing his eyes. Once he saw the position you and 390 were in, He quickly stepped between the two of you.

"No, No, she wouldn't do that. Really, whatever shes saying she's telling the truth." Dae-Ho came to your rescue.

"Can we talk Dae-Ho?" You stepped closer to him, both of your hands gently resting on his arm. He nodded rapidly, stepping away from his group.

The two of you found a cluster of abandoned beds, and sat on the floor between them

"Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?" He looked you over for any visible infliction's.

"No, no I'm fine..." You pulled your knees to your chest. "I just wanted to see you." You felt silly once it left your lips.

His face flushed beet red, you could even tell in the dark. His hair falling in his face made you reach a hand out and brush it back. "O-oh"

"You never told me what you think the next game is, Dae-Ho." You needed a distraction.

He shook his head, like he was getting some thoughts out. "I have no idea... I just hope its an easy one. Gi-Hun, uh 456, said that they've already played Tug-of-war, Marbles, and some kind of glass stepping game. So, uh, I would assume none of those would repeat."

"I'm glad I missed Tug-of-war... That would mean the number of survivors would be half..." You thought.

He changed the subject, beginning with your name. "What's wrong? I know you said you wanted to see me, but, I guess I don't understand why."

"Dae-Ho, I don't really know why either. I just, wanted to be with you. I feel safe with you. I feel like I'm alone anytime you walk away..." You blinked away a stray tear.

Dae-Ho was lost in thought, he had thought his feelings weren't reciprocated. Maybe they were after all?

He didn't have time to speak, because you have lounged yourself forward in a burst of confidence. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and pushed him to the floor. He was laid on his back with you on top of him, as you pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

His eyes widened, his body went rigid. When you pulled away to look at him, he stammered. "I-I, Uhm."

At his reaction you pulled away quickly, "I'm so sorry, I thought-"

"Can you please do that again." He was now giddy, a fat smile on his face. Excitement radiated out of him. "A-are you sure.. You seemed so..."

"No, no, you just caught me off guard, please, please kiss me again." He scrambled to a sit, hoping you would come closer again.

With a refound joy, you moved closer. This time you went slow, making sure to bask in the moment. You once again wrapped your arms around Dea-Ho's neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

"You're perfect.." He mumbled against your lips. Though, he felt something wet on his face. He pulled away, his eyes soft, "Whats wrong?"

You sniffled, "Promise me. Promise me, that after everything is over, that we will find each other." You asked, pressing your cheek against his.

"I swear it, I swear we will meet after the games." He leaned in for another kiss.

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

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle."

Okay, this one seemed safe. You had a large group, this can work. You tried to be positive, you had someone to look forward to after the game.

"Heyyy, we'll be mingling together. Doesn't that sound like so much fun?" Thanos went on, trying to hype everyone up. The only one who was just as high as him was Nam-Gyu. It worried you that he wasn't fully aware of his surroundings, but at least he wasn't on your tail about everything.

"Please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

You nodded, understanding the rules. Everyone gathered to the platform. You noticed groups staying together, huddling close.

While following Thanos, you passed Dae-Ho's group, you caught his eye and gave him a small salute. It seemed the two of you now had an inside joke.

"Let the game, begin."

At the jump and pull of the platform, you almost lost your balance. You reached a hand out and held onto your brother. He looked over at you, for a split second he actually seemed like your brother. He was there for you.

That's until a muffled snort came from Nam-Gyu. Thanos pushed your hand off, laughing at you.

You sighed and thought of a smart remark, but the platform stopped spinning and a 'Ten' rang out.

Thanos laughed loudly, "We needa four!!" He screamed, shaking his face all about.

"Were four!" A man yelled back, and Thanos took off running. Your eyes widened and you ran after him. "Run, Hurry!" You yelled at Se-Mi, who had stopped to grab Min-Su.

Luckily everyone had made it to the room, just as the door shut the timer went off. The door locked shut. You peaked out of the doors small slit. You didn't see Dae-Ho. A good sign.

Multiple gunshots rang out, each making your body jolt.

"Ha Ha! My family! We did it!" Thanos bantered, clapping some of the men on their backs.

When the doors finally opened again, you looked around. You looked and looked for Dae-Ho. Finally sighing in relief when you saw him. He ran over to you.

"You're okay, thank God!" He hugged you, you held him tight.

You swallowed hard, "It's not over yet. I'll find you after the next round!" You said, quickly finding Thanos again.

"Yeahhhh! Easyyy!" Him and Nam-Gyu joked back and forth. They started dancing to the music as the platform started rotating again.

'Four'

Thanos stopped and looked at his group for a minute. "Gyeong-su, you're with me!" He grabbed his hand, pulling him.

"Damn!" Nam-Gyu said, gripping your arm and pulling you. While you were happy to be chosen, you were worried for Min-su and Se-Mi.

"Lets goooo!" Thanos yelled once we were all in the room.

"Thanos what was that! Gyeong-su over me!" You pointed your finger at him.

"I swear I thought I was pulling you! Besides, you gotta stop running your mouth. You made it, you're fine!"

You couldn't believe what he was saying. Sure, he talked a lot about leaving you. But it was always just talk? Right?

The door opened once again, you were thankful to be away from Thanos. Your new objective was to find Dae-Ho now.

This time, the second you saw him- you ran to him. You no longer cared about what Thanos thought, nor what he'd do.

"I'm so happy to see you." Dae-Ho mumbled into your hair, which his face had been shoved into right after you ran into his arms.

"I have to stay with you, Thanos tried to leave me. I can't make it with him." Dae-Ho didn't hesitate, and pulled you over to his group.

Though, Thanos didn't like that. "Yo, brotha. What're you doing with my sister!" He tried to shove Dae-Ho, but he was bigger and stronger.

The platform started to spin.

"Leave her alone, you obviously cant take care of your sister." He ushered you behind him.

"I don't know what you're talking about bro! I save her, shes only alive because of me and Nam-Gyu!" He argued, leaving out the crucial part of information where he wasn't the one who grabbed you.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I will keep her safe now, you can mind your own business and get along with Nam-Gyu."

They continued to yell and argue over the carousel's music, it was difficult to hear them. Until,

'Three'

Thanos gripped one of your arms, Dae-Ho held another.

"Thanos, let go!" You yelled, trying to pull from his grasp.

It was chaotic, screaming was heard around you. "Dae-Ho, this way!" Two men yelled out, Dae-Ho twisted his head but didn't move.

Your stomach dropped. You couldn't be the reason Dae-Ho would die. You were all running out of time.

"Dae-Ho, go. Please! I'll go with Thanos and Nam-Gyu!"

"I'm not leaving you!" He was adamant about protecting you. Damned everyone else.

"If you don't go, we will all die. Time is running out!" Dae-Ho battled internally, you let go of his hand.

"Go! It's okay, I'll see you in a minute!"

He didn't want to leave, he couldn't. But you made him. When he slowly walked backwards, you let out a relived sigh. You then turned to run with Thanos. Nam-Gyu was already in a room, his yelling ushering you two forward.

It was going to be okay, The three of you in a room. Everything was fine. There was time.

Until, Nam-Gyu moved out of the way... Gyeong-su was behind him... There was already two in the room. Thanos ran in, not thinking twice.

Your running came to a stop right outside of the door. Where Thanos himself had closed it on you.

A "NO!" Was heard from across the room. It was Dae-Ho. He tried to come to you, but he was too far.

Player 456 and player 001 were pulling him into a room. Forcing the door shut. You could see Dae-Ho looking out of the door slit, his hands peaking out as well.

You didn't turn to see what Thanos might have been doing. You didn't care. Not anymore.

You just wanted your last moment to be looking at the most handsome man you'd ever met. His soft eyes were filled with tears as he watched you.

You weren't upset, not scared, not nervous. Not anymore.

It would all be over soon.

You gave him one last salute before a loud bang rang out.

A/N- Not going to lie ya'll, I ate that up. But I still love hearing y'all's constructive criticism! Please LMK if you want to be added to my tag list, TYSM for reading!

Dae-Ho Taglist- @fuzzyscissorsmakerpie-blog @thethreeeyed-raven

[mariasont]

What if the team has slowly been finding out that Spencer has a girlfriend, so one day while on a case they basically play 20 questions trying to figure her out. However, Spencer is struggling to answer because he’s dating reader and she works with the BAU. (sorry if that isn’t broad enough, I just wanted more of the secret relationship trope)

Dimple Deductions - S.R

summary: when morgan & jj notice spencer reid acting suspiciously happy, they do what they do best — profile him. unfortunately, spencer's biggest tell is your dimples pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: fluff, secret relationship, reader has dimples, morgan & jj being shit stirrers wc: 1.4k

Watching Spencer read feels vaguely inappropriate. His fingers ghost over the page before settling, skimming the text like he's absorbing it through sheer proximity. His lips part, just slightly, like he's tasting the words, rolling it over his tongue before swallowing it down, taking it apart, making it his. The cabin light catches in his hair, making his curls glow like some kind of bookish deity.

It's distracting, the way his throat bobs when he swallows, the unconscious flick of his lashes as his mind devours information faster than you can process a single thought.

He's mesmerizing in a way that feels almost unjust, a spectacle of intellect wrapped in a body far too beautiful for reason.

You don't even realize you're staring until he speaks.

"I will pay you to stop talking."

It's not aimed at you, Morgan and JJ are doing what they do best, picking apart his every move, but the sound of his voice breaks through you like a snapped thread, severing whatever trance you'd fallen into.

Morgan whistles, all amusement. "Now, why would you be so eager to change the subject, pretty boy?"

Spencer finally looks up, dragging his gaze upward with the slow resignation of a man who knows resistance is futile. He sighs, shaking his head.

"Because I value my peace?"

JJ grins, practically giddy now. "Too bad. We don't."

Your magazine is just a forgotten accessory now, lying stiff and ignored on your lap. Pulling your eyes from Spencer feels unnatural, but somehow, you manage.

You turn at last to JJ and Morgan, who are, without question, enjoying this way too much.

"What exactly are you guys talking about?" you ask, flipping the magazine with indifference, as if that somehow proves you'd been deeply invested in its pages and not making heart-eyes at Spencer.

JJ's eyes gleam with unfiltered delight. "Oh, just that Spencer here has been acting different lately."

"Suspiciously different," Morgan corrects, side-eyeing Spencer. "Relaxed. Preoccupied. Dare I say... a little too happy?"

"So, let me get this straight, you're bullying him for being in a good mood?" You cross your arms, biting your lip to keep from laughing, while Spencer looked genuinely offended.

Morgan stretches his arms behind his head, looking quite pleased with himself. "We're observing."

Spencer, who returns his gaze to his book, doesn't even flinch. "It's harassment."

"Wait. Wait." JJ points at Spencer, squinting. "Are you seeing someone?"

You tell yourself to be cool. Unbothered. Just another face in the crowd, a neutral bystander in this totally-not-terrifying conversation. You even try to breathe like you're not on high alert, but your body immediately mutinies, shoulders locking up, throat tightening, nerves snapping taut like piano wire. 

A single stupid, microscopic flinch that must, on some subconscious profiler level, set off JJ's internal alarm bells. Because she looks at you.

It's quick, so quick you almost miss it, but you feel it like a pinprick of static against your skin. A flick of her eyes, a fleeting brush of attention, there and then gone. 

Just as swiftly, she's back on Spencer.

Across from you, Spencer freezes for half a second. It's subtle enough that if you weren't staring at him, directly, shamelessly, obsessively, you might have missed it entirely.

Instead, you watch as he carefully schools his expression, turns a page, as if it matters, as if you couldn't see the calculations running in that big, brilliant brain, trying to find the most efficient escape route. 

And then, with a levelness that would be impressive if it weren't so obviously practiced, he finally says, "I don't see how that's relevant."

Morgan's smile is positively wolfish. The kind of smile that spells out, he smells blood in the water. "Oh, so that's a yes."

You watch Spencer. Closely. Nothing. Just that calm, emotionally bankrupt expression as he lifts his gaze, eyes so flat, so opaque, they may as well be made of glass.

"That's an assumption."

But Morgan isn't buying it. And then, he leans in. Hands clasped. You already know where this is going.

"Alright. First question. Is she blonde?"

"I am not doing this," Spencer says flatly.

"So... not blonde."

JJ taps her fingers against the table. "Brunette, then?"

Spencer exhales through his nose, all restrained patience, all carefully manufactured impassiveness. If you didn't know better, you'd think he still wasn't affected by the topic of conversation.

But you do know better.

He does this thing, barely a tell, not noticeable to an unloved eye, where his jaw tenses just slightly, the muscle feathering like a tremor beneath his skin. It's the same thing he does when you're being particularly difficult, when you're testing him, teasing him, saying something so unserious that he refuses to dignify it with anything more than this.

"This is ridiculous."

"You being weird about it is way more suspicious than just answering." Morgan shrugs.

Spencer clamps his mouth shut so hard, it's a miracle his teeth don't crack.

"Freckles?"

Spencer just presses two fingers to his temple like the headache they are causing him has officially become chronic. "This is — as I have said — harassment."

Morgan smirks. "Dimples?"

It stops Spencer mid-motion, like a misfire.

His fingers twitch, pull away from his temple, then hesitate midair, caught between freezing and fixing whatever just broke his expression. His mouth presses into a firm, flat line, but not before he falters, just once, lips parting like a reflexive inhale of shock he didn't mean to take.

JJ practically convulses, hands flying to her mouth as she gasps. "Oh my god, she has dimples!"

"See that? That was a pause, man. You're cooked."

Spencer snaps his book shut, the sound sharp, final, entirely too loud. 

His gaze cuts to you, like maybe he's checking to see if you're as deeply mortified as he is, and then he's back on Morgan and JJ.

"Even if, she hypothetically — had dimples, that means absolutely nothing," he starts, too fast, too precise, like he's clinging to logic as a life raft. "Dimples are present in roughly 20-30% of the population. That is millions of people. Trying to deduce someone's identity from that alone is not only statistically absurd, but frankly, beneath you."

Morgan and JJ exchange a look, one of those wordless, holy shit did he just say that? looks.

"So there is someone's identity to deduce?" 

A pause. A smirk.

"And she has dimples?"

They had kept going. Of course they had. 

More questions, each one shot off like a bullet with no time to dodge. What's her favorite colors? Does she drink coffee or tea? Dogs or cats? Landmine. Landmine. Landmine.

What does she do for work?

That last one had been dangerously close to blowing your cover.

Spencer had paused. Just long enough for you to panic. Long enough for your reflexes to kick in (literally), and you'd kicked him, hard enough in the shin under the table to snap him out of it. He'd blinked once, then shrugged, as casual as ever. 

Something intellectually stimulating, he'd said.

Which was, technically, not a lie. 

And Morgan and JJ had finally, finally let up after a while, though not before making sure Spencer left with at least three lingering smirks, two unsubtle eyebrow raises, and one last dig at his mysteriously happy mood.

It had been exhausting, but that was a tomorrow problem, because now you were home. 

Spencer's couch was too big for him but just right for you, and at some point, you had stopped being separate from him altogether, folded yourself into every available space he had left vacant, legs draped over his, arms wrapped loosely around his waist, cheeks smushed against his chest. 

It wasn't cuddling so much as absorbing him, your entire body molding to his like a particularly determined barnacle.

"You really almost sold us out there," you murmur, basically burrowed into his sweater. Your face is half-hidden, mostly because you are simply too tired to function, but also because he deserves to be shamed for this.

"The dimples, Spencer? Really?"

Spencer sighs, his chest rising and falling beneath you, fingers brushing over your spine. "I can’t help it. I really like your dimples."

You squint up at him. "Yeah, I noticed."

Spencer's lips twitch, just the faintest pull at the corners, like he's not entirely willing to let it happen. "They're cute."

His thumb presses into the hollow of your cheek, just barely, just enough to test it. Like he's confirming that, yes, it's real, it exists, and it belongs to him now.

Before you can roll your eyes and tell him to stop being ridiculous, he leans in.

And kisses it.

Like he's stamping his approval.

You let out a slow, lazy sigh as he pulls back, stretching out against him. "You really need to work on your poker face."

Spencer hums. "You think so?"

"I know so," you tease, shifting just enough to get a good look at him. "I mean, if I had been interrogated like that, I wouldn't have cracked."

His brows lift. "Oh really?"

"Not even a little."

You should have seen it coming, the way his fingers tighten at your waist, the way something sharp and knowing flickers behind those honey-brown eyes, but you don't.

Not until you're flat on your back with the couch swallowing you whole and Spencer braced over you, grinning in pure satisfaction.

"Oh?" His voice is smooth, as he leans in just a little closer, close enough that the warmth of his breath kisses your skin. “So if I decided to test that theory — ask you a few things — you wouldn’t crack?”

Your stomach flips.

"...That's not what I meant."

Spencer's laughter is soft but wicked, full of certainty, full of amusement at your expense. His fingers trace absentminded shapes against your hip, a contrast to the sharp intent in his voice.

"Mm. Too bad." His voice dips lower. "Because I already know you would."

Your part your lips to argue, but no sound comes out.

"See?" he murmurs, brushing his lips over your jaw. "Cracking already."

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[lecl1ercswif7ie]

I Care Buck

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader ! The New Avengers x Reader

Summary: After your first mission you tell Bucky to blowout his hair with your Dyson - The rest of The Avengers are shocked he doesn't oppose.

Author's Note: This is my first fic, i'm sorry if it's a bit weird, english is not my first languange and i'm kind of nervous of writing here 🙈 Enjoy the fic!!

-

Mission complete.

If you could call “barely surviving a shootout, a crumbling building, and Walker setting off the wrong grenade” a mission success. Still, somehow, no one was dead. That was a win for the New Avengers.

Back at HQ, the vibe was what you’d expect from a barely-functional team of chaos gremlins.

Ava and John were already at it again, arguing over tactical choices like they hadn’t just spent the last six hours screaming into comms.

“I’m telling you,” John said, arms waving, “you rushed the flank too early!”

Ava raised her eyebrows and bit out, “I rushed the flank because you set off the charge early, you toddler in a bulletproof vest!”

“Idiots,” Yelena muttered, flopping on the worn-out couch and covering her eyes with her arm, “please shut up. Some of us are trying to disassociate in peace.”

Bob sat nearby, legs crossed, calmly reading a thick novel. He was somehow the calmest man in the building — maybe in the world. “Let them bicker,” he murmured, not looking up. “It’s almost rhythmic now. Like jazz.”

You snorted from your corner. Bucky was standing silently nearby, arms crossed, leaning against the far wall like he didn’t want to admit he was tired. His dark hair was tousled, sticking out from where it had been flattened by his mask and ruffled by wind and debris. He looked… adorable.

But he also looked like he’d walked through a wind tunnel.

You bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling and walked over, Dyson Supersonic in hand.

“Okay, soldier,” you said, pointing to the stool near the table. “Sit.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Your hair,” you said. “It looks like a bird tried to nest in it. I’m fixing it.”

“You’re gonna use… that thing?” he said warily, eyeing the Dyson like it might explode.

You grinned. “Relax. You’ve fought alien warlords. You can survive a blow dryer.”

A snort escaped him. And then — miraculously — he sat. You plugged the Dyson in, brushed your fingers through his damp hair, and got to work.

—

About five minutes in, Bob looked up from his book and said, “He’s letting her do his hair. It’s happening.”

Yelena didn’t even open her eyes. “What’s happening?”

“The slow-burn,” Bob replied, turning the page. “They’re finally getting there.”

Alexei popped his head in from the kitchen. “What are we betting? I say they kiss before next mission.”

“No way,” Ava said, arms crossed. “Barnes is emotionally repressed and Y/N’s too polite.”

John laughed. “$10 says it happens by the end of the week.”

“$20,” Bob added, “if they don’t even notice they’re basically dating already.”

You ignored them all. Mostly. Your fingers were threading through Bucky’s hair, drying and smoothing it as you guided the Dyson gently. He looked… relaxed. Kind of. Except when his metal hand kept twitching every time you got a little too close to his ear.

“You okay?” you asked softly.

He grunted, “Yeah. Just… not used to people touching me like this.”

“Like how?”

“Like they care.”

You looked at him, your hand still in his hair. “I care, Buck.”

His eyes met yours then — and you swore your heart skipped.

From the couch, Yelena groaned loudly. “Oh my god, would you two just kiss already?!”

You flushed. Bucky cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “I feel like a stray puppy right now.”

“Yeah, well,” you smirked, “you’re a cute one.”

—

Later that night, the HQ was quieter. Ava and John had gone off somewhere to probably yell at each other in private. Yelena was asleep on the couch, Bob was still reading, and Alexei was snoring in the recliner.

You were in the bathroom with Bucky, showing him how to use the Dyson properly. He watched you with that same intense stare he always had — like he was memorizing everything.

“Okay, see the cool shot button?” you explained. “Locks the style in place.”

He pressed it. A little too hard. The blast of cold air surprised him and he jumped slightly.

You giggled. “Scary, huh?”

“Not scared,” he grumbled. “Just… surprised.”

“Mmhm.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then: “Thanks for doing this.”

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Anytime.”

His hand caught yours as you went to pull away — metal fingers warm from the dryer, his grip gentle but steady.

“You know,” he said, eyes locked on yours, “I don’t let just anyone near my hair.”

Your breath hitched. “Good thing I’m not just anyone, then.”

There was a beat.

You both leaned in slightly—

And from the hallway: “If you’re not kissing, then at least make popcorn!” Alexei yelled. “Some of us are invested in the subplot!”

You and Bucky broke apart, laughing quietly.

“Stray puppy, huh?” you teased.

He rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile on his lips.

“Only if you’re the one taking me home.”

-

kinda nervous to post this haha, i tried my best okay? but i think i made justice to the whole new team with unstable people trying to live togethere

[weird-is-life]

okay okay okay but spencer dating someone who loves books just as much as him if not more and they gone over it and derek is like damn there’s two of them 😭😭😭

Hii lovely, ty for this cute request. Hope it's at least a little good🙈warning: fluff, like one swear word, pet names, (0.5k)

Spencer literally begged you to bring him lunch today. Not because he is feeling particularly hungry, but because he hasn't seen you in a couple of days, and has missed you like crazy.

And you, lovely as always, couldn't say no to him. Not that you would. You have missed him like crazy, too!

It's almost 1 in the afternoon that you finally come. You have the warm package of food in one hand and in the other something that looks much more heavier.

Spencer spots you immediately as you open the glass door to the bullpen. He goes towards you, and before you can say anything more, Spencer has you in his arms.

He gives you a quick but loving embrace and a soft kiss. It's swift, because he doesn't want to violate the pda workplace rules or anything.

"Hi, handsome," you greet him again, smiling big, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too, sweetheart, so ridiculously much," Spencer tells you as he ushers you towards his desk.

He notices the heavier looking bag in your hand, takes both bags instantly from your hands, and raises his brows in question at you. "Did you pack a lunch for a whole army?"

You chuckle, because by the weight of the bag you definitely could have fed a whole armada. Spencer chuckles in return, putting both of the bags on his desks.

You give a still slightly shy nod to all the team members that are currently in the bullpen. Meaning Derek, Emily and JJ.

"I just brought you a lil something," you say sheepishly, pointing at the heavy bag. Spencer eyes the bag with suspicious face while you sit in Spencer's chair, innocent smile on your face.

He opens it, and instantly gasps. "No way. No fucking way, " he beams at you. Eyes sparkling like some kid's in a sweets shop.

Spencer reaches into the bag, and pulls out not one, not two, not even three, but four chunky books. The thickest of them is a book that Spencer's been trying to get for a while now. It sold out everywhere, and by some miracle, you found it in your favourite antique book shop.

"How did you get this? Oh my god," Spencer questions happily, leaning down towards you to peck your lips again.

"It's a secret," you beam back at him. Just happy to see him happy. Spencer drops the book, and goes to hug the life out of you, deciding that the kiss wasn't enough. Squeezing you oh so tightly.

"Spencer, you're gonna break my bones," you chuckle as he finally let's you breath again.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Thank you, I love this so much. I can't wait to get home to read this," Spencer tells you, his eyes softening.

"We can have a reading night then. 'Cause I bought myself one book too........" you start to tell Spencer as you make yourself comfortable at his desk, while he unpacks his lunch.

From a few desks away, Derek murmurs to the girls, JJ and Emily, in amusement, "there's two of them now."

"Maybe we are just seeing double?" Emily jokes. Though she finds you two adorable.

"Remind me to never accept their invitation to a fun night at their place." Derek deadpans, and the girls laugh.

But you two don't seem to notice their amused attention on you. Too interested in the books sitting on Spencer's desk, and too interested in making the book reading plans for your night.

[bytemee]

SECOND NATURE 3 — kim minjeong.

synopsis. teasing you has become her favorite hobby—especially now that she knows what makes you tick.

pairing. winter x fem!added!member!reader

warning(s). fluffy, winter is a tease, reader is kinda a loser lol, and let me know if there's more!

words. 1.5k

authors note. i know i said rendezvous update would be next but...chat...please...c'mon

navigation. main masterlist. request. part one. part two.

you're sitting behind the camera during a live, scrolling through chat with half an eye and munching on a snack. it’s an idle thing—minjeong’s doing the talking, answering questions from my while you're practically here to babysit so she doesn't spoil anything about your group's upcoming comeback.

"any artist you’d want to collab with in the future? oh, hm..." minjeong pauses, tapping her chin in thought.

you pause your chewing and lean forward, curious to hear her response. "iu."

did she just—? iu? you weren't expecting her to say you, obviously not; you’re not even a soloist. but still. you stare at her like she just betrayed the nation. she glances your way and grins at you, all teeth, and it makes you pout a little. how can she just casually say it like that, like she's not trying to crush your dreams with the simple act of mentioning someone else's name?

“wow,” you mutter, loud enough for the mic to pick up. “i thought you’d say me.”

minjeong’s grin doesn’t falter, though. if anything, it widens.

"i mean," she says. "of course i'd love to collab with our beloved y/n, but there are many other artists who are more worthy than her."

"yah!" you yell.

game day.

the finals. your team made it. you’ve got the match queued up on the big screen, snacks on the table, and the couch set like a shrine to your club. you’re wearing the jersey, the scarf, and the pride of someone who’s watched this team since they were six.

you don’t expect minjeong to watch with you. she never usually does.

but then she walks out of her room—wearing your team’s shirt.

your heart physically skips a beat.

you stare. you forget the snacks. you forget your name.

she plops next to you like it’s nothing. “who’s playing again?”

“you planned this,” you say, dazed.

“planned what?” she asks, blinking up at you, pure innocence.

“you’re evil,” you whisper.

the game starts. you don’t see any of it. not with her shoulder brushing yours, not with her humming the theme song mockingly. when your team scores, you yell. when they win, you jump to your feet—and then immediately point at her.

“you’re my lucky charm now.”

“oh?” she grins. “does this mean i get free snacks for life?”

“no,” you say seriously. “it means you wear that shirt forever. that’s a rule now.”

you’re talking to a staff member a few days later, telling some stupid comic book theory you have about multiverse timelines in dc. it's a nice little chat, casual. he's listening intently. it's fun, even though your voice is getting scratchy and you're so into the discussion you're using your hands too much.

you’ve never had a proper conversation about it with anyone here, and it feels refreshing to just get it all out, even if it’s way more complicated than it probably needs to be.

“…so if you think about it, right? there’s always a version of every hero, but what gets tricky is the overlapping timelines. like, if the flash changes something in one universe, it doesn’t just affect that timeline. it causes a ripple effect, but it doesn’t always stick. that’s why they bring in different versions of themselves to fix it, but then they risk creating even more divergent timelines. it’s like this whole cycle. some timelines… they just collapse in on themselves. boom. gone. do you see what i mean? it’s like—wow."

your hands are flying through the air now, cutting through the air as you use gestures to explain the theory. the staff member nods, laughing along, clearly amused and equally intrigued by your nerd rambling.

"imagine a timeline where wonder woman was raised by a human family instead of the amazons, or, or, or… if batman actually had powers? what do you think would happen to the universe? would that cause a catastrophic event? or maybe there are a thousand other batmen without powers that are basically the real version of batman. that'd be hilarious, but then we'd have to find out what caused the divergence. what if it was something stupid like his parents not dying? would he still become batman? or maybe he'd become a villain! i think that'd be cool, to see the dark, evil batman."

suddenly, there's an arm wrapping around your waist. you stop mid-sentence, freezing like a deer caught in headlights, as minjeong's fragrance fills your senses.

you glance up, blinking rapidly, trying to get your bearings, but she’s just there, her cheek resting against your shoulder as she whispers, "i see you're getting really passionate about this whole multiverse thing."

you feel the heat rise in your cheeks instantly. the hand that had been gesturing wildly moments ago now freezes mid-air, awkwardly hovering as you scramble to pull yourself together. "i—uh, yeah, i just��i'm, you know, just explaining it. nothing big."

minjeong chuckles, and you feel the vibrations of it against your shoulder. "you know,” she starts, “i didn’t realize you could talk for hours about comic books.”

you’re about to try and make a joke, but then you catch sight of the staff member beside you. he's clearly holding back a smile, looking between the two of you like he’s enjoying the show. you quickly lower your hand, your cheeks growing even warmer, and you mumble, “i, uh, i wasn’t talking that much…”

“you were,” she says, her grin growing wider, and that’s when it happens—she gives you another little squeeze, leaning in just a touch closer, her face tilting up toward your ear as she adds, “you know, you’ve been going on for, like, twenty minutes now. you must be really into it. kinda cute.”

you freeze again, your mouth open but no words coming out. her voice is soft, sweet, almost a murmur, and when you turn to look at her, her gaze is even softer. it doesn't help that she's standing so close, her breath ghosting over your skin. it's warm. inviting. her arm tightens around your waist as her lips curve into a smile, and you can't stop staring at her mouth.

and subsequently she whispers just loud enough for only you to hear, "i'm still your number one, though, right?”

you nod dumbly.

(of course, it's always her.)

after the awards show, you're exhausted and starving but still wrapped in your black suit, tie loosened but not gone. you and minjeong are bickering in the living room about dinner. the other members are scrolling delivery apps. you’re losing your mind.

“tteokbokki is a solid option,” you argue.

“you always say that,” minjeong replies, arms crossed.

“because it’s true! it is a solid option. and there are good ones nearby. and they deliver. it's easy and delicious, and we can get the extra cheese option. we need comfort food. please. come on. tteokbokki is the way to go here."

you stare her down, and she stares back. there's a battle happening in her eyes. you know she wants the same thing, but you're willing to fight tooth and nail for this.

she steps forward. grabs your tie.

pulls you down. face-to-face.

“we’re getting jjajangmyeon,” she says softly.

you forget every word you’ve ever known.

“cool?” she adds, lips inches from yours.

you nod. or black out. maybe both.

she lets go. turns to the others like nothing happened.

you stand there, gay-panicking like your body was struck by lightning.

you don’t post on bubble often. mostly updates, the occasional backstage pic, and once—because your members forced you—a blurry photo of your dog in a hat. you like the anonymity. when you do post, it's usually about a song you've listened to on repeat or an outfit you can't get enough of. but today, you decide to give your fans an update about your day.

you’re outside the practice room, waiting for aeri, as she wanted to grab dinner together. it's a rare moment of quiet, and you’re still in your sweats from the late practice that went way too long. your hair’s a mess, tucked under your favorite sock hat that you got custom-made for you last christmas.

you pull out your phone, unlock it, and stare at the screen for a minute. your fingers hover over the keyboard as you debate how to phrase the update.

you type quickly, your fingers moving with ease:

“sock hat. \^o^/ here's a photo of me i took before practice. how’s everyone else doing today?”

you pause, rereading it a few times, then hit send. just as you set your phone down and lean back, the notifications start popping up.

KARINA 💙: what are you doing

you blink. pause. your brain scrambles to remember—did you post that on bubble or—

oh no.

y/n: lol wait a minute y/n: how do i delete

NING: this is the bubble groupchat grandma 😭

y/n: wait when did we have a group chat?

y/n: can MY see this???

NING: yes

you nearly drop your phone trying to cover your face, heart racing like you just got caught doing something illegal.

winter: how do i save

winter: sock hat supremacy… you’re too cute !

y/n: …

KARINA 💙: …winters fav fashion icon everyone 🧦🎩

winter: you guys don’t understand how serious she is about that hat. i’ve seen it in three different colors.

NING: i saw it walk out of her suitcase on its own once

y/n: jealousy is a disease and i hope you all get well soon ❤️

winter: only jealous the sock hat gets to be that close to you 🙂‍↕️

y/n: yeah that’s enough

y/n: i’m logging off now

y/n: bye MY o(T���To)

GISELLE: sock hat aespa’s sixth member confirmed? GISELLE: wait are we still getting dinner? GISELLE: hello?

[pretty-little-mind33]

Pietro Maximoff x stark!fem!reader

Summary: You've always hated Pietro for his player tendencies—turns out he's never hated you at all.

Genre: Fluff, hurt and comfort (enemies to lovers)

Warnings: implied fuck-boy!Pietro, reader is Tony Stark's daughter (no physical description), reader hates Pietro in the beginning, mentions of blood and gun wounds, swearing, because Sokovia isn't real- I used Czech as Pietro and Wanda's language (i don't speak Czech so i used translating sites…if it's wrong, pls tell me)

~ thank you to the anon who requested this! this is my very first time writing for Pietro, please tell me what you think! ~

PIETRO MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST

Your father has always been overprotective of you. 

He usually doesn't involve you with his affairs when you're with him and not at Mom's, choosing to have your room as far from any Avengers as he possibly could. At sixteen, you didn't like this—you felt like you deserved to live normally in your own home—so when he asked you to become friends with his newest members, Twins from Sokovia who also happened to be sixteen, and make them feel welcomed, you were more than happy to do so.

You liked Wanda Maximoff from the first moment you met her. She seemed quiet and shy in the beginning, but she also has this fiery side to her that you admire. She never took shit from anyone, including her brother. 

Pietro Maximoff was very different from his sister. You remember standing in your room, your dad by your side, with an unamused Wanda in front of you as a blue blur sparked across the room, occasionally skidding to a stop and knocking over some books or picking up some trinkets and making unnecessarily judgmental and overly excited comments.  

"Pietro," Wanda hissed, "Přestaň (Stop it)."

His sister's warning had only made his grin widen, his silver hair falling over his strikingly blue eyes as he returned next to her, his arms crossed. "Promiňte (Sorry)." You didn't know what he'd said, but it didn't sound like he meant it. 

"Wanda," he pointed to his sister as he introduced her, and then his grin turned into a smile. "Pietro," he said, pointing to himself, and then he outstretched his hand with no awkwardness or hesitation. You looked down and then up at him again, turning to your dad with an unsure expression but when he nodded, you shook Pietro's hand.

"Y/n," you whispered with a smile, and as you shook his hand, what could have been the start of a wonderful friendship, should have started that day. 

Should have.

In the beginning, it was childish teasing—which involved stealing things from your room and hiding them around the tower because it made Pietro laugh, running past you in the halls so quickly you'd almost fall over, or jokingly ruining any chances with any boys at school because he'd stick his nose in business that never involved him. 

Most of the team and your dad found your banter funny—encouraging the same boys will be boys' bullshit that meant that as the years passed, your dislike for Pietro only worsened. 

It especially didn't help when, by seventeen, he'd found out he was pleasant enough to look at and that girls seemed to adore his boyish charm. So, any chance he had, he'd either heavily flirt with girls at school, or find excuses during missions to pick up any pretty girl he came across. 

Of course, this behavior only increased in his twenties and made him all the more annoying—especially since you began working the coms and the computer for when the team was out on missions. Ever since Ultron, your dad now trusted you more than a robot. 

You're curled up in your chair, your headphones on as you watch the multiple screens in front of you. Some have news outlets playing out the scene while others have the biometrics of Iron Man's suit and the others' suits to make sure all is well. You also have every member in your ear as your fingers glide over the keyboard.

"Dad?" you switch the coms and touch the microphone. 

"Yes, Y/n?" Tony Stark's voice echoes in your headphones and you smile. 

"I can try and hack into the network of that bastard's suit if you want?" 

"Actually, Y/n, can you locate Quicksilver for me? He was supposed to evacuate all the civilians but I can't reach him anymore. Could you try? He always answers you,"

Great, Pietro duty—again.

"Can't I do something more useful?"

Tony chuckles, making you glance at one of your computer screens where you can see him hovering in the air, protecting the civilians on the ground from some shit-bag escaped prisoners who had taken over some secret government-type weaponry and causing all kinds of havoc.

Steve and Natasha seem to be handling the situation with some tact, while Wanda looks like she's having fun crunching the weapons in the men's hands with her mind. All in all, the team seems like they're handling things just fine without Pietro around. 

"Quicksilver is useful to me, darling. I know he's not your favorite person right now, Y/n, but he's a valuable member of my team and I need you to find him for me."

You huff. "He was never my favorite person," you whisper roll your chair over to another keyboard, and disconnect Tony from your headphones. You bite your cheek and hit enter. "Pietro? Hello?"

No answer. 

You change the signal. 

"Wanda?"

"Hello!" Wanda answers and you hear some commotion in the background. 

"Where's your brother?" you ask, "he isn't answering me."

"I don't know," Wanda says and after a moment she adds, "I can feel him though."

"Thanks," you say, although she'd been completely unhelpful. All you'd learned was that Pietro was definitely alive—which wasn't really a concern of yours since you hadn't assumed something happened to him. You just assumed he was missing.

"Y/n?" 

You hear him in your headphones and you quickly change the channel again, pressing your lips closer to your microphone. "Pietro," you say.

"Yeah?" Pietro sounds like he's running, "What's up, Princezna (Princess)?"

"Don't call me that," you say, knowing damn well he'll call you that anyway. He always has. "Tony wants you. Where have you been?"

Pietro laughs. "I got a little distracted, Moje srdce (My heart)." You hear what sounds like another pet name—he calls you that from time to time you just refuse to ask him what it means.

You want to ask him what he means by distracted, but you assume it has something to do with him getting some girl's number so you don't want to know anymore. "I'm on my way back now so no need to worry your pretty head about me."

"I wasn't worried about you," you say instantly, "I was ordered to find you. Very different."

"Sure, Princezna, sure," Pietro says, his voice husky as he stops and takes a breath. "When are you going to fess up and admit you like me, hm? This cat-and-mouse game has been fun and all, but c'mon, what will it take for you to understand? Tady mě zabíjíš (You are killing me here)."

"Understand what?" 

"Understand that I–" Just as he speaks, you hear more familiar voices and shouting in the background and you look to one of the screens from a news outlet where you can see that Pietro is back with the team, only he's not running anymore. No, he looks like he's swaying. You stand to look closer at the screen. 

"Pietro?" you call into the mic, trying to understand what happened until you see him fall to the ground, clutching his side as his blue suit stains red. He must have stopped running for a moment and one of the fucking assholes dressed in machinery must have shot him. You panic and run to an opposite computer and change the channel one last time. 

"Wanda?" you whisper, your voice hoarse and shaky as you look back at the screen and see that Clint has found Pietro, and Wanda is running up to them too. "W-Wanda?" you try once more, watching her on-screen as she tends to her brother and ignores you.

You feel completely powerless.

* * *

When everyone comes home, you feel stupid as you greet them. Most of the Avengers send you sympathetic smiles as Tony walks up to you. Clint, Wanda, and Pietro aren't with them. You look up at your dad, feeling embarrassed that you're worried for someone you claim to hate.

Tony's expression softens as he hugs you stoically, he's not much for this type of affection but he can see you need this as you bury your nose into his shoulder. 

"He's being checked now but nothing serious," your dad sounds calm, "he's fine, darling."

You pull away, forcing a look of nonchalance as you. "I- I know that I- I didn't care either way," you lie shamelessly.  

Tony shakes his head, sounding exhausted when he says, "You're so stubborn, just like your mom." He ruffles your hair and kisses your forehead. "You can see him in a bit, I'm sure. I'll tell Wanda to come find you when he can have visitors."

You nod and spend the next few hours pacing your room, nibbling at the skin around your nails until you taste blood and finally, someone walks into your room—only it isn't Wanda. It's Pietro himself. He's wearing a slightly wrinkled tank top and a pair of slacks hung loosely around his hips. It's almost sinful. He grins cockily and runs a hand in his hair, his shirt riding up to expose his stomach. You stare at him, wide-eyed and your hand drops from your mouth. 

"What are you doing out of bed?!" you say, sounding more worried than you'd intended.

"What are you? My máma?" Pietro laughs and leans against the edge of your vanity. "I heal quick," he shrugs and looks around your room. He hadn't been in here in a while. He smirks. "Still sleep with Teddy, hm?" he hums. 

You feel warmth in your cheeks and you send your poor beaten-up-with-love Teddy-Bear a glare as if it was his fault you still slept with him in your arms at twenty-four. "Ha ha, funny," you mumble and move to stand in front of Pietro so he can't make fun of any more of your belongings. "No– I don't. Can you leave now?"

Pietro crosses his arms and tilts his head, his blue eyes piercing into yours. "Stark said you wanted to see me." 

Of course, he did. 

You narrow your eyes. "Well, I have seen you and I see you're fine so now I've changed my mind," you say with a shrug and point to your door, waiting for him to make the decision and leave. 

"You don't even wanna ask why I was distracted out there?" Pietro says and a smirk curls his lips.

"No–"

You feel the wind in your hair and in a blink, he's standing much closer to you with a slight pant—as if he'd just run—and he's holding a small bent bouquet of roses in his hands. He holds them out for you and you stare at them in disbelief. 

"What are those?"

"Roses."

You glare at him. "I know that but why?"

"I saw them and thought of you," he says so nonchalantly you almost don't believe him.

"What? When?"    

"When I was helping the civilians," Pietro shrugs and his eyes are intense. He pauses after a moment and raises his hand, his knuckles skimming your cheek. You freeze, warmth spreading all over your cheeks as you panic internally. "Saw them in the park and I wanted to get them for you."

Your eyes widen. "Isn't that illegal?"

Pietro smirks. "Not if it's done in the name of love, Princezna."

"I don't think that's how that works—" Realization dawns on you and you feel like you're spinning. "Wait, wait, what did you just say?" 

Pietro laughs and his hand moves to tuck some hair behind your ear, smiling. Maybe he's excited but you can feel his skin vibrate on yours. Your heart is pounding so heavily and your mind is screaming at you that this is all a trick and this is what he does with girls. He throws around the l-word and expects women to fall at his feet. He's a player.

"What I was trying to tell you before I was rudely shot, is why haven't you caught on and understood that I'm madly in love with you?"

What?!

You blink at him and then take a step away from him, shaking your head as you force a laugh. "Pietro, this isn't funny. It isn't funny to mess with me like this. You know how I feel about you playing with my feelings—"

Pietro frowns. "Playing with you?" 

You roll your eyes. "Please, it's just not funny, okay?"

"You think this is a joke, mé srdce (my heart)? Ach, můj drahý (Oh, my dear)," Pietro says in a whisper and moves closer to you again, his hand reaching for yours as he hands you the roses.

"I'm not messing with you. I tease you sometimes, but my feelings are real. I haven't messed around with any women in years—minus that mistletoe kiss—" he rubs his nape, mentioning the time you'd caught him and an office girl kissing at last Christmas party. He didn't mean for that to happen, and even less for you to see him. 

You're really trying to understand him now but nothing is making sense. "You have feelings for me?" You whisper, your eyes wide. You feel like you've entered some alternative reality. "You can't just say things like that now, Pietro. It's not fair."

His expression turns more serious than you've ever seen him. "I'm not saying this lightly, Y/n. I know I've been a jerk to you, but I was a stupid kid who didn't know how to express his feelings and then it was too late because you hated me. But, I have always cared for you, miláček (darling). I really have."

You move back, your eyes round, processing his words. All those years of childish teasing, all those petty arguments you'd had, and all the jealousy you've felt suddenly hit you like a train and you're left broken and bruised. He had feelings for you? You've been pushing him away because you were scared of how you felt about him.

"Why now? Why did you choose to tell me all this now?" you ask, shaking the roses in your hands as your voice trembles.

Pietro exhales. "Because when Wanda mentioned me how worried you were about me, I realized how much I need you in my life. Need you beside me. I didn't want to hide my feelings anymore— and I picked those flowers wanting to confess anyway. I want to be with you, Y/n. No more games, just us."

You feel a mix of relief and fear. Deep down, you've wanted to hear this for so long, but it's as terrifying as you'd imagined. You look up at him, walking in closer and you can hear your heart in your throat when you run a hand in his silver hair, holding him and pulling him down to meet his lips.

You've convinced yourself this would be confirmation. Confirmation that this was a bad fucking idea. Instead, his kiss is intoxicating and it makes your mind go all fuzzy. Of course, he'd be good at this, he'd been quite the whore—your thought is interrupted by Pietro pulling you in closer and deepening the kiss, his hand finding your hip. 

You gasp, leaning up into him as the world as you'd known it crashes around you. 

"Sakra, Princezna (Damn, Princess)," Pietro murmurs into your lips, holding you close. "This is so much better than I imagined."

"You imagined this?" you say, sounding more teasing than you'd anticipated as you're left breathless from his kisses. 

Pietro hums. "All the damn time," he admits and kisses you again.

After more kisses, he finally pulls away. "So, is that a yes? You want be with me too?" he asks hopefully and you look into his eyes, taking in his excitement. You don't dare even think of breaking his heart as anyway, your swells at the mere thought of being his. 

You nod but then smirk and pull him back in for a kiss, your hand fisting his shirt, "Kiss me some more and then I'll tell you."

And he does just that.

[xxmochadoodlesxx]

JASON IS A LOVEY DOVEY TEENAGE-CRINGEY KINDA LOVER DO NOT TEST MEEEEEE

So am I 100% meant to be in bed or studying for an exam but procrastinating on tumblr to avoid my problems? Yes. Absolutely. But I must SPEAK OUT THIS INJUSTICE TOWARDS JASON PETER TODD! I'm SICK, SICCCCKKKKKK of HC's where Jason is some nonchalant, cool boy who pretends his partner isn't even real until he needs sexual favours or "When they are in danger and he regrets everything!!!" STOP IT! YOU SLANDER MY SON!!! Here's an EXACT and (in my professional hopeless romance genre objectively correct) Headcanoned timeline of how Jason fares as a partner: - Starting point/he just caught the feels: Okay THIS is the only time he can be nonchalant. No matter how hard he falls, that boy is traumatised and has never seen a healthy love between two people. Of course he's kinda standoffish and cold, like coaxing a mistreated cat out of the hiding spot. HOWEVER, he isn't a POS- just kinda awkward. You/Oc need to do the reaching out first. - Something changes/OMG this is real love: YES, there are TWO phases to the crush. One when he can acknowledge it as just attraction and one where he skydives into his feelings and realises this is SOMETHING MUCH REALER THAN FLIRTY BANTER! This is where I pose, "He crushes like a teen girl" HC. Giggles like a maniac at every text, kinda dazes off a little too much when he catches a song, smell or food that reminds him of said crush- if he journals which I think he does, there's entries about you/Oc. A LOT OF ENTRIES. - First dates: He's a Jane Austen/classical romance reader, he's pulling a Romeo and mentally already jumping hoops on how you were destined to be together and stars smiled upon such pure love, blah blah blah. However he is still semi-closed off. Fear is a natural killjoy/heartbreaker, however AGAIN he is NAWT a POS to his date, it's just a little awkward and he looks like he's held at gunpoint whenever you ask about HIS wants and needs. (Let the man grow some self confidence gradually) -Dating/It's offical: In the sense that his partner loves him, truly and honestly, Robin/Red Hood/Outlaw/Jason Todd ect? THAT MAN IS NEVER LEAVINGGGGG!!!! Frankly having something THAT GOOD in his pretty shitty life would somewhat drive him crazy protective and clingy. Yes, he's basically moved in by now and sleeps beside you in bed, like you guys are some married couple. Hell, you wanna push it? Probably has the ring picked out and only by the power of common sense is making him wait for a good amount of time to pass before proposing. He is a darling and almost never lost the romantic in him. Flowers from the first date up until he has to pluck them from the side of the road before crashing through a window into your home, because "What's a concussion and possible internal bleeding to getting my love flowers to match their beauty?". Also fuck off if you believe he doesn't spend 99.9% of his time at 'home' crushing his partner as they hold his mass of a 6 foot build as he rambles about anything and everything. From what books he's reading to "Did you know I saw a pigeon lay eggs on patrol?" Again, married couple behaviour. Has to relearn the concept of personal space because he loves so deeply and whole it works akin to an antidepressant, except it's not because his love is so much more than that. He needs to be weened off you/oc before going on far away missions otherwise his poor team (and enemies) has to deal with his withdrawal from his partner. HE IS CLINGY, PROTECTIVE AND A LITTLE CHILDISH- I LOVE HIM RAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!

[ddejavvu]

Hello i had an idea for a Spencer fic! So the BAU team have a party and Spencer's sitting by himself cause he doesn't drink and he feels awkward and reader goes to sit with him to comfort him about how he doesn't have to drink to have fun. They spend the rest of the night together and Spencer asks if they could hang out more at some point :,)

Spencer's not alone, but he's not exactly with the group, either. He's sitting at the end of the table, and you remember Penelope had been with him at the start, but now she's several shots deep in Emily's lap, trying to peer down Morgan's shirt.

Spencer's tapping a long, lithe finger against the table like a metronome, his plush pink lip tucked beneath his front teeth as he stares into his water glass. There's shrieking and laughter from the opposite end of the table but you vacate your seat, beelining for the BAU's youngest member.

"You're not drinking, Reid?" You maintain a slight air of professionality, forgoing JJ's nickname, 'Spence', because you're still less than a month into joining the team. Spencer's kind with you- everyone is, but you're trying not to overstep.

"Oh, I'm not much of a drinker," He smiles, his chin angled up slightly, "I just prefer water."

"I don't blame you. Drinking makes me sleepy." You admit, "I'd pass out in half an hour if I tried Rossi's concoction."

"His cocktails are lethal," Reid's nose wrinkles, "He says it's because he's an old man and he needs the strong stuff. I just think he doesn't like having to pay attention to any of us when we talk."

"Both are probably true," You take the seat across from Spencer at the vacant side of the table, "You don't bring anything else to do? I know you usually carry a book with you."

"It's in my bag." Spencer grimaces, "Everyone always makes fun of me when I read instead of drinking, so I don't anymore."

"Go get it." You urge, "I have one in my bag too. They could- y'know, make fun of us."

Spencer's eyes narrow in thought, his brow furrowed slightly as he glances past you at the rest of the team. They're not paying attention to either of you anymore, too caught up in their own fun, and he reaches for the bag draped over the back of his chair.

It's thick, heavy, and looks like a volume that should be gathering dust in a magic library. But he opens it to a page near the beginning, and is already turning to the next before you can wrench your book out of your own bag.

You settle into the groove of reading, a comfortable silence that Spencer looks much happier with than sitting alone. He turns pages faster than you can fathom, and it's incredible to know he's reading every word the same as you are.

"You know," He starts, his eyes still on the page, "There's a nice cafe a few blocks down from work. I go there and read on Saturday mornings if we're not on a case. It's quiet, it's- good for reading." He chances a glance up at you, and finds you hooked on his every word.

"Yeah?"

"You should come with me sometime." He notes, his voice purposefully casual, "Uh, they have good croissants."

"I like croissants." You smile, "I'm free this Saturday, Reid."

"You can call me Spencer," He offers, "Uh- Morgan has his phone out."

Morgan is, in fact, taking pictures of you and Spencer with your books out, and you're sure they'll appear in your team group chat within the minute. But you don't care, and you knock your foot against Spencer's beneath the table.

"I'll be there at nine, Spencer."

[sprintingowl]

Deadball

Deadball Second Edition is a platinum bestseller on DrivethruRPG. This means it's in the top 2% of all products on the site. Its back cover has an endorsement from Sports Illustrated Kids.

It's also not an rpg I'd heard about until I discovered all of these facts one after another.

I was raised in a profoundly anti-sports household. My father would say stuff like "sports is for people who can't think" and "there's no point in exercising, everything in your body goes away eventually." So I didn't learn really any of the rules of the more popular American sports until I was in my mid twenties, and I've been to two ballgames in my life. I appreciate the enthusiasm that people have for sports, but it's in the same way that I appreciate anyone talking about their specific fandom.

One of the things that struck me reading Deadball was its sense of reverence for the sport. Its language isn't flowery. It's plain and technical and smart. But its love for baseball radiates off of the pages. Not like a blind adoration. But like when a dog sits with you on the porch.

For folks familiar with indie rpgs, there's a tone throughout the book that feels OSR. Deadball doesn't claim to be a precise simulation or a baseball wargame or anything like that---instead it lays out a bunch of rules and then encourages you to treat them like a recipe, adjusting to your taste. And it does this *while* being a detailed simulation that skirts the line of wargaming, which is an extremely OSR thing to do.

For folks not familiar with baseball, Deadball starts off assuming you know nothing and it explains the core rules of the sport before trying to pin dice and mechanics onto anything. It also explains baseball notation (which I was not able to decipher) and it uses this notation to track a play-by-play report of each game. Following this is an example of play and---in a move I think more rpgs should steal from---it has you play out a few rounds of this example of play. Again, this is all before it's really had a section explaining its rules.

In terms of characters and stats, Deadball is a detailed game. You can play modern or early 1900s baseball, and players can be of any gender on the same team, so there's a sort of alt history flavor to the whole experience, but there's also an intricate dice roll for every at bat and a full list of complex baseball feats that any character can have alongside their normal baseball stats. Plus there's a full table for oddities (things not normally covered by the rules of baseball, such as a raccoon straying onto the field and attacking a pitcher,) and a whole fatigue system for pitchers that contributes a strong sense of momentum to the game.

Deadball is also as much about franchises as it is about individual games, and you can also scout players, trade players, track injuries, track aging, appoint managers of different temperaments, rest pitchers in between games, etc.

For fans of specific athletes, Deadball includes rules for creating players, for playing in different eras, for adapting historical greats into one massively achronological superteam, and for playing through two different campaigns---one in a 2020s that wasn't and one in the 1910s.

There's also thankfully a simplified single roll you can use to abstract an entire game, allowing you to speed through seasons and potentially take a franchise far into the future. Finances and concession sales and things like that aren't tracked, but Deadball has already had a few expansions and a second edition, so this might be its next frontier.

Overall, my takeaway from Deadball is that it's a heck of a game. It's a remarkably detailed single or multiplayer simulation that I think might work really well for play-by-post (you could get a few friends to form a league and have a whole discord about it,) and it could certainly be used to generate some Blaseball if you start tweaking the rules as you play and never stop.

It's also an interesting read from a purely rpg design perspective. Deadball recognizes that its rules have the potential to be a little overbearing and so it puts in lots of little checks against that. It also keeps its more complex systems from sprawling out of control by trying to pack as much information as possible into a single dice roll.

For someone like me who has zero background in baseball, I don't think I'd properly play Deadball unless I had a bunch of friends who were into it and I could ride along with that enthusiasm. However as a designer I like the book a lot, and I'm putting it on my shelf of rpgs that have been formative for me, alongside Into The Odd, Monsterhearts, Mausritter, and Transit.

[idrkwhatthisisimsorry]

Gold Rush

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve and reader are just two idiots in love who doesn't think the other one likes them back

Warnings: fluff, idiots in love, slight angst, slight reader insecurity

Word Count: 3,406

A/N: okay so i haven’t written in a REALLY long time, but i’ve been on a steve kick lately and just wanted to write something so 😍

You were tired of it. So sick and tired of it. You’ve been alive for over two full decades and you still have never managed to have a boyfriend. Not that you were particularly desperate for one, but when everyone around you managed to have been in a relationship at one point in their life, it made you feel a little left out. It’s gotten to the point where everyone just kind of assumes you aren’t interested in a relationship, which isn’t true. You’re just bad at finding one. You’ve had small one-night things, but it seems like every time you get close to a man beyond a hook-up, you somehow manage to make the conversation utterly and completely platonic to the point where you’re just always the best friend. And this is where Steve Rogers comes in. 

You’ve known Steve for about 3 years, ever since you joined the team. Steve, to say the least, is a pretty intimidating guy when you first meet him. He’s super tall and sweet and cute, all the things you would want in a guy. But because he’s so perfect, approaching him seemed way too scary. For the first couple months of knowing him, the two of you would only exchange simple pleasantries as you crossed paths. A nod of the head, a wave, or a quick “hi” was all you were able to get out. But you wanted more than that. 

Eventually one day, you got the courage to say something to him. 

You were sitting in the kitchen, reading a book and sipping your coffee when Steve walked in. It looked like he had just gotten out of the gym, he was wearing some athletic shorts and a Dodgers tee that was entirely too small on him, but it gave you something to talk about. 

“Dodgers fan?” You asked him, hoping it would start some kind of conversation. He turned around, looking almost shocked that you said something to him that wasn’t just hi. He chuckled a bit before saying, “Yes, ma’am. I do miss them being in the city, but you’ll never catch me trading them in for the Yankees.”. He smiled at you, obviously expecting a response. You panicked. You hadn’t thought this far. He was supposed to ask you a question or something. In your idiotic panic, all you could manage to get out of your mouth was, “I’ve honestly never watched a single baseball game in my life.” Which was true, but why did you have to say that now? But apparently Steve wasn’t as offended by this as you thought he would be, and he tipped his head back and just laughed. Steve Rogers was laughing at you. With you? You had no clue. You just dropped your head into your palms, expecting him to walk out at your comment. “No offense, doll, but you don’t exactly strike me as the baseball fan type, so I’m not entirely shocked.” He said, just smiling at you. You were absolutely not going to open your mouth again, because obviously it wasn’t attached to your brain and you didn’t want to look even more idiotic in front of  literal Captain America. It got to the point where both of you were just kind of staring at each other in silence before Steve finally broke the tension. “So… reading is more of your style, then?” He said, gesturing to the book you had sitting in front of you. “Uh, yeah, pretty much. It’s like all I do in my free time.” You said, with a slight smile on your face. “I love reading, too. Kind of hard to adapt from books from 70 years ago to the books now, but I’d say it’s definitely one of my favorite pastimes. What are you reading?” You were kind of holding a conversation with Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers. Your kind of crush. You don’t know if you can even call it a crush when the longest conversation you’d even had with him was currently happening, and so far was only about 5 sentences long, but it was happening. “Oh, um, it’s called Daisy Jones and the Six. I've actually read it a few times already, but it’s my favorite so I felt like reading it again.” You said as you smiled up at him sheepishly. “Oh, I’ve actually heard of that one. Good enough for multiple re-reads, huh?” “Oh, one-hundred percent. It takes place in the seventies. Such a shame you missed out on that decade, it would’ve been interesting to see you in bell bottoms.” And there it was again, that laugh. He tipped his head back once again and just laughed. “Is that a good laugh or an ‘oh my god this girl needs to shut up laugh’” Steve stopped laughing, and looked at you confused. “No, of course not. You’re funny.” A confused smile spread across his face. “Sorry, it’s just kind of weird figuring everybody out here and making friends. You’re all way too cool for me, I feel like I’m trying to fit in with the popular kids.” You gave a shy laugh, and he returned it and then crossed the kitchen in front of you. “Well you’ve got one here. Being a tiny kid in Brooklyn, I get how weird it is to go from being on the outside, to being right here on the inside. Wanna make a deal?” He said, holding out his hand. You looked down at his outstretched hand, and then looked back up at him before asking, “What kind of deal?” He just smiled before saying, “A friendship deal. Whenever you need someone to talk to or to hang out with, or just someone to read in the same room with, you’ve got me.” You smiled even brighter and took his hand and shook it. “Done. And this deal includes you not judging my weak handshake.” He just threw his head back again and laughed. And that’s when you fell in love with Steve Rogers. 

Being in love with Steve Rogers was a problem. Being in love with Steve Rogers for three years and only being a best friend was an even bigger problem. Steve was the perfect guy, which was the issue because everyone else had the same sentiments, but you were too scared of rejection to do anything about it. You knew everybody wanted him, but last year was when it really hit you. 

As you finished getting ready, you picked up your tote bag, ready to go to your favorite bookstore. You thought it might be fun for Steve to come with, but as you headed for your door to go ask him, there was a knock. You opened your door to see Steve standing outside of it. “Hey Steve, what’s up?” You asked him, a smile on your face. “I was just coming to see if you wanted to do something?” He said, looking down at your outfit, seeing you were already dressed to go. “But if you already have plans, that’s totally fine.” He said with a small smile on his face. “No, I was actually just about to come ask you if you wanted to go to the bookstore with me?” You gave him a small smile back, and raised your eyebrows in question. A big smile spread across his face as he nodded and gestured his arm in front of you, suggesting for you to lead the way. You smiled up at him and stepped past him through the door. 

Walking with Steve was always nice because it meant you had something to do while you talked. You and Steve had grown pretty close since your conversation you had in the kitchen a couple years ago, but you still got nervous and fidgety sometimes when you were around him because, well, you were still in love with him. So walking and talking was just easier than sitting around and talking. “So why do you need more books?”He said as the two of you walked down the sidewalk. “I always need more books, you know this, Steve.” He gave a small chuckle and turned to look at you, stopping on the sidewalk. He didn’t say anything, and just looked at you. You gave him a look, confused why he was putting your walk on a halt. You raised your eyebrows and asked him, “What?”, laughing a little bit. “You’re just so b-” Before Steve could finish his sentence he was interrupted. 

One of the most beautiful girls you had ever seen just so happened to walk up to Steve, not even glancing in your direction. She was tall, blonde, beautiful, and more confident than you could ever think to be. Before you even had time to react to her, she was beaming up at Steve and talking to him. “Hi, sorry, I know this is kind of weird, but I just saw you from across the street, and wanted to come introduce myself. I’m Jen.” She said, batting her eyes up at him. “Oh, um, hi, I’m Steve, this is y/n.” He introduced the two of you, and smiled over at you as he said your name. Usually you loved when he said your name. The way his deep voice came out as he said ‘y/n’ always gave you butterflies in your stomach, but hearing him say your name because he was introducing you to a beautiful girl, who was so clearly interested in him, just made you feel like the gum on the bottom of your shoe. When Steve introduced you, you put on a fake smile that wasn’t even seen by her, as she clearly didn’t care about your presence, and kept her gaze focused on Steve. “Well, if you’re free sometime, call me.”She put on a sweet smile and grabbed his hand to put a small slip of paper, most likely with her number on it, in his hand. Before he could even respond, she turned away, but not before throwing a wink over her shoulder at him. And that’s when you realized if Steve Rogers could have girls like her, why would he want you?

“Nat. I need you to set me up on a date or something. I need serious romantic help, I’m tired of it.” After battling with your feelings for Steve, you figured it was finally time to move on. You and Steve were as close as you could possibly be at this point, and you hadn’t made any progress past friendship, and it was breaking your heart. You kept holding out hope, but if Captain America wasn’t going to make a move on you, it was never going to happen, and he just clearly wasn’t interested. You couldn’t keep pining over a man who didn’t want you. You were tired of setting unrealistic expectations for yourself, and decided to finally take Nat up on her offer of setting you up with someone. 

“Finally! I’ve been trying to set you up for years, what finally cracked you?” She said excitedly. Nat had been trying to set you up pretty much since the day you stepped into the tower. Once you and Steve started becoming friends, he helped you get more acquainted with everyone else on the team, and Natasha was one of the first. Which was another reason you fell in love with him. He cared so much about your wellbeing, and he wanted to make sure you felt comfortable and welcome where you lived, and you would be forever grateful for that. But that’s what friends do, and in your lovestruck haze, you decided to see it as him caring about you the same way you cared about him. 

“Nothing in particular, I think I just need a change, I guess.” You said, trying your best to give her a genuine smile. She just beamed back at you, “Well, I’m super happy you’re finally giving in. I will find the perfect guy for you, I promise.” She said, hopping off the stool she was sitting on and walked away with her eyes glued to her phone, typing away. 

–

Later that night you were sitting on the couch reading, while Steve sat on the other side of the couch with you. You heard him close his book and sit it down on the table beside him. You looked up from your book to him as he opened his mouth to say something. “Hey, uh, what are you doing tomorrow night?” He asked you, a shy smile on his face. Most of your plans consisted of spending time with Steve, and as you were about to tell him that, Natasha bounded into the room.

“I can tell you exactly what she’s doing tomorrow night.” Nat said, with a mischievous smile on her face. You had a feeling you knew exactly what she was going to say, and even though you asked her to set you up on a date, the last thing you wanted to happen was for her to tell you about a date she set you up on in front of Steve. “She’s going on a date. With Jack from the 7th floor. He’s so cute, y/n, you’ll love him. He loves books, and you guys have the same taste in music, I can’t wait.” She said, almost giggly. “You can’t wait for my date?” You said, laughing at her last statement. “Well, I’ve been trying to set you up for years, god forbid I get excited you finally said yes.” She said, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re going on a date?” You looked at Steve as he asked the question and gave him a nervous smile. “Um, yeah, I am. I finally took Nat up on her offer.” You said, throwing in a small laugh, trying to dissolve the awkwardness. “Thanks, Nat, I appreciate it,” You smiled up at her as you said it, and started to stand, “I think I’m going to head to bed now, though. Goodnight, you guys.” You smiled as you walked away, not able to stand being in the same room as you and Steve both found out you had a date for tomorrow. 

–

You couldn’t sleep. Of course you couldn’t sleep. All you could think about was Steve and what he might be thinking about your date. Did he care? Was he jealous? Was he just happy his best friend was finally going on a date? You didn’t want to be thinking about Steve, you wanted to be thinking about your date. Something you should be super excited for, but all you could think about was a certain captain. 

In the middle of another battle with your blankets while tossing and turning, you heard a soft knock on your door. You’d been in bed for hours trying to sleep, so you thought you just imagined it, but you heard the same soft knock again. Curious who could possibly be knocking on your door this late, you finally got up to answer your door. You opened the door to see a very distressed looking Steve in your doorway. “Hey, what’s up?” You asked, concerned. “Can I come in?” You nodded, and opened the door wider for him to come in, and closed it behind him. “Is everything okay? I thought you’d be asleep by now.” He didn’t respond and just started pacing back and forth in front of you. “Steve?” Hearing his name made Steve stop his pacing, and turn to look at you. “Why are you letting Nat set you up on a blind date?” He asked, with an almost frantic tone to his voice. “What? Do you have an issue with blind dates or something?” You were insanely confused. Steve was the kind of person who was always happy for you no matter what, so him practically barging into your room to ask you why you were going on a date was really out of character for him. 

“No, of course I don’t have a problem with blind dates. I have a problem with you going on a date. Y/n, I-” He cut himself off, looking down at the ground. You had no clue what to say, so you just stared at him, hoping he would finish his sentence. He looked back up from the ground, meeting your eyes. He walked towards you and didn’t stop until he was only a few inches away from you. “I can’t let you go on that date without telling you how I feel first.” As the words left his mouth, your eyebrows raised farther up your forehead than you thought possible. “W-what? What do you mean?” You asked, starting to think you were going crazy. This was starting to sound an awful lot like a confession, but Steve didn’t feel that way about you. There was no way. He saw you as his best friend, and that was it. He dropped his head down to his chest again, running his fingers through his hair as he let out a sigh. He slowly lifted his eyes again to meet yours. “Steve-” you began, but he cut you off. “I’m in love with you.” He said, sounding out of breath. Your eyes flew open. If you weren’t able to sleep before, you didn’t think you would ever be able to go to sleep. You couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t actually happening was it? There was no way Steve Rogers, Captain America, just told you that he was in love with you. It just wasn’t possible. You had to be dreaming, maybe you really did manage to fall asleep after all. If this was a dream, this was just cruel. “Y/n. Say something, please. If you don’t feel the same way, I understand, and we can pretend like this never happened. But I need you to say something. Please.” You stared at him for a second, almost paralyzed. “I- really?” was all you could manage to get out. It felt like the first time the two of you ever talked again. You were that same girl you were three years ago when you were stumbling over your words, trying to find the right thing to say to him. 

“I’ve been in love with you from the second you walked in the tower. Of course I’m in love with you, y/n, how could I not be? I’ve fallen in love with every single part of you. Your laugh and how you make me laugh. I love how sometimes you almost seem embarrassed when you laugh, like you think you shouldn’t be laughing. I love when you smile at me, and I love when you say my name. I love seeing you fight and how powerful your mind is. I love your obsession with books and your need to buy ten more every time you finish one. I love that I’m the person you come to when you need to talk, or rant, or cry. I love being that person for you like you are for me. You’re so amazing, it almost hurts me, because I know that there is someone better out there for you. Hell, it’s probably that guy that Nat is setting you up with. But I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if I let you go on that date without telling you how I feel. So yes, y/n, I really do love you.” Halfway into Steve’s talking tears began to form in your eyes. Not only did the man you’ve been in love with for years tell you he felt the same, but he did even more than that. He told you everything you’ve been longing to hear for years, and then some. 

“Oh, Steve.” You said, with a shaky voice. And for the first time, you made a move. Steve put his heart out on the line for you, and all you wanted to do was kiss him, so you did. You closed the distance between the two of you and put both of your hands on either side of his face, and crashed your lips to his. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing you back. 

You broke the kiss, pressing your forehead to his, and sighed. “I love you more than anything, Steve.” You looked up at him, a small smile on your lips. This time, it was Steve who initiated the kiss.

[fairsweetlonging]

hear me out, svsss extras au where, some part after canon, when the original luo binghe shows up, shen qingqiu does go with him (whether forcefully or willingly) to the other world. of course, bingge being bingge he immediately starts planning a wedding and trying to take shen qingqiu to bed, but his spouse-to-be isn't having it. he has this thing called self-respect, you know!

so, shen qingqiu, trying to buy himself time, tells bingge he'll need to be properly courted first. after all, how can you marry a guy you just met? (frozen ref). bingge, though reluctantly, agrees.

and generally in my head it's a bit of a feel-good fic, in a way? at least before the angst begins. shen qingqiu is sweet and kind to bingge but strict and aloof enough to not be a different person entirely, and when shen qingqiu (teasingly) tells him to perform the qing jing sword drills, bingge blooms under the praise he's given when he performs them flawlessly, and there is something very calming about walking into shen qingqiu's suite and finding him curled up on the cushioned window sill with a blanket, a cup of tea and a book he's helplessly engrossed in.

in this au shen jiu is still alive, locked in the dungeons of the demon realm castle. with the new shen qingqiu here he's been severely neglected, mainly because bingge hates to taint his new image of 'the kind shizun' with his hateful despicable old shizun, clearly this is how it was always meant to be, and shen jiu can rot for all he cares. at first shen qingqiu (yuan) thinks shen jiu must be long dead and gone, but then he overhears two guard demons bickering about "food for the prisoner", and he gets curious.

it's a scene à la 'belle and the beast' where shen qingqiu goes to the forbidden wing dungeon, finding shen qingqiu chained up, bones broken, cultivation crippled. one of his arms is gone, and shen qingqiu doesn't want to look too long at the rotten remains in the corner of the cell. shen jiu is barely conscious at this point, but shen qingqiu spends a little time with him anyway.

when he has dinner with bingge later that night, he asks after shen jiu, saying he wants to see him. binghe gets a little paranoid, worried about them teaming up against him or that this shen qingqiu will think he's a monster too. but shen qingqiu knows to spin it in such a way that it basically amounts to "wouldn't it be great to have two nice shizuns?" (shen yuan knows how important closure can be). and. yeah. bingge does like the idea of two nice shizuns.

so then shen qingqiu gets to take care of shen jiu (who does have to remain in the dungeons for now), and if bingge hadn't seen it with his own eyes he wouldn't have believed shen jiu took to shen qingqiu so quickly, being the pitiful pile of broken bones, starvation and torture trauma that he is, but, clearly, the way he allows shen qingqiu to touch him, stroke his hair, how his face falls, just slightly, when shen qingqiu has to leave, he's getting attached. something in bingge's xin-mo influenced mind delights in the idea of something else he can take away from his old shizun (shen yuan won't let him).

there's a bunch of endings to this, whether shen qingqiu and bingge find love and get married, or maybe binghe comes to save his shizun and they take shen jiu back to their world, or shen qingqiu acts like a catalist between original binghe and original shen qingqiu for them to be together, or idk maybe everyone goes to the other (svsss) world and they become some insane quartet, take your pick!

[bones4thecats]

Hi, happy new years! I was wondering if you could do a platonic TFA story. I am making a book based on my request and I would like to see how you would write it.

The reader is a baby Predacon that was in an egg, and the egg hatches, and the first thing it sees is Optimus and thinks he is their mama, and just follows him everywhere and overprotective of him.

Optimus is stressing a bit because now nit only does he have to lead his group, take care of Sari, but now he has to be a parent to a baby of an extinct race of Cybertronian, and he doesn't think he's doing good and they deserves someone better to raise them. Then one day, the baby is missing, and he's just stressing out and going berserk. It wasn't after the baby Predacon was found that he relaxes and confused when he acted like that when Ratchet tells him that it was because of parental protocols that Cybertronians get when they get attached to something that they see as their own, meaning that he is perfect for them.

Bonus scene about the baby being overprotective:

Baby sees a big blue robot with a big chin being mean to mama? Say goodbye to your ankles! *Chomps*

Get a tingling feeling that something or someone is disturbing mama's happiness? Suddenly is by mama's side and sees its the big, blue chinned bot. *CHOMPS!!* The ankle bitter is back at it again. Nobody messes with mama and gets away with it.

Sentinel demabds Optimus to punish the baby bot (Optimus secretly gives them treats instead)

┗ Mama; TFA! Optimus × Sp.! Reader ┛

Characters: Optimus Prime (Transformers Animated) A/N: This took longer than I anticipated. But, I did enjoy writing it. You had an amazing request, and I hope you like how I interpreted it, @random-fandom1984! ⇘ Summary: After finding a pod with a Predacon sparkling inside, the Autobots take them in. But, this sparkling attaches themselves to a specific member of the team: its leader.

┍━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┑

┕━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

⚔️ When a pod crashed one day just outside of Detroit, the Autobots set off to find out what it was. Optimus was the one who opened it, declaring it his duty as leader to protect his team.

⚔️ The others watched, weapons ready as he opened the pod. But, instead of there being anything truly dangerous, a tiny, sparkling-size Cybertronian jumped out of a broken mechanical-shell, gripped onto Optimus' arm, and refused to let go.

⚔️ Ratchet stared, wide-eyes as he tried to go through his medical training on what this Cybertronian's sub-species was. They certainly weren't an Autobot, and not a Decepticon, since they were too small, and too... animalistic.

"By the Primes..." he said, realization washing over him. "That's a young sparkling of a Predacon!"

"A Predacon? Didn't they go extinct millions on years ago?" Prowl asked.

"Did they somehow come back from the dead like a zombie or something?" Bumblebee added.

"Impossible. The only thing that could do that would've put them in a far more decomposed and demented state."

"They look like a baby possum holding onto its mama!" Sari said, smiling as she saw the baby Predacon hold onto Optimus and begin to purr lowly.

⚔️ Well, they have an issue now.

"If it wasn't brought back from the dead, how are they alive?" Optimus questioned Ratchet.

⚔️ Ratchet looked at the pod and walked up to it, dragging his servo along the outside of it, trying to rub something off to read the description of what was supposed to be contained, or maybe find out what it was built for.

⚔️ As he looked around, Bulkhead looked at the sparkling and smiled, waving one of his large servos at the youngling. Unfortunately for him, they took it as a threat and tried lunging at him.

"Holy Primus!" Bumblebee yelled as he and Bulkhead strayed from the baby. Thank goodness Optimus caught it in time.

"Talk about primal urges."

"I think I found what the Predacon came from." Ratchet said, making everyone look at him in confusion.

⚔️ He pointed to a projection of a large Predacon with a crown on his helm, one that appeared to transform into the Earth myth of a dragon, and listened as he spoke.

"To whomev'r finds this pod enwheeling the sparkling, hark carefully. This is the offspring of I, Predaking, Leadeth'r of the Predacons of Cyb'rtron, and mine own sparkmate, Luminate."

⚔️ A feminine-looking Predacon then came into view, a crown on her helm as well as he began to tearfully speak into the camera.

"In Predacon's CNA th're is one code f'r younglings: whomev'r those gents attacheth to first is th're rais'r, their parent. If 't be true those gents doth this to someone, prithee, raiseth those folk well and keepeth those folk safe. Not just f'r mine own sparkmate and I, but f'r the fate of all Predacons past, presenteth, and hopefully future."

⚔️ Yells erupted from the video and everyone began to become wide-eyed from what they were seeing: a war. Predacons falling from behind as Predaking yelled for his sparkmate to run and get the pod ready for evacuation. But, before this happened, he looked into the camera and smiled gently, before saying;

"Valorous luck in the future, mine own dearest offspring. Moth'r and fath'r loveth thee."

⚔️ The video then cuts as the pod's recorder then put up the words: RECORDING FINISHED. WOULD YOU LIKE TO WATCH AGAIN: YES. NO. in Cybertronian.

⚔️ Optimus looked down at the Predacon sparkling, who was still gripped onto his arm, and he smiled, lightly petting its head as it purred louder and rubbed against his servo.

"Well, looks like we have a new addition to the team."

═══════════════ ⋆★⋆

⚔️ Optimus opened his eyes, groaning as he felt his frame tweak and creak with his movements. That fight with the Decepticons yesterday really screwed him up. Maybe he'll just go for a little drive with the Predacon-

⚔️ Where is the Predacon? OH PRIMUS, WHERE IS THE PREDACON?!

"Ratchet!" Optimus yelled he sprung out of his room and towards the living room where the team was relaxing and healing.

"What's going on, Prime?" He replied.

"I can't find the Predacon!"

"WHAT?!"

-- A few hours later...

⚔️ Four hours. It took four hours to locate the Predacon. They were looking at the animals moving around the forest with sparkling optics, only to see Optimus and sprint to him, latching onto his leg like how they did with his arm just a few days prior when they were found.

"Y'know, you kinda acted like a Mother-Bird to them." Sari said as they drove back to the base.

"A 'Mother-Bird'? What do you mean?"

"Well, when you found out the Predacon was gone, you freaked out. Y'know? Now, you're calmer then Prowl when he's meditating."

"Then what does a mothering bird have to do with my moods?"

⚔️ Sari groaned and looked out the window, just telling Optimus to speak to Ratchet about it when they got back. He just agreed and kept driving, finally coming to a stop once inside the factory-made-base.

"Ratchet? May I speak to you?"

"Go ahead."

"Sari compared me to a mothering bird on the way back. She said when I went from being panicked to 'calmer than Prowl when he's meditating', it reminded her of it."

"That's because you were acting like a parent who lost their child. In other words: you love that thing just as much as it loves you. Don't worry about your skills at raising them, it's obvious you're just the Bot to take the reigns." He assured, patting the younger Cyberronian's shoulder before walking to his room to recharge.

⚔️ Optimus looked at his servos and silenced the rushing thoughts in his head. Ever since day once, the Predacon had been right by his side. And as he wondered if he was doing good enough for them, they just doubled their love for him by the thousands. Maybe... he was doing enough for them?

═══════════════ ⋆★⋆

⚔️ Another treat was tossed in your direction, a smile plastered on your face as you jumped around happily, grabbing all of the treats with a vigor matching a human child.

⚔️ Earlier that day, the Elite Guard had come down to see the Predacon sparkling and examine it for anything dangerous. Though, Sentinel, in true Sentinel-Fashion, began insulting Optimus the moment they touched down and gained contact.

⚔️ You growled from the Autobots' leader's shoulder as you listened to Sentinel speak. You may not speak like they do yet, but you understood them well enough.

⚔️ When Sentinel, Jazz, and Ultra Magnus made it to the base and began to speak about your conditions upon discovery and everything from then, you sat with Sari, watching her play around with one of her machines. Your spiky, colorful tail wagging as you watched happily.

"Well, it needs to come back with us to Cybertron for further testing, right, Ultra Magnus?" Sentinel spoke.

"They're not an 'it', Sentinel. They're a living, sentient being. Not some data-pad."

⚔️ Sentinel rolled his Optimus as he scoffed.

"Yeah, right. Look at it, Optimus. You think that thing can produce a single cognitive thought? You've gotta be kidding."

"They do produce cognitive thoughts, they're extremely intelligent."

"Oh please. It's being raised by you of all Cybertronians."

⚔️ At those insults, you stood, spread your wings, and lunged at Sentinel. In the time, you managed to scratch one of his optics and bite his ankle hard enough to draw energon.

⚔️ He screamed and jumped up, swinging you around as you held onto him. His big chin annoyed you at first, but his insults just solidified his place on your 'Bitch List'.

"Get it off me! Get it off me!" He screamed.

⚔️ Jazz watched with wide optics, trying to calm Sentinel down. Meanwhile, Ultra Magnus sighed and motioned for Optimus to handle the sparkling.

"Y/N. Hey, come here, sweetspark. I'm right here." He called, holding his arms out in the signal for an embrace, which you could never turn down.

⚔️ You ran into his arms and hugged him, wings tucking in as your upper legs held onto his shoulders and your lower were held by his other servo.

"It seems the Predacon has become attatched to you, Optimus Prime." Ultra Magnus spoke.

"Yes, they have, Sir."

"Then, I see no need to take them from you. It's obvious you have control of the situation."

"Thank you, Sir." A large smile formed on Optimus' face as he felt you nuzzle into his chest.

"And, you named them, I heard? Y/N?"

⚔️ Your head perked up as your tail slightly wagged. Ultra Magnus looked a little bit like Optimus, and you really liked Optimus.

"Lovely name choice for them." He said, a slight smile on his face as he stroked your helm once before ordering for the Elite Guard duo to get the ship ready to depart back to Cybertron.

"But, Ultra Magnus, Sir! The Predacon-"

"Will be handled by the ones who discovered them. Now, get ready to leave."

"Yes, Sir..."

⚔️ Nobody messes with Mama Optimus and gets away happily. Nobody.

[luveline]

could you please write something where maybe bombshell!reader hears one of the team members teasing about how she’s torturing spencer and she kinda backs off with the flirting and maybe it’s his turn to hold her hand and call her cute names because even though he always says he doesn’t mind, maybe he does and he just doesn’t want to tell her

tysm for requesting, 1k

Spencer's hair is brown silk in the sun. You bite your tongue to hold in a compliment rearing to come out, saccharine and completely true. Looking sweet, Spence. 

You love to compliment him and especially while Hotch is out of earshot. He and Derek play pairs against two agents from a different unit, their tennis racquets a shiny FBI navy. You start to speak and bite it back —a memory flashes, a shouting stop sign. 

You'd been teasing Spencer as he left the room, something about his indecisive hair. He's cut it shorter but left his curls without product, and you love it. 

Poor guy, Emily'd murmured, lips set against the rim of her coffee cup. 

What's the matter with him? you asked, perplexed. 

Nothing, just that he spins into a total meltdown every time you guys are within ten feet of each other. He must be exhausted.

She was joking and you know that, but something deep down worries she's right. It's not fair for you to keep winding him up… Especially when Spencer might be going along with you because he isn't sure how to say no. 

What if you're forcing yourself on him? 

You're sitting together on a small blanket in the grass with Anderson and a few of the other less competitive BAU agents. You bring your bottled iced tea to your forehead to cool down, condensation wetting your hot skin. The top of your head feels as though it has the full concentration of the sun beating against it. 

Spencer looks up at your movement. He's been reading a book for pleasure, or so he says, so he isn't going a mile a minute but he's still way faster than the average Joe. "Do you want to go find some shade?" he asks. 

"You look comfortable," you say, putting your iced tea aside.

Which is to say, I don't want you to come with me, it would disrupt you. Spencer nods and turns to the brown leather of his familiar satchel, popping the buckle open to dig around inside. 

"Do you think this would be okay?" he asks, bringing out his baseball cap. 

The fabric is starchy and the brim stiff as you accept it and wedge it over your head. You don't immediately cool, but your heart spins strange loops. "Thank you," you say. Thank you, handsome, gorgeous, baby, all beg to be said. 

Spencer stays looking at you for longer than normal. 

"Do I have something on my face?" you ask, swatting self consciously at your cheeks. 

"Nothing. You look really pretty," he says. 

"Thank you." Another loop. You point at his book, fingertip hitting a creamy page with a small thud. "Is this any good?" 

"I think you'd really like it, it feels like that last book I borrowed from you, and you loved that. They're very similar. I can lend it to you when I'm done." 

"Don't rush it for my sake."

Spencer gives you a private smile. "I won't. Just because you could watch a movie at two times speed doesn't mean you should." 

Your returning smile isn't half as nice. No shared lightness, no bright eyes. You're feeling awkward and unhappy —you really like Spencer. Like, you think you could be happy together for a long long time sort of like. He's charming and sweet and no one is ever as kind to him as he deserves, which is why you're trying to be kind now by putting distance between you.

You'll be brash forever. You can't change that, and Spencer doesn't need the stress of dealing with you, not on top of everything else. 

His smile fades as yours does. Quiet, without fuss, he scoots back on the picnic blanket, putting you knee to knee. The subtle muscle of his arm presses to yours and his hand wraps gently around your wrist as he dips his head down, his cheek touching briefly to your shoulder. 

"I know it's nice, but if the heat is getting to you we should go inside," he says, his fingers sliding across your palm to slot between your own. He squeezes your hand. "Heat stroke isn't obvious at first. Do you feel woozy?"

You stare at your twined fingers. He surprises you again, being this soft with you, and being uncharacteristically forward. Or maybe not uncharacteristic at all; Spencer won't let something like timidity stop him from comforting someone that needs it. 

"Spence," you murmur, closing your eyes, face angled down. 

"What?" 

"I'm sorry if I… If I've been messing you around. But I don't think this is a good idea." 

"What's not a good idea?" 

You can't make yourself say it. Instead, you rub the back of his hand, more for your own comfort than his, your tongue like a useless lump in your mouth. 

"You're sorry? Are you sure you're okay?" Spencer asks, no heed to the people sitting with you as he lets go of your hand to put his arm behind your shoulder like a shield. 

"I don't want to torture you," you say. 

Your friends love that word. You torture Spencer with your flirting and your easy affection. 

Spencer makes a face, eyes squinting and nose wrinkled. "They're just kidding when they say that. Emily, Morgan, they like making fun of me, it's like, sibling bonding or something. They don't say it because there's actually something to feel sorry about." He lowers his voice, bashful but sincere at once, "If you're torturing me, I guess I'm a masochist." 

You laugh without thinking, a breathless, girlish sound you'd regret if you had the wherewithal. "You're a masochist?" you ask. 

He takes the brim of your borrowed hat and pushes it up to unobstruct the view of your eyes. 

"If that's what it takes," he says. A hint of wryness creeps into his otherwise smooth tone. 

Despite his brave talk and his steady eye contact, his face has started to blush. A rosy hue kisses the tops of his cheeks and his nose, a dusting of pink splodges stark against his paleness. The curve of his lips seems extra tantalising now. He's very, very pretty. 

And he doesn't mind stepping in to take the reins when you're unsure of things. 

"We really should sit in the shade for a bit," he says. "Let's get drinks from the gazebo. Yeah?" 

You're halfway through a nod when he kisses your cheek too quickly for you to respond. You follow him to the gazebo without any more reluctance, weaselling your hand back into his, and attempt to pull another kiss from him.

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

quiet as a church mouse - jamie tartt x kent!reader

summary; game night at roy's house, and jamie finds himself invited for the first time.

jamie tartt x kent!reader masterlist

warnings; swearing, making out, illusions to smut, roy is fighting for his life at the end, pheebs' mum is called molly

"STOP BABE!" Jamie shouted, pointing with two open hands as you add another hotel to Boardwalk and Park Place. "You're gunna fuckin' bankrupt me! I'm right there!"

"Swear jar, Uncle Jamie," Pheebs said, adding a tally to her book, which was open beside her on the floor. Monopoly always really upped the debts, and Jamie had been dubbed family, and therefore added to the swear jar.

"Don't call him fuckin' Uncle Jamie," Roy grunted. Phoebe doesn't say anything, just stares at Roy as she adds a tally under his name.

"Baby, it's just the game. Don't hate me, hate late-stage capitalism." You shrugged, putting the pieces on the board. "Besides, you picked monopoly."

"You'd see me dead," Jamie said, "this is fun for you innit? Making sure I lose first?"

You look at him for a second. "You know what, maybe I am. Maybe I think losing would be good for you, team's doing too well lately."

Roy just watched with a smirk on his face, something about monopoly always brought out the worst in you. And serves Jamie right to be on the receiving end of it, Roy hadn't intended on inviting him to Kent family game night. But Phoebe insisted that Jamie was family now, since he'd been a part of the family vacation, Pheebs had taken that as Jamie is a part of the Kent clan now, which Roy wanted to reject so badly. But who could deny Phoebe?

But now, Roy wasn't as against Jamie being invited anymore, because you two just kept bickering at each other. Maybe this would scare one of you away... Roy could only dream.

Jamie's turn is next, and he rolls a double and lands on your space, he's clenching his jaw as he gathers up the rest of his money and hands it to you, he comes up less than a hundred short, and you insist he has to mortgage one of his properties.

"Can't show you favouritism, love. What would that teach Phoebe?" you said, counting the bills in your hand like it wasn't blood money.

"Uhm, compassion? Treating your partner with kindness? You're ju' teachin' her how to be a greedy little landlord." Jamie sighed, and picked up the dice, the double twos forcing him to roll again.

"D'you think you'll roll a two?" Phoebe asked, looking at the board. "You'll land on boardwalk."

Jamie stopped shaking the dice in his hand, looking at Phoebe. "Why would'ya even say tha'?"

"I hope he does," Roy said, thoroughly entertained. Jamie looked like he was going to burst a vein in his neck. Molly thought it was hilarious too, but Roy really thought maybe this would cause a nice little rift in the relationship. Maybe Jamie would stop showing up everywhere.

Jamie rolled snake eyes.

Two spaces and his little iron rests on boardwalk.

And you two are in a yelling match over whether or not he's out.

"You have to accept my properties as payment, babe!" Jamie shouted, "or I'll be out!"

"I don't want your mortgaged properties! Christ sakes Jamie, you don't even have a matching set!" you shout back, "I don't want them!"

Molly laughs into her glass of wine. Roy tries to make a bet with Phoebe. And you just enjoy the fact that you're one step closer to victory.

"So you don't even feel bad about it," Jamie muttered, "wow... woooow, okay babe. I see how it is, I'm out." Jamie crossed his arms and scooted closer to Phoebe, looking at everything she has collected. "I'll help you, Pheebs. You're the nicest one 'ere."

"You can be on my team, Uncle Jamie."

"Stop callin' 'im that," Roy said, "he's not your uncle."

"Not yet," Jamie smirked, but wiped it off his face when he saw the lethal death glare Roy was sending his way. "You guys take stuff so seriously around 'ere, jeez."

"Do you think you'll marry my Auntie?" Pheebs asked, and Roy choked on his drink, while you just smiled down at the properties you have, pretending not to hear what they're talking about.

"Of course mate," Jamie said, "isn't it clear I'm tryna weasel my way into this family?" Jamie and Phoebe giggle together, all of Jamie's competitive faded away now that he was out of the running anyway. "How am I doing so far?"

"You fight right in," Phoebe said, giving him a little thumbs up.

"Excellent."

Looks like monopoly wasn't enough to scare him off. Roy should be happy for you, but instead he's just annoyed. Jamie didn't even stay a little bit annoyed, and if he did, he wasn't showing it.

Later, after you win monopoly and Phoebe is tucked into bed, you and Jamie are leaning close to one another by the counter, enjoying another glass of wine, while your brother and sister sit across from you. Roy has his arms crossed, annoyed that Jamie is here, while your sister just enjoy her wine. She likes when you bring Jamie around, mostly because she sees how happy he makes you, and that is all that matters to her.

"Kind of a mean board game player love," Jamie said, smiling through it, "felt like you were targeting me."

"I was," you shrug, like it was obvious, "Kent family game night isn't for the weak."

"Oh my god," he laughed, "you're evil, woman, supposed to be nice to me." Jamie rested his head on your shoulder, making Roy grunt in disapproval, but you wrap and arm around Jamie and the two of you ignore that grumpy Kent.

"I am nice to you," you said, "I invited you here, didn't I? Let you pick the game, didn't I?"

Jamie mumbled something about you being a dickhead, but you barely hear it, you just laugh at his tone.

"I'm going to bed," Roy said, pushing his empty glass forward. "And you should too," Roy pointed at Jamie. "Trainin' tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah," Jamie muttered, "I know."

You laugh, taking Jamie's hand and leading him down the hall to your room after saying your goodnights. Jamie, being the horny, lovesick little pest he is, has his hands on you the second you're behind a closed door.

At first, you don't stop it, you let his hand drift up your sides, welcome his tongue into your mouth as he guides you back to the bed, pushing you down onto it and crawling above you with his bottom lip sucked into his mouth. You start to protest, but Jamie kisses you again, taking your hands into his and moving them above your head and holding them there, keeping you at his mercy.

"Jamie wait," you moan, body betraying you with an arched back as Jamie sucked your earlobe between his teeth, biting on it just hard enough to make you gasp softly.

"C'mon love," Jamie said, nibbling on the tender spot just below your ear, your hands held captive above your head by his. "I'll be so quiet, Roy'll never know."

"You're never quiet," you sighed, trying not give in, but stretching your neck to give him more space to work in languid, loving kisses against the curve of your neck.

"I can be," he mumbled, hands tightening around your wrists, "but I gotta baby, you gotta let me, need you so bad. Jus' fuckin' hot and bothered and it's your fault. I love when you get all loud and mean," Jamie moaned against your neck, pushing his cock into you, his hips slotted perfectly between yours. "Takin' no prisoners, baby, you're just so sexy."

"This is Roy's house," you reasoned, "he might actually kill you."

"As long as it's after I get in ya, I'll die happy."

"Jamie!"

"Shhh, lovey," Jamie pulled away, winking at you. "Now who's not being quiet."

He rolls his hips against you again, hard cock under his pants hit against you just right, shooting pleasure up your core, and you moaned, resolve fading quickly.

"Alright, fine," you give in, "but we have to be quiet."

"Quiet as a church mouse, love, I promise."

Roy's going to burn his own house down.

And he's gunna start the fire in the guest room that Jamie fucking Tartt is currently defiling Roy's little sister in. He can hear Jamie's greedy little whines through the wall and he feels sick. The two of you spent all night bickering over board games and now Jamie is grunting in Roy's spare room like the sick pervert he is.

Roy thinks he can fall asleep anyway, but all it takes is hearing you moan Jamie's name once and Roy gets up and flees from his own bed. Foul, disgusting little creatures you two were, in his house!? After family monopoly???? Freaks. You guys were fuckin' freaks. And Jamie was a dead man come morning.

"Uncle Roy?" Pheebs asked, half asleep and rubbing her eyes as Roy barges into her room.

"Scooch over," he grunts, "I'm sleeping in here with you."

"Why?"

"Cuz there's..." Monsters. Disgusting, horny little creatures. Difiling. Roy looked at Phoebe and frowned. "I had a nightmare. And I need a knight to make me feel better."

"Awh, c'mon then," she said, opening the blanket for Roy to join. "I'll keep ya safe Uncle Roy."

"Yeah, I know you will kid."

Roy closed his eyes, and Jamie's needy whines filled his imagination. The only solution was the world's thickest rope and paint. Maybe some kind of chain. Jamie's death would not be swift.

He remembers hearing you.

He might have to kill you too.

[booksandteaandtears]

Makeshift veterinarian

Dr. Jack Abbot x f!cop!reader

Summary: a day that starts bad ends up better because of a certain grumpy trauma doctor. but mostly because of a cat.

genre: fluff, jack doesn't like cats

content warnings: a cat gets hurt and underage drinking

about 2.1k words

masterlist

Some days as a cop were really bad. Some days were pretty good. Some were in between. And some, were actually fantastic.

Now this day hadn't started out fantastic. You had an evening shift, which you hated 'cause it meant dealing with drunk youngsters. You did not get to team up with your preferred partner because they were on vacation. And on top of everything, you had new boots on because someone had puked all over your old ones yesterday and you could not get the smell or the stains out. Bad week.

The new boots were a problem. Not only because you could already feel the blisters coming up, but mostly because new boots meant problems. You'd picked out the pattern years ago: anytime you got new boots and people commented on them, you'd have the worst shift of that year.

So you and your rookie were hiding out in the suburbs, en route to a concerned neighbour that wanted the teens kicked out of the yard a couple houses over. Your partner tonight was basically a teen himself, fresh out of the academy.

"Just left here," Said Cooper while you were driving into a suburb not too far from the city centre. “And then it should be number 88, on your right hand side." You parked the car and both of you stepped out, checking your belt before closing the door. "Right Cooper, this one's yours. Should be an easy one, just tell the neighbour we'll ask them to quiet down and it should be solved easily." He knocked on the door, and it took a minute for a calm face to open it. You couldn't help but notice how handsome he was.

"Mr. Abbot?" Cooper asked. The man nodded and gestured for the two of you to come in. The house was a little cluttered and not too big, filled with books, an old leather sofa and a beat up police scanner was laying on an otherwise empty cabinet. A crutch was placed next to the door and he picked it up when he followed you into the house, leaning on it when he lifted his left leg up, putting his weight on the crutch instead of his right leg. You took a moment to take a closer look at him. His brown greyish hair was messy, like he'd raked his hand trough it a lot. The shadows on his chin and neck were slightly messy, but not unkempt. "It's the neighbourhood kids," he started to explain. "They're making a bunch of noise, which is fine by me, I'm working night shifts over at PTMC anyway. I'm just concerned they're drinking too much. I'd go over there myself but they don't really listen to me." Cooper nodded. He looked at you expectantly. You looked straight back at him. That boy did not know how to take the lead in anything. When the silence got a little too long and unbearable you stepped in. "Sir, any reason you're worried about exuberant alcohol intake, did you see any of the kids? We're not about to walk in there just on a hunch." Mr. Abbot smiled at you, making intense eye contact. "They're screaming about chugging approximately every 7 minutes. There's about 15 boys there, based on the cars in front, maybe a couple girls. If they've been keeping this tempo up since earlier they will all be at least a good couple of beers in at this point. And they're young, about 16 or so, so alcohol poisoning will creep up fast. I hooked two of the kids up to an IV last week, when the neighbour's' kid came around because his friends wouldn't stop puking. I'd rather prevent myself the trouble this week. I’d walk over there myself, but my prosthetic has been acting up and II doubt they’d listen to me anyway." Abbot pointed to the prosthetic in the corner. Cooper was trying to jot down what Abbot was saying, but he was missing half of it.

You decided to end the painful encounter on Cooper's part and promised Mr. Abbot you'd try to reason with the kids. Cooper tried to save face by saying "Thank you for your concern, Mr. Abbot!" a little too loudly. Abbot nodded, but when Cooper turned around he grunted, "Dr. Abbot actually, but I think that's too much information for the kid too remember." Your hand shot to your face, trying not to laugh at your partner, and at least conceal it when you did. Dr. Abbot smirked at you. "Good luck with that one." He winked at you. "Thanks." You whispered back. You could feel your face turning red.

When you arrived at the kid's house, it was more quiet than you expected. You knocked on the door, but when there was no answer you let yourself and Cooper into the garden 'round the back. It seemed the reason for the quiet was that around half of the kids had fallen asleep and the other half was busy making out. Cooper blinked and stared at you. You sighed at him. "Are you going to take charge of this one, or is it up to me again." The blinking continued. "Right." You muttered. "New shoes day and an incapable rookie. What could go wrong."

"Hello there!" You shouted into the garden, trying to assert authority. "Everybody up and at ‘em, cups on the floor, tongues out of each other's mouthes! Look lively!" The kids scrambled up and the sound of red cups dropping filled the air. "So, whose parents am I going to call for the mess around here?" A couple kids pointed towards a dark haired boy on the right, that has just been kissing with a blonde girl. You scanned him quickly. "This is your parents' house?" "Yes, ma'am." The boy answered. "Do they know you and your friends were out drinking here?" He swallowed. "They know about the friends, not about the drinking." You hummed. "That's what I thought. All right, here's what we'll do. Firstly, all this drink is going to get thrown out. You three on the right can get started on that. Secondly you're going to clean this mess up, so your friend won't get busted by his parents. And I'm taking ID's while you do that, so don't thinks you'll get off easy. I'm writing you all down, and next time anything happens you might just be spending a night in jail. I'm guessing you don't want to have to explain that to your parents, now do you?." The kids nodded fiercely. "Then you're all going to go back to your houses to hit the hay. I don't want you driving, so either get someone to pick you up or sleep over here and drive home sober in the morning. Monday afternoon, after school, you'll all be reporting at the women's shelter downtown, and you're going to get put to work. Is that clear to you all?" They nodded again. "I asked, is it clear?" A choir of "yes ma'am" filled the lawn. "Good, and don't entertain the thought that I won't find out whether you've been by the shelter, 'cause I will. Now Cooper, get to writing down names." Cooper opened his notepad and somehow got ink al over his hands from his pen. "Yes ma'am." This was bound to be a long night.

Half an hour later you were headed back towards the car, the kids were dealt with. You were trying to explain to Cooper why you had chosen to deal with the evening as you had when you heard a noise on the street beside you. You stopped walking and turned towards the sound. An orange cat lay on the street, blood dripping from his left hind leg. You hurried towards it immediately. "Oh you poor thing, did someone hit you and run? Oh darling." You stroked the cat's head and a dishearteningly quiet meow escaped it. "Oh, you sweet, your leg hurts, I know. We'll make it better." You picked the poor thing up and turned towards Cooper. His eyes were big as he asked you, "What are we going to do with that now?"

"The cat's broken its leg." Is what you decided to start the conversation with. Dr. Abbot stood in front of you, staring you in the face. "And you brought it to me to fix up? Saw my leg and thought I might feel for the thing? I don't like cats. Try someone else." "You're a doctor, you're supposed to help. Don't be so grumpy about it." "I am a doctor, yes, for humans. Not for furry things with claws. You need a vet for that." Your eyes dropped to the Dog Tags that were hanging out of his V-neck shirt. "You are a vet." You sighed and pushed past him, into the house. He grabbed your shoulder to stop you and looked you in the eyes, again. "Wrong kind of vet, kid. Take the fur ball to a real one." You shook the hand off and placed the cat on his kitchen table. "Just take a quick peek at the poor thing. It's shivering already and I'm sure you know how to fix it. If you just set the leg we can drop the poor boy of at a shelter afterwards. The vet won't take him in if no one's paying."

Dr. Abbot circled the table. "Girl." He said. "Pardon me?" "It's a girl," he said, gesturing between the cat's leg, "There's just a tail between those legs, nothing else." A smirk crossed your face. "You're going to help her then?" Abbot looked back at you. "I'll see what I can do. But I make no promises." You smiled. "Thank you, Dr. Abbot." He turned to the sofa and grabbed a bag. "Just Jack will do for now, I'm not treating any human patients anyhow."

Half an hour later the cat was treated with about half the contains of Jack's go-bag, and she was snoozing happily in a towel on the table. You had thought him handsome before, but it had somehow multiplied while watching him hunched over the cat, all his focus on trying to help the poor thing. It didn't help that his arms had looked amazing while doing it. You swallowed your thoughts. "Thank you Jack, I know I pushed you into that, you didn't have to do it." Jack scoffed. "You act like there was any choice, you just barged in here with that girl. I can't say not to a pretty lady bossing me around. Pretty sure you'd have called the cops on me if I had refused." His eyes twinkled with amusement. A smirk touched the corners of your lips. "I won't comment on that. I'm just a good judge of character, I knew you wouldn't say no in the end.” You picked up the jacket that you had shrugged off to assist in keeping the car still. “Cooper's just going to get the car and then we will be on our way with the poor thing." A sigh escaped Jack and he started mumbling. You blinked at him, you couldn't hear what he said. He sighed again and repeated himself. "I'll keep the thing here for now. I just spent 30 minutes saving its leg, it would be a waste is she was just going to get an infection at the shelter now." You raised your eyebrow. "You're going to take care of her?" He nodded and petted the cat's head. "Sure, though I don't really know how." You avoided his attentive eyes by petting the cat as well. Your finger brushed against his and your heart skipped a beat. "I'll come by after my shift." You answered, probably sounding a bit too eager. "I'll get some cat food and a scratch pole, I'll help you figure it out." Jack nodded and smiled at you. "Sure, I'd like that. It's a date." You looked up from the cat and returned his smile. “Don’t get your hopes up, Jack Abbot. I’m only coming for the cat.”

Your new shoes had no impact the rest of the night, and the next morning, when you came to help him with the cat, Jack had breakfast waiting for you. Best shift of your life.