#it explains why she likes shitty coffee though

[onetomb]

Good news: I have successfully made contact with the Ghost.

Bad news: She apparently talks like a cowboy.

[anniebeemine]

Hi! For a request I was thinking that reader is always a little bruised or banged up, and the BAU thinks the worst but spencer has seen her in action (bumping into doorways, tripping over her own feet etc) and the team thinks she's getting hurt at home since she's so locked in and sure on her feet at work.

So spencer has to explain that no, she's just really clumsy, no she doesn't have a shitty partner. And then once placated the team starts digging into why he knows so well. And it turns out they've been dating for like a year?

Emily had been watching you closely for weeks, her concern growing with each passing day. It wasn't just one bruise or one scrape; it was the consistent pattern of them that made her uneasy. The small bumps on your knees, the darkened spots on your arms, and, most recently, the large bruise she'd noticed on your side when you'd both been changing in the locker room.

When she pulled you aside into the conference room that morning, you could see the worry etched on her face. She quietly closed the door behind her, creating a private space away from the usual bustle of the BAU.

You sat down in one of the chairs, a little confused by the sudden seriousness. "Emily, what's going on?" you asked, your voice tinged with concern as you met her eyes.

She hesitated for a moment, clearly searching for the right words. Finally, she sighed and looked at you with a mix of worry and compassion. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, her tone almost hesitant.

The question took you by surprise. "Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, though the way she was looking at you made you feel like there was more to it than just a casual check-in.

Emily leaned against the table, crossing her arms. "Look, I’ve noticed the bruises. Over the time we’ve been working together, I’ve seen you with bumps on your knees, bruises on your thighs... And yesterday, in the locker room, I saw that bruise on your side." Her voice was gentle, but you could hear the undercurrent of concern. "I’m worried."

Your stomach dropped slightly, realizing where this was going. "What do you mean by worried?" you asked, your voice a bit shaky.

Emily took a deep breath, her eyes searching yours. "Is someone hurting you?" she asked quietly, her words careful, as if she were afraid of the answer.

For a moment, you were stunned. You hadn’t realized how your clumsiness had been perceived. You quickly shook your head, wanting to dispel the notion as fast as possible. "No, no, it's not like that at all," you assured her, a small, nervous laugh escaping your lips. "I’m just...a bit of a klutz."

Emily raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "A klutz?" she repeated, her voice skeptical.

You nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed now that you had to explain. "Yeah. It's my fault, I just don't look where I'm going."

Emily watched you carefully, her expression softening a bit, but the worry didn’t completely leave her eyes. "You’re sure that’s all it is?" she asked, needing to be certain.

You smiled reassuringly, though you could still see the concern in her eyes. "I promise, Emily. I’m just accident-prone. It’s nothing to worry about."

She let out a long sigh, her shoulders relaxing a bit, though she still looked uncertain. "Okay," she said quietly, "but if there’s ever anything you need to talk about, you know I’m here, right?"

You nodded, touched by her concern. "I know. Thanks, Emily."

She gave you a small, understanding smile before pushing off the table. "Alright, let’s get back to work. But please, be careful, okay?"

You laughed lightly, nodding as you stood up. "I’ll try my best."

+++

Emily and JJ were deep in conversation by the coffee machine, their voices low and filled with concern. "I'm just really worried about Y/N," Emily murmured, her brow furrowed as she poured herself another cup of coffee. "The bruises, the scrapes… it’s like they’re always coming up with new ones."

JJ nodded, her expression mirroring Emily’s worry. "I know what you mean. It’s like she’s in a constant state of recovery. Something doesn’t add up."

As they spoke, Spencer walked into the break room, heading straight for the coffee pot. He noticed the tension between his colleagues, but didn't say anything right away. Instead, he silently poured himself another cup of coffee, listening to their conversation.

"I just feel like we need to do something," Emily continued, her voice tinged with frustration. "We can’t just ignore it."

JJ sighed. "I don’t know. Maybe we should just ask directly."

"I already tried that," Emily said. She picked at the chip in her mug. "I just don't know what else to do. Those bruises look bad."

Spencer cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "The bruise on Y/N's side," he said casually, "came from when she fell while we were rollerskating last weekend." He stirred his coffee as if the information was nothing out of the ordinary. He opened another packet of sugar.

Emily and JJ exchanged surprised glances, their curiosity piqued. "Rollerskating?" Emily asked, her tone skeptical. "And how would you know that?"

Spencer hesitated for a split second before answering, "She told me."

Their eyes narrowed in unison as they studied him, sensing that there was more to the story. Spencer could feel their scrutiny intensify, making him shift uncomfortably on his feet. He took a slow sip of his coffee, hoping to deflect their questions, but it was no use.

"Spencer," JJ said in that calm, knowing tone she used when coaxing the truth out of someone. "Is there something you’re not telling us?"

He sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get out of this easily. "Alright," he began, setting his coffee down on the counter. "Y/N and I have been... working through a bucket list of dates we've always wanted to try. The twisted ankle was from salsa dancing a couple of weeks ago. The scraped knees were from a bike ride we took. And the bruise on her side? That happened when she fell rollerskating." He smiled to himself. "She's also just super clumsy."

Emily and JJ exchanged another look, this time one of understanding mixed with a hint of amusement. "A bucket list?" Emily repeated, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You’ve been secretly doing all these activities together?"

Spencer nodded, slightly sheepish. "Yeah. It’s something we’ve been planning for a while. We just wanted to have fun and try new things together."

Emily narrowed her eyes. "How long?"

Spencer felt a flush creeping up his neck, turning his ears pink. He stammered, trying to find the right words. "Uh, well... I’m not sure if I should really say…"

JJ arched an eyebrow, a playful yet determined look on her face. "Oh, come on, Spencer. If you don’t tell us, we’ll just ask Y/N ourselves."

Spencer let out a small sigh, realizing he was cornered. "Alright, alright," he conceded, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s been about a year. We've been going on weekly dates for just under 12 months. Next week is our one-year anniversary."

Both Emily and JJ’s eyes widened in surprise before their faces broke into wide grins. "A year?" Emily exclaimed, her tone a mix of astonishment and delight. "Spencer, that’s amazing!"

JJ quickly joined in, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Congratulations! That’s really wonderful."

Spencer held up a hand, a nervous look in his eyes as he glanced around the room. "Please, keep it down," he urged, his voice still soft. "We promised each other we’d tell everyone together. We didn’t want to make a big deal out of it until we were ready."

Emily and JJ exchanged knowing glances, their smiles softening. "We get it," JJ said gently. "We’ll keep it under wraps until you’re both ready to share."

Emily nodded in agreement. "But just so you know, we’re really happy for you. It’s great to see you so... well, happy."

Spencer’s blush deepened, but he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. "Thanks," he mumbled, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the coffee he was holding.

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Seven

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour, some of it gets a little rough. Some mention of an emotionally abusive parent, and readers problematic views of her own autonomy. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.5k

A/N : I think I've finally sorted the tagging issue.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX

MASTER LIST

Chapter Seven

“Are you alright?” Karen asked, pulling your attention from your pancakes. “You’ve been really quiet.”

Your cheeks warmed and you immediately felt bad; she’d shown up early to go to breakfast with you before taking you to the Met, and all you’d been able to think about was the Homeland agent who’d approached you the night before.

“I’m fine,” you answered, forcing a smile. “Just tired. We were out late last night.”

“Billy took you out?” She seemed surprised.

“He took me dress shopping,” you explained, reaching for your coffee. “He’s throwing a party next month and he wanted me to have a new dress.”

“Oh, his Vampire Night party,” Karen nodded and you shot her a confused look. “He does it every year, it’s to celebrate the anniversary vampire’s being accepted into society. It’s supposed to be a big deal but, for Billy, it’s just an excuse to throw a crazy party every year.”

“Does he normally invite the person who’s...” you struggled for a moment, not wanting to out-and-out state what you did in the busy little diner, “working for him when he throws parties?”

“Usually - I mean, it’d be pretty shitty to throw a party in the penthouse and not invite the other person living there.”

“So, the others, they all went to his parties and they enjoyed themselves?”

“Yeah, if there’s one thing Billy knows, it’s how to throw a good party,” she answered, fixing you with a look, as if she could sense there was more you wanted to ask. “Why the sudden interest?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal. “It just seemed like such an easy job and, I guess, I just don’t understand why anyone would do anything to ruin it for themselves. Do you know what happened to them once they left?”

You needed something, some sort of sign, to tell you that you weren’t wrong, that you were safe with Billy. And, if you weren’t...

Well, in that case, you needed to find a way out that didn’t involve going home with your tail between your legs.

“As far as I know, they all went back to their lives. Though there was one...” Karen trailed off, the thought alone making her wince. You shot her a questioning look, silently begging her to continue. “Not the last one, but the one before, she had to be removed by building security. She tried to come back a couple of times but she eventually got the hint.”

The one before the last one - so, one of the last three, one of the ones Madani thought was dead. She’d been fine when she left and she’d been seen a couple of times since. So, that meant that Homeland was wrong about Billy, right?

With your mind set at ease, you happily finished breakfast and, before you knew it, you and Karen were stepping into the Met. You felt like a kid at Christmas. It was everything you’d imagined and more. Karen could barely hold back her amusement as you moved from exhibit to exhibit, never seeming to lose any of your initial excitement. It was something you’d always wanted to do, filled with things you’d always wanted to see.

By lunch time, poor Karen needed to sit down, and you needed a coffee so you ended up in the cafe. When Karen headed to the bathroom, you looked over the map, making a mental note of what you’ve seen and what you still wanted to see. Distracted, you didn’t notice the figure beside you until she’d taken a seat. The Homeland agent, Madani.

“Are you following me?” You demanded, keeping your voice low.

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Madani answered, ignoring your sharp tone. “Have you thought any more about what we discussed last night?”

“Look, I don’t know what you think you know, but I’m pretty sure Billy hasn’t done anything wrong.”

She fumbled with her pocket, quickly pulling out her phone and showing it to you. “These are the three missing women; Layla El-Faouly, Krista Dumont and Mary Poots.” With each name she moved to a different photo, letting you see each of the missing women. “Has he mentioned any of those names?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Have you seen anything in his penthouse that might belong to them?” You shook your head, quickly feeling overwhelmed by all of the questions.

“No, and anyway, you said the last three women, right?” You asked and Madani nodded. “People have seen one of them since. She even got thrown out of Billy's building a couple of times.”

“You're sure of that?”

“Yes,” frustration slipping into your tone. “Whatever you're looking for, it's not -”

“Has Russo done anything to hurt you? Is he forcing you into a sexual relationship or have you felt like you’re being controlled?”

“What? No.” 

“You might not even realise that he’s doing it. Some vampires are very good at controlling their victims, Russo is -”

“He’s not controlling me,” you told her as firmly as you could, glancing around, hoping to spot Karen. “Can you please leave me alone? I don’t want to lose my job because of this.”

“I can protect you -”

“I don’t need protection, I need this job,” you told her. “Please, I wasn’t kidnapped, he hasn’t hurt me, and I know he hasn’t hurt anyone else. Can you please just leave me alone before you cause any trouble?”

“Okay, I’ll go,” Madani relented, “but I’ll be close by if you need me.”

You muttered that you wouldn’t as she stood and left, just in time for Karen to return.

“Who was that?”

“She was asking me for directions,” you lied, as you stood, not wanting to think about anything Madani had said to you. 

It was all crazy, ridiculous. You weren’t being coerced or controlled and you still didn’t believe Billy was capable of hurting anyone. Fortunately, there were plenty of exhibits left to distract you for the rest of the day.

By the time you returned to the penthouse it was getting late. You rushed to draw blood and to throw some pasta onto the stove. When you were done, you found Billy on the sofa, his eyes fixed on the view of the city until he heard you approach.

He smiled and you felt butterflies, and there was a spring in your step as you made your way to the kitchen to grab a glass for his blood before joining him on the sofa.

“You look nice.” His eyes trailing down your body.

“Oh,” you looked down at yourself and the skirt-blouse combination, “Karen took me to the Met. We got back late. I haven’t had time to change yet.”

“I’m glad,” Billy said, taking the glass from your hand, “I love your legs.”

Your cheeks warmed and you bit your lip. As much as Billy liked to pay you compliments, you still weren’t used to it. Honestly, you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to it, especially when Billy managed to make every compliment sound simultaneously sweet and filthy.

“I got you something,” he said a moment later, motioning to a large paper bag on the floor in front of him. Cautiously, you pulled it towards you and pulled out a large yellow, faux-fur blanket. “You can leave it out here for when we watch TV together.”

Butterflies filled your stomach at the gesture, but there was one thought you couldn’t quite shake; “it’s yellow.”

And yellow didn’t exactly match the dark and minimalist decor in the penthouse.

“It made me think of you when I saw it,” Billy shrugged.

The butterflies in your stomach seemed to multiply; it was a warm and happy colour, it was the colour of sunlight, and it had made Billy think of you.

Hugging the blanket to your chest you thanked him before carefully placing it back in the bag.

“I’ve got some time before I need to leave for work, if you want to hang out?” He asked as if he needed to, as if he thought there was any chance that you wouldn’t want to stay there with him.

As he drank, you told him about your day and every little thing you’d seen in the Met. And he listened. It seemed like he was actually listening, hanging on your every word, like he cared, like he wasn’t just indulging you and letting you run your mouth.

“Maybe next time I could take you?” He offered. “They do night openings a few times a month.”

“I’d love that,” you answered without a moment's hesitation.

“Really?”

“Of course. I like spending time with you.”

He finished his drink and quickly put the glass down, licking his lips as he turned himself towards you.

“You like spending time with me?” He repeated. 

You couldn’t tell if he was amused or confused. “Yeah, you’re... different to the sort of people I’m used to being around. I like talking to you.”

“Just talking to me?” He asked, a smirk starting to tug at his lips. You felt your face start to heat again as your gaze dropped to your lap. “Still so shy, so easy to embarrass,” he muttered, placing a hand on your bare knee, “but I bet you’re already wet under this little skirt.”

Your breath caught and your thighs clenched together at the realisation that he was right.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look until you realised he was moving. You watched, confused as he slipped onto the floor, his hands on your knees, urging your legs apart so he could sit between them. It wasn’t until he started to slowly kiss your thigh that you realised what he was going to do. Your heart started to race, and Billy noticed.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his cold fingers tracing soothing patterns on your leg.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I’ve just... I’ve never...”

“It’s okay, hummingbird,” Billy reassured you, smiling softly. “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

While you managed not to show it, those words almost broke you. He always seemed to care about you, about making sure you felt good, and that wasn’t something you were ever sure you’d get used to.

Your cheeks burned hotter when he reached beneath your skirt and eased your panties down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the floor. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it. He pulled you towards him, lifting your legs over his shoulder while continuing to trail kisses up your thighs. Up and up and up, until -

“Remember the rules,” he told you, gazing up at you from between your thighs, “and breathe.”

Until he mentioned it, you hadn’t even realised that you were holding your breath. With a nod, you let out a slow breath, trying to steel yourself for this new experience. His cold fingers gently parted your folds and a shiver ran down your spine. You bit your lip, keeping your eyes focused on him until you finally felt it. His tongue slipped through your arousal, delicately at first and then with a little more pressure. You back arched and your hips pressed forwards, and you could have swore you felt Billy’s lips pull into a smirk against you.

He alternated between long, slow laps of his tongue and faster flicks, obviously taking note of your reactions. One moment he was focused on your clit, the next, you felt the tip of his tongue against your entrance. Your body shuddered, completely overwhelmed, and you almost lost your mind when you heard Billy groan.

“Billy -” you gasped, knowing that you weren’t going to last long.

“Not yet,” he almost-growled from between your thighs.

Before you could even think to beg, his tongue was against you again. Your fingers slipped into his hair, needing something to hold on to as your thighs started to tremble. It felt like you were being devoured by his mouth, his lips and his greedy tongue making you feel sensations you’d never felt before. Soon enough, it felt like his grip on your thighs was the only thing keeping you from crushing his head - it was too much and not enough all at once, you desperately wanted the release of an orgasm but you didn’t ever want him to stop.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck...” you whimpered, barely holding back. “Billy, please...”

It almost seemed cruel when you felt his lips on your throbbing clit, gently sucking. Your back arched again, trying to press yourself closer but his strong grip kept you in place. 

Your fingers tugged on his hair, twisting and pulling, earning another groan from Billy. Every muscle tensed and you felt like a spring coiled too tight, like you could snap at any moment. And, thankfully, Billy seemed to realise that.

“Okay, hummingbird, you can come,” he muttered, barely pulling his lips away from you. 

One more flick of his tongue and you were done for, crying out as you came undone. All the while his tongue kept moving, lapping the wetness that spilled from you, and not pulling back until your thighs were violently shaking.

While you struggled to catch your breath, Billy lowered your legs and rested his chin on your thigh, grinning up at you. 

“What are you smirking at?” You managed to ask, fighting back a smile of your own.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before.”

You bit your lip, your cheeks starting to warm again. “I think the situation called for it.”

That got a laugh from Billy. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said before getting himself off the floor and sitting beside you again. “Did you enjoy it?”

Of course, you couldn’t answer. Once he’d asked the question you couldn’t even look at him. All you could do was give the slightest little nod, suddenly acutely aware that your panties had ended up on the floor in front of the TV and, as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes from them.

That is, until Billy placed a hand on your cheek, turning your face to his. For a few seconds he simply looked at you, almost seeming confused, before smiling again.

“What is it about you?” He asked quietly, his thumb softly caressing your cheek. “Why can’t I get enough?”

Before you could answer, he’d closed the distance between you, kissing you and sending you into a tailspin. How could he keep saying things like that, how could he keep making you feel so special, when he seemed so reluctant to - god, you didn’t even know. You still didn’t understand how this casual thing was supposed to work. The time you spent together left you feeling like there was something, a connection between you, but that wasn’t what you’d agreed to. It was just supposed to be fun.

But, surely casual fun was supposed to lead to sex, right?

“That’s not what I want to see when I kiss you,” he remarked, pulling back a little, leaving you even more confused until he clarified; “you’re frowning.”

“I was just...” you fell into silence for a moment, not sure how to say it. “Do you want me, Billy?”

“Do I want you?” He repeated.

“Yeah, I mean like -”

“Oh, hummingbird, I know exactly what you mean,” he almost laughed, his hand still on your cheek. “I’m just not sure how you can ask me that after I’ve just been on my knees worshipping you.”

Not knowing how to respond to that, you kissed him, tasting the lingering traces of your arousal on his lips and tongue. You pressed closer and closer, until you felt an arm around your waist, pulling you onto his lap.

“I don’t want to rush you,” he muttered against your lips.

“You’re not,” you answered breathlessly, sinking back into his lips.. 

He pulled you closer, positioning you so you could feel the bulge of his erection against you. The feeling alone was enough to cause your hips to shudder and buck, still feeling sensitive from his tongue. Billy groaned, his lips pulling from yours and finding your neck. You barely noticed the buttons of your blouse being undone until he started to push it off your shoulders.

Trembling fingers started to pull open his shirt, hands exploring every inch of cold skin that you revealed, feeling the raised lines of scars beneath your touch. Billy squirmed when your hand trailed over his shoulder, his body pressing up against yours.

Your heart raced faster when you felt him unclasp your bra. You barely had time to finish removing it before his lips were on your breasts, kissing, licking and sucking. Every cold touch sent a jolt of pleasure right to your core and, before you knew it, you were gently rocking your hips against him.

“Billy,” you gasped as his lips closed over your nipple.

Desperately, you dropped your hands to his waist, fumbling with his belt then, when that was open you started on the fastenings of his pants.

A yelp escaped you when you felt his teeth on your nipple, not biting hard enough to break skin but more than enough to give you a shock. An eager growl sounded in the back of his throat as he moved to your other nipple. But his sudden roughness wasn’t enough to stop you.

Despite his cold touch roaming your body, you felt hot, like you were on fire. Every deep breath you took was him; his cologne, his clean shirt, the products in his hair. You were intoxicated, drunk on Billy Russo. His fingertips pressed into your hips with a bruising force, but all you cared about was getting his zipper down and letting him possess you completely.

“My little hummingbird,” he muttered in that low, dangerous tone as his lips moved back to yours. “I’m going to ruin you.”

He kissed you again, groaning into your mouth with an unbridled want that seemed to match your own. The words didn’t shock you like they perhaps should have, they didn’t worry you at all. You trusted him to stay in control.

Clumsy fingers tugged at his zipper and -

“Shit!” You yelped as the zipper nicked your skin, pulling back from him, lifting your finger to your lips.

Billy’s whole body went rigid beneath you, eyes narrowing, dropping to the finger between your lips.

“It’s alright, I just -” you started and stopped just as quickly, looking at the small bleeding cut before looking at Billy.

His eyes seemed to get darker and you watched his throat bob uncomfortable as he tried to swallow. You squirmed as his grip tightened on your hips, holding you in place. The tiny cut bleeding in a way that only tiny cuts could.

“Billy...” you muttered softly, trying to soothe the monster inside of him.

Gingerly, you reached for him, tenderly running your fingers through his hair while you returned your bleeding finger to your mouth, trying to remove temptation. 

His jaw tensed before he lunged forwards, pressing his lips to yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, desperately seeking your finger and the tiniest drop of blood. You tried to push his face away, your hand on his jaw, your finger ending up between his lips.

“Billy, stop,” you pleaded, “please.” 

Suddenly you found yourself hitting the floor as he stood and moved away from you. It took you a second or so to get over the initial shock before you grabbed your blouse and covered yourself. By the time you got to your feet, Billy was halfway to the elevator, buttoning his shirt as he went.

“I’m sorry.” The words left you in a desperate and broken tone, not knowing what you could possibly say to fix the situation or stop him from leaving.

Billy froze, taking an uncomfortable breath before turning back to you, confusion written all over his face. His eyes moved from you to the elevator and back again, weighing his options.

“Why are you sorry?” He asked, a crack in his voice that made your heart ache. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I was clumsy, and I pushed you, and I -” you sniffled, blinking as your eyes threatened tears. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he told you, voice firm and certain, “that’s not what happened.”

“Then why are you leaving me?”

Billy was at a loss, staring as you tried not to break down in front of him. Your mind was racing over everything that had happened, over everything that you had done wrong - all the things that Billy seemed to want to ignore. You’d always been clumsy, never careful enough. Your mother had always chastised you, telling you that you only did it for attention, telling you that you were needy, criticising you for always wanting to be the centre of attention.

It was easy to spiral into those negative thoughts, to see all your faults and failings, to feel broken and unloveable. 

He stepped towards you, confusion softening into something more like concern.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated, “I did. I almost lost control, I could’ve -”

“I shouldn’t’ve complained, I -”

“Don’t say that,” he snapped, his tone sharp enough to jolt you from your self-loathing. “I told you that you always have a choice here. Always. No one gets to hurt you, and you never have to go along with anything that scares you or makes you uncomfortable. Do you understand?”

On some level you did, you understood completely, you knew that he was right, but years of being made to feel like you were the problem were hard to overcome.

Reluctantly, he closed the distance between you, his hand finding your cheek, urging you to look at him.

“How you feel matters, hummingbird. What you want matters,” he told you. “I don’t want to scare you. It’s me, I - there’s something wrong with me, something I can’t always control, and you deserve better than that. I don’t want to do anything that you’re not a hundred percent certain about. I never want you to regret anything that we do together.”

It felt like your throat was closing up and your vision started to blur, it wasn’t until the first sob shook your body that you realised you were crying. The idea that you had a choice, that you got to decide what you wanted, and that your feelings mattered - no one had let you have that before. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight against his chest.

“No one gets to hurt you,” he told you again. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

Even from himself, though the words went unsaid.

He shushed you as you whimpered the word sorry again and held you tighter when you hid your face against his shoulder. Minutes passed, and Billy held you, not moving, not pulling away. Eventually you stilled, your breathing slowing and the sobs subsiding. But, still, Billy didn’t move. His hold on you didn’t loosen until you slowly pulled back.

Your head instantly dropped, the back of your hand trying to scrub the tear stains from your cheeks. One of his hands remained on you, resting gently on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered.

“What are you sorry for?” 

“I don’t know,” you finally admitted. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do you?”

The question hung awkwardly in the air between you, neither one of you wanting to answer it. It was more than obvious now that you both had baggage, you both had parts of yourself that you were desperate to keep hidden, but it was also becoming clear that you weren’t going to be able to hide forever.

“I think we’ll have to eventually,” Billy told you.

As much as you hated it, you knew he was right. 

Silence lingered for a few seconds before you quietly confessed; “I feel safe with you.”

It felt important to tell him that, like everything else could come after. Despite his little lapses in control, you trusted him. He looked like he wanted to ask how you could feel that way after everything but, at the same time, it was clear that he didn’t want to know.

“Are you... okay?” You asked after a moment of silence.

“It’s complicated,” he said and, for a second, it seemed like he was going to leave it at that. “I just - when you’re a vampire, everything is so loud. Everything feels like it’s too much. It makes you want so much. Sometimes I feel like I can’t control it.”

You stomach knotted as you watched him struggle, the jagged edge to his tone furthering something he’d already let slip days ago; he didn’t want to be like that. He didn’t want to be a vampire.

“I feel like that too, sometimes,” you offered softly. “Not exactly the same but - my mom always used to tell me that no one likes emotional women. Whenever I’d get upset, she’d tell me I was being hysterical or call me an attention seeker. So I started holding it all in. I wouldn’t complain or get upset, I’d just pretend I was fine, and it made me feel like I was going to burst...”

Without warning, he pulled you into another hug, and you let him, your face pressing back into the damp spot you’d left on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, sounding almost guilty, like he thought he was somehow to blame. “You don’t have to hold it in with me, you don’t have to pretend or go along with anything that you don’t want.”

“I do want this though,” you confessed, stopping short of telling Billy that you wanted him, that you were starting to feel something for him. It had only been a few weeks but, already, you felt a connection to him, something you didn’t want to give up. 

He seemed torn, almost like he wanted to cut his losses and end things now, and you weren’t sure how you were going to make it through the rest of the year if you had to go back to how things had been at the start. That is, if he even wanted to keep you around. Technically, because of him, you’d broken your contract.

“You need to promise me something; if you’re ever not comfortable, you’ll tell me to stop, and if I ever scare you, you’ll tell me,” he told you in a firm and uncompromising tone.

“I promise, but -” you hesitated, not sure if he’d appreciate your condition, “- but you have to tell me when you’re not feeling well.”

Billy nodded and you sank forward into his arms again, holding him tight for a little while longer until he finally had to get ready and leave for work. And, of course, you felt terrible that he had to go and change out of his crease, tear-stained shirt before he went. He left with the promise of spending time with you tomorrow.

CHAPTER EIGHT

End Note : The Marvel name drops are mostly just easter eggs (and because I HATE coming up with names for side characters. I feel like a lot went on in this chapter but I don't actually have a lot to say about it. I'm just slowly piling on the mystery and angst.

Anyway! Thanks for reading! I've really loved all your comments and questions on this series. Have a great weekend!!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt. (I think I've found a way to get tagging to work properly again, please let me know if it doesn't tag you.)

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[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part seven

part eight: i think about jumping off of very tall somethings

Eddie was fully convinced he had lost whatever remaining dignity he might have had when his friends had found him sunken into his beanbag chair with random detritus strewn around the room. He really thought he could not feel any lower than when Ronnie made it more obvious than necessary that she was picking her way through Eddie's junk to stick a hand into his nest and pull him out by his collar. He thought that was rock bottom, but being early for coffee with Robin and Nancy and having to wait with a cooling americano he spent way too much money on really gave that whole experience a run for its money.

Ronnie had suggested dming Robin and Nancy and testing the waters to see if they would be willing to broker some sort of reunion with Steve. Eddie stared at her like she had suggested he deliver the one ring to mordor alone; however, she obviously had a point since the newly announced couple suggested meeting up.

"Hey! Eddie! Sorry we're late!" Robin caught Eddie's attention as Nancy went to order.

"Oh, uh, no worries," Eddie fumbled, "I'm just happy you're here at all honest."

"I mean, Nance said it's only fair to hear you out but you were fucking brutal to my best friend, dude, so like the window to give you some grace is pretty fucking small," Robin answered.

"No, yeah totally understood. How do you want to do this?" Eddie asked.

"Why don't you just explain what happened from your side of things. From our angle, you look like kind of a douche but also I feel like maybe Steve didn't handle things great either? I dunno. I mean, you made him really happy, if we have a chance to fix that, I think I owe it to Steve, right?" Robin answered.

"Sure, yeah, no that makes sense," Eddie started as Nancy sat down with her and Robin's drinks.

"Keep going, Eddie, this is mostly Robin's thing anyway," Nancy prompted. She did not look quite as open to fixing things as Robin did and Eddie felt a little more nervous after he let himself relax in Robin's easy presence.

"For sure, so like obviously you know all of the like tabloid bullshit about Steve and whatever and like I kind of got it and understood but then without any warning I show up and Steve's like gorgeous and super successful ex was just on his couch and Steve isn't willing to explain? I mean that was pretty fucking hard to swallow," Eddie finished a little less certain of where he stood with Robin as she narrowed her eyes over her tea.

"So instead of trusting Steve and listening to him when he told you how much the tabloids have lied about him throughout his career you let the fact that I was present in his home be enough to trump years of what you all had built?" Nancy questioned. Eddie could see her journalism chops coming out.

"That's fair. I mean, I definitely acted without a lot of thought but like, why wouldn't you have looped me in? Did you guys not trust me?" Eddie asked still trying to figure out why he was left flat footed all those weeks ago.

"I think that might be on me," Robin piped up, "I was pretty nervous about coming out and I think Steve was being super protective and didn't want to ask me to come out to more people than I was wanting to. It's not that he didn't trust you, Eddie, it's that we had some pretty shitty years with different agents trying to push me in different directions and I think he just was sick of feeling like outside forces were making me move quicker than I was ready to. And it's not like you made it easy on him to reach out to you after. How was he supposed to respond when you blocked him on literally every platform?"

"I guess I didn't think he would want to explain or he'd try to like explain everything away even though it had seemed obvious at the time he was cheating on me," Eddie paused when both Robin and Nancy threw death glares across the table, "Jeez, I know now that was stupid but at the time it was the only rational I could see."

"I guess we should stop interrogating you, you do seem pretty serious, otherwise I don't think you would have agreed to meet both of us," Nancy jumped in.

"I really regret cutting him off like I did. I know I got way too in my head about everything immediately and just didn't give it time or let him respond," Eddie tried to sound as apologetic as he felt.

"We believe you, you two are both dinguses," Robin cut in, "more importantly, what are we going to do about that fucking song and how the hell do you propose apologizing for all the shit you stirred?"

"I thought we were done with the interrogation," Eddie held his hands up.

"Only about whether or not you're genuine, you still have to figure out how you are putting my bestie back together," Robin answered.

"So about that. I have a couple ideas. One, I feel like a song got us into this mess and my label wants more music anyways so I am kind of thinking of an apology song. The rest of my band has actually started workshopping some stuff with me to try to put it together as soon as we can. I'm kind of hoping to release it before Steve gets back so we are a bit under the clock," Eddie began, "And second, that's where I was kind of hoping you guys could help. I don't want to like ambush the guy but I also don't know if Steve will be interested in meeting with me or like ready to start dating again. I was kind of hoping I could crash one of your movie nights? Maybe once Steve gets settled a bit more?"

"Steve is not the best with surprises," Robin thought aloud, "but that's not a no, it's a convince me."

"I just figure he'll be in his space and relaxed and he also fully has an out to have you kick me out if he isn't interested. If he is, I was kind of hoping you too would be willing to make yourselves scarce?" Eddie hoped that was enough.

Surprisingly, Nancy was the one to answer.

"I think we have a deal, Munson," Nancy stuck her hand out for Eddie to shake.

Eddie left the cafe feeling more hopeful than he had in some time.

part nine

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(if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

[mncxbe]

Hiii !! Can you write an akutagawa x PM!fem reader smut where reader is his and gin's friend from the slums that survived and never left their side?

Omg I love this idea♡ ok so basically they all live together in a nice little apartment that's it. enjoy♡♡

°☆●

Angelina? Is that you?

𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut♡/ subby Aku manspreading

It's been years since you've moved in with the Akutagawa siblings in that pretty apartment complex in the heart of Yokohama. The condo you shared wasn't big, but there was enough space for everyone to do their thing. Or so you thought-

Akutagawa would beg to differ. One would say that living with two girls is bound to be bothersome, but truth was that only you were the problem. Every time he passed by your room the faint smell of cheap cigarettes and perfume trickled deep into his lungs, making his head spin.

What was worse was your habit of always scattering your belongings all over the place; a lipbalm and a hairtie on the kitchen counter, half-read books annotated with purple note tabs under pillows on the couch, unpaired socks and lacey gloves on the ground somewhere near the entrance hall and empty cups of saccharine coffee- smeared with your signature dark red rouge at the brim.

Still, no matter how many times he asked you not to smoke inside, to stop leaving your clothes strewn all over the place or to wash the dishes you just wouldn't listen to him.

For a while, Akutagawa resolved to be the better man. He pretended not to notice your untidiness, turned a blind eye for a while; but when he found one of your bras hanged prettily on the bathroom knob he just couldn't help but snap.

Stomping off to your bedroom he flung the door open and stepped inside, holding your lacey lingerie in his hand.

"Care the explain this?" he spat, brows furrowing in annoyance.

From your place on the windowsill you turned your head to face him, lips curling into a sly smile when you noticed his expression.

"Oops. Sorry, I forgot about that" you shrugged, rolling the filter of your cigarette between two slender fingers.

The light autumn breeze that entered the room through the open window sent a chill down Akutagawa's spine. How could you sit in that cold wearing only a tank top and some shorts?

"Don't apologize again, idiot" he huffed, discarding the bra on your ruffled bedsheets. "You always do that"

"Look, I had a shitty day so give me a break." you replied nonchalantly as you held his cold gaze. Your attitude made Akutagawa's blood boil and it took all the willpower he had not to shove you out of the window right then and there.

Instead, he gritted his teeth, clenching his fists until his nails left crescent marks on the calloused palms of his hands; the familiar tingle of pain soothing his nerves.

"And do I look like I care about that? If you wanna complain about your day go talk to Gin"

"She's not home though" you noted, beckoning him to come closer. "Would it hurt if you spent some time with me?"

"I uh... Have some plans" he replied plainly, gaining a soft giggle from you.

"Yea, yea sure. I bet you do. Now come here"

Although he didn't appreciate your mocking tone, Akutagawa closed the distance between you and took a seat on the wide windowsill. For a few moments you stood in silence, unfocused gaze following the flow of glowing vehicles outside. It was only 8 p.m but the sun was long gone, seemingly swallowed by the dark night sky.

"So..." you eventually spoke "How was your day? It's been a while since we spent some time like this, just us"

Akutagawa rolled his eyes and coughed dryly when a coil of smoke from your cigarette reached his nostrils.

"Fucking hell... I wonder why" he cursed, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

You flicked the fag out of the window with a sigh before leaning your head against the frame; seemingly unaware of Akutagawa's gaze on you. His sharp eyes traced the line of your neck down to your collarbones, pale skin standing out against the black fabric of your tank top and... a chuckled rolled past your lips.

"You're staring"

"No, I'm not." he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes you are" you pressed, smile widening.

"You're so annoying I swear. I wonder how you haven't gotten yourself killed in the Mafia with that attitude of yours"

You simply shrugged in response, shifting closer to him to run a finger down his bare forearm.

"I may be annoying but you still like me and you can't deny that. I mean, you wouldn't let me live with you if you really hated me that much"

Akutagawa flinched under your touch, a soft blush tinting his face when he became aware of the closeness between the two of you. The room seemed smaller, heavy air pressing down on his chest- causing him to inhale sharply.

"I let you live with us because you pay your bills"

"Sure, sure. Keep telling that to yourself."

Somewhere in the distance a siren echoed through the night; a short pause that allowed the man to collect his thoughts. He stepped away from the window and flopped onto the bed, eyes fluttering shut.

"Look, I've had a shitty day too and I'm in no mood for your jokes. So do us both a favour and shut up"

You ignored the last part of his comment and walked in front of him, a smile plastered on your face. He looked so precious like that, limbs spread on your bed like a starfish; but still you could sense the exhaustion and frustration oozing out of him.

Akutagawa only opened his eyes when he felt your hands resting atop his thighs, nails softly grazing the fabric of his pants.

"The hell are you-" he whined, propping himself up on an arm but was quickly cut off by your shushing.

"You said you're stressed, I can make it better" you smiled from between his legs and Akutagawa swore he could feel his erection throbbing.

"I told you not to play around" he hissed again but you only chuckled in response. You tilted your head to the side, slightly rubbing your cheek on his inner thigh; doe eyes searching for some sort of confirmation in his.

Akutagawa's mouth felt dry, words stuck in the back of his throat. And what could he say? How could he even say anything when you were this close, when he could breathe in that sweet, sickening perfume of yours and see his reflection in your eyes? No, there was nothing he could say, so he simply turned his head to the side, focusing his eyes on one of the books on your nightstand.

"Just do your thing"

You hummed a low thank you before slowly sliding your hands up his legs to his belt. He let out a content sigh and lifted his hips off the mattress to allow you to take off his pants; fingers squeezing the sheets into a crumpled mess when you palmed his erection.

"Oh wow you really are in need of a helping hand" you teased, earning a half smile from him.

Akutagawa's hand came to rest on the back of your head, fingers combing through your hair with a gentleness he didn't know he was capable of. He was doing his best to hold it together, not to show how flustered your touch made him when you pulled down his slacks and rubbed your thumb over his sensitive tip.

And truth was that each touch or little sound you made as you took him in your mouth made his composure crumble. If it were anyone other than you he'd push them away- but you? you were too familiar and inviting, a luxury he secretely craved yet never afforded.

Gazing down at your pretty lips wrapped around his length as you bobbed your head up and down, hands neatly squeezing the pale skin of his thighs; he could feel a familiar warmth pooling in his core.

The hand that rested on your head pressed down lightly, forcing his dick down your throat and you choked, earning a chuckle from him.

"Sorry pretty you just feel too good" he groaned, lust clouding his eyes as he kept working your head up and down his length.

Akutagawa felt his high slowly building up, lashes fluttering shut from the pleasure; mindless praise and groans rolling past his lips as you coaxed the orgasm out of him. And when he came he came hard, hips bucking upwards, spilling his cum down your throat. He opened his eyes just in time to see you swallow, tears starting to dry on your flushed cheeks and he felt his heart sink. You looked so pretty like this.

Before he got the chance to say anything you swiftly climbed on top of him on the mattress, caging him between your arms.

"So, feeling better sweetie?" you smiled with sparkles of mischief in your eyes and he couldn't help but smile.

One of his hands traced the outline of your body up to your jaw, thumb gently tapping your bottom lip.

"You know, I do like it better you when you shut up" he added and you parted your lips, allowing him to slip his finger into your mouth. Akutagawa felt himself getting hard again just at the sensation of your tongue rolling around his thumb.

Hooking a finger under the waistband of your shorts he pulled them down, sliding them off your legs before dipping two fingers into your sopping cunt.

"Jesus Christ you're so wet f'me aren't ya? What would Gin say if she knew how desperate you are to fuck me?" he chuckled, mimicking your playful tone but you only hummed in reponse.

His thumb finally left your mouth and moved between your bodies to draw lazy circles on your puffy clit, making you shudder lightly.

As he alligned himself to your entrance you leaned in and pulled him into a passionate kiss, sliding your fingers through his hair; and you sinked low until he bottomed out.

Akutagawa gasped from the tight squeeze of your velvety walls, nails sinking into the plush of your thighs to help ground himself. By the time you actually started rolling your hips against his he was already on cloud nine, all thoughts blurring into a honeyed mess that spilled from his lips in moans and sultry groans. You felt like a sweet heaven, clenching on him more and more with each of his sloppy thrusts.

And that, that was a feeling he could get used to. And if it meant he had to put up with your messy self for it, he would gladly do so.

[milfjuulpod]

hi!! can you do one of melissa x fem reader where reader just started teaching at abbott and melissa develops feelings pretty quickly after they become really close, but doesn’t know reader is dating someone. until reader’s partner starts visiting her at work & melissa gets jealous. little does melissa know that reader likes her back & wants to leave her partner cause they’re kinda shitty to her or whatever you think works best!! and with melissa & reader eventually getting together:)

i’m terrible at explaining skdjfhd but i hope it’s good enough!!! i love your work btw!!!<3

She’s Not You

summary: see req

content/warnings: heavy cursing, hinting at emotional abuse, fluff in the end tho duh

a/n: hello :p thank you for sending a req and for the kind words 🥺 i could cry. i hope you like this, i am not too happy with it so maybe i’ll revisit this prompt but for now, here u are! much love 🫶

Abbott Elementary quickly became your safe haven. After landing a job as a third grade teacher, you’ve gone from just another face to part of the family. Particularly, with Melissa Schemmenti. Your job opening was actually because of Melissa. Her meshed second and third grade classes proved to be too much for even Melissa and an aid, and somehow the driven teacher found money through the district to hire you.

Both you and Melissa felt indebted to each other, her basically giving you the job, and you saving her from the worst year of teaching yet. At least, that’s what the two of you kept telling yourselves. I’m just returning the favor.

That’s why Melissa offered to show you how to cook, why you invited her over to show her some cult classic movies, why the two of you became…close, to say the least. Even though the two of you shared some intimate moments, you never shared many intimate details. It wasn’t until your partner of three years started coming to your work that you realized you had never shared that part of your life with Melissa.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Melissa more about your life, you wanted to badly. But, you were afraid. The relationship between you and your partner was less than, in your eyes. Of course at the beginning it was all roses and smiles and kisses and whispers, but slowly the facade dropped, and you slowly began to meet the person you had dedicated way too much of your personal life to.

You knew the only reason Heather, your girlfriend, was coming by to work was because she didn’t have enough control. She noticed how much happier you were, how you were thriving. And since it wasn’t coming from Heather herself, she needed that to change.

The first time she came by, it was unannounced. You sat in the break room, in your usual spot a little too close to Melissa, the two of you working on a crossword together. Your thoughts of the clues were interrupted by a familiar voice that made your blood run cold. “Hey baby, happy to see me?” Heather announced herself to the room. You blinked a few times to ensure you weren’t dreaming, missing Melissa throw Heather the nastiest glare she could.

“Oh my god, what are you doing here?” You asked Heather with a small smile, although you were secretly worried about her true intentions. She decided to make herself comfortable and pull up a chair next to you. Everyone else in the break room simply stared, worried for the girl who was unknowingly digging a deeper and deeper hole with the Italian teacher sitting a foot away from her.

“I missed you, wanted to bring you lunch. You didn’t eat breakfast this morning, or grab the coffee I made you. I woke up early for that, y’know,” she said to you, plopping the bag of food in front of you. To an outsider, it might’ve seemed like light teasing between a comfortable couple. But you knew that tone. The tone that meant she was going to bring this up later, start a fight, and then make it up to you before you could change your mind about finally leaving.

You muttered a quiet “thanks,” and took the food in your hand. “Why don’t I show you my classroom?” Before Heather could respond, you were out of your seat and guiding the two of you to the door.

“Who was that?” Barbara asked the room, although she gave pointed eyes to Melissa, knowing the two of you had grown close rather quickly. Melissa on the other hand, was angrily staring at the crossword in front of her. How dare this stranger come and interrupt the time she treasured with you, taking you away and-

Then she remembered the pet name, the mention of breakfast and coffee, and the dots connected. You had a girlfriend. A girlfriend Melissa knew absolutely nothing about. She didn’t even know you liked women. Sure, she had her suspicions, after all you weren’t very subtle about it. But you never opened up to Melissa about it, the loving of women or the girl you had already loved, and that made Melissa’s heart shatter more than she felt she could physically handle.

The redhead abruptly stood up from her seat and started gathering her things. She could not be around others right now, not in this emotional state. Melissa knew she had a crush on you, she just didn’t think it was this bad. To the point of making the usual hard-shelled woman fall to pieces at the sight of you with somebody else. In her haste exit, Melissa missed the many friends she had calling out to her, she couldn’t hear anything other than the thousands of thoughts in her head.

“Fuck,” Melissa muttered to herself, leaning against the wall in the hallway. She covered her face in her hands, hoping it would stop the tears from leaving her green eyes. She did her best to quickly pull herself together before anyone saw, and made the walk back to her classroom. Of course, she had to pass your room to get to her own. The sight of your classroom door made Melissa’s stomach turn. Usually it was because of butterflies, and now dread. She felt sick.

As she got closer, she could hear voices coming from inside. Melissa stood still for a moment, debating whether or not she truly wanted to know what was being said in there. Against her brain telling her to do otherwise, Melissa creeped towards your door, trying her best to listen for conversation.

“I make you coffee and you don’t drink it, I bring you lunch and you don’t eat it, what the fuck is your problem? Do you have no appreciation for those around you? Are you that fucked up?” The voice from earlier could be heard through the door. Melissa was shocked, angry, jealous, all rolled up into one storm. Which would explain why she swung open your door before she could tell herself no.

“Who are you? We’re having a conversation.” Heather spat at Melissa immediately. Before answering, Melissa glanced towards you. She had never seen you in such a fragile state. Sitting in your desk chair, in the dark, with so much fear in your eyes somebody might think your life was being threatened. “It’s a need to know basis kid, and you don’t need to know. Could I steal my friend for a minute?” Melissa asked, even though she was already taking your hand in hers and walking out the door with you.

She didn’t stop once she left your classroom either, not until she made it to the steps outside of the building. Melissa looked into your eyes for something, anything at this point. But you just sighed and looked away. “Please don’t yell at me, Mel,” you said quietly. You were ready for your friend to tear you apart for hiding your girlfriend and for letting her speak to you that way. “Yell at you? Honey…” Melissa said. She pulled you back close to her and wrapped her arms tightly around your body.

Quietly, you cried into her. You couldn’t help it, Melissa made you feel safe, and that wasn’t a luxury you could frequently afford. “She just…” You started, trying to explain everything to the woman who was trying to take care of you. “I can’t do it anymore Melissa. I’m sorry I never told you about her, or the fact I like women. It’s not that I didn’t want to, please don’t think that I just–” You stopped, lifting your head from Melissa’s shoulder to finally meet her gaze again. “I didn’t want you to see how small she makes me feel. I know I shouldn’t be with her, I just don’t know anything else. Not unless I’m with you but, I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore,” you finally finished with a heavy sigh.

Melissa took a moment to respond, gently rubbing your back and taking a second to absorb everything you had just told her and everything she heard. “I know its easier said than done, but you and I both know you deserve better than that crazy ass bitch back in that classroom,” She gestured with her head to the door. You noticed the venom in her voice as she referred to your girlfriend once again, and if her eyes weren't the most beautiful shade of green, they would be red with anger. “I don’t know Mel…” you trailed off.

She scoffed, tightening her grip around your waist, and you tried your best to ignore the warmth growing in your chest. “Well I know. I know you should be with somebody who actually cares about you, who notices all the stupid cute habits you do all day and loves them, you deserve somebody who will give you that,” Melissa said honestly, more honest than she would have liked to be. You couldn't help the smile that formed on your face, touched by the woman’s words. “Maybe I’ll find them one day,” You said, starting to walk back inside with Melissa. “But I don’t think I’ll find anybody who loves me quite like you do Mel.” Melissa’s heart jumped at that. “I don’t think you will either, sweetheart.”

———

The weeks following that first incident were strange to say the least. The air between you and Melissa became tense, like both of you had something to say but just couldn’t. Or rather, wouldn’t. The few times Heather popped by again, Melissa would always leave without a word. No goodbye to you or the others, and you quickly learned that for whatever reason, she had a hard time coming back to life after seeing Heather. You blamed it on her protective nature, simple explanation.

It wasn't until Heather had actually stopped coming around that Melissa spoke of the girlfriend without being prompted. The two of you sat alone in her classroom, grading papers before the weekend. “So, are things going any better with…y’know? Haven't seen her around much,” Melissa said without looking up from her papers. “Actually, she moved out. Last weekend. I was going to tell you I just, needed time, I guess,” You answered, looking up at Melissa, trying to read her mind through her eyes.

At first, they lit up, before Melissa could pull herself back together. “Well its about time you kicked her sorry ass to the curb. Nobody treats cuore mia like that,” She said, watching in real time how you melted at her words. “I- What?” you giggled out of confusion. Melissa returned to her gaze to her papers and quietly said, “my heart.” Your cheeks grew hot and you found your breath quickening, both at Melissa calling you such a sweet name, and the Italian she spoke it in. It was this moment that the puzzle pieces started fitting together in your head. Why Melissa was so angry and upset with Heather, and why you always preferred Melissa’s company anyways. The two of you were practically in love.

“If you want to call me pet names, at least do it in English so I know what you’re saying,” You lied to her. You couldn’t have her speaking in Italian to you, but not because it bothered you. In fact it had quite the opposite effect. “What, you don’t like when I speak Italian? Besides, you’ll learn soon enough dolcezza mia,” Melissa cooed, leaning over the edge of her desk to get closer to your face. If you could, you would kiss her right then and there.

So you did. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you cupped Melissa’s cheek and pulled her lips onto yours. Both of you were surprised at the sudden move, but neither pulled away. It was gentle, Melissa stroked the back of your head as she pulled you into her as well. She ran her fingers through your hair and used her position to lightly pull you away from her. “I’m sorry.” You both said at the same time before giggling like children. “Why are you sorry?” Melissa asked. “For kissing you, without asking. Why are you sorry?” You simultaneously answered and questioned her. “For kissing you back, I don’t want to take advantage of you,” Melissa said quietly, suddenly deflating.

You took her hand in yours, gently rubbing her knuckles with your thumb. “Melissa, you’re a very intelligent woman, but you’re acting like an idiot,” You laughed as Melissa furrowed her brows at you. “I kissed you, Mel. I wanted to kiss you I want to kiss you all the time, I didn’t realize until after you started helping me with…you know who,” Both of you grimaced at the mention of your ex. “Everything she should’ve been making me feel, is how you make me feel every day. And I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that,” You told Melissa truthfully. The grip on your hand tightened as she took in your words. “God, come here you,” Melissa said as she smiled, and tugged on your hand for another kiss.

[lihhelsing]

Final Part - Catfish Steddie

You can also read it on Ao3!

When Steve walks into his apartment after a long shift at the coffee shop, it takes him almost a full five minutes to notice there’s someone else in there with him. 

He’s been so tired lately he probably wouldn’t have noticed if the person, a petite strawberry blonde, hadn’t cleared her throat while looking at him. 

“Uh. Hello?” 

Had he walked into the wrong apartment? He couldn’t remember using his key but he’s pretty sure he did. 

“Hi,” the girl smiles as she places a Vogue Magazine on the coffee table. Steve looks around and he knows this coffee table. He knows this apartament. He’s definitely in the right place. 

Still doesn’t explain the girl. 

“Who are you?” 

She laughs as if he’s being funny but once she understands he’s serious, her smile falters a little. 

“Chrissy. I’m Robin’s -“

“Girlfriend. Yeah. She’s not here.” 

Chrissy nods. “I know. I’m here for you.” 

Either she’s going to murder him or try to convince him to forgive Robin and Steve’s not sure which one is worse right now. 

“Then you wasted your time. You can go now. Or stay, I don’t care.” 

Chrissy clicks her tongue. “Robin did a shitty thing.” 

“Yeah. You don’t say.” 

“She’s not a bad person, though.” 

Steve shrugs. “It doesn’t matter, does it? She still hurt people.” 

She hurt me is what Steve means. He doesn’t say it out loud but he has the feeling Chrissy sees right through him. 

“I was so mad when she told me. It was such a fucked up thing to do.” 

Steve nods, doesn’t see the point in expanding this conversation. 

“Look,” Chrissy says eventually. “She’s not a bad person, she just… sometimes she gets obsessed with things and she doesn’t know when it’s too much. This was too much. It was crazy and hurtful. I thought about… breaking up. But I know her and I know this was just a mistake.” 

Steve doesn’t know why Chrissy is saying all those things to him. He shrugs. Maybe if he doesn’t engage she will leave him alone. 

“I know it’s not good enough. But she’s really sorry.”

“Yeah.”

“She would love a chance to try and fix things.” 

Steve shakes his head. “No thanks. I asked her to leave me alone.” 

"Robin's not the best at boundaries if you haven't noticed," Chrissy says and it honestly annoys the hell out of Steve. He's pretty aware of his roommate's problems. He had been looking for another place to live ever since his talk with Robin but it seems luck isn't on his side, at least not with the budget he has right now. 

"Oh, I noticed it alright," Steve replies dryly but that also doesn't seem to faze Chrissy. "Like I said, the best she can do right now is leave me alone and not send her girlfriend to, what? Guilt trip me into forgiving her? Not happening."

Chrissy seems a little ashamed at that, but Steve doesn't care. He doesn't! The people pleaser inside of him is definitely not cringing at himself right now. 

"Listen. She did send me here, but all she wants is another chance at fixing things. She knows she fucked up bad but like I said, Robin's not a bad person. She was pretty nervous when you two first talked about this and she thinks she can explain herself better. I know it sounds like bullshit but I told her I would try to convince you to go talk to her and if you said no, we both would respect your decision."

Steve is about to say no. He wants to say no. He wants Robin to suffer for messing with his life and Eddie's and for fucking up something that could've been so good. But Eddie's not really answering his calls right now, Steve is about to flunk one of his classes because he's been so stressed about the whole thing. He's been stressing about getting a new place too, and finding a roommate that's not a total psycho and also someone who won't potentially try to sell his organs on the internet. He definitely needs a place that he can afford and for a second he considers it. 

And then, he has an idea. 

"Ok, I'll go."

Chrissy's whole face lightens up. She must really care about Robin to react like that just by Steve agreeing to go talk to her. He's not going to forgive her, just hear her out one more time because honestly? It can't get worse than it already is. 

"Really?"

"Yeah. But I have one condition."

"Of course, anything," Chrissy says, nodding enthusiastically. 

"I'll go and I'll hear her out. If she's just bullshitting me again, I get the apartment."

Chrissy frowns at him. "The apartment?"

"Yeah. I don't intend on keeping living with her but it's hard to find a place half decent that I can afford. And I can afford this and it's a pretty good place. So she'll keep paying her half until I find someone new to share. Then she'll be gone from my life."

Steve crosses his arms. Either way, he's going to win. He's going to get what he wants, no matter what, even if that's still not Eddie. Steve's been making peace with the fact that he's not going to get Eddie, after all. 

Chrissy nods even though she doesn't seem sure. 

"Shouldn't you check with Robin about this? I can wait."

She bites her lower lip but shakes her head. "No, it's fine. It's a deal."

Steve doesn't know exactly what to think but maybe Chrissy and Robin should work on their communication. 

x

Chrissy waits as Steve gets ready. He honestly didn't feel like changing but she said he should take a shower and relax just a bit, so he wouldn't be all defensive when it was time to talk to Robin. 

Steve sighs but he ends up agreeing because a nice, hot shower sounds good. His shift was proper hell today and he was looking forward to relaxing a bit, maybe watching something or even calling Dustin to catch up. 

When he's ready, Chrissy announces she will be driving them and Steve shrugs but accepts  anyway. He expects her to take him to her place or something so when she stops at a weird-looking parking lot Steve thinks maybe Chrissy is the one about to sell his organs on the internet. 

"Go on," she nudges him softly and Steve raises an eyebrow. "C'mon, it's not that bad."

"I should've known looking for roommates on Craigslist would have consequences," he says as a joke. Mostly. 

Chrissy chuckles. "It's not that bad."

It is that bad and she knows it. From what Steve can gather they are outside a dive bar in all its glory. Steve is not opposed to dive bars in general, but this was definitely not how he expected his Friday night to go. 

"Fine, I'm going, but just so you know my parents will come for you if something happens to me." 

"Robin says you don't talk to your parents," Chrissy grins at Steve and he shrugs.

"It was worth a shot," and then he's out of the car and into the quiet cold night. 

The bar isn't as bad as Steve imagined, even if it's called Hellfire. Not a very inviting name but then again, it's absolutely packed and Steve is kind of shocked. There are old-looking guys who Steve would bet have come to this same bar every day for the last twenty years and then some twenty-somethings grouped everywhere, with cheap-ass beers in their hands and loud voices. 

What surprises Steve the most is how both groups seem to get along pretty well, as long as they stay on their side of the bar. 

Steve takes a look around trying to see Robin's mess of mousy-brown hair but she's nowhere to be found. For a second he thinks maybe Chrissy tricked him for some reason but when his eyes inspect the place once again he finds what he was looking for. 

And it's not Robin. 

Eddie is sitting in a booth in the far corner of the bar, with no one around him. Steve might not be the brightest person on earth but in that same second, he understands Eddie is there to meet him, for some reason. 

He clenches his hands closed and walks toward him, trying not to think too hard about seeing Eddie again, otherwise he feels like he'd puke. 

"Hey," Steve says as soon as he's close enough and Eddie rips his eyes from his bottle to look at Steve. There are too many feelings there for Steve to figure out so he nods to the empty seat in front of him. "Mind if I join you?"

Eddie shakes his head and Steve thinks he looks adorable. 

"Interesting choice of place," Steve says to try and make things less awkward. 

Eddie laughs and the sound is delicious and Steve feels like he's winning, somehow. 

"I work here," Eddie admits, but he has a secret smile on his lips as if he knows exactly why Steve said what he said. As if they are connected in a way Steve had never felt with anyone else. 

As if a minute had passed since the last time they talked and not weeks. 

"Good to know," Steve says and he thinks he's flirting even though he should be apologizing but Eddie doesn't seem mad that he's flirting because he's flirting back. Or so Steve hopes he is. 

"Robin said it was a safe choice," Eddie says and Steve can feel her name souring his mood a little. "Sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned her."

Maybe Steve needs to get this over with. 

"It's ok. I just really needed to say I'm sorry again. I hate that you got caught up in something so awful and fucked up and I'm sorry I didn't try harder to explain myself and-"

"Stop."

Steve does because he's been rejected by Eddie once and he's afraid he's getting rejected again. He thinks - no, he knows - he wouldn't survive it. 

"Robin might've ambushed me at work and forced me to listen to her explanations and her weird apology."

Steve clicks his tongue. He rests one of his hands on top of the table and feels the pull towards Eddie. If this was any other date he would reach out and grab his hand but he's not even sure this is a date. 

"I'm sorry for that too. Chrissy told me she has a hard time understanding boundaries."

Eddie shrugs as if it doesn't matter. "Yeah, well. That was clear from the start."

At that, they both laugh and it feels so right it hurts. Steve had accepted the fact that he wouldn't get this, not with Eddie, and now. 

Now he might. 

"I'm really sorry, Eddie," Steve's not looking at him when he says it but then he feels a warm, calloused hand on his and he looks up. Eddie is smiling softly at him as if they were all alone in the whole world. 

"You don't need to apologize. Robin explained everything and she said you had nothing to do with it. I'm sorry my insecurities got the best of me. I should've let you explain yourself. I should've believed you."

Eddie's hand feels good around his and Steve moves until their fingers are intertwined. Eddie has a couple of tattoos on his fingers which contrast with Steve's blank ones in a way that feels absolutely right. 

"I'm still sorry. I hate that you got caught up in this," Steve answers easily. 

"Me too," Eddie says. His thumb starts drawing circles on Steve's hand. "But in a fucked up way it brought me to you, here. So maybe I don't hate it all that much."

Steve smiles. He doesn't hate it either. 

x

Talking to Eddie is as easy as the first day and Steve feels amazed by it. 

They keep their hands securely clasped together as they sip their beers and talk about everything. Steve tells Eddie about his talk with Robin right after he left and how angry and upset he was. Eddie tells him about his talk with Robin and how… Numb he felt. 

He explains he spent so much time thinking he had Steve all figured out that it was really hard for him to see he didn't. To see Steve was telling the truth and to see Steve, for some weird reason, really wanted Eddie. 

Steve feels his cheeks burning hot at that and his skin tingles in the places it meets Eddie's. 

After an hour they drift off to other subjects as if this is nothing more than a typical Friday night date for them. As if they are just picking up right where they left off. 

It's almost 3 in the morning when a shorter guy with curly hair approaches their table and announces it's the last round - and it's on the house. 

"Thanks, Gareth," Eddie says but he doesn't make eye contact with the guy. And the guy actually looks like he's glaring at Steve. 

Steve furrows his brows and Eddie squeezes his hand softly.

"It's complicated, he's just like, overprotective. I'll tell you all about it later."

Later. 

It gives Steve hope. 

x

Later looks like the empty alley behind the bar at almost 4 am. 

Not for any Gareth stuff, but for… Other stuff. 

Steve lets Eddie push him up against the wall and kiss him like the world is ending. 

Steve kisses him right back as if they could fix the world with it. 

Eddie feels warm and soft pressed against him and Steve can't contain the small sounds leaving his mouth. Eddie swallows every single one of them, hands finding their way underneath Steve's polo shirt.

Skin touching skin as Eddie's fingers explore him, squeezing and moving around, drawing circles that drive Steve crazy because he wants more. He wants more and more. Eddie lets his fingers brush on Steve's nipple and he can't help but moan, even if they are still in public. 

"Come home with me," Steve pleads, face buried in Eddie's neck as he drowns in his scent. Eddie smells warm and sweet and so good Steve wants to stay there forever. "Please, baby. Come home with me."

Eddie nods against his skin as his mouth nips at whatever he can find and Steve thinks he can come undone right here if Eddie keeps that up. He doesn't want to stop but he does it anyway because he also wants to take his time. 

He and Eddie never rushed into anything and they are not rushing into this. Eddie smiles that gorgeous smile of his and Steve feels like he could die right now and he would still be the happiest guy on earth. 

"Lead the way," Eddie whispers and Steve does, pulling him away from the wall before it's too late and he loses all his strength. He keeps their hands wrapped up together because he knows that's how it's supposed to be. 

He brings Eddie home again, and that tonight they take their time with each other. They talk and laugh and kiss and smile. They take pieces of clothing off and they spread their fingers everywhere. They touch and squeeze and scratch. 

They take each other apart knowing they won't ever be apart again. It's a silent promise in between kisses and laughter. It's a spoken promise when they are all sweaty and tangled up in each other, hands still clasped together, with no space in between their bodies. 

Eddie kisses him again and again and again and Steve feels like he's floating. 

Steve kisses him again and again and again and he hopes he gets to do it forever. 

x

They wake up to a buzzing sound that tells Steve someone is there but when he opens the door there's only this big breakfast basket. He doesn't need to open the note to know it comes from Robin (and Chrissy, he finds out later). 

There are all kinds of foods and a fancy sparkling wine that Eddie immediately opens and pours a glass saying you can only fight a hangover drinking more and Steve wants to drop everything and lock Eddie in his room with just the wine. 

There's also a key Steve recognizes as their front door key. He hums as he looks at it and Eddie pushes the wine in his hand as he grabs a piece of bread from the basket. 

"Are you going to forgive her, you think?"

His question isn't loaded with anything other than curiosity. Steve gets the feeling Eddie wouldn't judge him either way and still, he doesn't know the answer. He shrugs and feels Eddie hugging him from behind. 

"That's ok. There's no right answer here," Eddie says, placing kisses on his shoulder and neck as if he's chasing every single one of Steve's moles. Maybe he is. 

"I don't really know what to do," Steve admits it out loud. Eddie's hand feels so solid around his waist and he feels grounded for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever. 

"Her professor is getting his license revoked," Eddie says and Steve feels a strange satisfaction at that. "She's getting suspended and is probably going to lose the whole semester."

Steve doesn't know if it's too much or not enough. There are too many feelings inside his chest right now. 

"I'm just saying. It's not only up to you to punish her. And you should, you know. Punish her. However you want. Just don't punish yourself in the process, ok?"

Steve's not sure what this means but he knows he's going to figure it out. Robin already gave up the apartment and she's getting held back in school, and Eddie is here and maybe Steve believes nothing else matters right now. 

"You're too smart for your own good," Steve says as he turns in Eddie's arms and finds his mouth so he can kiss him again. 

He tastes like sparks flying and Steve kisses him like he could love him. 

Eddie kisses him back as if he already loves him. 

For now, it feels like enough. 

Previous | Read it on Ao3 and leave kudos!

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 5 - Is this a date?!

Summary: Kirishima has no idea what’s going on. Y/N takes the matter in her own hands and forces his himbo to ask her on a date. The date ends with a quite a lot of uhm… surprises.

Warnings: Swear words + Y/N wants to kiss Kirishima constantly. 😂

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Okay, so… Kirishima is really fucking confused. He’s so confused he even decided not to get a coffee today because he genuinely can’t look into Y/N’s eyes without dropping dead on the floor.

He’s met a lot of uhm… touchy people during his short little life, one of them being him to be honest, but…. None of his friends have kissed him on the mouth before. Okay, that’s a lie, Tetsutetsu did but he was absolutely wasted and for some weird reason he thought he’s his girlfriend. He also almost kissed Katsuki out of pure worry once. Nevermind.

Also, his heart didn’t erupt like a fucking lava inside his chest when Tetsutetsu kissed him, but obviously, Kirishima is a big boy, he knows why is his heart having a hard time with doing normal things like beating in a regular pattern and he’s absolutely not ashamed of his ridiculous crush on the barista next door but like… why did she kiss him? And what’s up with that promise? You can’t just promise that to someone, you can’t just throw your life away to live in an unhappy marriage for the rest of your life just to prove your point, can you?

Maybe the kiss was an accident. Technically, it barely touched his mouth. Yeah. It can still be a friendly gesture if he thinks about it that way even though that doesn’t explain the marriage thing but…

“She kissed you because she fucking likes you, what the fuck, Eijirou?!” Katsuki yells into Kirishima’s face out of the blue.

“She doesn’t hate me and maybe she feels pity for me for having an obvious crush on her. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, sir.”

Katsuki is clearly about to have a meltdown but he braces himself for the sake of his friend.

“She likes me too and yet here I am, untouched. She gives out free coffee to the people she likes, not fucking kisses and promises to marry them.”

Katsuki has a point. But…

“Do not fucking ‘but’ me, you absolute moron. Get the fuck out of the building, your shift is fucking over and all you did was writing your girlfriends first name and your last name all over the official paperwork so honestly, I don’t fucking want to see you here anymore.”

“I’m so sorry, Katsuki…”

“No.”

“I mean it… I’ll stay and fix this, I’m really sorry…”

“Get the fuck out, Eijirou!”

Kirishima has been thrown out of his own office by a sparking hand. What a shameful day. He leaves the building with his head held low, moping towards the nearest train station because Kirishima was so fucking all over the place this morning that he forgot he owns a motorbike. He also got fined on the train because he forgot to buy a ticket. What a shitty day.

“You forgot something this morning?” The sound of an angel comes from the coffee shop he’s walking past by. Kirishima looks up and he feels like he just flew to fucking heaven. It’s his favorite barista in cool, edgy clothing, a lollipop hanging from her mouth. She looks at Kirishima with a beautiful, offended gaze which doesn’t make any sense because he’s quite sure he didn’t hurt any puppies today or like… ever.

“Hi.” Well done, Kirishima. The awkward smile and the even more awkward head rubbing is definitely the way to every woman’s heart. “Are you finished for today?”

“Are you asking me on a date, himbo?”

Kirishima’s face becomes the color of his hair.

“Oh, I would never… I mean I would, hundred percent, oh my god, but… like I didn’t…” Kirishima can’t form any more stupid words as Y/N shoves her lollipop into his mouth to shut him up.

The lollipop that was in her mouth a second ago.

That’s an indirect kiss. Hell, that’s an indirect make out session.

This is how Kirishima dies. Or maybe, he already died and this is just his brain showing him all the good things he missed by fucking dying at the humble age of 26. Or is it 27? Hm, maybe 25. He forgot. He’s definitely less than 30. That’s all he knows.

“So where are you taking me, hubby?” Y/N nonchalantly hangs to Kirishima’s arm like it’s no biggie while Kirishima has a meltdown inside. What’s happening right now?! What is this shenanigan?! This must be one of Y/N’s pranks. Yeah. That’s okay. He can live with that. He can just pretend he’s not about to have a heart attack from Y/N’s closeness and play the hubby, whatever that means. Is it like “buddy” but in homosexual? But Kirishima is straight. Well, mostly. He’s the kinda guy who certainly can love anything and everything, he believes that love is love and the gender doesn’t matter, but he only had crushes on women. Because women are really manly and Y/N is the manliest of them all.

“Wanna grab something to eat in the arcade?”

That’s a good place, right? They can play games, have something to eat, enjoy a few drinks… it’s also a place where people go with their friends but they also go there for a date so…

Not like he actually believes this is a date. Nuh-uh. He’s gullible but not that much. Y/N is just teasing again.

… right?

~•🪨•~

You did it. You asked Red Riot out on a date! Okay, well, that’s a lie, you kinda forced him to take YOU out on a date but that doesn’t matter because now you are standing in front of the coolest arcade in the area with your favorite himbo. You also walked through half of the city with your arm entwined with his and it felt fucking great.

“Let’s get something to eat.” You pull the man inside, following the lovely scent of popcorn. “Can I have a big ass tray of French fries with ketchup and mayo and bowl of mozzarella sticks? Uh, and can I have a box of pocky? Also, that cheesecake looks lovely, can I have a slice with two forks, please? Uh, and a strawberry milkshake with two straws!”

“Are you hungry, Y/N?” Kirishima giggles next to you and asks for a small popcorn. Oh, that fucking giggle will be the death of you, how can such a massive, bulky man be so adorable?!

“Are you not?” You look at the small box of popcorn in his hand but he only smiles at that. “Not really!”

Kirishima and the bartender exchanges a knowing look and while you definitely don’t like that you let them do whatever they want because the only thing you can focus on is the massive tray of food right in front you.

~•🪨•~

… okay, maybe… you bought too much. Technically, you could stuff some more food into yourself without feeling sick but you need to have some space for the desert.

“I can finish this for you if you don’t want it!” Kirishima gives you a gleaming smile and takes a fry from your tray. Damn, those teeth.

“So… are your teeth… uhm… when you kiss someone, do you tend to cut them by accident!”

Kirishima chokes on his fry. It’s hilarious.

“Khm…” He coughs a few times before he manages to answer. “I had a few accidents when I was younger but I think I’m doing okay now.”

“Can you show me?”

“Y/N!”

Ahh, it’s so much fun to tease him, goddamnit. It was worth waking up today.

“Haha, joking… for now.”

Red Riot finishes your fries with his face red as your uncle’s hair. Amazing.

Now it’s time for your second attack.

“Why don’t you try the shake? It’s really good!” You take a sip from your own straw for great measure, lips playing with the end of it. You push the second straw over to face him, your eyes full of challenge.

Red Riot understands your cheeky intentions, and by that, you mean he gets even more red if that’s possible. Apparently, it is. He leans in close, takes the second straw, your foreheads almost touching as he takes a skip, his eyes never leaving yours. Now it’s your time to get red like your hair.

“It’s really nice. Sweet.” Kirishima mutters, barely moving away from his straw; his strawberry scented breath fanning your face. Oh how much you want to kiss him right now. Oh, fuck, this was a terrible idea. His eyes are so fucking beautiful, the prettiest shade of crimson with a hint of pinkish undertone to them. How dare he be born with those eyes?!

“Yeah. Really sweet. And handsome.” You mumble out loud; you tear yourself away from the situation, your face boiling hot as you look anywhere but him.

“That’s an interesting way to describe a beverage but… it’s okay.”

“I wasn’t talking about the shake, you himbo.”

Oh boy. You can cut the tension with a fucking knife right now. Is this the time when you just ask him to bring you over to his place to…

Do not finish that sentence, Y/N. Do not. This is your first fucking date. It’s not appropriate.

“Uhm… thank you? You are also handsome… I mean… pretty. You perfume is really nice. Is it new?”

“Yeah, I got it a few days ago. It’s for… special occasions.”

“Is this… a special occasion?” He stutters and you are quite sure you could cook an egg on his face right now.

“Yeah… a really special one.” You mutter under your nose before you shake your head to clear your thoughts. It doesn’t help. “Wanna play the pocky game?” You literally shriek into his face. Honestly, you can’t be more obvious than this, can you?

… well, apparently you can. By the confused look on his pretty little face he has no idea why you want to play that game. He’s such a himbo and thank god he is because there is no way in heaven this is appropriate.

“Let’s see how far can you go. The winner gets a second date.”

“Oh! Okay!” The stupid himbo perks up, not even realizing that it doesn’t matter who wins because even if he looses he still gets a second date.

Is it too soon to say that you genuinely love this guy? Probably. Not like you ever cared about what’s acceptable and what not.

You take a pocky out of the pocket and put the end into your mouth.

Kirishima stares at a pocky for a second then it seems like an idea just popped into his head because he STARTS SHREDDING THE FUCKING POCKY with his shark teeth, looking like a bunny in the middle of a raging meltdown, pieces of biscuits flying all over as he shreds and shreds and shreds, and honestly, you are not sure your face won’t be eaten by the end of it, and you don’t mean that in a good way. Obviously, you can’t help but move away, genuinely terrified by the sound his teeth make as they collide with the poor edible stick and he takes is as a win, clearly over the moon as he stares at you with his stupid puppy eyes, his teeth full on display.

“Red, No!” You reprimand and Red makes a sad puppy face. Why is he so cute?!

“I’ll show you, okay?” You put a new pocky inside his mouth and start eating the candy stick slowly, smiling at him cheekily as you get closer and closer to the middle. “Now do the same.”

And he does. He’s so close. He’s so flushed. There is barely any pocky left so you turn your head to face sideways, letting him come closer to take the last bit of the pocky; your lips touch for a second, the minuscule touch electrifying your whole body and when Eijirou freezes and doesn’t move further, you close the remaining distance…

“Excuse me, uhm… sorry to interrupt, I’m glad your date is going well, but you are making the customers uncomfortable.”

You both jump away from each other. Also, he doesn’t look sorry at all. The guy looks fucking smug.

“We are really sorry, sir.” Eijirou gets all flushed right away, eyes staring at the concrete like a child caught eating his boogers.

You decide to not say a thing because all you can think about is death threats and being kicked out of the arcade would definitely ruin the date.

He quickly eats your leftovers in shame then you two go into the arcade to play some games, finally free from the judging looks of those lonely bozos in the food court. You were so close to kiss him. So fucking close! Goddamnit!

Red Riot tries his best to win you all the stuffed animals possible. You already have a bag worth of random stuff and he just… can’t stop.

He makes his way to one that has different rings and necklaces inside and they look quite high quality as well. It costs more coins for a round but Eijirou is set on winning some because “giving jewelry to a lady is really manly” so you let him do his thing. You don’t appreciate being ignored for the sake of it, but what can you do. Clearly, Eijirou likes a good challenge.

“I can do this.” Suddenly, Eijirou turns over to give you a bone crushing hug. “I will get you the prettiest ring. I promise.

He’s really struggling with this one. Also, you are quite sure he spent your weekly wage already.

“Ei, it’s fine. Let’s play something else.”

“No.”

For your surprise, when he turns over to fucking snarl at you, half of his face is hardened. He doesn’t look okay.

“Hey, what if I try?” You mumble, going all shy from his aggressive behavior. No, not because you are scared. It’s more like … uhm… he’s kinda hot? Okay, he’s a little bit creepy but at the same time… it’s really sweet how he goes all hot and bothered just because he wants to give you something valuable. You really do appreciate the passion even though you would definitely prefer it in another way, like for instance with his tongue down your throat or… something.

Fuck, you really want to kiss him, it’s actually getting pathetic at this point. “Or I can give you a motivating kiss? Would that help?”

Yup. You are absolutely pathetic.

Eijirou’s face softens at that. He touches his own skin, probably just realizing how worked up he was just a second ago, a tiny blush decorating his pretty face, probably from the embarrassment.

“You saw me loosing my mind over a stupid claw machine and you still want to kiss me?” He mutters and damn, how hard it is to not go for his lips right away.

“I think it was really passionate. Really manly. I like it.” You move towards him to leave a kiss on his cheek. “Get me the prettiest ring you can, Red Riot.” You mumble to his cheeks, slowly moving towards his lips to tease him. You pull away right before your lips are about to graze his and honestly, it probably hurts you more than it hurts him.

“On it.” He breaths out, downright panting.

The he wins.

He fucking wins.

“Oh my god, you actually did it!” You jump around happily as Eijirou crouches down to get his prize. You crouch down next to him to take a good look, but Ei turn away from you and opens the box without letting you see the ring. “Hey!”

“Wait, I want to give it to you properly!” He mutters, then turns towards you, still crouching. “Y/N! I really-really like you.”

Your heart makes a somersault inside your chest. He’s stating the obvious, but somehow it still makes you feel all tingly-tangly; you guess this is how it feels like when someone you actually like confesses to you. Damn, these heart palpitations are not a joke.

“I… I really like you too, Eijirou.” You admit sheepishly. For some reason, he doesn’t look to affected by your words which stings a bit but oh well.

“I promise you I’ll… I’ll get better. Stronger. I’ll learn how to love myself. This ring…” he finally pulls out the ring from behind his back and takes your hand in his. Then it’s silence. He takes a deep breath to calm down.

Oh my god.

Oh my fucking god.

You are all about the YOLO, but this a bit… too much?! Too soon?!

Okay, who are you kidding, you literally can’t say no this man. You literally knew this man will be the end game since day 1. You don’t need to date him for several years to know that he’s… special.

“With this ring, I promise you that I’ll become the best version of myself and then… I’ll marry you. Because you deserve the best and nothing less, Y/N. So… I know it’s a lot to ask but… will you wait for me?”

Eijirou puts the ring on your ring finger. It’s a beautiful silver ring with a crimson colored gem in the middle. It’s actually gorgeous.

Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry.

Your favorite hero just proposed to you with a ring from a claw machine. With a ring he technically spent half of your rent money on right in front of your eyes. With a ring he worked so hard for that even his quirk acted up from it.

“Okay.” A few stray tears escape from your eyes so you quickly rub them away. “I’ll… I’ll marry you, you himbo. I promise. Don’t make me wait for too long though, yeah?”

“Why are you crying? Was that too much? I was an absolute idiot, wasn’t I? That’s so selfish of me, I’m sorry…”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up!” You let yourself fall into his arms, your own arms snaking around his neck to pull him closer, toppling the both of you over. You two end up lying on the floor, hugging like two idiots and you only hope that no one will come over to this corner in the next few seconds because you are quite sure you’ll be kicked out for inappropriate behavior if they do. “Wanna come to mine?”

Eijirou’s face is as red as his hair and it’s hilarious. “To your… flat?!”

“Yeah. To my flat. I have some wine we can share. We can watch a movie… I have some old school Crimson Riot stuff somewhere in a box, we could… go through it together?”

“You have Crimson Riot stuff in your flat?!”

Well, apparently coming to your flat was only cheeky until Crimson Riot wasn’t involved. He’s such a fucking geek.

“Duh. Where do you think that old ass poster was coming from? Santa?”

“Y/N… this is the best day of my life!”

“Well, I’m glad that all I needed to do was to mention Crimson Riot for you to actually appreciate our date.” You roll your eyes offendedly as you finally stand up from the dirty floor.

“No, it was the best day anyway but now it’s the best best day! Double best day! Triple! Quadruple! I don’t know what comes after that I’m afraid, I’m quite dumb.”

You can’t help but laugh at that.

“You are such a himbo, I swear to god.” You reach out for him to help him up. “Come on now, hubby. Let’s continue our date at mine.”

“Yes, sir.”

~•🪨•~

“Well, this is my flat. Well, technically it’s my uncle’s. He’s uhm… loaded.” You mutter under your nose as you put the key into the lock.

Then you change your mind and pull it out.

One last chance for that cheeky kiss. One last fucking chance. You can do this. “Before we go in, I want to… uhm… thank you for today. I had so much fun and thank you… for your promise. I also want to give you something, it’s definitely not a big deal or anything but…” You slowly turn around to face the big red man. Haha. The big red man. Like the big red dog. That’s funny.

…

Anyway.

You slowly stand on your tiptoes, trying your best to reach Eijirou’s lips. You make sure to give him enough time to be able to move away if he’s not comfortable, but by the glassines of his eyes as he stares at your lips, you have no reason to worry. He looks like he’s not even on this planet, his breath is ragged and he doesn’t blink at all, like he’s trying to remember every single second of this. His eyes close when you are too close for him to actually be able to see anything, and you are just about to kiss him senseless, when your door randomly opens. Aggressively. Eijirou jumps up so high he almost bumps his head into the ceiling.

“Did you forget how to open your own door, you silly sausage? … oh. Oh!” Crimson Riot stares at your companion with a shit eating grin of his face.

… oh fuck.

… next chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

TL: @porusuniverse @sixxze @unofficialmuilover @cheesenmax @readingfan @sammmm29 @pwinglez1 @happydragonfrog @magicalhandsherringclam @lovingnightharmony @theequeenofcurses @kirishima-eijirock @nerinefy @selfindulgenthoe @fierysplash213 @woofwoofwolf @touyasprettydoll @confused-smol-fan @themultifandomgirl @dark-witch-bitch

[faketrex]

Slowly but surely approaching the end of this caper... but first, Alex and Henry need to kick off their best friends tour.

To be continued.

...

SHARING A SLICE... part 5

RWRB, rated T, 750 words (this part).

(click here for part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

...

“Alex.”

Blearily, Alex blinks up at the ceiling.

“It's time to wake up.”

The voice is familiar but weird, like listening to a recording of himself. Alex rubs a hand across his eyes and looks over toward the sound of a floorboard creaking. That explains it: his own voice always sounds strange outside his head.

“Go away, Evil Alex,” Alex mumbles. “I'm tired.”

“What?”

“Why no eye patch, Evil Alex? You always have an eye patch.” It doesn't matter. Alex closes his eyes. Since he's still dreaming, he can get some more sleep.

“Get up, we've got brunch reservations and you should shower first. Unless of course you have a fetish for bees? That certainly wasn't on your Wikipedia page.”

“I – bees?”

“Cake contains sugar, Alex. Are you always so obtuse in the morning?”

Cake. Alex snaps awake. He sits up, but Henry-as-Alex has already disappeared through the doorway. “I thought you were my evil dream twin!”

“Your phone won't stop vibrating,” Henry calls back. “Does the name ‘Bug’ sound familiar?”

Fuck. Alex needs to text June – calling would be better if she's blowing up his phone, but June would see through Henry's shitty subterfuge in a second – and then he needs to – “Did you say brunch?”

“We're leaving in thirty minutes.”

Alex showers and brushes his teeth in record time. It's not easy getting clean while trying to ignore, like, all of his borrowed body – Henry's body – but he manages, mostly. Surprisingly, Henry's pretty fit. Alex had assumed all those beach photos were airbrushed.

Back in the living room, he finds Henry wrapped in a robe on the loveseat, scrolling on his phone.

“Why aren't you dressed?”

Henry looks up. “For the same reason you're wearing a towel, I assume. Going through your suitcase would have felt rude.”

“I'll dig out an outfit for you if you get one for me, just try not to – what the fuck did you do to my hair?”

“Nothing.”

“You must have done something, it never looks like that.”

“I didn't–”

“Did y'all ever have guillotines in the U.K.?”

“Charming suggestion, Alex, don't hold yourself back on my behalf.”

Alex keeps his commentary to himself while he's standing six inches away from Henry, trying to fix his hair from an unfamiliar angle, and even while they’re getting dressed – except for some entirely valid criticism of Henry's boring ties – but it's all fair game once they're seated across from each other, pretending to enjoy one another's company.

“You look exhausted,” Alex begins.

“Why, thank you, your royal highness. I didn't sleep much last night.”

“Maybe I should have warned you, I have insomnia.” Alex waits while the server sets down his coffee and a pot of tea for Henry. “I don't know if insomnia is a brain thing or a body thing, though. Hey, does this coffee taste weird? How often do people try to poison you?”

Henry takes a sip from Alex's cup. “It tastes fine. As a world-class insomniac myself, we may never know the answer to that particular question, but it seems we've already determined that taste is a matter of body, not brain.”

“What? How?”

“I don't like coffee.” Henry blinks at him slowly, obviously, like he's waiting for Alex to pick up on a secret code. “Usually.”

“Oh.” They swap drinks. “Anyway, I didn't know royals ate brunch,” Alex continues once he's sipping his Earl Grey and – as if things weren't bad enough – actually enjoying it.

“Alas, man cannot live on ribbon cuttings alone,” Henry quips, so deadpan that Alex nearly snorts. “Brunch was easier to arrange than any other morning appearance, given the spontaneity of today’s... excursion. Shaan is still organizing our afternoon engagements.”

“He's getting everything cleared, right?”

“Of course.” Henry smiles at the server as they arrive with their food. There's no hesitance to it, not like the smiles Alex has seen him wear in photos. At least Henry’s not a dick to service industry workers.

“In normal circumstances, there wouldn't be any public royal appearances the day after a royal wedding.”

“Yeah?” So they're breaking rules by trying to fix everything. Good to know.

Henry nods. “In an effort to avoid stealing attention from the all-important pomp and circumstance, you understand.”

“Well... seems like that ship has already sailed.”

“Boy howdy,” Henry drawls, sipping his coffee. “I do believe you might say we’ve dulled their sparkle.”

Alex can’t help it this time: he laughs. When Henry grins back, Alex isn't even thinking about the cameras.

...

(Part 6)

[juminies]

Don't know if you've ever talked on this subject or not, but what's your interpretation on Jumin's relationship with Jaehee after her good ending? Really love how mindfully you explain Jumin's feelings and actions, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter! Especially bc her route kinda leaves many people feeling like he's an antagonist of sorts 😬 But I kinda always felt like he'd respect her a lot, especially once he sees how much passion she puts into her dream? And Jaehee shows her genuine care for Jumin, too, moreso after his infamous crash. I'm kinda babbling here, but yeah! Really curious to read up on your interpretation <3

I haven't talked about this before actually—I think there's a lotttt of nuance to it and I didn't want to be haphazard with it in case it comes across as me being over lenient with corporate heirs or whatever hahah. I promise I'm not! I just love Jumin. Also sorry this took me a while to answer, I had actually just started a game the day you sent it with the intention of doing Jaehee's route so I decided I would play before responding to ensure it was fresh in my mind. I hadn't played her route in so long, and I wanted to get the Jumin outgoing calls too!

To get into how I think he would treat her after some time passes I first want to discuss their dynamic in her route a bit, because I honestly think people are unnecessarily harsh on him because of it sometimes. I personally don't feel as if they pushed him too far into an antagonistic role, but perhaps since Cheritz weren't bringing in an outsider (à la Echo Girl or Sarah Choi) to act as the driving force it seemed that way to some people? It was inevitable given the nature of Jaehee's struggles that Jumin would be viewed as the bad guy in a sense, but I feel like it's often sort of blown out of proportion due to a misunderstanding of both Jumin's intentions and his character as a whole. He is admittedly at his worst in Jaehee's route, but people tend to brush his actions during it off as completely out of line and absurd and then go on to use it to totally mischaracterise him as someone who doesn't value his employees whatsoever or is an abusive boss. In reality though, the way he acts as a superior in general as well as given the specific circumstances is very... Jumin? in that it's logical and efficient and goal-driven. Jaehee's route is such a push and pull in the sense that the two of them clash repeatedly in a scenario where neither person is willing to compromise—for what, to each of them personally, is good reason! Jaehee is a victim of a wider system, of capitalism itself, less so than of Jumin as an individual.

On one hand, Jaehee having to give up a project she was finally actually enjoying working on would be incredibly frustrating, even without having something she actively dislikes stacked on top of it. I get why she went against Jumin's wishes of doing a bad job (why would she choose now of all times to put in half of her effort when it's something she's actually having fun with?) and I get why she used Seven's cat hotel proposal. Life can be messy like that. Sometimes you have to make a decision that has a shitty outcome for someone else for your own sake or vice versa. She should be doing something that makes her happy, and had she not gotten the encouragement to find something she loves she would have continued to feel unfulfilled for god knows how long. Plus, in regard to the coffee report she is still technically doing her job and doing it well, even if going against her boss' personal wishes in doing so. She also does use her own time to revise it in the end so Jumin can have his way (and maybe a little bit so she can use her ideas for her own place) so, to me, that says she understands where he's coming from and doesn't particularly resent him. It's a complex situation for sure, and objectively Jumin does have the upper hand even if he doesn't quite realise the extent of it. I absolutely support Jaehee in her endeavours; I love her so much and she absolutely deserves better than eternal C&R bullshit.

At the same time, Jumin's perspective does make sense if you try to understand his worldview a bit more. Jaehee is the only person at C&R he feels he can genuinely rely on, and when he's already been thrown through a loop with his father prior to her disobedience it's entirely logical that he would feel as if everyone who should be working with him is suddenly against him. Jumin has been shown before to not quite have a grasp on the social standing he holds over Jaehee, for example in this chat from deep story day 2 where he doesn't understand why she can't tell him, as he told her, that she doesn't like seeing him in chatrooms.

And I think it's genuine obliviousness as opposed to purposeful ignorance; he overlooks bigger structures at play because he legitimately values hearing the honest opinions of the people around him and expects them to have a mutual respect for him. As far as Jumin is concerned his employees should be able to come to him with honest feedback, but of course that typically isn't the case and so Jaehee can't express how she really feels to him lest she face consequences. Jumin's thought process when it comes to employment is shown to be, to put it simply, people work for money -> more work is more money -> more work is good, and it hasn't been explained to him why this isn't the case for a lot of people. Jaehee's actions register to Jumin as is simply a betrayal of his trust and respect, because he doesn't quite see the level at which he and Jaehee are on unequal footing in the first place. On top of that he is rigid in that he needs everything to be done as he expects it; he does not like sudden change and (as demonstrated in his own route) can be incredibly rattled by it if he is already otherwise stressed or overworked. Just because he stands strong for his friends does not mean he is entirely invulnerable to being overwhelmed and acting out, and while I completely agree he was on some level being selfish in regards to the cat project, at the point where Jaehee quits she has already left him with what (to Jumin) is a mess to handle essentially on his own. He is overworked too, something Jaehee admits herself, and he wanted to transfer the coffee project to another department both to make less work for the two of them and in order to not succumb to his father's lack of consideration for anyone or anything but his current partner.

Again I do not blame Jaehee for anything she did whatsoever—I think it was a good idea for her to quit and she absolutely deserves the happiness she finds in MC and their café!—but Jaehee is incredibly competent and Jumin knows that. Consequently he knows she has big boots to fill and it can't be done on a whim. I'm sure you can see why he would be incredibly frustrated. As a whole it's just a very messy situation where the two of them can't really fathom the other's perspective. Their lives and outlooks on the world are so intrinsically different at this turning point in Jaehee's life, and that's fine. Neither of them have bad intentions towards the other whatsoever.

Now to actually answer your question! Firstly I want to put out there that he says this on days nine and ten respectively:

Then I want to add that I do not think Jumin is the type to hold a grudge. He is shown frequently to take on a sort of each to their own/whatever will be will be attitude, and though this situation is something that impacts him directly I can't imagine him taking it any more personally in the long term than he would anything else. Sure he's a little hostile in her AE, but to be completely honest with you I do not think he would have gone to visit the café at all if he was completely furious and had lost all respect for Jaehee (and/or MC) after her endeavours. Again he knows that Jaehee is highly capable, hardworking, and generally a very good person, and I can't imagine that one rocky dilemma between the two of them is something that would make him bad tempered around her forever. He still clearly held her highly and has a lot of respect for her despite their differences, and she doesn't seem to have any ill will towards him either. Ultimately, as you say, he would grow to respect her passion and would hear her out on why she took the course of action she did in the end. While Jumin may not be great at putting himself in others shoes he can identify patterns well, and it lets him draw parallels between his own experiences and other people's. Once he finds the common ground (he knows how fulfilling passion projects can be, he knows how frustrating it can be to work yourself to the bone for others' sake without any real incentive, and he values real friendship an awful amount) I think he would accept it.

I actually feel like hypothetically in the long term not working together would be good for their relationship in terms of RFA too—Jaehee was only made part of the group originally because of Jumin and it meant that all of their interactions even amongst their mutual friends were that of a work relationship. We know they both dislike being in chatrooms together and dislike hearing each other talk outside of work, which was bound to have put a strain (even if very minor) on their association with RFA as an organisation. Jaehee even says herself it's like an extension of C&R for her! Dropping the working boundary between them means less tiptoeing around each other and more openness among friends, especially for Jaehee.

As for Yoosung becoming Jumin's intern/assistant, I don't think it would carry the same tone into RFA as it did with Jaehee since they are already well associated without the business relationship prior to Yoosung being hired. Sure things might be a little weird at times, but no discomfort or frustration to the same extent. It's already shown to be kind of unserious and silly, and I honestly don't think Yoosung would last long as Jumin's assistant anyway, lol.

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

Will there be a pt. 2 to “Watch My Heart Burn” I’m living for the angst 🥺

WATCH MY HEART BURN PT 2. ( Wednesday x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Yes there will be! <3 pairing: Tyler Galpin x Fem! Reader, Wednesday Addams x Tyler Galpin prompt: based on ‘Watch’ by Billie Eilish key: h/c = hair color, e/c = eye color, f/n = father’s name, b/n = brother’s name, Kent & Divina = Bianca’s Siren buddies word count : 800+ words

When you call my name, do you think I'll come runnin'?

The sadness had melted away quickly, leaving only an icy bitterness. Her brother’s words ringing in her head, ‘Tyler’s just another dick normie’. He was right, Tyler was one. He wasn’t a friend after all. He was just another dick normie who liked to fuck with ‘freaks’ like her. 

Blinking away her thoughts, she tightens her grip on Divina’s arm, trying not to show too much of her discomfort. Even though she wanted to avoid Tyler like he was the plague, she couldn’t. It was a small town⎯with one coffee shop, and quite frankly, she needed coffee to function. 

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Divina asks, a unsure look on her face.

“Yeah, if he’s there then it’s a shame. But, I’m pretty sure that Xavier is working there today.” She argues, “Maybe, I’ll get Xavier at the cash register. Maybe, I won’t have to deal with him.”  

“Let’s hope. But, seriously. If it’s too soon or too much, don’t force yourself. I’m not gonna make you stick around.” Divina reminds, making her hum.

“I can’t avoid him forever⎯unfortunately⎯But, I need to prove that a normie like him has no control over me.” Y/n explains, “I’m going. I’m going to order my coffee. And I’m going to give him the cold shoulder. Plain and simple.” 

Walking inside the cafe, the smell of fresh coffee fills her senses, along with the light tang of chocolate croissants that lingered in the air. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she keeps her head up high, her eyes locked on the menu. Today was a new day. She now knew his true colors. 

So, why did she have to be the bigger person? Why couldn’t she be a little petty? A little bitter? Walking up to the counter, Divina nudges her side, a warning look on her face. One that says, ‘Please, don’t say or do anything mean. We don’t want him ruining our drinks.’ 

“Hey, Y/n! How you’ve been⎯” He asks, flashing her a big smile.

“I’ll have a coffee, two sugars and one pump of vanilla creamer.” She cuts in coldly, “I’ll have it in a to-go cup, name is Y/n. Thanks.” 

“I⎯um⎯Okay? I⎯ah⎯I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” He asks, stuttering.

“How much will that be?” She asks, ignoring him.

“Three dollars, but seriously what’s up? Did I do something wrong or..?” 

Yes, there was something wrong. But, clearly it wasn’t ‘important’ enough to stick in his mind. Fishing out a five dollar bill out of her pocket, she drops the bill on the counter, refusing to get even an inch closer to him than she already was. Letting go of Divina’s arm, she whispers about ‘seeing her at the table’, turning her nose up. She breaks eye contact with him. Her eyes darted to the free table at the entrance of the cafe. 

“Keep the change.” She grunts over her shoulder. 

You never did the same..

Letting out a small snort at his shitty joke, she flips a strand of hair over her shoulder, her cheeks flushing a bright red. Even though she wasn’t as well acquainted with Kent as she was with Divina. She’d admit that she was really enjoying his company. 

Feeling eyes drill into the side of her head, she shifts her eyes from Kent to the busying cafe, seeing Xavier staring at her. She sends him a friendly small wave and smile, earning one back from him. Turning her eyes back to Kent, there's a slight flush to his cheeks from how hard he had been laughing. 

“So what are you going to do this winter?” He questions, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Oh, B/n and I are going with Dad to our grandparents. Mom should be back a few days before Christmas, along with our Aunts and Uncles.” She explains, making him hum. 

“That’s cool! We’re traveling upstream to visit Mom’s salt water relatives.” He explains, “Are you at least excited for your grandparents?” 

“Yeah, I just can’t wait to hear, ‘F/n, how’s the wife doing? Oh, she’s in Romania? Guess, you’re stuck babysitting?’. So much fun.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes. 

“Could be worse! Divina and I have to deal with, ‘Oh, you really let your scales get that bad?’ and ‘Well that’s a choice?’. It’s the worst I tell you!” He rants, “Don’t get me started on the looks that they send our ways.”

Cringing at the sound of his family reunion, she knew that her family reunions were horrid, but that just sounded a thousand times worse! Her family were seers and that was dreadful enough. They’d rant and critique their choices, saying how it ‘changed their fate for the worst’. But a house full of Siren’s? No thanks. 

Offering him an apologetic smile, he waves off her smile with a shake of his head. Opening her mouth to speak, she’s cut off by Tyler approaching their table, a stern look on his face. Nope. Nope. Nope. She was not going to deal with this. She wasn’t about to let him try to make up an excuse for his behavior. 

“Can we talk?” He asks, making her scoff.

“No.” She grunts out, bluntly.

“Great⎯Wait what?” He asks, a shocked look on his face.

“I said, no. I have nothing to say to you.” She argues, “So please leave us alone. We’re having a private conversation.” 

Opening his mouth to argue, she raises a hand, glaring daggers at him. She was not about to deal with this. She made the mistake of being friends with him. But, now she has learned a lesson. He was not to be trusted. Looking over at Kent, he’s glaring daggers at Tyler, relief fills her at the sight. She’d thought he’d think she was too much. Or taking things too far. But, it was nice to know that he was on her side in this situation. It was refreshing.

“But⎯” He tries, but she cuts him off. 

“We’re not friends. This is incredibly inappropriate.” She argues, “Now, like I said. Can you please leave me alone?” 

“Y/n..” 

“No, you hurt me Tyler and I’m not going to listen to any excuses. I’m moving on and I don’t see you⎯nor do I want you in my life anymore. So, like I said, leave me alone.” She argues, her voice icy and stern.

So good at givin' me nothin'..

[devskindawritingblog]

TaiVan movie date pleeeeease

Taivan movie date

Click to help Palestine 🇵🇸 🍉

AN: okay back with another fic. I’ll try to post fics more often but as June is approaching I’m getting busier 😅. But I’ll try my best to finish all the requests at some point. Taivan again I love writing for them so much. I used they/them pronouns for Van because I felt like it. I usually use them if that’s not something you want maybe mention it to me. Also! If anyone wants to be in a tag list comment on the fic letting me know or dm me. I’ll make an official post so it reaches more people.

word count rounded: 1.7k

Taissa and Van stand in front of the stove, a packet of popcorn slowly expanding as the loud popping sound fills the kitchen. It was their weekly date night, and Van got to choose this week, and of course they chose a movie night, not to anyone's surprise. No movie night would be complete without some snacks, so they both walked to the corner store and got some candy. 

“Sooooo, what do you want to watch?” Taissa asks as she takes the popcorn off the stove, opens it up, and pours it into a bowl. Van leans over Tai’s shoulder and grabs a handful of popcorn, then shoves it in their mouth. 

“Hey!” Tai exclaims with a giggle. “Save some for the movie, silly.” She swats at Van's hand as they go to reach for another handful. Van pulls back, pouting dramatically, and Taissa smiles and pulls them into a kiss. “Come on, you thief, let's go watch the movie.” Taissa says, dragging Van over to the couch. She places the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and grabs a throw blanket, wrapping it around both of them. Tai wraps her arm around Van’s shoulder, pulling them close. Van reaches forward, grabbing the bowl.

Taissa grabs a packet of M&M’s and opens them up. Van looks over at Taissa, confused, as Tai reaches for the popcorn. “What are you doing?”

“Putting chocolate in the popcorn? You don't do that?” Taissa asks, turning towards them. Van scoffs almost offended that Tai would even suggest a food crime of such. “Okay, fine, no m&m’s in the popcorn.”. Tai sighs, pouring a handful and plopping them into her mouth. Van places the popcorn bowl in between the two of them, chocolate-free. 

Van gets up off the couch and goes over to her shelf of VHS tapes. Van won’t admit it, but they are a bit of a movie freak, having gathered a big collection of movies that they are very proud of. They pull out a new tape from their collection, The Craft. Van went to their favourite spot, the local video shop. They had ridden their bike over to the shop yesterday to find a new movie for a change. The image on the front of the tape initially pulled them in, and the shop owner played it up: “If you like witches." They turn around and walk back over to Taissa, showing her their pick for the night. “Ta Da!” 

“The Craft?” Taissa asks questioningly. "Yeah, I don’t know. It seems fun, right? Why not give it a try? Neve Campbell is in it. You know? from Scream."     Van asks, sitting down next to Tai. “Right, right. She's good; what's it about?” Tai says, nodding, and she knows Van is going to over explain it even though they haven't watched it. 

“Okay! So the worker explained it to me. It's like these four high school girls, and one of them is new, and you know the whole new girl, new school thing. She has a crush on some football dude. And she becomes friends with these three outcast girls, and they are like witches or something like that. She didn’t want to spoil it too much for me.” Van says it breathlessly as they finish their summary way too fast. Tai smiles and laughs a bit. “Is that all?” Taissa teases, smirking, as Van rolls their eyes. “You asked what it was about. I gave you what you wanted.” Van shoots back. “What more do you want, babe? It's about witches, ooooooh!!!” Van exclaims, wiggling their fingers and mimicking the sound of a very shitty ghost, and laughs as Taissa rolls her eyes playfully.

“You're such a nerd.” Taissa says as she playfully nudges Van. They scoff playfully and scoot into Tai’s lap. “Yeah, but you like that about me.” They say this as they lean forward and capture Tai’s lips with theirs, kissing her deeply. Taissa hums into the kiss, pulling Van further into her lap so they are straddling her waist. Taissa's hands find their way to Van’s hips as they deepen the kiss, their hand placed at the base of Tai’s neck. They make out on the couch as Taissa changes it up, pushing Van over so she is laying on top of them. They both pull away and smile. 

“We can kiss more later; let's start watching!!” Van exclaims, jumping off the couch and setting up the movie in the player. The movie starts, and they snuggle back into their position next to Taissa. She opens her arms, and Van cuddles next to her. They tangle their legs together, and Van rests their heads on Tai’s shoulder. Van reaches for Taissa’s hand, and they interlock their fingers. The movie begins, and they settle into a comfortable silence.

“Damm, that’s a lot of candles. Does she really need that much for witchcraft?” Van asks, pointing to the TV and furrowing their brow. “I don’t know, babe. I'm not a witch now, am I?” Taissa responds, looking back at Van. “Hmmm, you could be. You’re enchanting and beautiful, and I'm sure you’ve put a spell on me, baby.” Van responds back with a grin. Taissa rolls her eyes, but Van can tell that she finds it funny. “You're unbelievable.” Taissa responds gently, pushing Van's cheek, trying not to smile as Van gasps dramatically. It ends up not working. “What’s going on? I feel the urge to come over here and kiss you. Oh no!! I'm under your spell.” Van jokes, unable to hold back their giggles as they crawl back over to Tai. She doesn’t try to hide the smile as she lets Van pull them into a kiss again. 

They move away from Tai’s lips and down to her neck. Taissa sighs as they put their hands on Van's hips and feel their lips travel down to her collarbone. Van pulls away, smiles, and gives her a kiss on the nose before cuddling back into her side. “You’re such a dork, you know that?” She smiles while playing with Van's hair. "Course, I do, but I didn't see you trying to get away from all of that.” Van smirks, raising their eyebrows, before cuddling back into Tai and continuing watching the movie. 

“Doesn’t that dude remind you of Randy?” Van asks, pointing to the screen. “Who? Don't  know French dude? Yeah, kinda; I see it. Real dumb and hangs out with a guy who isn't much smarter.” Taissa jokes and giggles along with Van as they break down laughing. “Oh my gosh, Tai!!!” They giggle. “What!? You were thinking about it too.” Taissa shoots back, laughing, before turning her attention to Van. They sigh and laugh. "Yeah, I just don’t say it out loud.”. Tai rolls her eyes playfully, but she goes back to watching the movie. 

Taissa reaches over to grab the m&m’s and finish them off. Van  holds their hand out. Taissa glances over and pours out a little handful . They grab one of the chocolates and toss it up, tilting their heads back, hoping to catch it. Instead, it misses them and hits them on the forehead. They laugh and blush as they scramble to grab it before it slips into the crack of the couch. “Real smooth, babe." Taissa teases, giggling, as Van eats the m&m normally. “Shut up”. They say the blush deepens a little as Taissa leans over to kiss them on the cheek.

But Van is quite stubborn, and after a few minutes, they go back to trying to catch it. They try quite a few times, and finally they actually do. Their eyes light up, and they laugh. ”Fuck yeah!" Did you see that, babe?”. Van yells, laughing, as they try again, but their luck runs out and it lands on the carpet. Taissa shakes her head, smiling at her girlfriend's excitement and then annoyance. “Let me try." Taissa says she is reaching out to take one. She tosses it up, brings her head back, and catches it on the first try.

“No fucking way!” Van yells, their face a mix of shock and playful anger. Taissa looks back down at Van, smirking. Taissa laughs, unable to hold back as Van’s shocked look still hasn't left their face. “You really are a witch." Van says as they also break down into giggles. Van flops over into Tai’s lap as they both slowly die down, laughing. They both sigh, and Van settles their heads into Taissa’s lap. Tai reaches down, running her fingers through Van’s long hair. She softly scratches their scalp as the movie comes to an end.

Taissa stops when she realises she hasn't heard Van make a joke or a nerdy little comment in over 10 minutes. She leans over and finds Van’s eyes shut, their body relaxed as they softly snore. Taissa smiles and traces her finger along their freckles. Taissa leans down again to give them a kiss on their nose and again on their shoulder. Van blinks and shifts slightly, waking back up from their little nap. They slowly stir awake, shifting a little as Tai gives them another kiss on the cheek as she feels Van’s smile widen.

“Sorry”. They mumble sleepily. Taissa smiles while playing with Van’s hair again. “Don't worry, baby; cuddling with you was better than the movie anyway." We could always watch it again for another movie  night." Tai says softly as she goes back to running her fingers through Van’s hair, loosely braiding it, and then running her fingers back through it to take it out. Van smiles up at Tai, and she can see the blush spreading across their face as they sit up to kiss Tai on the lips. They shift around, so Taissa is laying on the couch with Van cuddled into her chest, trying to fight the sleep.

“You sleepy?” Taissa asks, giving Van a soft kiss on their forehead. Van shakes their head but they can barely open their eyes. Tai smiles and pulls Van closer, rubbing their back and giving them another kiss. “Just go to sleep, baby, sweet dreams." She whispers as Van’s eyes slowly flutter shut and they relax their head on her chest. Taissa gives Van one final goodnight kiss and falls asleep shortly after. The perfect end to a date night

[barbiewritesstuff]

The Playboy And The Coffees

-- I know I need to upload part 3 of the Hotch series but I’m still writing it so here’s something else :) Playboy Hotch lives in my mind rent free.

Before I start… do y’all know how long I had to search to find Hotch’s handwriting??? Outrageous. Also yes, I know graphology is heavily critiques, but this is fanfic, let me pretend. 

Thank you to @lgg5989 :) and @ravensmadreads :) for beta reading and inspo!!!!

TW. Mentions of sex, violence and concussions and that’s it I think, Ope, no, also TW. for super out of character Hotch :) –

You don’t know much about your neighbour. You know his last name, because it’s on the post box. You know he has a monthly subscription to psychology today, and you know he sees his sons on weekends. And you know that because A. Hotchner, as his letterbox says, has a revolving door of women on all other days of the week.

And it’s starting to piss you off.

No, scratch that. You have just gone through a week and a half of gruelling shifts at the hospital. You have been scratched, bitten, attacked with a bedpan and called every bad name under the sun, and now the fucker next door, whom you share a bedroom wall with, is having sex loud enough that you could probably recognise the woman by voice alone. 

You are beyond furious. 

Furious enough, in fact, to march down to his flat and hit and kick his door until he opens it. He stands there shirtless, having hastily put on his underwear and with an angry frown on his face that disappears as soon as he sees you. You know you look like you’ve been through hell, and in your mind, you might as well have. Your hair is dishevelled, your scrubs are torn and one of your sleeves is hanging off limply, three large scratches red and swollen showing in the bit of uncovered skin. You look like you’ve walked away from a bear attack and you can see the thought cross his mind.

He opens his mouth to say something but you launch into a tirade before he can. You whisper-shout it, because you’re a decent person and you don’t want to wake anyone up, “It’s three am. I have come back from a twenty-four hour shift thinking I’d be able to have a good night of sleep, only to find out my dick of a neighbour is having a woman over -- and I’m not even going to call it having sex with her, because with the noise she’s making, I don’t know if she’s having fun -- do you realise I can hear everything? Every stupid thing you say? How you’re going to ruin her? How you’re going to make sure she can never walk again? How you love how dumb she gets for your dick? Buddy, no dick has that power, she’s just stupid. Which is why she’s sleeping with you. Either you keep quiet or I swear I am calling the police to report a fucking murder. And you best hope it’s not yours.”

Feeling slightly better, as though unleashing on your shitty neighbour has relieved you from the pressures of the day, you turn on your heels and walk to your own door, slamming the door as quietly as possible. Seconds later, you hear his door click shut and then their activities resume, punctuated every so often by him shushing her and telling her to be quiet. You draw yourself a bath, bubbles and all, and begin a cycle on the washing machine, ready to unwind before bed. It works a little too well and you wake up an hour later, shrivelled like a prune, with just enough energy to make it onto your bed before you crash again.

At seven, there’s a knock on your door and you go to open it, feeling frustrated. A. Hotchner stands in front of you, a little boy holding his right hand, his left one occupied by a coffee. 

“To apologise,” he says, extending the coffee towards you.

“Can I pet your cat?” the little boy says, “I know you have one. He’s black and white and he meows funny.”

You smile at the boy, “I do have a cat, but maybe you can pet him another day. I came home from work not that long ago and I’m very tired,” you explain to the child, before turning to your neighbour, “Usually when someone comes home at three in the morning, they don’t take well to being woken up at seven” you say, you grab the coffee and turn away, closing the door as quickly as you could, hoping that the wind slapped him in the face, something you really wish you could have done yourself. 

Inside, you take one curious sip of the coffee and immediately annoy yourself further. It’s good coffee. Probably from that upscale place in town that charges nearly ten dollars a small cup because their organic coffee is ground on site, which, you want to tell your sister whenever she gushes about their seven dollar espressos, you’re pretty sure all coffee places do. 

A. Hotchner also somehow managed to get the order just right, and even though it doesn’t take a genius to figure out you like caramel lattes since your recycling box is made up largely of your starbucks cups, you wonder how he managed to get that right and still forget that there were only four hours between three am and seven am. 

Luckily, you manage to sleep through the rest of the morning and wake up in better spirits than before. You have the rest of the very good coffee, which still manages to taste okay after being microwaved, forgotten and then microwaved again and set about studying for your postgrad exam. You resurface again just in time for dinner, like a bear coming out of hibernation, your mind so used to focussing that it’s hard doing normal things. 

The next day, the first Sunday you spend at home in about four weeks, is spent pretty much the same way, save for a good night of quiet sleep and no morning time interruption. Then, much to your dismay, Monday arrives and with it, a day shift.

The day is quiet and goes by fast. You haven’t been hurt, so this is one of the best days you’ve had in the past month and you’re in a very good mood, so good, in fact that when A. Hotchner, whose first name you still don’t know, starts his weeknight ritual of keeping you awake with his revolving door of women, you’re only a little annoyed. 

Then, at ten, right when you are about to go to bed, your phone rings with a work emergency. The girl he has over next door is screaming so hard that your colleague on the other side of the line asks if you’re okay, and then, embarrassingly, if you are safe and you have to explain that yes, you’re fine. You just live in a cheap apartment where the walls are made of cardboard, which sends you back into a near homicidal rage. You agree to come in, but only for a couple of hours, until the nurse that was supposed to come in can be located. Once you get there, a couple of hours turns into eight, and by the time you’re out you have an hour before your shift starts. You have to go home to feed your cat but petty as you are, and wanting to make someone pay, you buy a cup of cheap mcdonalds coffee and stick a post-it to it, depositing it at your neighbours door.

Vinnie, your cat, is happy to see you. Or as happy as a cat can be, meaning that he follows you around but acts offended whenever you try to pet him. Eventually, you abandon the search for affection and drop some kibble into his bowl before promptly leaving again. The cup is still on his doormat, so you turn the cup so the message (“She was faking it”) will immediately be visible when he opens the door and knock loudly. You disappear down the stairs before he can catch you, trying to psych yourself up for what you feel will be yet another shitty shift. 

By the time you come home again, the cup is gone, and a new one awaits on your doormat. A message is written on the cardboard band around it but you don’t read it until you’re inside. You open the door to Vinnie, your only friend by now, meowing at you like he’s asking where you’ve been.

“To work,” you reply, “Someone needs to pay for the rent. And the high end kitty kibble you demand, you freeloader.”

He meows at you again. It’s short and deep, and makes him sound like a 1940s mafia man, which is why you’ve called him Vinnie and why he gets dressed in a little suit and tie with a fake cigar for every Halloween since the day you adopted him. Or he adopted you, because you were only at the shelter to accompany your sister, and Vinnie, the spry young kitten, climbed your leg like a tree and took shelter in your coat refusing to be removed. He screamed so loud and for so long that his vocal cords were damaged. 

You think it’s sweet that he wanted to be taken home so badly, but you can’t help but wonder if he’s not regretting it now. Your apartment is shit, you get paid peanuts and you’re barely ever home. Maybe he’s lonely. Adopting another cat isn’t really viable, because you can’t afford the vet bills, or the insurance. Maybe getting A. Hotchner’s (okay, you really need to ask his name) kid to come by isn’t such a bad idea.

Speaking of, you remember your coffee. It’s from the nice place again and you savour it, not willing to stop for a second to read the message, so you twist the band off and read it like that. 

“You’re just jealous.” 

You smirk. As much as he annoys you, you’re happy he’s humouring you. And the fact that he keeps getting you good coffee when you got him a terrible mcdonald’s one isn’t entirely lost on you. Either he’s got money to spare -- he probably hasn’t. He lives in the same, shitty apartment building you do -- or he wants you to have the good coffee. 

You need to study, and try to push the thoughts of A (seriously, you need to ask. There aren’t that many possibilities… Alexander? Anthony? Andrew? Adrian? Aaron? Austin? Adam? You’re not sure, but the rest of the names google suggested when you typed in ‘boy names starting in A’ seems too modern. He really doesn’t look like an Ace… Or does he? No, definitely not. With his brown eyes, black hair and handsome face, he looks more like an Andrew or an Alexander. Andrew Hotchner sounds good too…) out of your mind, but it fails spectacularly. 

That little voice in your head, the one you don’t want to listen to because it likes to remind you of attractive boys and of the fact that you could be married by now, pipes up and reminds you that in your search for the correct A name, you described him as handsome. It also tells you that you’ve been staring at the cardboard band for nearly an hour now, with your search engine open to a tab on graphology -- and you learn that he’s a relatively calm but anchored person with good perception and memory skills (medium pressure on the pen), but also a fast and energetic writer, who is usually assertive and confident (right slant), and is overall a fairly extroverted and outgoing person (large size of the handwriting), who, at the time of writing the message anyway, is in a happy or pleasant mood (upwards tilt) -- you’re also unable to take in anything that’s written in your syllabus because you’re too busy pushing the voice down in your head to a place where you can’t hear it, all the while the rational part of the brain is telling you that maybe it has a point, you do have a crush.

You’ve met him twice, and considered strangling him both times. Is it sad to have a crush?

You don’t hear him come home that night and you sleep like a brick. Then, it’s the same for the night after that, and the night after that. You’re starting to worry, so like any normal person who’s trying to distract herself from a crush, you request an extra shift. It’s not pleasant but it works, and when you come home, A’s shower is going and you feel suspiciously relieved.

You don’t retaliate with the coffee, not wanting to stoke the fires of your crush but he doesn’t let them die. You nearly knock the coffee over as you step out to go to work. 

“Still alive?” the message says (the tilt is down now, which means he’s sad and you wish you’d never even learnt about graphology) and your heart soars. Before you take a sip, you notice something else in smaller print, “Usual place is closed, new place didn’t have caramel. You’re a girl under the age of thirty, I assumed you’d like pumpkin spice lattes.” 

The audacity of this man. You stand in front of your door in shock for a second and a half longer than Vinnie is willing to put up with so he kicks the door closed, kool-aid man style and brings you back to the real world. There’s nothing truly offensive about the message, you’re just annoyed with him as a base emotion and even more so because he’s 100% correct, you love pumpkin spice lattes. They’re actually your favourite and the only reason you don’t have them as often as caramel lattes is because coffee shops are always out. 

You stop by starbucks on your way home to get A the best coffee you can afford, and write him another post-it, “Missed my performance ratings?” you write and in small print, “The cat is called Vinnie, your kid can come by on Saturday. Also What’s your name?”

You drop it off that evening and wait for him to come home. He doesn’t. You sit on your sofa until past midnight, watching tv. They’ve interrupted the broadcast of the game show you were watching to air a press conference, headed by an FBI agent. She’s good, clear, concise and she stresses the importance of staying safe, especially for hospital personnel. If any of them experiences an attack from one of their patients, they need to report it at the number flashing on the screen. 

The group chat you set up with a few of your colleagues is going nuts, crying from laughter emojis are being sent by the dozen and you have to admit it’s amusing. They’re all counting down the injuries they’ve had on the job in the past month, and you have plenty to add. Someone offers to compile them a spreadsheet. 

You fall asleep on the sofa and wake up sore in the morning. He’s still not back by then.

----

“I assume you saw the broadcast?” another nurse asks as you sit down to have your lunch. You nod at her, “Do they think we meander through fields of roses or something?”

“I don’t think it’s a well known part of the job,” you reply between mouthfuls of instant noodles, “People think it’s easy to be a nurse, that doctors do the brunt of the work.”

“I beg to differ,” she says, unpacking her own lunchbox and diving into a muffin like a starved man on a buffet, “I had to stop Dr. Atkinson --”

“Girls, we have a code violet in the ER, all hands on deck,” Dave, the only male nurse you know by name, tells you when he pops his head through the door. 

You groan. Code violet means someone is fighting back, which likely means you’ll be sore in the morning. You’ve been attacked before, and it’s never been that bad, but when you get there, you see why the other nurses are having problems. 

It’s a young man, probably about your age with a backpack and an absolutely deranged look on his face. A bunch of staff are already littering the floor when you get there. He’s throwing punches and anything he can get his hands on at anyone who moves. Dave gets a stack of magazines in the eye and your colleague with the muffin gets slapped across the face so hard that she looks dazed for a moment. You’re the unlucky one though, because the man takes off his backpack and swings it at your head, you collide with it and it feels a little like someone’s thrown you at a wall. 

You collapse and lose consciousness almost immediately. When you come to, with Dave calling your name and holding an ice pack to your head, things have gone quiet again. The fighter has been carted off by police, and the only people left on the scenes are the patients you need to care for and half a dozen FBI agents wearing kevlar, supervising the situation. 

Dave helps you up to a nearby chair, where he instructs you to keep your head between your knees while he goes looking for a bucket. You look green, he says, and yeah, you feel it too. It feels like your entire brain’s been rearranged or scrambled in the worst way possible. Seconds later, someone silently takes the seat next to you and bumps your elbow.

“Apparently coffees aren’t good for concussions,” the person says, you look up, recognising the voice as soon as it leaves A. Hotchner’s mouth. He hands you the cup of tepid water and you take a sip, taking in his appearance. He’s wearing kevlar too, and underneath that a magically uncreased shirt, tie and slacks. All that paired with his gorgeous face, and you’re sure you’re never going to get rid of that crush. 

One of his kevlar wearing friends comes to fetch him.  A stands up, shooting you a wink and a grin as he leaves. Out of habit, you look at the cup for his handwriting. 

“Apparently, it’s not good to be alone when you have a concussion… Dinner at mine?” 

[darling-i-read-it]

Ally

Victor Vale x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.7k 

Warnings: technically kidnapping ig lol 

Author’s Note: i hope you enjoy love <33 i had some fun banter with this one <3 

Requested: by anon, Hi. I saw u had a victor vale fic so will you be willing to write another? Possibly Victor Vale x FemReader. Eli is a killer at this point and is trying to kill the reader but Victor is trying to find her first. He also has a crush on her and tries to get her to come with him but she refuses so he kidnaps her for safety (not yandere just panic). Later he explains why he did so and she's fine with it. She joins the little family and he begins to love her more. Idk about the end Tysm! ily writing!

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You remembered college fondly. You remembered the late nights with a bitter distaste in your mouth. You remembered the way Eli’s eyes looked when he had been studying nonstop for a week. You remembered Victor’s coffee order and test day sweatpants. You remembered the shitty dinners and you remembered the feeling of dying when it was inflicted on you by your friends. You remembered what it felt like to wake up again, like the breath inside you was so new it stung. 

You remembered the look in Victor’s eyes when he told you he had killed Angie. You remembered the last time you saw Eli before he lost whatever emotion he had. If the three of you hadn’t been drowning in the idea of a life between deaths then you wouldn’t have been stuck like you were now. You would have had a normal college experience. You would’ve been able to stay friends with the guys. 

You could’ve lost touch after college but remembered your friendship fondly, just like everyone else. 

Instead you were stuck with this torment. The powers you gained from your death were considered lethal to Eliot Cardale. Now you were stuck with trying to escape him until someone caught him. 

Victor looked across the crowded street. He was sitting down at a small round table by himself, nursing a cold cup of coffee. He recognized the color of your hair even from far away. He hadn’t seen you since the day he had been arrested. You and Eli had scampered your separate ways the second you realized of each other's intentions. Victor couldn’t blame you. 

He blamed Eli enough for the both of you. 

You were gently picking up some fruit from the local vendors. You had on a large pair of Jackie O sunglasses that you seemed to believe was hiding your identity. Victor would recognize the purse of your lips anywhere. He used to adore you in a way that a college boy could. From arms distance so he never messed things up with you. He used to think you would marry Eli one day. He never thought he would be chasing after you quite like this. 

You turned your head his way and he stood up. There was no use trying to hide it now. He stood up swiftly, sticking his hands in his coat pockets. Your eyes searched, as though you were looking for him specifically. Your eyes eventually landed on him as he made his way towards you. The surprise on your face was priceless. Your face eased into a startled expression as you held the fruit to your chest. 

But you didn’t move. You waited until he reached you. You hadn’t seen Victor in years. There were lines on his face you didn’t recognize. His hair had grown and he had a slight look of death about him. Underneath it, he remained the same Victor. You could tell by his eyes. 

“Victor Vale,” you breathed. He smiled slyly, almost a smirk. 

“In the flesh.” 

“The very pale flesh. You look like a ghost Victor.” 

“Did I spook you?”

“Frankly? Yes.” You gently put the fruit down in the basket you had found it. You removed your sunglasses, folding them up and holding them in your hands. “I would say it’s a surprise to run into you but I imagine you were looking for me.” 

“Don’t let it go to your head.” 

“What do you want Victor?” Now that he could see your eyes, unshaded by the sunglasses, he was struck with a heartstring he had long forgotten. A feeling tingled in his fingers. Schoolboy crush. 

“Eli is looking for you,” he stated simply. 

“I’m evading him quite well I think.” 

“Not well enough. I found you.” 

“Well I’ve never hidden from you Victor.” You smiled gently and gestured to the sidewalk. He followed you as you began to stroll. He kept a step behind you, allowing you to lead the way. “You still haven’t explained what you’re here for.”

“You need to come with me.” 

“I’m alright, thank you.”

“Eli will find you and when he does, he’ll kill you.” It was a promise, not a warning. You both knew what Eli was capable of. “We’re safer together.” You shook your head a bit. 

“I hear he’s looking more aggressively for you. I don’t think I’m on his radar.” “You never left his radar. Or mine for that matter.”

“I can’t tell if that was a compliment.” 

“Don’t make me beg.” 

“I’ve always liked a man on his knees.” You glanced up at him as you walked. He had a much too serious look on his face. “Victor. You can’t just waltz into my life again and expect me to leave with you.” 

“I can.” You stopped walking. There was a silence between the two of you. “Do you remember what it feels like to have my power used on you?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” There was a tension between the two of you. It wasn’t nearly loving enough. You could feel the hostility. He needed you on his side and he was about ready to do anything to do it. 

“You can’t go to him,” he whispered. His voice was quiet in the wind of people around the two of you. It felt intimate. 

“I don’t plan to.” 

You were going to speak again when you suddenly began to feel faint. You blinked a couple of times, mouth still open as you searched to regan the muscles to use it. You stumbled forward. He grabbed you, clutching your arms. You fell asleep in his arms.

-

You woke up to a warm blanket being placed around you. Your eyes refused to open for a moment. You were engulfed in a warm blackness. It was peaceful for a few moments. Then your eyes opened and you remembered the panic you felt before you were asleep. 

You were in some sort of hotel room. There was a blonde girl at the edge of your bed that you didn’t notice and a dog at her side. Your breathing grew heavy. You had a feeling this girl had neared death, just as you had. 

“She’s awake,” the girl said. Her voice was quaint. It seemed like you were in some sort of hotel room. You gripped the blankets around you tightly as a tall man you didn’t recognize walked into the room from the adjoined one. Behind him was Victor. 

“Victor? What the fu-”

“I’m sorry. I knew you wouldn’t come with, no matter how hard I tried to convince you.” 

“I told you not to knock her out,” the little girl said. 

“Sydney, not the time.” The girl, Sydney, looked positively pleased with herself. “Can I speak to her alone?” he questioned. Sydney and the tall man slowly left the room, her dog following at her footsteps. Your breathing hadn’t evened down. You were still heaving. 

“Victor-” 

“I panicked,” he admitted. “Don’t make me say it again.” He looked slightly embarrassed which gave you more power in the situation. You pursed your lips and let go of the blanket on top of you. Your knuckles had turned white. He could tell your guard was still up and he couldn’t blame you. He had kidnapped you, for lack of a better word. 

“I can take care of myself.” 

“Maybe I can’t,” he said, snarkily. 

“You can’t just kidnap girls you had a crush on in college Victor.” 

“Who says I had a crush on you?” “Eli.”

“He’s a murderer. You can’t believe a word he says.” Despite the odds, you smiled a bit. You had missed Victor. Though you had things you had to return to, you understood why he had knocked you out. You weren’t likely to forgive that bit anytime soon but you could at least make an attempt to figure out your situation. 

“He’s looking for you. I’m in more danger here than I was out there.” 

“I can’t fight him alone. I need allies against him.” 

“Am I just an ally to you Victor Vale?’

“At the least an ally.”

“At the most?”

“Don’t make me say it.” You looked at him through your lashes. 

“Still the same Victor then.” You sat up all the way. “Who were they?”

“Runaways.”

“Friends.” He smirked. 

“You know I don’t have friends. Not since Eli.” 

“How dare I assume.” You would likely fight him about this whole ordeal when you had the strength to. For now you knew you had entered a war you had been fighting since it was conceived. It was foolish to run away from it. 

Victor gently grabbed your hand. Without even thinking, he took away what little pains you had left. Not as a kindness but as an instinct.

[ladylooch]

Did we ever talk about Nicos reaction to Timo and Emma?

Hello, hello! We talk about the initial reaction when Emma tells Nico she is pregnant in Part 4. Then we learn, Nico basically knew the entire time that they had been hooking up.

But I always imagined the next time Nico sees T....

Emma stayed with Timo the rest of the day. He cancelled his plans last minute with Kevin to make sure Emma didn't run. It is her way after all. Falling asleep with her in his arms, nowhere for them to go, was an instant, core memory for Timo.

Admittedly though, sleep is difficult. He can't stop thinking about her brother a few floors up. Will he be angry? Will he be happy for them? How will this effect their chemistry on the ice? These question plague him, even as he puts his shoes on to head out for practice. He grabs his keys from the kitchen counter, then looks over to where Emma is curled up on the couch under a blanket.

"So... I'll be back around one."

"Okay." Emma murmurs, sitting up. Timo crosses the room, ignoring the awkwardness and kissing her lips like it's a normal day in his life for her to be here. He wants it to be. He hopes it will be. "I will go back to Nico's. I'll tell my parents alone."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I have to tell them. If I'm going to stay here rather than fly home with them."

"Maybe you should go home and get more of your stuff then come back? Or is that too much travel with the baby?"

"It's not going to get any easier for me to travel." Emma chuckles. "I feel my sickness increasing as I get further along." Timo wrinkles his nose at that. He hates her in distress. He can see how exhausted and pale she looks even now.

"Okay, well I can come with to talk to your parents."

"I want to tell them alone." Emma insists. Timo nods, understanding.

"Will I see you later?"

"Yes, I will come back when I am done. Maybe we can all do something together tonight."

"Sure." Timo reaches down for one more lingering kiss. He sighs against her mouth. "Do you need anything? Like food or medicine?" He asks reaching for his wallet. He pulls out his black AMEX, handing it over to her. Emma hesitates.

"T, I have my own money." Timo rolls his eyes, already knowing this is going to be a thing with them. It has been for every room service bill in the hotels they visited too. He tosses the credit card onto the coffee table, then puts his wallet back in his pocket. "I'll see you later." Emma murmurs, reaching for his fingers at his side reassuringly. She gives them a squeeze, then brings them to her lips to kiss his knuckles. He finally seems convinced she isn't leaving, and heads out of the apartment.

His shoulders feel heavy as he sighs again, waiting for the elevator to get to his floor. The doors open and Nico Hischier stares back at him.

"Aw. Are we gonna fall in love now?" Timo chuckles, mocking him and Lexi's elevator moments.

"Funny, daddy." Timo can't help but grin.

"You gonna hit me?"

"You gonna take care of my sister and your baby?"

"Neeks, you know I am."

"Then we are good." Nico moves to the side to let him into the elevator. "Congrats, man. I'm happy for you two." The Swiss men embrace, clapping each other's backs. "She doing okay?"

"Yeah, it took awhile for her to stop crying, but she took a nap and woke up in a better place. She said she is telling your parents today."

"Good. They had a lot of questions for why she was with you last night."

"Sorry. That puts you in a shitty position."

"They let it go quickly when I said Emma would explain when she was ready. I think they suspect something serious is up."

The elevator dings and both of them step out into the garage.

"I'll drive." Nico says, turning towards his Mercedes. They both get in and Nico turns the car on. "You think she's gonna bail right when we leave?"

"I fucking hope not. But with your sister, I never really know." Timo clicks his seatbelt into place, then looks over when Nico doesn't move the car.

"She's going to be there, T. She loves you. Has for a really long time."

"How did you know this whole time and never say anything?" Nico gives him a seriously, what about you look. "I was lying for self-preservation. What is your excuse?"

"I don't know." Nico trails off, then begins to pull out of his parking spot. "I guess I always figured it would end up this way anyway, so why push it?"

"That why you sold Jersey so hard to me in Tulum?"

"That was Siegs. I knew I didn't need to. You were coming to Jersey because you knew you would see Emma more and you could shoot your shot." Timo snorts, then begins to silently laugh, shoulders shaking. "Oh fuck. Gross." Nico groans. "I didn't mean like that!"

"Holy shit, we are having a kid." Timo suddenly sputters.

"Okay, good. It's finally hitting . You've been way too chill about this." Nico reaches out for Timo's head, as he puts it in his hands. "You're good, man. I'm here for you both."

Timo sits back up, sucking in a breath, not feeling any relief. He still feels like he might suffocate in this car. He rolls the window down, happy for the cooler winter air rushing to his face. A conversation with his mom from the summer comes back. She was insisting Alma was a great match for him and he should think of settling down with a nice Swiss girl. The implication that Emma was not dripped from her tone. His dad's hearty agreement had Timo rolling his eyes and changing the subject.

Shit. How the fuck is he going to tell his parents?

[ha-youwish]

could you tell me more about the postcanon p5 and p3 wip? 👀

ask game

this au is an excuse to make characters not a fucking cops and also make my own persona 6 (a rite of passage for any persona fic writer)

so basically, i think the phantom thieves polycule should get back together and then be recruited by mitsuru to join the new shadow ops. the shadow ops now are a private investigative agency apart from the police so they can get around some red tape that made it hard to do things like, say, get akira out of being questioned and beat the shit out of by the police.

so yeah now the phantom thieves are adults, akira was able to convince sojiro to let him run the cafe a few days a week. he does online classes and can't resist digging up dirt on shitty authorities and being like hey futaba check this out, mona helps him out with that. futaba is also doing online schooling and gets money from a mysterious source......

ann is doing modeling oversees at the time of the start of this, ryuji is in between track seasons and spends way too much time in leblanc (gayass), yusuke sells his art and also spends too much time in leblanc (gayass pt2), haru and makoto are on their honeymoon doing their thing in sapporo (makoto is becoming disillusioned with police work, haru has opened up her first cafe there and runs it).

basically mitsuru approaches akira and is like hey we want to make things better but laws suck but also we dont want to risk corruption can the PT be on an unofficial team for the shadow ops while also being allowed to do their own thing. by the time they accept a new cognitive world pops up on their radar, and thats where the ocs come in and things get complicated in a way i dont have energy to explain sorry.

so here read this also fuck cops

One day things will get better, has been the mantra that Makoto has been chanting since she was assigned to Sapporo. That, and, these things take time. 

Her goal to become a police commissioner took a bit of a turn the more she went through college. But she was here now, working with the investigations unit at the Sapporo Police Department. 

It… wasn’t what it seemed when she first joined. As the newbie, she’d been mostly shadowing under her boss so far, contributing to maybe one or two cases for a year. But it was fine, these things took time. She could change the system, but she just had to be patient. 

It was a little hard to be patient, though, when her boss treated her like she was his personal servant. 

Makoto filled up the coffee mug for the third time this evening, trying to suppress the scowl on her face. One of her colleagues in the unit, a nice man named Nagaki, walked in the room. 

She remembered the conversation they had the other day, when she intervened with one of the officers in an interrogation room. Makoto had gotten in more trouble than the officer who was about to get violent, and the situation had shaken her. 

Nagaki had kindly come up to her after the incident and told her she did a good thing. “But,” he said quietly, “Good things aren’t appreciated around here. Not without status.”

“Can I be honest with you?” She had said, still reeling from her reprimand. “I joined the police to change things. My dad was an officer, he was kind, and I was hoping to make the system more like him.”

“It’s a good goal to have, but it’s not going to happen if you’re here.” He scoffed, bitter. “Either quit or get fired.”

He’d walked off after that, ending the conversation before she could ask. But his words have been rattling in her head ever since. She couldn’t believe it. He’d been in this line of work far longer than her, but she felt she was different. She had to be different if things were going to change. 

One day things will get better, but why did it feel like things were only getting worse?