#it was very easy but i kept blanking out so i might have still fucked it up... please pray for me

[mychlapci]

urhh today's exams are over...

[thetarttfuldickhead]

If When Jamie is named England’s captain a few years from now and he’s asked about inspirational figures and captain role models, he will not stop singing Isaac’s praises. Just, the way Isaac runs a tight ship and won’t tolerate any nonsense but always has their backs and makes sure there’s a lot of fun, too, silly stuff that keeps the team close and happy and mutually supportive; keeps them feeling like family, almost. It’s Ted’s heritage, the seeds Ted planted, but Isaac’s nurtured and sustained them, tended to the garden and kept it in bloom, and added some vibrant saplings of his own.

Jamie probably names a couple of other people too, whoever was in charge when he played for Man City, someone from his academy days or England’s under-21s, people like that.

He doesn’t mention Roy. And no one asks about it, and no one thinks anything of it—

—except for Roy, who watches the interview with Keeley curled up against his side on their couch and who notices the omission with a wild jumble of hurt and wounded pride and shame and jealousy (all mixed up with the shocking, burning pride he feels for Jamie, England’s captain, fucking hell).

Because Roy knows he wasn’t a great captain for Richmond, yeah, and was a horrible captain for Jamie (though to be fair, Jamie was a horrible person to captain, and Isaac isn’t likely to have been able to handle him at full-on prick either, only Roy’s not fantastic at being fair to himself, so), but he’s still Roy fucking Kent, the best on any team he’s ever been on and Jamie’s fucking childhood idol and his fucking everything now, so to have the little prick not even mention him…

He sulks. He tries not to, because he knows it’s silly and it’s Jamie’s big day, isn’t it, and Roy’s not going to ruin it by having A Feeling, but the feeling(s) persist and he walks through the afternoon with his scowl several shades darker than normally.

“What’s the matter, babe?” Keeley asks, and Roy’s long since given up trying to bullshit her so he spills. Keeley nods and listens and gives him a hug and a kiss and tells him that yeah, you’re gonna need to let that go or actually talk to Jamie about it, because she has long since taken a stand on not sorting their shit out for them.

And she has a thing with Rebecca that afternoon (only it’s the first Roy’s ever heard of it, so he can’t help but wonder if she had a thing with Rebecca prior to Roy’s confession), so when Jamie gets home, bouncing through the door like a puppy on speed, it’s just Roy there to greet him and tell him how amazing he is and yes, of course Roy watched the announcement, your hair looked fucking fine, yes, Keeley saw it too, no, don’t worry, she’s just out for coffee, she’ll be back for dinner and let you know how very impressed she is, and it’d be easy to just let it lie, put the lingering regret away and bask in Jamie’s joy, but they’d said they’d try not do that anymore, not cover stuff up when there’s the chance they might fester, so when Jamie furrows his brow and cocks his head to the side and asks if he’s okay, Roy takes a deep breath:

“It fucking hurt my feeling when you didn’t mention me, when they asked about captains that have inspired you,” he says, and then adds before Jamie can reply, “I know why you didn’t and that’s… that’s fucking fair, innit, but. It also made me wish that I’d been. Better. A better captain. For you.”

“Yeah,” Jamie says after a long, silent moment. He’s wearing that slightly blank look he adopts whenever someone’s caught him by surprise and he’s trying to figure out how to react. “Um. Sometimes I wish I’d been less of a prick, too, you know.”

Roy nods. He knows. And it’s not absolution, and it neither erases or rewrites any of their past mistakes, but it eases the ache in Roy’s chest all the same.

“We’re better now,” he offers, to Jamie, to himself.

“Yeah,” Jamie agrees with a small sigh. He grabs hold of Roy’s hand, tugging him along as he sits down on the couch, and then he curls up against Roy’s side, same as Keeley did just hours ago. “You’re a great fucking coach, though” he tells Roy seriously. “Me favourite, swear down.”

Roy snorts a laugh as he puts an arm around Jamie. “Better fucking be, considering how many blowjobs I’ve given you this week alone.”

“Mm, fucking mint, those,” Jamie agrees thoughtfully, then jabs a finger in Roy’s side. “Oi, this is the part where you tell me I’m your favourite player.”

And oh. That’s perfect, innit. “You’re not my favourite player,” Roy says, carefully not looking at Jamie.

The noise Jamie makes are equal parts disbelieving and outraged. “Um, excuse me, mate?”

“You’re not,” Roy insists, feeling a smile tug at his lips as he innocently adds, “It’s probably Isaac.”

And Jamie huffs a laugh against his neck. And Jamie says you’re an arsehole. And Jamie says you’re me favourite arsehole, though.

You’re me favourite everything, man.

And Roy holds him tight and breathes him in and, for the moment, believes him.

[minniesmutt]

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☾ ━━━ CONTENT: PARTIAL NON-SEXUALNUDITY, MENTION OF TATTOO GUNS, MENTION CHANGBIN TOUCHING READERS BOOBS, TALK ABOUT SEX, TOXIC MAN, CURSING, MENTION SOCIAL MEDIA STALKING, SLUT SHAMING ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.5K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog ☾ ━━━ a repost from my old blog

     It only took Changbin a couple of days to develop the design for his receptionist. He’d texted her the workup and got the approval. The two talked about a few other things regarding the tattoo, then it was just a matter of getting it done. The two decided to just get it done after closing one night. 

      So while she cleaned up the front end, he set up in his room, ensuring he had all his inks and supplies and everything. “Do you want me to close the register now Bin or wait?” Y/n called from the front

     “You can close it now. Your tattoos on me tonight,” Bin called back

     “You sure?” She asked

     “Yes. Hurry up, I’m waiting for you.”

     Y/n chuckled at him closed up the register and put the money away in the safe. She grabbed her phone and her water before walking into his room. He still had his speaker on and his usual playlist still playing lowly in the background as she sat on the table.

     Changbin smiled at her as he finished prepping the tattoo gun and laying it on the tray. “Ready?”

     “Tell me what to do boss.”

     “It’s a sternum so,” Changbin handed her a couple of nipple covers, “Just unhook your bra and put those on then roll up your shirt, then lay back on the table. Are you okay with me having to roll it up more if I have to?”

     “Yeah.” Y/n agreed

     Changbin turned his back to her to let her do what he asked while he double-checked everything again. Once she okayed him to turn around he got back to work, prepping the area and then applying the stencil and letting it still on the skin for a few minutes before carefully peeling it back, a temporary version of the design being left behind.

     “I’ll do a quick line so you can get a feel for it.” Changbin turned the gun on and dipped it in the ink, “and if you need a break, let me know.”

     He did a quick line and looked at her for confirmation. Y/n nodded and he went to work. Tracing the lines he’d laid out on her skin. “Why’d you choose sternum? It’s one of the more painful places.”

     “I like how the placement looks mostly. Plus it’s easy to hide too.”

     “Why are you planning to hide it?”

     “Talking to a guy and he’s cute but isn’t super into tattoos.”

     “Fuck him then.” Changbin chuckled

     “Yeah. Cute is the only thing he has going for him.” Y/n sighed

     “Tell me about him.”

     “You sure?” 

     “Yeah. We’re gonna be here a while, might as well talk.”

     “You’re right,” Y/n agreed, “we met on Tinder and we’ve had one date so far and I didn’t feel anything. He’s been calling me pet names and shit since the date too.”

     “You don’t sound too happy about it.”

     “It was fine at first but I’m starting to think that he thinks we’re together. He asked for my location earlier today too.”

      “You should stop seeing him in my opinion,” Bin said as he went for more ink before coming back. “He sounds very possessive of someone that’s not his.”

     “I mean, some possessiveness is fine with me, but I just feel… uncomfortable with it.”

     “What else has he done?”     “Followed all my friends on social media, and requested to follow my family whom I barely talk to anyway. I’m sure he’s stalking mine. It was a hassle to even go on a date with him because he kept canceling the day off with bullshit.”

     “Do you know the amount of red flags you just told me?” Changbin pulled the gun away from her skin and looked up at her

     “That’s what my friends say,” Y/n sighed

     “They are right,” Changbin went back to work, “Did you tell him about your tattoo.”

     “Told him I was getting one. Didn’t say it was my boss.”

     “Don’t think he would take it well that you’re male boss was giving you a tattoo.”

     “Yeah, especially with my tits out.”

     The two took a moment to chuckle before the comfortable silence came over them again and Changbin worked. Y/n listened to the music and the sound of the gun as he finished the center of the piece and moved to the ribs.

     “Do you want a break before we go over the ribs?”

     “Yes.” Changbin helped her sit up and handed her the water she brought in.

     “Why’d you start talking to him.” as he leaned on his elbows against the table

     “Bored and horny and he was the first person I matched with.”

     “Valid reason I guess. Is he good in bed at least?”

     “Hell no.” Y/n sipped on her water, “He didn’t even try to get me off. Nor did it even feel good.”

     “Tell him it’s not working out and block him,” Changbin said before they got back to tattooing. Only for her phone to ring.

     “Speak of the devil.” Y/n sighed after looking at the caller ID

     “Put it on speaker.” Changbin smiled.

     Y/n answered the phone call and put it on speaker, letting it rest on her chest, “Hey.”     “Hey baby,” the man on the other end said making Y/n roll her eyes, “Are you done yet? Wanna come over?” There was hope in his voice and a hint of slyness Changbin caught on to

     “Now you wanna hang out? When I have stuff going on?” Y/n asked

     “It’s not like you need to tattoo. It’s just gonna make you look trashy.”

     Changbin’s head shot up and looked at her. Was this guy serious? 

     “Why should I give a shit what you think about it? It’s on my body not yours.”

     “I bet the girl who’s doing it has a shitty design anyways. Just stop the appointment and come over.”

     “Y/n, are you okay if I move your breasts up more?” Was it evil of Changbin to speak? Maybe. But he’d heard this guy talk for less than five minutes and he was over him and his way of trashing his work.

     “Yeah, that’s fine.” And he did need to move her boob out of the way for a couple of lines.

     “Was that a guy? You’re letting a guy do your tattoo?! And why the hell is he having to touch your tits for it?”

     “Because he’s my boss and he offered to do it and it’s a sternumn tattoo. The design goes under my boobs.”

     “Wow. Didn’t realize you were such a whore Y/n. He probably chose the placement too. He’s probably trying to fuck you.”

     “First of all, I chose the placement for my tattoo. Second—”

     “So you are a whore. Am I not enough or something?”

     “Actually, yeah. You’re barely anything for me quite honesty. And for you to just accuse me of being a whore for getting a tattoo in a certain place, says a lot about your character. So fuck you Yu-jun. Don’t fucking contact me again, asshole.” Y/n hung up the phone, “Sorry Bin.”

     “No, I told you to put it on speaker. Don’t apologize.”

     “Still feel bad for fighting with him in front of you.”

     “Show me a picture of him so if he comes here I can punch him in the face for dissing my work.” The two laughed at the comment before continuing to work and just talking. Random topics came up and it took a few hours for Changbin to finish but by the end of the night, it was done and both were fairly satisfied with the design and its outcome.

     “I still feel like I should give you something for the tattoo,” Y/n said as he cleaned up the studio and she waited with her things on a stool off the side

     “How about a date then?” Changbin suggested as he tied up a trash bag

     “Did you tell me to stop talking to Yu-jun just so you could ask me out?” 

     “No, he’s an actual piece of shit. But, I am an oppurtunist.”

     Y/n smiled and giggled to herself a bit, “Alright. A date for a tattoo.”

     “Let’s head home. It’s getting late.” Changbin smiled and the two quickly took the trash out before turning all the lights off and locking up for the night. 

     Since Changbin and Y/n were always the last to leave at night, they usually walked to their cars together. Changbin had offered it her first shift and they’d been doing it ever since. He went over a bit of the tattoo aftercare as he walked her over to her car before they turned to their usual conversations of whatever the hell popped into their head at that time, usually clients and walk-ins that came about and were pissed that the very busy tattoo shop didn’t have any openings and was by appointment only.

     “Text me when you get home?” Bin asked as he opened her driver-side door for her

     “I will. Thank you for, everything tonight.”

     “You’re welcome.”

     Y/n got in her car and Changbin closed the door and walked to his car, waving goodbye to her as she started her car.

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[bogosbintedthealien]

Why Did I Have To Reincarnate As The Yandere Capture Target!?

Okay, I have this story made up 2 years ago and it never really went anywhere. I guess I’ve been having a bit of a crisis when it comes to creativity for the last 2 years.

Anyway I kept going back and forth so fucking much on this wip if I was gonna scarp it or not. I don't like the gen story idea anymore but I REALLY love how I outlined the childhood arc so I though I might as well dump that shit here and be done w/ this damn thing. Not gonna bother saving the basic outline plot or save the first two chapters that were actually posted nor the wip of ch3 & 4.

:CHARACTER INFO: 

He’s the ‘yandere’ one. Anyway MC is the typical ‘normal guy’, college age maybe. Has a younger sister in HS. They’re both otakus or something. She got him into otome games. (He was already into romance novels so it was easy for him to get into them.) Develops malusdomesticaphobia after death. Forever internally screaming. Unsure how to act most of the time so he just stands behind powerful/influential ppl. 

OG yandere was abused or had bad stuff happen to him. Gave him a twisted view of things. Outwardly appears very docile and soft but when the Protag shows him kindness and blah blah he quickly becomes obsessed bc it’s been a long time since someone has/no one really treats him like that/like they’re equals. Uses his rep as a wall flower weakling to get his way and take out ppl (like will pit capture targets against each other so he can have Protag all to himself.)

There is a prince character. He’s the 2nd prince. I like the idea of him being the younger one or the less important one. Maybe that can even cause more plot. Yes MC has the favor of the prince, but this is the 2nd prince and is not favored by his father, the king. 

The protag girl who’s just a little doll. A bby who needs to be protected. A smile worth fighting for. For wars to break out and ppl to—you get the point. Stereotypical yes, but you need to keep in mind she’s a blank slate, so this is what it defaults on based off of marketing. Daughter of a Baron. Looks plain but still very cute w/ doe eyes.

The villainess is the second child to a powerful noble family (Marquess) and younger sister to one of the possible capture targets. Family sees her as a tool, not a person outside of the brother. Puts on a strong front that can only be seen through by the brother. 

The villainess’s older brother is the only person in her family who treats them with genuine affection as they are a siscon. The older brother type character. Charismatic but laid back. 

Plot twist due to MC’s meddling: was not aware of the abuse sister suffered due to being away at academy with the crown prince, simply thought it was tough love. 

A cute short boy character. Probably has the plot twist of being a little shit. Like, maybe he hates women but pretends to be a ladies man. Or he has a group of boys following him that do his bidding and he bullies ppl w/ them. MC meets him early on and leaves a powerful impression on him. So later in the timeskip this character is still the same, more or less; but has that added layer of following the MC around to try and get his attention. Not really a crush, but that weird anime admiration thing. 

Smart nerd character. He can be the commoner who gets into the school via smarts and/or powerful magic ability. He’s the one standoffish character who stays quiet. Turns out he harbors a haten of aristocats and is planning to summon some sealed monster under the school or the city near the school. He has the surprising routes where he kinda corners the Protag to help with this stuff. This is the MC's biggest concern bc he knows this guy is planning to harm a lot of people and doesn’t really know how to find him ‘cuz he’s a commoner from a big city.

:OUTLINE:

Bio dad and uncle are twins. Dad is the younger twin. Is kidnapped when 4-5 and kidnappers demand ransom. During that time commoners mob the place and kill everyone. (Turns out some of the butlers and/or maids are apart of the slave trade and the ppl assumed everyone in the house was associated with it as well.) Uncle rescues him and adopts him but doesn’t tell his wife or anyone that this is his nephew, not his bastard son. Claims he is that bc during the period between his brother’s easter being ransacked to finding him. It’s revealed a chef of his brother’s house escaped but was later found and lynched by the ppl.

The wife is angered by the child and completely ignores him and in turn so does her servants (which are half of the workers) The staff loyal to the Uncle just do the bare minimum for him. This is about a 5-6 month period. He is barely taken care of unless his uncle was around (Uncle’s servants and very fond of their master so they’re so shocked by this ‘bastard child’ that appeared out of nowhere, they think his mother must’ve been a provocative whore or smth bc the Uncle is so nice and caring about his family.)

This is where he learns how to appeal and get sympathy from staff/commoners. Bc he can’t take it anymore after a few months and starts begging for things or to be taken care of. A few of the Aunt’s staff pity him a little and throw him a bone while looking the other way, while the Uncle’s staff will act a little nicer and give him some extra stuff. (During this time he doesn’t really interact with his cousins [two boys, one girl] bc the staff aways rush them away from him since the mother forbids him from interacting with her kids.)

Around this time the Aunt blows up on the Uncle about this and the Uncle breaks under pressure and tells her the truth. She had mixed feelings about this. After this she starts acknowledging him but only takes care of him on the sake of her duty.

She ‘warms’ up to him when she overhears him having an intelligent conversation with the staff or they talk about a concept too advanced for his age. OR he reads some complex book she or her husband left out.

She’s shocked bc she just assumed him to be a country bumpkin, but realizes he knows how to read and write and is a genius for his age. So she takes advantage of this. Bc of the fact word gets out her husband cheated on her and has taken in his bastard child, her reputation has taken a hit in the social circles and there has been some nasty gossip about her being spread as a result. So she has lost face bc of him and takes her anger out on him by ignoring him and treating him coldly. So she turns this around by giving him a chance. Dumps a bunch of classes on him and gives him high expectations to live up to.

And for the most part he does, and he gets treated nicer as a result. She gets impressed, but he still walks on eggshells bc he’ll get punished for things his cousins won’t. And in general held to a higher standard.

She takes advantage of this by treating him like a son when out in public and receiving all these compliments about how well mannered and obedient he is, how smart, blah blah. So ppl are like, oh she must be a good teacher, he’s so well taught. And ppl say things like how generous and nice she is to take in her husband's bastard son of unknown origins like he was her own and blah blah. Which makes up for the lost rep she got before when he initially came to the house. This turns into a thing of her flaunting him and he’s just a prop for her. He realizes this but doesn’t do anything about it bc this is a good exchange for him. She gets to use him to boost her image and raise her rep in social circles and he gets a better disposition in the house and gets treated much better. He’s allowed to interact with his cousins now.

Eventually she gets invited by a lady who lives in the royal castle/is allowed access there who’s a very high ranking lady who she’s friends with. She’s like ‘hey, come to the castle, bring ALL of your children, even that one.’ For like playdates with her kids (also wants to see her friend’s kids). So Aunt brings all of them there and this is how the MC meets the 2nd prince.

The 2nd prince gets along well with his older brother, but when he hits 15, he gets sent away for more proper education since he’s the heir to the throne. So he’s sad his brother isn’t around anymore and that they’re no one to play with him. His sister’s an infant so the staff are like ‘prince plz, you can’t play w her she’s too little’. He wants to play like swords or chess but a baby can’t do that. He moops around in the castle and meets the MC.

Now the MC isn’t playing with the other children bc when his cousins tried to have him included in games with the other kids in the castle, those kids didn’t want to play with him bc of what their parents told them. (after a couple of times) This keeps happening that his cousins hesitate to add him in and eventually just tell him they can’t bc the kids of higher families didn’t want him there and even at this age they know they can’t do anything about that. (His cousins get along with him at this point and like but and are sad they can’t include him but the situation calls for it and they can’t do anything about it.) So he’s just moping and talking to some of the staff and bonding with them.

The prince isn’t playing with the other kids bc even as a kid he can tell most noble children are being fake nice to him and are just wanting to shake hands. He doesn’t know why they’re doing this, but he can’t tell they are trying real hard to be chummy with him and it’s forced. (you know, how like little kids can even tell when an adult is being fake nice?)

When he meets the MC, the MC doesn’t know that this is the prince bc so many noble children have blond hair. (It’s common in this place, for nobles at least.) So to him, he’s just another blond, lilac eyed boy. The princes ends up liking him bc he’s A-quiet and reserved B-smart and likes playing chess or smth C-doesn't have that fake nicety that the other children give off & isn’t super eager to please him. So he’s like ‘oh, you’re like a normal person, let's play.’ That how they initially become friends and bond and like on his 6th visit with the prince, he either A-has a patch over his check and when MC asks about it the prince tells him what happened and it makes the way the in-game prince got his cheek scar and it hits the MC then who he’s talking too. (It was never said in the game how old he got the scar, only how.)

OR B-MC is called into a waiting room by some workers and leads him into a room with guards on standby. He’s wondering just who the heck his buddy is the kid of to get this treatment. As he sits across from him he realizes the prince has a bandage over his ear. When he asks what happened, the prince whines about almost being assassinated and the tip of his ears was cut off in the struggle. It’s then the MC realizes this is the prince bc he has the tip of his left/right ear cut off and hides his ears with his hair bc of it. The guards in and out of the room is bc his parents are on high alarm rn and they have to play in a closed room. It’s only him and MC bc the prince whined and wanted his ‘rabbit friend’ to play with. (MC is like, ‘oh lucky me, I managed to befriend the prince w/o knowing/trying’.)

Anyway, around this point the Aunt just straight up says, ‘I do not love you, but I do respect you.’ And the MC just comes to terms with this bc he just realizes that she’s just never going to be that person for him. And he’s like ‘That’s okay.’ He gets along very well w/ his Uncle and cousins and it feels like a family again to him. He just has a ‘you scratch my back, I scratch yours’ relationship. He doesn’t love her, but understands her. (He is surprised when he gets older like, he knows before his 11 birthday, he’s supposed to be nearly killed by something his Aunt pulled, it’s revealed she did it and was taken away, putting the Yandere strains on the rest of the manor. Alas that never comes to pass and this happens instead, surprising him. Making him realize she’s being very honest, and in her own way, this is the kindest she’ll ever be to him.)

As for the cousins, they’re just innocent little kids, they just think he’s their half brother and accept him. The girl is the youngest, she’s the spoiled little princess bc she’s the only girl and the youngest so she’s mommy’s favorite. The middle child is a boy and the closest to the MC. He’s the quieter, shyer one who's nerdier. Him and the MC are gonna have the same book series as their fav, some type of mystery novels for kids. They eagerly await every release and bond over that. The oldest is going to be the more playful, energetic, and wants to fight sword type of boy. They all like MC and he loves them like cousins and thinks of them as such.

His Uncle is a sweet family man or at the very least loves his family. He really loved his brother and when he inherited the title, he made sure to pull strings to get his younger brother a title and some land. The Father got the title of baron bc of him. Instead of becoming a knight or butler to another noble house. He’s crestfallen when his brother and sister-in-law dies so when he finds out his nephew is still alive, he’s overjoyed and loves him. (As a strange way of grieving.)

Around 12-13ish his Uncle and Aunt are like ‘hey we got new information about your real parents. We’re trying to keep this under wraps but, there are a trusted few who know the truth as well.’ The MC already knows what they mean bc of the game. So before they tell him it or the whole truth, smth happens and his new family dies.

At this point, he’s already good friends with the prince. Their relationship is him being a spineless pale and the prince treating him like a bunny. Like, not really acknowledging his agency. Kinda brushing him aside like a pet and dragging him to things w/o considering his feelings a lot. As far as the prince is concerned, they're close. The MC is just there bc being friends with the prince gives him a shield and ways to get more connections. So he can’t really do anything about this sort of treatment he gets. The prince isn’t being malicious just that he’s been given everything he wants so he doesn’t stop to think about the other party.

So when MC’s 3rd family is wiped out, the prince goes up to his parents and is like, ‘hey can you do smth about my friend? He’s an orphan again, I don’t want him to get sent to the Church, I’ll never see him again!’ The king and queen are like ‘ok’ and that’s how the MC gets into the house of the Villainess and Siscon capture target. Their parents are like MC’s Aunt but way worse. So in the OG game they got their daughter engaged to the 2nd prince by orchestrating an accident to happen while she was somewhere with the prince. She ends up w/ a few inch long cut on her forearm, the family uses that as leverage for them to get engaged since their daughter is ‘unmarriageable’ now. So they see him as an opportunity to get more favors from the crown. Not only are they initially reimbursed for taking him in but… So, basically they bring him to a business party, and him not knowing who these ppl are talk to some ppl are when it is revealed that he’s who he is, the couple are repulsed by the family sponsoring a bastard of unknown origins. So they cut off business ties with them. They use this as a way to complain to the crown that taking him in causes them to lose on a partnership that went back generations. (This business partner is in on this bc they get like, idk exclusive rights to some mines for whatever. But they still do business through a shell company.) And that's how they worm their way in to wed off their daughter. MC is completely caught off guard with this when he thought he was already on guard. This just further convinces him not to try and make connections here. Being outside is his solace.

The last thing to note is that the prince only starts respecting him and treating the MC more like a proper friend when they're a little older (like, about to go into the academy age). The MC sticks up for himself and grows a spine which surprised the prince bc up until this point he had always been obedient, timid, and mild. The pushback he gets from it kinda bitchslaps him in the face and he is like ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t- I apologize for that. Blah blah blah.’ He doesn’t do a complete 180* right then and there. But it kinda wakes him up a little bit. Like ‘Oh, I’ve been treating you like you’re my dog and you’re not. You’re more important to me than that. I don’t want to lose you. I’m sorry about that, I’ll change my behavior towards you.’ This is when their friendship turns into a bromance. He treats the MC more like an equal, with respect.

The main reason why I stopped myself from scaping this many times before is bc I really ended up liking how I characterized the aunt.

Anyway, a few details I though I should throw in here. I had planned for the ppl crushing on MC as the heroine, villainess, commoner guy, and npc/mob #1 (male) & 2 (female).

The npc/mob friends where gonna be his respite from the colorful cast of main characters. I would've written it where you couldn't tell who end game was for awhile bc he had soft moments w/ all of them.

Expect villainess who he see as a sister even tho she don't. Her and Heroine would later lost interest in MC and kiss each other instead. (fluffy sapphics!!!).

He'd get commoner guy to back down eventually or whatever and it was a really question of which mob friend he'd end up w/. Male friend was the answer!

[townofcadence]

"I'm concerned." He pointed out, the mellow tone he'd been using turning even more gentle, as he feels a coiling in his stomach. The last thing he wanted was to make the guy feel worse, but he seemed...fragile, as of now. Point-blank might be firing a little too direct.

Instead, Artair pats Jonas' shoulder for a brief moment from his perch. "Not pissed. I don't know you, but... you're clearly not okay, and I'm worried, that's all. And I'm not trying to berate you or anything either. I'm just... not really sure why you feel the need to hide it after what I've already seen, and what I'm offering, you know? You don't always have to be on; I'm not waiting for you to fuck up or entertain me. I'm just offering to help."

He glances towards the sky. The rain is pattering on the glass above the bus stop. Hardly more than a musical dapple to the night sounds. He can hear that, the hum of neon signs, distant cars.... it's weird not hearing crickets, or seeing the stars, though. It's altogether foreign and comforting in a way home wasn't.

He continues, after a few moments. "If you'd rather keep it your business, then that's your choice, and I won't argue. I can respect a boundary like that. But I think... I guess I think it'd be easier not to push if you say that, rather than pretending the house isn't on fire when I've already seen the flames through the window." He'd had enough friends in his lifetime who wanted people to chase them in a sense, that wanted help, but didn't know how to ask. Often enough, they needed you to push and knock each wall down with effort enough to prove you were there by choice, rather than somehow them twisting your sympathy into obligation. So he pushed. and he found it like second nature to do so.

He still struggles with it. The hurt learning he was hurting others with that forceful nature was fresh, but it was harder still to unlearn how to latch on like a dog to a bone until he understood and could fix whatever was wrong. It was.....complicated.

Listening to Jonas made him want to frown again, even just a pinch, but he kept his face remarkably placid, smoothed of any feelings, no matter how imperceptibly negative they could be construed. If a frown was enough for Jonas to read him as pissed, he didn't want to risk it. He did have to fight the urge to pinch his the bridge of his nose, though.

He took back what he'd said, about Jonas being easy to read, open and without walls unlike his friends. It was true, but only for like... maybe a the first two minutes of talking to him, tops. Then it was Jonas rapidly applying bricks to the area, trying to obfuscate what he'd already seen, and cover it back up, before scrambling to throw a sheet over it, smiling, and asking nonchalantly what wall he was talking about. It was strange, a very strange way of handling the whole thing, really.

It kind of reminded him of James and his natural theatrics, but where James was almost calculated about it, to play up mystery, to dance an enigmatic truth around you with the help of smoke and mirrors....

...This was more like..... well. A loony-toons character doing a slapstick routine and landing in every pie, before pretending he nailed it just how he intended.

He does watch the card movements, once the motion catches his attention. Jonas is clearly practiced with his hands, in different ways than his own were. This was about the showmanship, the dexterity and the craft of producing fluid movements, and it would be a lie not to call it impressive. "Baccarat? Can't say I even know what that is, really. My old man only really played poker, and he tried to keep me from getting too into that kinda thing, too." He shrugs. Maybe Jonas needed his own way to open up? He wasn't about to let it drop, but he could let it rest. Sometimes that was better for getting somewhere helpful. "But I'm sure if you tell me how to play, I can pick it up, easy enough. We can talk while you shuffle--- you definitely have quite a bit of skill in that area."

There was that little blink again and then the smile did drop long enough for Jonas to exhale softly. Arthur received a brief glance, clouded with sudden anxiety and worry. Brown eyes darted over the expression on his face and the downturned creases of his mouth.

" Fuck. I ah...Sorry, sorry. I'm...not trying to piss you off or anything by being a smart-ass or something..." he answered, looking away and fumbling around in his coat. Oof. He had that sinking too-familiar sense of anxiousness that plagued him when he knew he was losing his audience.

He pulled out a pack of cards and began to shuffle them carefully, giving a little one-shouldered shrug. " To be honest...I don't know but hey that's kinda how it goes right? Being on stage gets in your brain. To the point that it feels more natural to just keep the act going, even when you're done with the show..."

His hands danced over and through the cards gracefully, making the cards seem like living things entirely separate from Jonas himself. He shifted the pack of cards from one hand to the other, lightly holding them up between his thumb, index and middle finger.

" This is what they call the Biddle grip, " he said and then quickly shifted the cards again to his left hand so that they rested in the palm of his hand, with his thumb loosely against one side of the cards, his forefinger at the top and his last three fingers curled around the other side of the cards. " This one's for you. It's the Dealer's Grip. Also known as the Mechanic's Grip. Just a couple of standard ways that most card tricks, manipulations and dirty dealing begin. "

He flipped through the cards again, shuffling them busily. " You ever play baccarat, Arthur? "

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 || dark!Bucky Barnes & dark!Steve Rogers x reader

summary: a little fresh air never hurt anyone, right?

word count: 10.3k (yes, OVER TEN THOUSAND WORDS OF FILTH what is wrong with me)

warnings: noncon smut (incl. anal, oral m and f receiving, dp, and spitroasting), bondage/restraint (and a gag), some mild violence, lots of slapping, pussy spanking, forced orgasms, degradation/derogatory language, kinda kidnapping, a touch of stockholm syndrome?, very brief breeding kink, period-typical sexism (this is set in the late 60s but you wouldn't really be able to tell aside from that and the lack of technology)

a/n: the song that plays on the radio, and the song that just so happens to be the title of the fic, is by john lee hooker in case anyone wants the proverbial vibes

You needed a chance to clear your head every once in a while, that's what camping in the woods was for.  It was the perfect time of year for it, too; the leaves were changing, the woodland animals were beginning to prepare for hibernation, and the weather was almost warm with a refreshing breeze that promised to bring the winter chill soon enough.

It was far from your first time in these woods, you knew the drive like the back of your hand by now, just as well as you knew how to hike down to the best places to set up camp.  

You set down your pack and took in a deep breath of the crisp autumn air.  No sounds except for the wind in the trees, the trickle of the creek, and your own thoughts which you found pleasantly blank.  You'd chosen a spot by the creek, where you could spearfish on evenings that you felt especially adventurous, with a nice dirt patch perfect for a fire.  The most dangerous thing about camping in the fall was that the dry leaves could catch flame so easily, so one of the key stages of setting up camp was raking away any foliage from your firepit, lest it become unintentional kindling.

The next order of business was finding a few dozen smooth stones to surround the fire, along with some logs and sticks to burn.  

A knife and flint was just enough to speed up your firebuilding so that you had something solid going by nightfall, shedding your jacket to better feel the warmth as the flames grew and the sun set.

Sure, the woods could feel a little… creepy, at night, for lack of a better word, but it was more tranquil than anything.  Most of the wildlife that was so active during the day stilled and silenced, bar the occasional owl’s hoot, so the loudest sounds were the crackling of your fire and the ever-present trickle of the creek.  You heated your kettle for a cup of chamomile tea, something to help you get to sleep on the admittedly uncomfortable sleeping bag in your canvas tent.

The mug warmed your fingers as you filled and held it, and the steam warmed your face as you took a sip; but the contents warmed your chest, and your soul, as you contemplated the flavors; is it possible that tea tastes better when enjoyed in the quiet woods, mid-autumn?

You were already yawning by the time the mug was finished, so you set it aside and crawled into your tent, shedding the excessive layers and slipping between the fluffy down-stuffed layers of your bedroll.  It was chilly at first but you knew your body heat would make it toasty all too soon, so you ignored the way you shivered as you fluffed your pillow and laid it under your head.

It was dark with only the fading light of your fire seeping in through the thick-weave canvas; and it was quiet, being the middle of the forest and all.  One sound you didn’t expect were distant sirens, barely audible, which made you wonder if something had happened, but you couldn't know what so you didn't pay it much mind as you drifted to sleep.

The next morning came early, of course; as early as the sun rose, warm sunlight flooding through the canvas of your tent.

You enjoyed staying in the bed for a while, not so much because it was very comfortable (it wasn’t) but just because you wanted to relish having no need to get up yet.  No job, no cleaning, no chores… though you were pretty hungry so that inspired you to get up and see about breakfast.

Slipping on a few more layers to protect yourself from the morning breeze, you opened your tent and stepped out into the woods, finding your fire had been reduced to a pile of embers meaning that you would need to find more wood to get it going for breakfast-cooking purposes.  And that’s what you were about to do when you heard a snapping of twigs echo through the woods, making you glance up to the source of the noise.

Your back straightened instantly at the sight of two men, one with short blonde hair and the other’s dark and nearly to his shoulders, walking down the hill nearby just across the creek.  They were still pretty distant, and yet they were much too close for comfort; close enough to see that these were not men one would want to encounter while alone in the woods.

They had new clothes— baggy and loose, almost certainly stolen— but it wasn’t enough to hide where they must’ve come from.  They might as well have still been in jumpsuits with numbers on their chests.

The prison, just over five miles away.  Had they really hiked this far?  You kicked yourself now for ignoring the sirens last night.

You froze as they turned and caught your gaze, the three of you locked in a stare for a brief moment before one of them took a step forward: that was all the cause you needed to run like hell, turning on your heel and starting so fast you nearly slipped on the leaves beneath you.  You heard them call out, chasing after you, but you focused on staring ahead and trying to remember the path back home, or at least to the road where someone might drive by to help you.

A root nearly caught your foot but you kept running, hating that you could hear them gaining on you since it didn’t actually seem to help you run any faster.  You looked back and saw them much too close for comfort, but when you looked back ahead it was too late to avoid the tree right in front of you; you swerved but it still made you slip and almost fall.

But you didn’t fall.  Someone caught you, and grabbed you, and pulled you into his oppressive form.

His arms held you painfully tight as his hand covered your mouth.  "Gotcha," the man growled against your ear, licking the shell of it as you struggled against his grip.  

Everything everyone had told you about why a lady shouldn’t camp alone in the woods suddenly flashed in your mind, your eyes squinting shut as you wished you had listened.  All you could do now was kick wildly, swinging your legs in the air which didn't even do anything.

"Pretty little thing, aren't ya?” he purred as you saw the second man come into view— the blonde one, so you knew it was the one with long, dark hair that must’ve been holding you, giving you such a twisted compliment.  “Just beggin' to be fucked right."

"Don't look so scared, sweetheart, we're not gonna hurt you…” the blonde man explained, “just play nice and we will too."

"Speak for yourself, Rogers," the man holding you snarled.  "Been a long time since I got to feel a pussy, I wanna tear this little bitch up."

You sobbed and writhed as the one apparently called Rogers hushed you soothingly, trying to calm you.  "Hey, just do what we say and it won't hurt alright?  Just take it easy."

He stepped closer, reaching out towards you while you grunted and whined with every kick, smiling in a way that would’ve been soothing in nearly any other situation.  He motioned to his partner who slowly lowered his hand from your mouth, and though your instinct was to scream you just heard yourself panting and whimpering instead.

“Did you hear me?  We’re not gonna hurt you.  We haven’t even introduced ourselves yet… I’m Steve, and this here is my cellmate— uh, friend— Barnes.”

“But you can call me Bucky, dollface,” the man behind you added with a little smile that you could hear and feel with him pressing up so close to your face.

“See, he and I just came from an awful, terrible place—”

“I know where you came from,” you cut him off with a snarl.  “You’re criminals!  You’re scum!”

Bucky just laughed and held you tighter until your arms started to ache from struggling against him.  

“Hey now, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve corrected firmly— not angry, but stern.  “I was framed, I served seven years for something I didn’t do.  You’re innocent, too, right Barnes?”

“No,” he instantly answered, making Steve look disappointed.  “Oh, uh, sure.  Yeah, I was framed.  Real sob story,” he suddenly decided, not sounding like he was trying that hard to convince you.

“Point is, we were all alone for a long, long time, and we thought maybe you’d wanna be nice and take care of us, huh?” Steve offered.

“Fuck you,” you hissed.

“That’s sort of the idea,” Bucky whispered playfully.

“Let me go,” you demanded as Steve’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared, anger finally coming out when he suddenly grabbed your chin and held your face to look up at him.

“Let me make one thing very fucking clear,” he explained, nearly whispering so you were forced to stay still and quiet to hear him.  “You don’t get to pick what you want.  But you get to pick if you’re gonna make this easy, or difficult.”

You spat in his face; he slapped you for that, so hard that your ears rang for a moment while he grimaced and wiped his face with his sleeve.

“Difficult it is,” he announced with ill-restrained loathing, coming even closer as Bucky covered your mouth again to muffle your screams of protest.  “Buck, I’m goin’ first.”

“Fuck you, pal, I was in longer and I saw her first,” Bucky replied frustratedly.  “I’m not gonna take long anyway, you can go after me.”

“I just got spit in my face!” Steve reminded him.  “And the breakout was my idea!”

“Your idea?!” Bucky repeated incredulously.  “What, you think you’re the first guy to think ‘hey, what if we just left prison?’ because trust me, if it wasn’t for my screwdriver—”

Their argument caused Bucky’s focus to slip, that must have been why the hand on your mouth loosened and you could speak again.

"You won't get away with this, my father's a sheriff!" you yelped, interrupting their negotiation.

They both laughed darkly and you instantly regretted saying it.

"Oh, sweetheart, your old man's a cop?  That's too bad,” Steve sighed.  “You know what they say: sins of the father…"

"Fuck the daughter,” Bucky finished with a cold, hollow laugh as he suddenly bit down on your ear making you wince and shudder, tears streaming down your cheeks already.

He tossed you down and pinned you to the ground, his strong, heavy body on top of yours knocking the wind out of you as he began to tear at your clothes and, annoyingly, not seeming to find them much trouble at all.  You whimpered when you felt your pants torn down your legs, hating how exposed and vulnerable you felt, hating the undeniable fact that you couldn’t stop this.

You tried to get up when he reached down to open his belt and jeans, but Steve’s boot came down on your shoulder and held you still again.  Bucky was rushed and brutal as he pushed his pants down and pressed his cock against your ass, guiding it between your legs as you hissed and tried not to think about what was about to happen.

He pulled back briefly to spit on your hole, spreading the forced wetness with the head of his cock before suddenly pushing into you as you gasped and choked on a sob.

"Oh, that's it baby,” he groaned, “scream if you want, nobody can hear you but us."

Already he was thrusting with wild abandon, his hips slapping into your ass as his hot breath came down against your ear and neck, his face pressing yours into the cold ground.

"Fuuuuuck,” he moaned lowly, “so tight, Jesus Christ… fuckin' missed this, went almost ten years without burying my cock in a wet little cunt like this.  Shit, it's even better than I remember."

You just cried and bit down on nothing, pain making violent shivers run up your spine as the width of him split you open, pushing deeper than you’d known anything could go.

Each thrust seemed somehow rougher and deeper than the last, pushing you further past your limits, making your toes curl inside your boots.  He was unabashedly using your body, treating you with less care than some men might a blow-up doll, moaning loudly as he split you open with every moment.

So why did it almost begin to feel good, now that the worst of the pain had faded?  Why was the ridge of his cock brushing over your g-spot just right each time he moved?

He pinned more of his weight on you as he changed his angle slightly, enough to add just that much more brutality to every stroke, the loud slapping of skin echoing through the desolate trees.  You could tell he wasn’t lying about how long he’d been celibate in prison, because he fucked you with every ounce of pent-up frustration, hissing through his teeth and holding you tight enough to bruise.

Everything he did, he did enough to bruise.

“Yeah, take it, bitch,” he moaned when you made a particularly pained noise.

“I thought you said you weren’t gonna take long,” Steve remembered, staring down at the two of you from where he was leaning against a tree with his arms crossed.  

“I’m almost done, you waited this long you can wait five more minutes,” Bucky dismissed, voice a little strained as he kept fucking you.

“Just stop and give me a turn and then you can get back to it,” Steve suggested.

“Nah, no fuckin’ way,” Bucky laughed, “feels way too good to stop.  Trust me, Stevie, this pussy’s worth the wait.”

“Get her on her knees then,” Steve instructed as he came closer to you and kneeled in front of your face; Bucky manhandled your hips into place while Steve pulled your hair until you yelped and brought your head up.  “I wanna fuck this pretty little throat.”

He cut off your protests with another hard slap to your cheek, tugging your hair again as you struggled to hold yourself up on shaking arms.

“Gonna teach this mouthy bitch a lesson,” he explained as he hit you again before using one hand to open his belt and jeans.  “You know what’s gonna happen if you try to bite me, right?  I’ll just knock you out and fuck your throat anyways.  So you’d better make it good if you wanna breathe.”

You tried your best to nod with his fist tugging your hair, gasping slightly when he pulled his cock out and stroked it right in front of your face.  

“Come on, baby, open up— this is the most you’ve kept your mouth shut all day,” he laughed, tapping the swollen head of his cock on your lips until you finally opened them.  The flavor of his skin on your tongue made your lips curl in disgust but he held your jaw and pushed deeper, quickly hitting the back of your throat.  “Fuck, so warm… come on, suck it, make it good for me.”

“She’s gettin’ wet,” Bucky informed Steve with a chuckle.  “She likes it— don’t you, little whore?” he prompted as he slapped your ass suddenly, making you cry out around Steve’s length.  “You like choking on a cock like you deserve?”

You made some sort of gurgling sound, and apparently they took it as a ‘yes.’

"Aw yeah, fuck, gonna fill up this little cunt,” Bucky promised.  Funny thing is, you weren't sure if "this little cunt" meant your hole, or you.

“You’d better not, m’supposed to go after you,” Steve reminded him.

“Fuck, I dunno if I have the heart to pull out,” Bucky admitted with a laugh, slapping you on the ass to make your walls suddenly clench around him.  “I know a sweet body like this just needs to be bred.”

Your sob was louder around where Steve’s girth stretched your lips, making Bucky laugh darkly.

"Oh shit honey, what would Daddy Sherriff say if he found out you got knocked up by a couple'a criminals, huh?  By murderers?"

Steve pulled his cock out just enough to let you sob weakly before shoving back in and penetrating your throat.

"Yeah, you like it don't you?” Bucky continued to taunt you.  “You like being bred by some strangers who caught you in the woods… dirty bitch."

Steve's head fell back as he started to thrust into your mouth faster and harder, the base of his cock flexing against your tongue.  You assumed it was a sign that he was close and it made you hopeful that this would be over soon, but he suddenly pulled out with an exhausted laugh.

"Oh no you don't," he breathed, "not gonna come yet, still need to feel that tight little pussy of yours… if Bucky would hurry the fuck up."

"Fuck, I'm close, I'm close," Bucky rasped.  "Shit, babydoll, this wet cunt is gonna make me come, aren't you so proud?"

Steve held your mouth open and rubbed his cock on your tongue, occasionally shoving two fingers in with it which were salty with his sweat. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck," Bucky hissed, "oh god, fuck, I'm—!"

He pulled out suddenly, rubbing his cock against your clit as his seed shot onto the ground beneath you.  You sighed with relief although you hated the way your body was actually disappointed, craving more and clenching around nothing in protest.

Bucky was hardly even finished when Steve reached under your arms to pull you up and flip you onto your back, groaning as he settled between your legs and rubbed his cock over your folds.  He didn't waste any time pushing into you, and apparently being fucked by Bucky wasn't enough to warm you up for Steve because you hissed at the sting as he filled you.

"Fuck," Steve mumbled as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them down beside your head.  Already he had begun to pull back only to spear into you again, reaching deeper inside you than Bucky had until you were gasping and choking on nothing.

Bucky stood up and stepped back, pulling his jeans up as he watched you two on the ground.

"You got any cigarettes back at camp, sweetheart?" Bucky asked you, and it was hard to focus on his question but you shook your head.  "Damn," he breathed, pondering for a moment before coming up with his next question.  "You got any candy bars?"

"Do you mind?" Steve hissed, still thrusting into you— a bit slower than Bucky but not exactly more gentle.  "We're kind of busy here."

"No, I don't particularly mind," Bucky smirked.

"Can't you just entertain yourself for a few minutes while I finish this?"

"Why should I entertain myself when I've got this pretty little thing to entertain me?" Bucky smirked, kneeling down beside you as Steve buried his face in the crook of your neck.  "Wanna help me out here, dollface?  I'm still hard…"

He freed one hand from Steve's grip and brought it up to the front of his jeans so you could feel the hard bulge there.  He opened them for you, reaching in and pulling his hard cock out to wrap your hand around it.

Feeling the thickness of it in your palm now, you couldn't imagine how it ever fit inside you.

"Yeah, that's it, I'll teach you how to stroke it right…" he groaned.  "You know how many times I had to do this to myself, just imagining claiming a little slut like you?  Your hands are so much softer, sweetheart…"

His hand tightened around yours and guided every movement, which was good because you had no chance of focusing on anything while Steve was slamming into you and moaning right by your ear.

"So wet," he whispered to you, "so warm.  All mine…"

You felt your insides grip him harder and he smiled, lips tickling your sensitive skin.

"Yeah, you like bein' mine.  You like being owned, I can feel it.  I can feel that this is exactly what you needed.  Is that what you were hoping for when you came out to these woods all by yourself?  That a big strong man would show up and stretch out this pussy?  Well I'm here now, angel, and I'm just about ready to fill you up real good."

A few more thrusts, faster and harder than ever, were enough to send Steve over the edge as you felt each pulse warm you from the inside out.  Steve groaned loudly and buried himself as deep as he could possibly go, painting his come right onto your cervix while you gasped at the sensation.

Bucky stopped moving your hand and looked down at Steve.  "Are you fucking serious— did you just come inside?"

Steve took a moment to catch his breath before answering: "duh."

"How come you get to come inside but I don't, huh?"

"Cause I went second!"

"Yeah, that's some bullshit," Bucky scoffed.

"Will you just leave now, please?" you whimpered weakly from the ground.  "You got what you wanted, now just go."

"Oh, sweetheart, we are nowhere near done with you," Steve promised, sighing as he pulled out of you slowly.

You wanted to try to get up, but your limbs were weak and numb, and your head heavy with confusion.  It made it easy for Bucky to scoop you up and carry you back the way you'd run, your tent quickly coming into view which made you realize how pitifully short your chase had been.

“Looks big enough for the three of us,” Steve noted as he tilted his head to look at your camp.

“We’re not going in yet, I think somebody needs a little creek bath first,” Bucky smiled as he started to set you down on your shaky legs.  “Go ahead and strip, doll.”

You shivered, considering resistance but deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble as you started to peel off your shirt and jacket, then your boots and slightly torn leggings.

They both smiled and watched you, Bucky snorted a little when he saw how hard your nipples were.  “It’s chilly,” you defended meekly.

“Sure it is,” he nodded, “don’t stop, get in the water when you’re done.”

You nodded slightly as you tossed the clothes aside, trying to cover yourself with your arms as you slowly walked into the stony creek, wishing the water weren’t so clear so it would cover you better.

You made a weak attempt to clean yourself, watching goosebumps cover your skin from the cool water.

"Wash yourself up good,” Bucky instructed firmly.  “I don't want any of Rogers' jizz still in you when I take that pussy again."

With a grimace, you washed between your legs and winced when your touch reawakened the sting of soreness there.

“You’re gonna have to push it out, honey, it’s real deep,” Steve grinned pridefully.

You did your best to clean up, not for Bucky’s benefit but for your own, because you hated how it felt to have Steve’s spend still within you.

“How am I supposed to dry off?” you asked nervously as you looked around, knowing you hadn’t brought a towel as you hadn’t really planned on a full creek bath during your trip.  You hadn’t planned on any of this during your trip, shockingly enough.

“You can drip dry,” Steve suggested.

“So you want me to stand naked in the cold for an hour while I dry?” you realized, irritated but still scared.

“Something like that,” Bucky confirmed.  “Unless you want us to keep you warm…”

“I’ll freeze,” you decided, stepping out of the water as Bucky snatched your clothes away to make sure you couldn’t dress.  “Gimme those!”

“Come and get ‘em,” he challenged, leaving you to huff and cross your arms, teeth chattering as the wind picked up.

You couldn’t imagine why they cared so much about testing your will when they’d already proven that they could take you however they wanted.  Perhaps it was just that they wanted to know you’d accepted that.  Better yet, they probably hoped you would participate willingly if you understood that you never had a choice.

Closing your eyes didn’t help, you could still feel their hungry gaze on you; rubbing yourself with your hands didn’t help because it just spread the cold water around on your skin, rather than actually warming you up.

It was probably less than a minute but it felt like half an hour before you relented, walking up to Bucky and looking down to avoid his stare as you meekly requested, “can I have my clothes, please?”

“But I can think of so many better ways to keep you warm,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you, Steve moving behind you to press his chest against your back.  You sighed with relief because even this was already making you feel better,  the warmth of their bodies taking out some of the chill while their size blocked you from the wind.  You mewled, ever so quietly, when you felt Bucky’s lips on your neck, your eyes falling shut as your head fell back onto Steve’s chest.  

They showered you in gentle touches and teasing kisses as they picked you up and carried you into your tent, the small space beginning to warm quickly with the heat of three people inside— or was it just you that was getting hot from what they were doing to you.

Steve was groping your tits and pinching your hardened nipples, while Bucky focused most on sucking your neck or biting just beneath your ear.  It was overwhelming, and impossible to ignore though you wanted so desperately not to be aroused.  There were only four hands exploring your body but it might as well have been a hundred because you couldn’t tell the difference, they were touching you everywhere all at once.

"Now, are you gonna behave or do we need to tie you up?" Steve asked quietly.

You shook your head wildly, tensing up just imagining that.  "Then say it," he instructed.

"I-I'll be good," you promised weakly.

Bucky grinned and slid his hand up your thigh, and though you didn’t mean to, when Bucky reached between your legs you tried to shut them and squirm away, it was instinct.

"Ah ah ah," Steve tutted.  "You said you'd be good."

"Think we oughta tie her up," Bucky nodded, feigning disappointment.

"No, please, I'm sorry—"

"Too late for sorry, dollface," Bucky smirked, grabbing a shirt from your pack and tearing it into strips like it was no effort at all.  

Steve held your wrists together for Bucky to tie, and they even tied your legs up bent and spread wide, finishing it off with a gag in your mouth.

Now you were helpless to Bucky pinching your clit, circling it with his thick and calloused finger, applying pressure to it until your eyes watered.  At first it was exploratory, delicate, but once he’d found the most sensitive places he began to rub your clit hard and fast, laughing every time you moaned and flicking the sensitive bud to make your body jolt.

"Yeah, this little cunt's getting all wet, y'like having your pussy played with?" he smirked.

He accentuated his question with a few sudden spanks to your clit that made you jerk and yelp.  The worst thing was that each slap made a wet sound that made you sure you were soaking by now.

“I know you want it so bad, don’t worry doll, I’m not gonna make you wait anymore…”

He caged you in and opened his jeans one more time, the process going much more quickly since he didn’t have to hold you down— you could squirm and cry, but that was about it.  

With a little grunt, he pushed into you, and with how wet you were it actually went it much more easily.  It was by no means painless though, especially since he was already moving and giving you no time to adjust.

"Yeah, that's better," he sighed, grinning as he watched you whine into the gag.  "Now I can really take my time with you, show you how good I can make you feel."

He was certainly more relaxed than the first time, his pace measured and calculated as he made sure his hips met with yours fully at the end of each stroke.  His width wasn’t as challenging in this position but his length certainly was, bumping into your sore and delicate cervix until you were forced to bite down onto the gag to cope.

But, in spite of the pain, or perhaps because of it, something deep and strong was forming inside you, tightening and twisting until it took all your effort not to let it spill forth.

He reached down and roughly rubbed your clit again, forcing a muffled scream from your throat as he grinned down at you.  “Close already, huh?  Good to know I haven’t lost my touch after all these years.”

You almost heard Steve scoff beside you, but it was hard to hear anything when your ears felt like they were full of cotton, only your own echoing heartbeat ringing louder than anything else.

"Yeah, I wanna feel you fuckin' come,” Bucky growled.  “Bet you get even tighter every time."

As much as you wished not to, you fell over the edge, back arching until your chest bumped into Bucky’s where he hovered above you.  He coaxed you along in his words and movements, your walls clenching in a nonsensical rhythm.  More than anything you just wished he would stop moving so you could catch your breath, but his pace never faltered and it felt like you’d never stop coming if he never stopped fucking you.

“That’s it, good fucking girl,” he groaned, “makin’ you feel so good, aren’t I?  Answer me.”

You hesitated, and sniffled, but finally nodded.

Even worse, your clit was so swollen now that he didn’t even need to rub it with his thumb anymore; his cock rubbed against it with each movement, the ridges of his shaft massaging you there until it felt like every part of your body had become the most sensitive place possible.  You shook violently beneath him, each wave of pleasure stronger than the last until you felt like you had lost all sense of time, and space, and really anything that wasn’t being fucked in this tent like the fate of the world depended on it.

"Get outta the tent, Steve,” Bucky instructed suddenly.

"Why?" Steve protested with a scoff.

"I can't come with you starin' at me!"

"I'm not looking at you, dumbass,” he sneered, “I'm lookin’ at her.  So pretty when she cries…"

"Whatever, either way, just go outside please?" 

Clearly irritated but relenting anyways, Steve grunted under his breath as he got up, stepping unceremoniously over both of you.  Bucky sighed with relief when Steve zipped the tent flap shut behind him, turning his attention back to you.  “That’s better, isn’t it?  Just me and you… way it oughta be.”

“I heard that!” Steve called from outside.

“Then stop listening!” Bucky suggested through his teeth before leaning down to whisper in your ear, holding your hips tight so he could fuck you harder than ever.  "I don't give a fuck what he says, I'm coming in you this time.  Not pulling out until I know every drop is in you, wanna see this pussy stuffed to the brim with my come… you want it too, huh?”

Another electrifying pulse inside you made your channel flutter around him, and how cruel that the moan he made actually turned you on more.

"Fuck, that's it, squeeze my fuckin' dick, honey.  Wanna milk all the come outta my cock, don't you?"

You nodded again, hearing him moan in that perfect way one more time before you started to feel him pulse and swell within you, streams of hot come pouring into you.  The amount was pretty impressive since he’d already come once, although you didn’t exactly feel ‘impressed,’ so much as horrified and confused.  And numb, from coming so many times.

Bucky smiled down at you with an exhausted sigh, smacking you lightly on the face a few times to try to rouse you from your blissed-out state, but all you could do was hum sleepily into the gag.

“M’gonna untie you now, you’re too out of it to try anything,” he explained, releasing the gag first before working on your wrists and your legs.  A rush of warm come oozed out of your abused hole when he pulled back, making your face heat up as he smiled and held your legs up to see it better.  “Yeah, filled you up real nice,” he informed you.  He gave a reassuring pat to your thigh before getting up and getting out of the tent, leaving you to stare blankly into nothingness for a while.

Eventually, you knew you had to face the world again, though you were more sure than ever that you weren’t prepared for it.  Grabbing a blanket from the floor of the tent and covering yourself with it, you took a slow breath to try to stabilize yourself.

For how slow time seemed to have passed so far, you were surprised to see the sun setting when you opened the tent flap and stepped outside.  You realized, with a sick feeling in your chest, that they had been using you nearly all day now.  And considering they were waiting for you around the fire, giving you a glance up and down as you emerged from the tent, they still might not stop for a while.

In fact, they’d made themselves very comfortable from the looks of it.  The fire was burning stronger than ever, three logs positioned around the sides of the firepit to sit on; a pot was over the fire, and you recognized the contents as some of the food supplies from your pack.  Best of all, Steve had found your battery radio and adjusted the station, blues quietly playing from the speaker as he used your hunting knife to whittle a stick.

Serves you right to suffer, the smooth voice crooned from the broadcast, serves you right to be alone...

For a moment, the three of you sat in silence as you took in the scene.  But when the wind changed and the heat of the fire no longer reached you, you remembered you had business to attend to.  

“C-Can I have my clothes back now?” you asked Bucky quietly, seeing them draped over the side of one of the logs.

“I think if you get dressed you’ll try to run again,” Steve mumbled, not even looking up at you.

“No, I won’t, I’m too tired,” you explained.  “I just don’t want to be cold.”

“Fire’s hot enough,” Bucky dismissed.  “Why don’t you just lay down a while, hm?  Get some rest.  You earned it.”

You weren’t just tired physically, but mentally, which is partly why you didn’t put up more of a fight before going over to the log and laying beside it, the blanket around you protecting you from the cold ground while you used your clothes as a sort of pillow on the log.

It couldn’t have been that you were asleep, because you could still hear the fire and the radio and Steve’s whittling (a constant reminder that he had a knife), but with your eyes closed and the darkness getting darker it was almost like sleep.  A draining, restless sleep that did nothing to shelter you from the memories of what you’d become.

So, you opened your eyes, staring into the flames instead and venturing the occasional glance at Bucky or Steve; the former always met your stare, the latter would only look up if a sound got his attention.

“You gonna take a turn?” Bucky asked Steve casually, motioning to you by cocking his head.

“Not yet, need a while to... you know, build up some energy,” Steve explained.

“Mind if I have another go then?”

“She’s all yours,” Steve approved, making Bucky grin as he got up and circled the log you were slumped over.  

“Y’hear that, dollface?  All mine,” he cooed, picking you up and adjusting you until you were bent over the log, facing Steve and the fire.  Your clothes kept your naked torso from rubbing against the bark, thankfully, but nothing could spare you from Bucky’s incessant touch, running up your back, over your butt which he spanked a few times for good measure, and finally to your entrance which he pushed two fingers into first.  “Mm, we stretched you out pretty good… you’ll be back in shape by the mornin’, but until then, I just slide right in…”

And he proved himself right with one long stroke that pushed his cock to the deepest parts of you, pushing your hips forward into the log as you tried your best to keep your breathing steady.

He was uniquely quiet this time, still moaning and grunting occasionally but otherwise sparing you from the constant taunts and filthy whispers.  Steve, meanwhile, was doing his best to look unaffected, but the subtle adjustment of his legs along with the increased vigor of his carving made it clear he was distracted by the sight in front of him.

Bucky’s strong hands on your hips were sure to leave marks, fingertips digging into your curves and pulling you back onto him, spearing you on his length.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he sighed, “gonna come.”

And it was actually a relief because this was going to end (for now), which was definitely the only reason you moaned in response.  He got more talkative after that, smacking you on the ass a few more times as he chuckled darkly behind you. 

“Fuck, take it, doll… take all my fuckin’ come.”

It was sort of a meaningless instruction, since you had to, but he seemed to enjoy reminding you that he was about to take his pleasure from your body one more time.  He made a weak little moaning noise, almost pained, as he filled you once again, slumping down on top of you and for the first time really showing signs of exhaustion after coming three times in a day.  You were so out of it that you hardly noticed his weight on you, or the little kisses he gave to your ear, whispering praises that tried your best not to hear.  

He pulled out and came back around to look at your face again, pulling you up slightly by your hair so you looked up at him.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he groaned.  “Open your mouth sweetheart,” he instructed, spitting onto your tongue as soon as you’d done it, then lifting your jaw to make you close your mouth and swallow.

He tugged your hair harder before he kissed you, more possessive than affectionate, but unexpected regardless.  His tongue tangled with yours as he reached down to circle his hand around your neck, feeling your pulse but not going so far as to choke you.

A little groan from Steve caught both his attention and yours.  "You wanna fuck her, Stevie?"

"Oh god, I want that ass, I want that fuckin ass," he answered through his teeth, making you gulp as Bucky laughed.

"Go for it, man," he encouraged, and only a second after he stood up you both heard and felt Steve appear behind you, one calloused hand spreading your cheeks; you whimpered from embarrassment when you felt a finger circle your tight rim, before slowly pushing in.

"Fuck," you whispered, and it sounded much more like a curse of pleasure than you intended.

"Yeah, you want it don't you?" he asked through his teeth, giving you a hard spank that made you cry out.  Bucky slapped you when you didn't answer, grabbing your jaw roughly.

"He asked you a question," he reminded you firmly, the sound of Steve spitting into his hand and coating your hole and his length distracting you slightly.

"Yes, yes, I want it!" you sobbed.

"Where?"

"In my ass!"

Your body put up significant resistance against his swollen head, but it was no match for his rough thrust forward, the tip of him popping inside and stretching you painfully.  You bit your lip but it was impossible to stay quiet when he slid the rest of the way in.

You cried out as he moaned with satisfaction, already moving so much faster than you could handle (which, to be fair, was a low bar).

"Oh my god," he breathed.  "So fuckin' tight…"

The pain was sharp, and it felt like the base of his cock was impossibly thicker than the rest of him since you whined every time he pushed in.

"Aw, does it hurt baby?  That's my cock ruining your little hole, sweetheart…"

"Stop," you rasped, "please… please stop…"

"Nah, I think you like it… I think what you really needed was just to be put in your place, fucked in every hole so you know exactly what you're meant for."

Bucky appeared in front of you again, stroking himself in front of your face, still slick from behind inside you.

"See what a mess you made on my cock, dollface?  I think you need to help me clean it up," he groaned, holding your jaw open to stuff his cock into your mouth and stifle your sobs.  The taste of your and his come was potent and musky on your tongue, his head pushing right into your open throat when you tried to gag.

Steve held you tighter as he thrusted a bit more vigorously, Bucky simultaneously using your throat as he stroked your hair and cheek.  

You couldn’t remember how to do anything but just take it now.  At times their paces synchronized and you felt like you were being filled to the brim at both ends.  Other times they were in a syncopation where one pushed in just as the other pulled out, meaning you had no real breaks at all.

Bucky was too weak to come again, that much was obvious, but he was happy to choke you anyways; and Steve, well, Steve was moaning more now than he had from your mouth or pussy, apparently trying to hold himself back even though he had no reason to try to prolong this— unless he actually wanted to see you in pain more than he wanted to finish?

“You want me to come in your ass?” Steve interrogated you with a spank to your thigh.  “Beg for it.”

You shook your head around the length in your mouth.

“It doesn’t stop until you beg me for it, isn’t that what you want?  You want it to stop, right?”

Had you really fallen into his trap that easily?  

Bucky pulled back to give you the opportunity to meet Steve’s request, and you sucked in a lungful of air before finally whimpering: “Please, Steve… please come…”

“Where?” he pressed, ever-determined to make you remind him where he was fucking you.

“Please come in my ass…”

“If you say so, sweetheart,” he snickered before starting to thrust faster and more erratically, chasing his peak which you prayed was close.  It was, thankfully, though never close enough, and you forgot that the swell of his pulsating cock would stretch your tired hole even wider.

And, you forgot that he had no reason to pull out just because he’d come.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “that was good.”

You tried to kick him away but it was impossible with how hard he’d pinned you down to the log.

“Just stay still and keep my cock warm in this pretty ass of yours, alright?” he instructed, all the while Bucky stared down at you with a satisfied smirk on his face, combing your hair a bit with his fingers.

“You’re tired, huh?” he noticed.  “We’ll get you to bed soon.”

“Will you leave?” you instantly returned.

“We need somewhere to make camp for the night, too.  And since there’s already a perfectly good camp right here…”

“No,” you whined, “no, you’re never gonna leave me alone, are you?”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning, alright?” he offered.

//

It was truly a testament to how physically exhausted you were that you managed to fall asleep squished between your two personal monsters.

Bucky was behind you, essentially spooning you while Steve had an arm draped over your chest.  And even with the heavy weight on you, physical and metaphysical, you would’ve slept through the night easily if it weren’t for the feeling of Steve running his hands over your body, groping you wherever he could reach.

You opened your eyes but it was still pitch darkness, giving you no distraction from the physical sensations of Steve's fingers delicately grazing over your skin.  Behind you, the quiet stability of Bucky’s breathing made it clear he was still asleep and unaware.

“Steve,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Shh,” he soothed below his breath, right by your ear.  “He sleeps like a rock, we’re not gonna wake him up with a little fooling around.”  

Amazingly enough, that wasn’t exactly what you were worried about.  But you discontinued your dissent as he lightly suckled the lobe of your ear, fingers tracing abstract shapes over your hip.  You heard your own breath catch, and he must have too because he smiled and nibbled on your neck.

You shivered when he started to pull you closer, laying you back to reach between your legs and toy with your overly-sensitive folds.  His fingers found your clit and rubbed it in slow circles, making you writhe and jolt as shocks of pleasure shot through you.

“So sensitive,” he praised darkly, pushing against you harder.  “Gettin’ wet, honey?  Want you dripping before I put my cock in you.”

Bucky stirred beside you, pulling you closer in his sleep though Steve kept a strong hold on your lower half.  It was nearly claustrophobic being sandwiched between them like this, made even worse when Steve adjusted your hips and you felt his cock rub against you.

“Tell me you want it,” he whispered in your ear, cradling your face in his large, rough hands.

“I— I want it,” you whispered back, biting your lip to stay quiet when he pushed in.  You were still sore, but the wetness helped ease his way as he filled you to the brim, groaning softly and thrusting much more gently than you expected.  It was all very relaxed, and languid, and… sleepy.  It was so much easier to pretend that you wanted this when it was gentle and patient like this, when you couldn’t see his face

“You two got started without me?” Bucky interjected, making you both gasp.   

"You seemed pretty busy snoring over there," Steve explained with an unamused tone.  “You know, Barnes, I actually broke out of prison so I wouldn’t have to sleep in the same room as you for the rest of my life.”

“Leave if you want, Rogers, I’ll keep the girl and you can take her battery radio, ya limpdick.”

“Limpdick?  Were you not here for the past twenty-four hours?” 

“Yeah, I was fucking this sweet little thing while you were out there by the fire doing your arts and crafts.”

And just like that, your sweet and gentle sex was gone; Steve was determined to claim you now, fucking you harder and faster until you couldn’t hold back your broken moans.  "Yeah, you like that?" he growled against your ear.  "You like gettin' fucked?  Say it."

"Y-yes, I like it," you gasped.

"We're gonna be on the run for a while…" Bucky mumbled against your skin as he kissed your shoulder, "sure wouldn't mind takin' you with us, keeping our own little pet to fuck whenever we want."

You tried not to stop breathing entirely when he said that, distracted by Steve slowing down slightly, offering some reprieve.

"Been so long without touchin' a woman," Steve added huskily, "I don't know if one day is enough."

"Yeah, plus we've already got you obedient, trained, fucked braindead and full of come," Bucky replied, biting down on your skin to make you whimper and he chuckled happily.

"Are you sure you can share, Barnes?" Steve pressed.  "I know if you had it your way she'd be ripped to shreds by now."

"Whatever man, you're the one who tore her ass up."

Steve scoffed slightly, while Bucky continued.

"You wanna come with us sweetheart?  We'll be real good to you, keep your holes wet and full for a couple months straight at least.  You won't have to worry about a thing, won't have to lift a finger, just keep your legs spread and you'll be peachy."

"Hey, that's what we'll call you: Peach," Steve decided.  "It's perfect, isn't it?  'Cause you're sweet… and soft… and I could just eat you up," he purred.

"Wanna be our girl, Peach?" Bucky prompted.

"No, please…"

You expected anger, you expected them to hurt you, but you didn't expect them to laugh.  "Looks like our sweet little Peach hasn't had a chance to realize how good it's gonna be with us," Steve announced.  

"Yeah, let's show her how much she wants to be our girl," Bucky snickered, holding your hips as Steve started to move inside you again.

Bucky, meanwhile, was grabbing handfuls of your ass and groaning as he rubbed his cock against you.  One finger explored your rim and slowly pushed in.

"Looks like you're still a little loosened up from when Stevie here gave it to you, huh?  He was real mean, wasn't he?"

You nodded, clutching harder into Steve's chest as he fucked you faster.

"Then taking me should be a breeze."

Truly, you had no idea how this was possible.  I'm the dark it all felt like a fever dream, but when Bucky pushed into your available opening while Steve was still fucking you… it was definitely real, the feeling was too overwhelming not to be.

'A breeze' was definitely an exaggeration but it was undeniably easier, especially since being half-asleep made your body so much more relaxed.  You still hissed when Bucky's hips met your ass, you still choked on a breath at the feeling of two cocks buried all the way inside you, but it wasn't from pain as much as being full beyond your wildest dreams

"You were right about this ass, Rogers, goddamn…" Bucky moaned, holding your hips tight and beginning to thrust.

"Fuck, can hardly believe you're takin' both of us," Steve sighed against your ear.  "I know you love it, Peach, I know you love bein' so full…"

Your lips fumbled with the desire to moan a name but not sure whose to say; so instead you just babbled mindlessly, sounded just as dumbfounded as you felt.

But they weren't having any problems speaking, in fact they were more talkative than ever, each whispering in a different ear and making shivers crawl up your spine with every word.

"You're making us feel so good, such a good girl, aren't you Peachy baby?"

"Such a perfect fucking whore, so wet already just from being used."

"Want us to come inside, huh Peach?  Wanna be full of come?”

Each time you arched your back, it only somehow pushed them both deeper, so deep you couldn’t think about anything else anymore.  Bucky was moving at a much slower pace than Steve, such that they would only occasionally thrust all the way in at exactly the same time— and when they did, you heard yourself moan but refused to believe it was you making the sound because it sounded nothing like you, it didn’t even seem like something you would do; enjoying this that much, that is.

“You’re close, huh?  Gonna come for both of us?”

You found yourself nodding, even though they couldn’t see it, but Bucky must have felt it against his shoulder because he laughed a little, grabbing your face and turning you back to kiss you hungrily.  When he moved his kiss down to the back of your neck, Steve captured your lips instead, less dominating than Bucky’s but no less intense.  The moan that undeniably signalled your orgasm was nearly lost against Steve’s tongue, but they both heard it and began to pump into you faster, keeping you suspended in your pleasure.

Steve lost it first, spilling into you with a choked groan and a tight grip on your arms that was sure to bruise.  Bucky was close behind, panting with each hurried thrust until he finally moaned and filled your ass with ropes of hot come, a sensation you never could’ve imagined, let alone predicted you would experience twice in one day.

Bucky rubbed your thighs while he caught his breath while Steve peppered your face in tender kisses, both of them showering you in affection you had no idea how to handle.

“Whaddaya say, dollface?” Bucky prompted as he kissed just beneath your ear.  “Y’like bein’ our little Peach, don’t you?”

You stammered over a few different responses, none of them very good, until Steve finally instructed you: “say yes.”

“Yes,” you repeated instantly.

“I can tell you do, you soaked my cock real good,” Steve praised with a grin you could feel against your cheek and hear in his gravelly voice.  “We’ll head out in the morning, alright?  Soon we’ll be somewhere where nobody knows who we are, what we’ve done… doesn’t that sound nice, Peach?  A chance to start over?”

A fresh start never hurt anyone, right?

//

Months on the run made the night all blend together, you didn’t even know what state you were in anymore and you couldn’t find the energy to care.

It was definitely harder to hitchhike with three people, and a disturbing amount of truckers offered to take you alone but not your companions— and obviously they would never allow such a thing.  At this point, you were better off with the devils you knew, anyways.  At least with them you knew what to expect.

Specifically, you could expect Steve to be aloof and brooding until he occasionally snapped and became possessive over you again, asserting his dominance over you and Bucky however he could manage— usually by covering your body in his marks and every once in a while by covering your face with his come.  You could expect Bucky to taunt and mock you, cornering you into consenting to his relentless barrage of pleasure and pain, over and over again watching you struggle to maintain your sense of denial and disgust, reminding you that you loved being fucked just how he wanted.

In fact, today was a pretty typical day while the three of you crashed in a motel, Steve staying silent and distant while Bucky kissed his way down your stomach that rose and fell shakily with each breath.

“Bucky, p-please,” you whispered, closing your eyes so you could more easily pretend it wasn’t you begging him for more.

"What's that, Peach?  Want me to lick up your juice?" he grinned.

You shuddered and he chuckled as he knelt down between your legs to give a long, slow lick over your sex.  Your entire body jolted when his rough tongue slid over your swollen clit, so he focused there until your legs were quivering and your head fell back.  

"Mm, so sweet…” he cooed.  “Come getta taste a’this, Steve.”

“I’m busy,” Steve refused, turning the page of his newspaper.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Bucky sighed, standing up straighter and leaving your pussy ignored; you whined a little, but it fell on deaf ears.  “I’d love to see what you’re reading that could possibly be more interesting than this.”

“There’s an article about us,” Steve answered sternly, looking up from the paper to meet Bucky’s gaze, before glancing to look at you.  “All three of us.”

Bucky huffed and stood up, leaving you naked on the bed as he crossed the room to tear the paper from Steve’s hands.  His eyes scanned the page until he landed on the part Steve must have been referring to.  “Holy shit,” he breathed.  “Look, Peach, you made the papers!”

He brought over the article for you to read, and you sat up straighter when you saw that a photo of yourself had been included alongside the mugshots of Steve and Bucky.

Two escaped prisoners, one missing woman, spotted in woods near Schenectady, NY...

“When is this from?” you asked nervously.

“The paper’s from today, but we were in Schenectady two weeks ago,” Steve explained.  “They aren’t anywhere near us.”

It brought back memories of TV broadcasts you’d seen in hotels, radio news Steve had turned off before you heard too much.  Phrases like ‘statewide manhunt,’ ‘federal investigation,’ and ‘trafficked woman,’ which had once been foreign to you, now represented your deepest anxieties.

Bucky saw the fear on your face and knelt down on the bed beside you, stroking your face gently.  “Aw, Peach, don’t be scared… they’re not gonna find us, I promise.”

“If they did… what would happen to me?” you asked weakly.  You truly had no idea if you’d be returned home and treated as the victim of a crime, or if you’d be arrested and charged as a perpetrator, as a collaborator who aided in the escape and continued flee of two violent criminals.  They’d already gotten you in on a few robberies, even one bank— could you defend yourself by saying that you were forced to do it?  

“Nobody’s gonna take you away from us,” Bucky assured sternly, not quite answering your question but making it clear that was all you were gonna get.  You reached up to rest your hand atop his where it held your cheek, letting your watery eyes fall shut before you looked back up into his enrapturing gaze again.

“Kiss me, Bucky, please,” you whispered, making him laugh and shake his head.

“No, Peachy, I would but I know where that mouth has been.  Steve woke you up in the middle of the night to choke on his cock, thought I wouldn’t hear, huh?”

You gasped a little and Steve crossed his arms where he sat in the chair.  Bucky turned his attention back to Steve with a look of challenge on his face.  “She’s scared, Stevie, won’t you come over here and make her feel better?”

Steve sighed but relented and stood up, crossing the room to stand beside the bed and stare down at you.  For a moment you didn’t know what he intended to do, until he knelt down and grabbed your hips, pulled your spread legs closer to the edge of the bed where he latched his lips onto your slick and swollen folds.

“Oh god,” you moaned, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his hair, his tongue pushing inside you right away, twisting and thrusting and licking right over your g-spot until your eyes rolled back in your head and your back arched up off the faded quilt.  Bucky grinned as he watched you, leaning down to kiss your neck, then suckle on a hardened nipple, then lick over your hips until finally he bit down on the inside of your thigh.  You yelped a little and felt him smile against your delicate skin.

“I told you we’d take care of you, babydoll,” he mumbled, voice all deep and throaty like it got when he was about to spend an hour reminding you who you belonged to.

Sometimes you dreamed of the life you had before this, of the person you were when you only belonged to yourself, but that life was gone forever and it wasn’t coming back.  Each day you mourned it in a different way.  At first it was just the loss of dignity, then it was the loss at any chance of gaining that dignity back.  You missed your friends and family, but you realized they wouldn’t welcome you back with open arms after this long.

You realized it was well and truly over the first time a man on the news called you an accomplice to the ‘rampant crime spree’ of Bucky and Steve.  Just a few weeks later, the stories changed from two prisoners and their kidnapping victim, to three prisoners.  And yes, you were a prisoner, but the police didn’t see a difference between you and them anymore.  You had no reason to run, no motive for escape.  They were the only thing keeping you alive and free now, even if this freedom wasn’t exactly overflowing with liberties.

So, you accepted as quickly as you could that this was your new life; every morning you banished the memories of who you used to be, and every night you prayed that your lovers wouldn’t be caught.  And it wasn’t so bad of a life to have, even if it wasn’t the life you would’ve chosen for yourself— there was something nice about it, really, never very calm but still having its moments of peace and domesticity.  Like falling asleep in the backseat of a stolen truck while Steve played blues on the radio.  Like sitting in Bucky’s lap as he told you all about the beautiful tropical islands they’d take you to someday.  Like when Steve robbed a jewelry store and told you he’d picked that one because they had the ring he’d seen in a magazine ad, the ring he decided he wanted you to wear from now on.  Like being Mrs. Barnes when Bucky introduced you to his criminal connections, and being Mrs. Rogers when Steve did the same the next night.

Maybe you’d forgotten how to be anything else but their sweet, quiet, obedient Peach, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad wrap after all.

[subspencer]

the to-do list

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is worried that she’s not adventurous enough in bed. So, she makes a secret checklist of things to try with Spencer. Based on this request.

Category: Smut, 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings/Includes: switch!Spencer, (sort of?) corruption kink, exhibitionism, mile high club, brief description of oral, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mentions of other stuff but no descriptions

Word Count: 3k

Spencer’s girlfriend has a secret checklist. It could be called a bucket list, of some sort, but really all of the items on it pertain to sexual acts to perform with Spencer, on Spencer, or in front of Spencer. So checklist is a more appropriate term.

The list came into existence after a girl’s night game of Never Have I Ever, in which she discovered there was an embarrassing number of things she’d never done. Some of them seemed nearly impossible to have gone twenty-something years without doing, especially when in a committed relationship. That was made abundantly clear to her when the girls pointed it out, teasing her — and by association, Spencer — for being more than vanilla.

There was no real reason she hadn’t tried those certain things — she wasn’t adverse to the idea of most of them at all. Really, it was just that she never bothered to dip her toes beyond what was familiar.

When Emily, Penelope, and Tara had nearly all ten of their fingers down after a couple rounds, she finally realized she might’ve been coming up short in the sex department. She figured it was about time to find out what she’s missing, so she made a list of everything she needed to try. And one by one, she and Spencer checked the items off.

One of the more simple things on the list, and perhaps her favorite, was giving her first blowjob. It wasn’t something she felt compelled to try with any of the guys she’s been with before, and Spencer, though he was very curious about it, was too much of a gentleman to ask for one.

So when she asked him to sit on the edge of his bed and dropped to her knees in front of him, he didn’t stop to ask questions. His mind went blank the second her fingers undid his zipper. It was Spencer’s first, too, and his fingers knotted in her hair as she took him in as deep as she could, hollowing her cheeks around his cock and swirling her tongue as her head bobbed up and down. Spencer always made pretty sounds in bed, but in this instance she envied his memory because she wished she could replay his moans and gasps from that first blowjob all over again in her mind.

Another favorite was allowing the favor to be reciprocated until completion. She figured she might just be someone who couldn’t get off from oral, because though she always welcomed Spencer to go down, she got impatient every time and pulled his head up by his hair, demanding him to fuck her already. Spencer was one to oblige every request, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t overjoyed when one time she never stopped him short.

There were no interruptions, no hands shoving his face away from its rightful place against her, just increasing moans and shaking legs as Spencer was encouraged to give more. She can still remember the half-moon shapes his nails left on her thighs from where he had to grip them so tightly as she rode out her high. And she definitely remembers the almost feral look in his eyes after, because since that first time he insists on doing it again nearly every day.

There were more or less a dozen other items that slowly but surely got ticked off the list.

Handcuffs in the bedroom — fun, but perhaps better saved for special occasions. Or if Spencer was being extra good and deserved a treat.

Various new positions — a reminder to stretch more. And that sixty-nine is not as easy as it sounds on paper.

She let Spencer put a blindfold on her — it was decided they both prefer it more when the blindfold is on him. It keeps him guessing.

Spanking — both of them like this one, either giving or receiving. Surprisingly, she thinks she might like receiving it a little more, and Spencer is always excited to give.

Shower sex — a bit of a logistical nightmare, yet still a weekly staple. It’s slippery, yes, but it’s also relaxing and intimate. And Spencer just enjoys putting his hands on her wet, soapy body.

Sending dirty texts — great, but Spencer prefers taking nude polaroids of her instead. He keeps a few in his wallet for easy access. And because he knows Garcia can’t hack his wallet and find them.

And there were more items that went in the same tune until there was just one left. The one she was most nervous to attempt.

She wondered if joining the mile high club was better or worse if it was on the BAU jet. They’d have ample opportunities to do it, but they’d also be surrounded by their colleagues, and there is no coming back from getting caught.

But the main challenge was convincing Spencer to do it in the first place.

The initial plan of attack was to drop some “subtle” hints. She brought it up for the first time one night in their shared hotel room, right after Spencer fucked her against the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“We could totally do that in the jet bathroom.”

“Yeah, I guess the basics are the same. Cramped space and a ledge to lean on.” Spencer was completely aloof as he picked up the scattered articles of clothing from the floor, rattling off about the size and dimensions of the airplane bathroom and missing the entire point of the comment.

She mentioned it again a little later, hoping the repetition may help him catch the drift.

“What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?” she asked, completely catching him off guard as he ate a breakfast of frosted flakes in his kitchen.

“Um.. I don’t know? You tell me,” he shrugged, knowing that whatever the craziest place was, it was definitely with her.

“What about doing it on the jet?” It couldn’t get more obvious.

“We haven’t done that, silly. OH! I’m gonna say it was in my car,” he nodded with a wide grin, confident in his answer that unfortunately brushed past the proposition far too quickly.

It was time to change methods.

The new plan was to see if she could get him turned on enough on the jet to motivate him to do something about it right then and there. It seemed easy enough.

She sat next to him on the small couch, as she always did, and cuddled up to his side as he read his book.

Once everyone was distracted, she snaked a hand onto his thigh, allowing it to rest there long enough for Spencer to get over his initial shock and relax into her touch. As soon as he let his guard down, she moved her hand up another inch or two, watching him squirm again as he fought his mind from wandering. She repeated that cycle every five minutes until it drove him insane, his willpower diminishing in tandem with the proximity of her hand.

When everyone finally fell asleep, she craned her head to press small kisses on his neck, alternating between quick pecks and lingering ones, sucking warm and wet little flecks onto his skin that drew soft sighs without fail.

“What are you doing?” his breath was raspy and low as he muttered into her ear.

“Nothing.” She kept her tone innocent and sweet as she continued to sprinkle the teasing kisses across the column of his throat.

Her hand finally found its way directly on top of the bulge straining against his slacks and gave it a gentle squeeze. Spencer grinded himself into her palm, desperate to feel some friction, his jaw slacked and pupils wide. She dragged a thumb across his length, stopping to rub slow circles over the sensitive tip, drawing out a wet spot at the front of his trousers.

But even with his skin flushed red and his cock leaking and half-near orgasm, Spencer still found the restraint to stop her from jerking him off right on the jet and ripped her hand away, placing it in her lap as if the action could permanently force her to keep her hands to herself.

“I can’t go to the crime scene with cum in my pants,” he hissed, squeezing her wrist tighter.

She smirked at the opportunity, wrapping her warm lips around his ear lobe and tugging with her teeth before whispering with hot breath. “Then put it in me.”

For a second she saw him consider it. His eyes had a dark cast, gaze flickering between her eyes and lips as he swallowed the thick lump in his throat. But then Emily woke up and it was yet another failed attempt.

She resigned to the fact that it just wouldn’t happen, and that the item might remain unchecked on the secret list. So she cleared the idea from her mind, not wanting to keep pushing Spencer toward something he clearly didn’t have an interest in, or to keep embarrassing herself by trying.

And then a couple weeks later, as the team wrapped another case up, she came back to their hotel room to find Spencer sitting on the bed, facing away from the door.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted. When Spencer didn’t respond, she crawled onto the bed behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders and attacking the side of his face with kisses, giggling into his messy curls. “I said hey.”

Still nothing. Her eyes followed his line of sight down to his hands and went wide with realization.

“Spencer, where did you get that!?” She tried to snatch the crumpled piece of paper from him, but he was too quick to pull it away.

“I was looking for gum in your purse,” he explained, reading the sheet over again in complete amusement, “but I found something better.”

Spencer was much too excited about it, bordering on smug, and she rolled off the bed away from him in annoyance.

“Is this what I think it is?” She remained silent, suddenly feeling very insecure about the note. “Did you... did you make a list of things to do in bed?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that, it’s so stupid.”

“Hey, who said it’s stupid?” He tugged on her fingers, pulling her back onto the bed next to him. “I just wanna know where it came from.”

“Well... when I went out with the girls, we started talking about all the things we’ve done…” she paused to see if Spencer could guess where this was going, and of course he didn’t, “... in bed. And I hadn’t even done half of what they have, so I wrote some of them down. I — I wanted to try them with you.”

“So you… you’ve never done these with anyone else?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he pieced the puzzle together. He looked down again at the discarded sheet laying on pillows, his pride swelling at how long the list was. “I’m the first?”

She nodded in assent and no sooner was Spencer pushing her back flat against the mattress, settling his body on top of hers.

“God, that’s so hot,” he spoke into her neck as he sucked purple bruises into it, allowing his hands to roam freely under her shirt. His nimble fingers made quick work of her bra clasp, pulling the hem of the top up to attach his lips to her exposed nipple. He rolled the other in his fingers, tugging gently as she arched into his touch, rolling her hips up to grind against his. He groaned and pushed back, nestling himself perfectly between her legs.

Suddenly his motions halted and he popped his head up, looking at her with wide eyes and freshly ruffled hair. “We haven’t finished the list yet!”

“I — I didn’t think you were interested in the last one.”

“If my girlfriend makes a list of ways she wants to fuck me, I’m interested.”

A devilish grin took over her face. “Well, we fly home tomorrow.”

And true to the plan, they arrived on the jet the next day with at least a vague sense of strategy: wait until everyone is asleep then go at it in the bathroom. It wasn’t the most elaborate of plans, but there wasn’t much else to think of.

Except for the possibility that the others might not go to sleep.

The flight was already halfway through its journey and everyone was still wide awake, and Spencer was growing incredibly impatient. Perhaps even more than his girlfriend, now that he knew this would be part of a long list of things he got to be her first for.

That fact seemed to encourage him, the thrill of forever being her first at something. Never mind that she’d be his firsts, too.

Spencer’s not stupid, he knows that bending her over the bathroom counter while everyone is awake to hear it is a horrible idea. But his willpower doesn’t extend far enough to stop him from dropping his hand to her exposed knee, rubbing it softly just to be able to touch her. It seemed innocent enough in case anyone might see.

He kept his eyes on the open book he was pretending to read as his fingers traced the inside of her thigh, pushing up the hem of her skirt ever so slightly.

He inched his hand up and slowly spread his long fingers apart until they covered the length of her inner thigh. The tips stopping just below her cunt, delicately tracing lines back and forth parallel to the seam of her underwear.

And she quickly discovers there’s no taste worse than your own medicine. There was gentle brushes and concealed touches, all the things that she did to him. But where Spencer would’ve stopped her teasing before it got too far, she wouldn’t have done the same.

She covered up his hands by bringing her own down to her lap, silently encouraging him to continue unseen.

Spencer looked down at her through his thick lashes, bottom lip stuck between his teeth. Looking for more confirmation that she wanted this. The answer came in the form of her shifting subtly down the seat, pressing her clothed pussy firmly against his hand.

His cock twitched against the confines of his slacks when he felt the damp patch on the fabric. His knuckles brushed against her clit and her knees clamped shut, holding him in place as she brought her lips close to his ear to let him hear her soft whines.

He has to put his book over his lap to cover how hard he is, and it almost makes him regret starting this game. Almost.

Because just as she starts desperately grinding against his hand, squirming for more friction, he notices that everyone’s asleep. And then it’s a race to the bathroom, Spencer positioning her directly in front of him to cover his bulge as they stand up.

Their mouths are on each other before the door even closes, her hands wasting little time in going for his zipper. Both desperate to have each other after all the anticipation. She immediately perched herself on the countertop, spreading her legs wide so Spencer could fit in between them, just like in that hotel room. A confused whine fell from her mouth when he lifted her off from the ledge, interrupting her plan.

“No. Like this,” he growled, turning her around and pushing her hips against the edge of the counter, bending her over it. She muttered a “Fuck,” under her breath as he pressed his cock against her backside, knowing he preferred this angle because he could get deeper.

His lips trailed down her neck as he tugged the skirt up to her hips and pulled her panties to the side, running his cock along her folds to gather the wetness that had been pooling there.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet.”

He quickly inserted his thumb into her mouth to stop any sounds from escaping before lining himself up. Her moans vibrated against the digit as he slowly pushed in, stretching her out and letting her adjust before starting to move. Slowly and deliberately, at first, then quickly gaining speed.

She pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts until he pinned them against the ledge with his own, holding them still so he could set his pace faster.

The hand that was resting on her waist came up to her chest, groping at the flesh over her blouse. Her spine arched into his palm, bending forward to give him more leverage to get deeper to that spot inside her repeatedly.

He alternated between a few quick thrusts followed by a deep one, holding himself there for a moment before repeating.

Her cunt tightened around him as he held still against her, applying firm pressure to her spot with the head of his cock.

“Fuck, do that again, please,” he grunted against her neck, pushing his hips into her ass with bruising force to get impossibly closer. A loud whine nearly escaped her lips as he did so, the motion sending her over the edge.

She sucked harder around his thumb, using it to keep her cries at bay as she reached her climax. Her walls fluttered around him as she did, giving him exactly what he needed.

“Remember what you said before, baby?” he hummed in her ear, “Do you still want me to cum inside you?”

“Please.”

Immediately his thrusts became erratic, hips snapping forward a handful of times before he spilled into her in hot spurts, biting down on her shoulder to stifle his moan as he came.

Still heaving from the comedown, he pulled her panties back on, using the fabric to keep his cum from spilling out.

She turned to feverishly attach her lips to his, panting into the open mouthed kiss. When they finally broke apart, both looked completely wrecked with swollen lips, flushed skin, bruised necks. Still, they tried their best to fix themselves, straightening out their rustled clothes and smoothing knotted hair.

Before Spencer turned the door handle, he pulled her side into him, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. “We should make another list.”

.

.

.

taglist: @suburban--gothic @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @ssa-m-187 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @s1utformgg @you-sunshine @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @amoeebaa @reidingmelodies

[wallflowerimagines]

oh hello!! i found your blog and i’m so amazed at what you write! i’m unsure if i’ve asked here before, or if this is my first time. how would the lords react to a young F!reader who has liquid mercury wings, and also doesn’t know how to smile (yet)? lil ‘kuudere’ mercury angel lmao. i hope this isn’t too much to ask ^^ tysm and stay safe!! 💛

Thank you! 💛 This is my first time getting this ask. I've interpreted it as more of a child/young teen reader, let me know if you envisioned it differently!

Alcina Dimitrescu

Congratulations! You've just been adopted! 🎉🎉🎉

All of Alcina's mom instincts just clicked on the minute she saw you. You're so small. So cute. She felt the same instant connection to you as she did to her three daughters.

Without even being able to really process it, you're given a room, an entire new wardrobe, and three older sisters who adore you just as much as their mom does. Honestly, it's a little disorienting.

Alcina is a little worried about the fact that you seem to have no real emotions, but she's a patient lady who believes firmly in communication. If you like something and tell her, she believes you. Some people just don't emote that well, after all. She gets used to it very quickly.

(And if anyone even so much as makes a snippy comment about your face or tone, they're straight up dead.)

She is the kind of mom who wants ALL the pictures of her darling children, and makes you sit for many, many formal portraits--some of which she even paints herself.

She likes incorporating Angelic imagery in all of your portraits, too. Your wings are beautiful, and she wants to make sure that you never have insecurities about your appearance or your abilities. If she can show even 1/10th of how perfect she finds you, she calls it a mission accomplished.

Alcina never expected you to smile for her, honestly. You had limits, and she respected them. But when she unveiled the newest family portrait--with all of her children featured prominently--to her surprise she spots a small, trembling smile on your lips.

And when you say 'Thank you, Mother'? Alcina gets really emotional, and even a little teary eyed.

She Immediately drops to her knees and pulls you into the BIGGEST hug. You are always welcome.

Donna Beneviento

But if you're baby, and I'm baby, then who's driving the bus?

Donna does not know how to interact with you. She's already quite inexperienced with social interaction, and without the feedback that she normally gets from people's facial expressions, she's left floundering.

She's really trying her best, too! It's just, your voice doesn't even have the slightest bit of inflection. Are you happy? Sad? Give her a hint she is suffering.

Your deadpan tone just CRACKS Angie up, though.

Angie bridges the gap in your relationship. She is talkative and wacky, which fills the awkward silences between you and Donna very easily.

Similar to Donna, you find it very easy to talk to Angie! She doesn't force you to smile, or talk, or do anything you might be uncomfortable with. She's playful and loud, so you don't have to try very hard around her.

Eventually you two reach a peaceful, relaxing medium. Donna slowly accepts that your words are meant to be taken at face value, and with that realization a lot of the stress between you two melts away.

Also, if you let her make you clothes? She👏is👏 LIVING👏

She loooves to make things for you, and the wings only offer a welcome challenge. She's never worked with anything like that before, and she's so excited!!!!

Angie also wants you to fly around with her in the yard! The three of you actually have a lot of fond memories of outdoor tea parties where Donna primly sits in a chair, watching with a small, happy smile on her face as you flutter through the air with a SCREECHING Angie in your arms. She's having a BLAST!!

It's the first time she sees you smile, too, and it just makes her own smile grow. She never thought she'd have another sibling, but life really is full of surprises, isn't it?

Salvatore Moreau

Salvatore is SO concerned...

You're really young, left alone, with an obvious physical difference that can be spotted a mile away. Someone could target you very easily, and despite your wings he doesn't know if you could safely defend yourself. He really wants to help you out, but uh...

Kids are consistently terrified of him? He doesn't know if you would accept his help or run away screaming.

...but your clothes are so ratty, and it's so cold outside...

Moreau decides to sneakily leave you some cheese and a spare scarf on a rock in plain view. When he sees you put the scarf on and absolutely DEVOUR the piece of cheese, it steals his resolve.

He winds up leaving you a small trail of cheese pieces that lead to his home, and sets up a small separate nest like area for you. It's entirely enclosed, warm and far enough away from his room that he hopes it won't spook you. This will work great!

Little does he know, that you were only a few paces behind him the entire time, and when he finally finished with the setup, he turned around to find you hovering in the doorway, expression blank as always, and mouth full of cheese.

Moreau screamed

You seem happy enough with the new setup, though, and begin to follow Moreau around like a baby duck.

Dr. Moreau Time: He does give you the occasional exam to test your reflexes. He's worried a little bit about the composition of your wings--Mercury is a chemical that is known to cause madness and nerve damage with extended exposure, especially in young children.

He wants to ensure that you're safe from harm, both physical and mental!

One night, many weeks later, when you two are seated side by side watching a movie, you flop into his side with a small smile on your face, and fall asleep. Moreau tries not to wake you up with his overwhelmed sobbing.

Karl Heisenberg

Hello?? Child?? Why are you here???

Karl doesn't quite know what to do with you, at first. He's not bad with kids, per se, but it's suspicious for him that you just so happen to have a variant of his metal powers and were found wandering around outside the Factory.

He suspects Mother Miranda immediately--are you a spy? Another one of her victims? He doesn't know, and until he does you will be fed, clothed, and kept at arm's length.

Once he confirms your lack of involvement in her schemes, he engages with you a lot more.

Initially, just kind of baffled by the fact you don't emote, but upon further thought he totally gets it. Emotions suck, man. You don't gotta express more than you have to around him, he's cool with it.

He's more used to being a Fun Uncle rather than a dad (he's totally helped Alcina's daughters sneak out and cause mischief before this), so he only vaguely knows that you should probably have a bedtime, regular meals, and a social circle? He'll halfheartedly try to enforce stuff, but if you push back at all he just let's it go.

He, uh, will also let you help him mess around with corpses for the soldats? Definitely not age appropriate, but still, he wants to share his passion with you and teach you a little bit about metalwork.

One day, he does a little metal bending trick in front of you and makes you a flower, just to show off. Your eyes just LIGHT UP and the tiniest little smile shows up on your face, and when you reach your hands out to grab it--

Something deep in his chest just seized up all of a sudden. Shit, that's cute.

Shit, does that mean he's attached??? FUCK, WHEN DID HE GET ATTACHED??

[husky-twst-and-obeyme]

Anon Asked : "You know how some twst fan artists like to draw Yuu with their face blocked out, usually by Grim? I have this headcanon that in the Twisted Wonderland universe, it’s impossible to get a picture of Yuu, there’s always someone standing in front of them, a piece of paper floating by, or they’re just out of frame, but no one noticed until after the picture was taken. No one knows why, Rook even tried to draw them once but a Pomefiore first year spilled nail polish on the picture when he finished. " I do like that idea! I did see one artist who just had a mickey shaped head with blank eyes and it really looked cool! Now as for the scenario or story i will only do Dorm leaders for this situation, if anyone wishes for more i will provide ! BUT i have a small twist :) Warnings: Cursing Riddle

Riddle wasn't sure why but he it really irritated him how whenever they did civil group pictures, you always end up blocked or something happens to you in your part of the picture

It's not your fault really but it bugs him

he made it a goal to get a perfect picture , such as asking for a selfie

He actually wasn't a fan of it but he wanted at least ONE good picture of you because he cherishes his friends

but EVERY. SINGLE . TIME . IT'S THE SAME-

He's frustrated to no end

He eventually gave up and just accepted fate

he even tried to draw you and it somehow got ruined which made his mood worst

At one point , you came to him with a strawberry tart to cheer him up but he was really pouty

You asked if he wanted to try the selfie again but you hold the phone , which he reluctantly agreed to

afterwards when you left , he went to see the picture and he couldn't believe his damn eyes

a perfect picture of you and him

" i don't know if i want to cry of joy or behead them . "

He stilled loved the photo and refused to show anyone else in case it somehow got ruined or deleted

Leona

He wasn't too interested in photos but in your case it caught his interest slightly

he noticed from school activity photos that your face was always somehow ruined.

he thought it was funny but rare

so he tasked ruggie to take a picture for a small amount , mainly because he thought it would be easy

plus it's not like he wants a photo of you for anything psssshh

but when ruggie returned , he was frustrated and tired

confused leona questioned him

"Leona san. i loved getting money from you but i might just not even try anymore ..."

he got baffled that Ruggie had given up money for any easy task. or so he thought was easy

So thinking ruggie was being lazy , he went to do it himself

as a predator, he knows how to be sneaky and hide well , so once he locked you in , he took a snap

he looks ats the photo completely ruined

he took another , ruined. once again , it was ruined

he repeats many tries after and it all ends the same

" ahh fuck it ... " and went for a nap

later on you wanted a selfie with leona

being smug he said " would you even get the picture right ?~"

with a pout " of course i can!" you posed for the picture and snapped

he took a glance and he'll be damned ,, it was perfect

" don't talk to me for the next few day, herbivore."

"huh-"

Azul

azul didn't like photos , much at least because of certain ones of his past

though he took note of a particular incident

(Event after chapter 3) when you all took a picture at the museum , he noticed that your part of the picture , floyd's arm covered your face

He thought nothing of it until he noticed it often

Ace took a photo of you and deuce and somehow grim flew in front of your face

Cater took a selfie but it ended up blurred

it was pointless but hard to ignore so he assigned Jade and floyd into getting the perfect picture of you

after a couple hours, jade and floyd came back frustrated

even jade looked visibly irritated which was VERY rare to the point it scared Azul

they showed him nothing but blurry pics, he knew something was up because even jade wouldn't fail this bad

He knew he couldn't stand the chance if the tweels failed

but later on , you wanted to take a selfie with him

he refused immediately but you promised to keep the photo private , then he did agree , reculantantly

His immediate thought was that the picture would of been ruined anyways but was shocked to see a cute selfie of him and you

"....send me that picture . " you turned to him "what???" "SEN ME THAT PICTURE"

Kalim

We all know this absolute dork would love to take pictures , possibly from Cater's influence , because he sees it as a fun thing to do

So you , being one of his favorite people, he obviously wants a good photo of you

but to his disappointment, when he wanted to take a pic of you while you were at the gardens, it turned out super blurry

he thought nothing of it , just might of moved a bit , until the next one came blurry

he was getting semi frustrated and you had already left , so for once, he was actually grumpy to the point where he just asked Jamil to take a good picture for him

he felt lowkey bad of course but he was a tiny bit frustrated

Jamil didn't care until he had the same issue

Jamil tried a it but gave up when he kept getting the same result

then kalim was just sad , he just wanted a cute picture of you

you visited one day and he was his usual self but you here reminded him of the picture incident

you offered to try again , he was hard for him to say no to you

but after looking..you took a perfect photo

he wanted to cry and you were just so confused

hug him he needs it

Vil

Vil is a perfectionist of course, which includes photos too

you , him and a few others went on a small trip , you wanting to take a photo to remember the trip

you're one of the only people he's allowed for a picture minus fans because he's aware you just want a genuine picture and knows you won't share/ brag about it

Rook offered to take the photo

you two posed and rook took the shot but Vil automatically saw Rook's confused face

"Rook?.. is there a problem?" "non non roi du poison! I must of moved a little fast, part of it came blurry

he didn't think on it , just a small mistake no biggy

that was until the problem kept repeating itself

Irrigated , he took the camera and looked at the photos , each and every one of them was blurred of were you were at while vil looked completely fine

he slowly looked at you while you just stood there worried that we weren't going to get a picture

"Vil senpai? maybe i can just take a selfie? Rook's camera's probably broken"

sighing in defeat , he agreed ,after getting in a cute pose , you snapped a photo

he took a look and he was legit about to burst

It was an absolute beautiful picture

He was stunned that you did an even better job then rook

might make you his photographer

Idia

we all know for a fact, he hates pictures , at least mainly of himself

though he doesn't mind pictures of you

of course , he doesn't take pics of you willy nilly , he asks you first because he'd be hypocrite to take a picture of someone who didn't want a photo

You often cosplayed as some of his favorite characters and of course he'd want a picture of it but he was in for a surprise

The first time you cosplayed in front of him , he asked and you agreed

he snapped the photo , it blurred

he got irritated but thought nothing of it and tried again

still failed

he has plenty of cameras ( I dunno it's for the story make up your own reason XD ) and used a different one to get a photo

it failed and he tried many times , it was too a point he built up the courage *cough*two hours*cough to ask rook to help

he was dumbfounded when rook couldn't do well

you later went home , while idia was sad , he really wnated to take a good pic

soon after, you sent him a text

"I'm sorry you couldn't get a cute picture earlier, so i took a shot at it with a selfie!"

and there he saw the perfect picture

"...what the f**k is this voodoo magic- "

he of course loved it but he was so confused

Malleus

oh boy here we go-

he was still confused on the idea of photos

but he thought it was similar to a painting but it's instant

so of course he wants one with you

he attempts to use an old style camera (hey be lucky he made it this far)

he sets it up to where it takes a picture with a timer and you both pose

After it was done, he looked at the photo and somehow it blurred

he just thought it was a small mistake and tried again

second time, same result

this is where his temper slowly rises and it's shown every time it fails

and after about the 20th time , he smashes the camera

you attempt to calm him down and offered to use your phone

he agrees because he trusts you more than a dumb camera

after you took the photo, he was very happy , it looked wonderful

he didn't care about the camera anymore, he just cared that he got a good photo

I hope you enjoyed!

[the-last-kenobi]

If you’re still taking requests (feel no pressure to do this) 14 with Obi-wan and a knight Anakin because that sounds very much like him

A fluff prompt!! I’m so excited, thank you! 🤍

From this various prompts list.

Requests are currently closed.

_

Obi-Wan Kenobi had not slept in three nights, and his Lineage was not happy about it.

Ahsoka and Anakin watched with narrowed eyes from a balcony as the Jedi Master mingled with the crowd, smiling softly at anyone who engaged his attention, keeping close to the side of Chancellor Palpatine and Vice Chair Mas Amedda.

For a man who was running on very little sleep and hardly any sustenance, Obi-Wan was managing to maintain the image of the perfect Jedi — civil, humble, charming, wise. Power concealed just below the surface.

Every so often, Palpatine would draw the Jedi deeper into some conversation or other, or pat him on the shoulder in a strangely paternal fashion.

“Why does he keep doing that?” Ahsoka hissed to her Master. “Master Kenobi hates strangers touching him!”

“The Chancellor isn’t a stranger,” Anakin said defensively. But he watched again as Palpatine settled a hand on his former Master’s arm and saw the slight tension creasing Obi-Wan’s forehead, and had to concede that Obi-Wan was feeling uncomfortable. “But yeah. I don’t think the Chancellor knows, he wouldn’t do it if he did. He’s probably just too used to working with me instead. We’re more like friends.”

Ahsoka raised her eyebrows. “And would he have let you go home by now? We were supposed to be able to leave almost two hours ago.”

Anakin sighed. He leaned on the railing, absentmindedly picking at a carved design in the metal with his mech hand, creating a small clicking noise. He scanned the room again, searching for unlikely threats, and then returned his gaze to his Master and his friend, still penned in the center of a colorful crowd all waiting for attention. To see and be seen. Vultures.

Obi-Wan had more patience for this sort of thing, it was true, but it was apparent to those who knew him well — to Anakin — that he was run ragged. That every new face turning in his direction, awed and pettily delighted by meeting both the Supreme Chancellor and a High Jedi General, was another weight on his shoulders.

Anakin glanced over at his Padawan. Ahsoka’s eyes lit up as she saw the look in his eyes.

“How do you wanna do this?” she asked, tapping her fingers excitedly on the banister. “I know you like explosions, but if you set something off, Master Obi-Wan will definitely have to flee with the Chancellor to safety and then he’ll be gone for ages.”

“You’re right, Snips,” Anakin said, and a smirk pulled at his lips. He ruffled his hair proudly, ignoring Ahsoka’s eye roll, and said, “So I’ll take a leaf from Obi-Wan’s book. I’ll just go right down there and use my words.”

Anakin beamed.

Ahsoka looked as if she suddenly preferred an explosion.

-

“Yes, hi, hello, excuse me, coming through, yep, pardon me, just walking here,” Anakin threw scattered, inane apologies in every direction as he plowed a path right through the entire gala.

Ahsoka trailed in his wake, smiling awkwardly at the people who scattered with startled looks and scowling ferociously at those who dared look cross.

Obi-Wan spotted them first. He was deep in conversation with a representative from the Core, but his blue eyes flickered to them briefly and his smile became slightly taut; he raised one of his hands in what might have passed for a wave but was, to his Padawans, a clear signal to turn around.

Anakin disregarded this subtle warning immediately.

He strolled directly up to Obi-Wan, bowed slightly, and put a hand on the Master’s shoulder, smiling blindingly at the representative. “Good evening. I’m afraid it’s time for Master Kenobi to depart. The Jedi thank you for your time.”

The representative raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

Palpatine, on the other hand, suddenly popped up right beside them, a wide smile on his grandfatherly face. “Anakin, Knight Skywalker, how good to see you! I thought you’d gone home hours ago, why, surely you need your rest after that last campaign.”

Anakin kept a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Ahsoka shifted to stand behind them, smiling a little too widely, the points of her teeth glinting, at anyone who looked at them askance.

“We had quite the victory,” Anakin agreed. He preened slightly. But — “And you’re right, Chancellor, we do need our rest. General Kenobi has served very well, and we’re all eager to rest and prepare for our next deployment.”

Palpatine’s smile widened still further. “Ah, yes. General Kenobi is an incredible public servant, he’s such a delight to have at events such as these.”

This time it was Anakin who tensed slightly. Ahsoka sidled up surreptitiously and linked her arm with Master Obi-Wan’s, flanking him between them, drawn up as tall as she could make herself.

Anakin looked intently at Palpatine, trying to communicate to his friend that now was not the time for politics. He’d thought this would be easy, but the Chancellor seemed determined to keep Kenobi with him all evening. The crowd had begun to disperse, realizing they weren’t going to be receiving any attention for awhile, but they milled about nearby, clearly listening in.

“I—” Obi-Wan began, but Anakin decided to risk his Master’s wrath and just cut him right off.

“And he and I are always happy to be invited by such gracious hosts!” he blurted out quickly. “But sadly, we will have to wait for another invitation before we get the chance to enjoy one another’s company. We really do have to be going.”

Palpatine studied him for a moment.

Go on, Anakin urged him silently. Please. Come on. You know we want to leave.

The silence dragged.

“Master Kenobi,” Palpatine said warmly, turning to Obi-Wan, and Anakin felt a wave of relief. “What do you say? Shall we… let you out of your duties for the sake of your valiant friends?”

Oh, what the fuck?

It had the ring of a joke but was worded like a trap. And Anakin could see, in slow-motion, the flicker of resignation and bitterness deep in Obi-Wan’s blue eyes, just behind the friendly smile, and knew what was about to happen if he didn’t do something about it.

Anakin let out a loud laugh and clapped Obi-Wan on the shoulder again. “Sorry, everyone. We’re on a time crunch, we have to get back in time for dessert.”

Ahsoka laughed, too, and clung a little tighter to Obi-Wan’s arm.

Obi-Wan looked somewhere between confused and horror struck.

Palpatine’s smile froze.

Anakin chuckled and waved at the surrounding crowd, shrugging in a you-know-how-it-is sort of way. “Hey, he promised us milkshakes. General I may be, but I still demand my old Master fulfill his promises of unhealthy desserts.”

“Hey, I think out of everyone, I deserve milkshakes the most!” Ahsoka interjected, her tone teasing.

A few of the politicians shot her amused smiles. Ordinarily she would have bristled, but in this instance she just shot them knowing, conspiratorial looks, like a child deliberately making mischief. There was a ripple of laughter.

“I don’t know about that,” Anakin said. “I think I definitely took out the most droids.”

“Riiiight,” said Ashoka. “After I took out the battlement. By myself.”

They ribbed back and forth. The gala was eating it up, their faces amused and indulgent, intrigued by the display of youthful frivolity and friendship the Jedi were giving them. Obi-Wan was still pinned between them, rooted helplessly to the spot.

Anakin looked back at the Chancellor, expecting a smile.

Instead he got a blank expression — which quickly turned into a loud bark of laughter and a grandfatherly grin. He clapped his hands to gain the attention of the crowd and said, “Oh, I believe our brave Hero and his friends have earned themselves a night out for something as innocent and delightful as milkshakes, don’t you say?”

The crowd laughed and nodded; there was scattered applause, and it was done.

Anakin winked at the Chancellor and then turned on the spot, he and Ahsoka striding out the room with Obi-Wan trapped in the middle, waving and bowing at anyone who smiled in their direction.

The three of them escaped out of the ballroom, down the flight of stairs, and out onto the grand balcony overlooking the landing platform, where their ship was waiting in the semi-darkness of the Coruscant night.

Anakin and Ahsoka turned at the same time to look at Obi-Wan, each of them still holding on to one of the Master’s arms.

There was a long silence.

Obi-Wan stared tiredly down at the speeder for a very long time.

Anakin looked at his Padawan nervously.

But then Obi-Wan’s lips twitched beneath his beard, and then he chuckled, and then he burst into uproarious laughter. The sound was infectious; relieved and excited, the other two clung to him and laughed, all of them half-leaning on the railing, cackling like idiots.

They laughed until they ran out of breath, and then laughed a little more.

After a long while, Obi-Wan disentangled his arms from their controlling grips but immediately settled them back, one on Anakin’s shoulder and the other resting on Ahsoka’s back. “I think,” he said, “I promised you milkshakes. Dex’s?”

“Oh, I definitely remember you saying that!” Ahsoka said. “Dex’s is great.”

“Yeah, and you also definitely said you’d pay,” Anakin wheedled.

“No,” Obi-Wan said firmly.

“Awww. Worth a shot,” Anakin whispered to his Padawan.

Obi-Wan smiled. “I said I’d pay for Ahsoka’s. You, my Knighted former Padawan, can pay for your own dessert.”

Ahsoka cheered. Anakin groaned. They strolled off into the night, ambling without haste or urgency or fear, connected by light touches of the hands and arms, and by something deeper and unseen and familial.

There would be time for the war and politics later.

Right now, they were late for dessert.

fin

[fanfic-wonderland]

For the tom x assassin can u do after they kill his dad they have sex and she’s the son and toms the sub virgin

😏 Although I do read smut, I'm not used to writing it, so I hope this isn't too cringy. 😂 You can read the first part here, if you haven't already.

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Assassin!Reader

Warnings: Language, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), sub!Tom Riddle

_____________________________________

Killing off Tom’s father was easy, but disposing of the body and the evidence was much easier. It came with the advantages of being a wizard.

Tom set the body on fire until there was only a mere pile of ashes left, which he quickly got rid of with a single wave of his wand. You did the same thing with the blankets covered in blood, which was now dry, and replaced them with fresh new ones. You turned to Tom once he re-entered the room after finishing with his task, a proud smile on your face. "You're quite the learner, aren’t you?"

His lips curled into a smirk. "I guess so."

"Come," you sat down on the neatly made bed and patted the empty spot next you. "sit with me for a bit."

He wasted no time in making his way towards you, sitting much closer than you had expected. However, just because it surprised you didn't mean that you minded it.

His eyes stared down at your face, and his musky scent hit your nostrils immediately. You both had taken a shower almost half an hour ago, and it was getting hard for you to ignore the small details that you were just starting to notice about him. Like how his hair was still wet (and yet it still looked stylish, somehow), or how the gray t-shirt and black shorts that he was now wearing made him look ten times cuter, if that was even possible. "You must be exhausted."

"Are you?" He questioned.

You leaned closer and you saw how his eyes dropped to your lips, the proximity between you two becoming dangerously close. "Not at all."

That was the last thing you remembered saying before you guys were already kissing, hungrily reaching out for each other as if you wanted to touch each other in every way possible, all at the same time. Your hands took a hold of his wet curls, tangling them around your fingers while his hands went down to your waist, and you didn't have to think twice before climbing onto his lap to gain better access to him. All of him.

Your tongue coaxed his as the kiss deepened, neither of you daring to be the first to break apart. You've kissed your fair share of people before, but this one was the most intense so far. There was just something in the way that Tom responded to your actions that made you go weak in the knees.

Once you felt his hard-on through his shorts, that was when you had to pull away in order to take off the random, oversized shirt that you had found around the house. Throwing it aside, you watched Tom’s blank gaze move down to your bare breasts, his upper body going stiff. You suddenly realized why. "Tom," you grabbed his face, in order to force him to look back up at you. "have you ever done this before?"

He stared at you for a few seconds. "No. Never."

"Is that so?" A smug smile crept onto your face as you softly pushed him backwards, so that now his back was pressed against the mattress. "So I'm the very first person to witness you like this?"

You noticed how his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "Witness me how?" He whispered.

You bit your lip, your hands beginning to wander around his clothed torso. "So... bare. So vulnerable. It's fascinating."

He chuckled, his hands landing on your hips, the friction between you and his pants becoming almost unbearable -even more so when you began to slowly grind against him-, but he had no intentions in showing you how much it affected him. "You find me fascinating?"

"Very." Was your answer as you leaned down, so that your faces were only inches apart.

Instead of kissing him again, you went lower and pressed your lips against the soft skin of his neck. When he felt your tongue slithering against it, and then your teeth nipping at a certain spot, he couldn't help but let out a sigh. Clearly, he wasn't someone who let people take charge that easily, but he would be lying if he said that he wasn't enjoying the way you were making him feel at that moment. You, of all people, he never would have guessed.

You helped him take off his shirt -fucking finally- and it probably landed somewhere alongside your own, but you did not care as you kissed down from his chest and then tracing down to his stomach, where you disposed of his shorts, quickly followed by his boxers. His length was now in full view and you couldn't help but look up at him, almost like you were asking for permission to touch him. He didn't look nervous, nor did he want you to stop, so when he gave you a small nod of approval you began to stroke him. You didn't miss the way his breath hitched as soon as you touched him, and it made you smile in satisfaction. You looked back up at him to see his reaction; his head was thrown back and his eyes were now closed shut. It was probably the hottest thing you had ever seen, the fact that Tom was usually so collected but now you had him wrapped around your finger.

"Should I keep going?" You asked him. Your hand did not stop its movements.

"Yes." He breathed.

"As you wish." You didn't want to make him wait any longer; you ran your tongue through his length, slowly licking all around it and then lightly sucking on the tip.

"Fuck." He muttered quietly. His hand tugged on your hair; you weren't sure if he was aware of how hard he was pulling, but you did not stop. You took him in fully, your head bobbing up and down as you sucked him off; one hand was still stroking him, while the other one was holding onto his thigh. Small grunts of pleasure escaped his mouth every now and then, and it made you smile against him. "Fuck, I think I’m going to-"

When you were sure that he was close, you unwrapped your lips from him, but increased the speed on your hand movement. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, and soon enough warm drops of his cum fell flat on your tongue. Even when he was finished you licked around him a few more times, just to make sure that you got everything.

He finally fluttered his eyes open when you were crawling back up, leaving yet another trail of kisses behind, until you found his lips again. He grabbed your chin, holding you in place as he kissed you roughly, tasting himself on your mouth, and maybe that was the hottest thing ever. "Did you like that?" You asked him against his lips.

"It was amazing." He replied, kissing you shortly. His hands were running up and down your back as you continued to grind against him. "You're amazing."

"I'm not done, yet." You let him know as you took off your underwear, the only thing separating you from being skin against skin completely. Before he could say anything else, you aligned yourself against his tip, and then you took him in, all in one swift movement.

You moved against him, his length hitting every inch of your inner walls perfectly, and you let out a few moans that could not really be kept in even if you tried. He lifted himself up a bit in order to capture your lips once more in yet another sloppy kiss. His hands got much more curious, cupping your breasts and playing with your nipples almost subconsciously, and it only made your moans duplicate. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you both stared at each other for a moment, his lips parted open while your foreheads pressed together. You felt your release building up at the pit of your stomach, which only made you go faster, harder. His facial expression told you that he was close, too, and he wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer to him. He needed as much from you as possible.

Although the pleasure was out of this world as soon as you finally finished, your favorite part was watching him come undone for the second time that night. Both of you were breathing heavily, trying to calm down and process what just happened. Tom buried his head in the crook of your neck while his chest was still heaving up and down, your bodies still tangled with each other because neither of you wanted to let go. It was too nice of a feeling to have his warmth embracing you whole. "How was it?" You asked him once you could speak again.

You felt him kissing your neck. "It might have felt just as good as killing off my father."

You laughed as he looked up at you, again, while a toothless smile decorated his lips. You combed his hair with your fingers. "Good to know."

[plunnies-n-shit]

... I just had a Thought™️

The shiba family has a well-deserved reputation for producing more reiryoku-dense shinigami than any other noble family, and so they have their own special additions to their shihakusho.

Kaien wore his where theyre easily hidden. Not so easy to remove, but thats. Better. He doesnt want to undo them without very good reason. Kukaku has to wear them too, especially when shes meeting with other shinigami, a single band around her upper arm-- a polite gesture, more than anything, to give the other nobles the false sense that theyve collared the wolf.

Shiba Ichigos reiatsu suppressing bands are extensive, to the point that its either make it a mark of shame or a fucking fashion statement.

They lace up and down his arms, wrap around his chest and thighs and neck, absorbing and redirecting and gently dispersing so that no one is accidentally crushed under the full weight of it. He and kisuke have worked tirelessly together to add their own additions, aspects that harden reiatsu like armor and gloves that narrow his vast strength into a needle-fine point for kido control that would usually be beyond even the most disciplined shiba.

Hes often mocked for it: look at him, an animal, out of controlled unless chained, collared and bound. Head down and face blank in kisukes shadow at captains meetings, never once speaking out of turn.

Anyone who knows ichigo even a little bit knows how good of an actor he is. With people hes comfortable with hes outspoken, opinionated, fiercely kind. His control even without the gloves is prodigious: if he werent already kisukes 3rd, unohana would have snapped him up a long time ago for more than just weekly lessons.

Ichigos bankai is the best kept secret in seireitei. Achieved in less than two days in a dark training ground beneath sokyoku hill with only kisuke and yoruichi and not even the moon to witness. No one had come that close to breaking kisukes reiatsu-masking barriers since yoruichi first developed shunko. Kisuke is still occasionally struck breathless by the memory of suppression bands burning away, ichigos great reiatsu swelling and then narrowing with a whip-like crack into two demure, slender blades.

(He shudders to think what might happen if anyone else finds out that the chains they put on ichigo to pull him down have only served to make him stronger)

[littlefreya]

Easy Prey

Summary: Direct sequel to Jerk. Ring or not, August promised himself that he will make you his, in whatever mean possible and he kept that promise. 

Pairing: August Walker x Reader (2nd person pov)

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: 18+, dark, kidnapping, bondage, dubious consent, teasing, dirty talk, gunplay (yeah add this to the list of kinks I gave you), sweet degradation and praise.

A/N: You thought August is going to sweet talk this one, didn’t you? Surprise! This was a short drabble brought by a prompt, turned into a one-shot and then my beta @agniavateira suggested this as a sequel to Jerk before I posted. Since most of you may be in a thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, enjoy my own early b-day gift to you! Many thanks to @wondersofdreaming and @sapphirescrolls who convinced me to post this. 

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed. Your feedback is my fuel. 🖤

Easy Prey

August Walker lived his life swinging between the two sharp edges of a sword; but then, how could he not? He had to maintain a handsome prime-alpha male reputation while hiding his true cruel nature masked beneath mist and shadows.

It took everyone by surprise once it was revealed that the slick, charming agent was a vicious, Armani-wearing monster. A hard-to-swallow pill for most, but these two diverse entities were always one and the same: 

August Walker was John Lark the way darkness followed light. 

And how unfortunate it was of you to be lured into the spider’s web, stunned by the beauty of the pearly silk; you’ve gotten too close and had your limbs caught in the sticky threads. Now captured, you’ve earned yourself a taste of August’s sweet toxin yourself. 

Fear wasn’t even close to the sensation that was gnawing in your gut.

The suite was cosy; a sleepy fire crackled in the mantle, shy beams of maple light kissed your bare breasts while you laid upon the softest pillows. It felt like a sinister joke compared to the ropes charring the supple flesh of your wrists. August had you stripped of any remnants of protection of course, save for the little jewellery circling your finger which he eyed with a blank stare that screamed in its contained silence.

Fully clothed, he stood at the fore of the bed, wearing a blue three-piece suit as if he was attending a royal wedding. A magnum was clutched in his right hand and a dagger in the other. The calmness and elegance of his appearance only made you arch and grunt in your fruitless attempts to set yourself free.

“Ropes too tight, angel?” He hummed, his voice so pleasant it felt like your lungs were floating in a void. His crystal-pale gaze dawdled upon you, invading beneath the skin, penetrating the warm crease between your legs which you fought to keep shut. 

He felt it, or maybe even smelled the arousal that wafted at his direction and chanted his name.

“I’d save my strength if I were you. We’ve already proven that no one can hear your screams and we have a long night ahead of us.”

His words covered the bones of your spine with a thick layer of frost and in your searing throat, a bitter substance reemerged. Screwing your eyes shut, you wished more than anything for this to be a nightmare; but every time the binds twisted about your hands, you remembered the dreadful meaning behind the pain. 

It was there to remind you of the harsh slap that was reality.  

August tilted his head, a smile beginning to spread from each corner of his mouth: all pleasant and  charming as if this was nothing but a couple’s naughty getaway. 

“You can’t wake up from this, this is not a dream… or a nightmare, depends on your disobedience,” he assured, boding a sudden hollow in your chest. “Now, which one do you prefer? The knife or the gun?”

“Fuck you!” 

Defiant, you gathered yourself to scream a trembling cry, sending your legs to kick the mattress in a hopeless fight. Only it made things worse as August was able to spot the little dew-kissed orchid between your legs, glistening-wet with invitation. 

Flicking a tongue over his upper lip, he crept close. His broad shoulders strained, his posture that of an elegant predator; as you saw the large outlines of his heavy cock stretching his navy-blue trousers, even hatred and horror couldn’t mask the pang of need that shot through your core.

Despite the panic, the traitorous instinct of life whispered of undisclosed, primal lust. You wished so badly you could fight or hide it, but alas there was no hiding from August. He could sense it, see it, and even taste it on his wicked tongue. 

“Gun then,” he answered and slid the knife back into the holster in his belt.

Your breath hitched as the mattress dipped beneath his weight, and you watched paralysed as he aimed the gun between your legs. Strong tremors coursed along your skin and your knees buckled and wobbled as the cold metal touched you; and yet, in that very moment, you did the impossible and moaned.

“Has it been that long since you had a dick inside you?” August observed with a vicious grin crisping his lips. It made his moustache twitch almost comically. 

“Don’t worry sweet angel, we’ll fix that soon.”

Pushing the gun between your kneecaps, he forced them open and ran the barrel feverishly down your inner thighs. The metal was freezing against your flesh, eliciting little tingles to spiral beneath the tender brush. Gasping, you looked away from him ashamed. You were terrified, not just of him, but from how much the wanton centre of your sex clenched from his ministrations.

You were bound and kidnapped by a dangerous man, and yet in your mind played the sick fantasies of him unbuckling his belt and giving you his full girth hard and wild. 

“You will soon have me in every hole,” August continued with a promise on his honeyed lips while lowering the brim of the weapon perilously close to your radiating heat and toying with the sensitive area teasingly. “I will make it hurt real bad, you’ll feel me there for days if not more,” he hummed and swerved the barrel between your engorged lips. 

“Please!” You gasped and writhed away slightly, tugging on the binds that began chafing your delicate skin. August raised his glare to meet your pleading eyes and leaned forward, his shadow looming over you entirely. Reaching one hand to your nape, he clutched you forcefully while his icy glare pierced right through your skull.

Slow and sensual he began to run the gun between your soft petals, gingerly grazing the hard shaft at the plump peak of flesh that made you cry out with both pleasure and despair. 

“Aww...” He keened and groaned. Never stopping his coaxing of your cunt with the still object, his breath huffed hot upon your cheek as he rounded his beautiful lips in faux pity. “Poor helpless little butterfly.”

Crying and dazed, you stared directly into his eyes. Words of plea kept running caged inside your head, unable to make their way out while you watched August’s large shoulder move back and forth. The movement resulting in the unwanted pleasure. Back and forth, he stroked you, gradually increasing the pace, and not without style even. Ruthless, August was keen on making you come.

You weren’t even sure what it was that you begged for at that point.

Grunts and sobs escaped your throat unwillingly. You squirmed and pushed against it, your body craving for more: not just for the rough friction that tingled at your cunt but also at the large bulge visible at his groin. The more rapture began to creep through your flowing tendons, the further you sank into delirium, wondering how he would feel like buried deep between your tight walls, fucking you the way only someone who has no boundaries would.

“Fuck!” You screamed, grinding against the metal while August leaned even closer and kissed the corner of your mouth before groaning and moaning at your lips. His hand worked hard between your thighs, the cold barrel now warm, the hollow edge coated with your elixir. 

The wall of your protests crumbled as the simmering surge of climax began pushing itself down your belly, leaving you teetering between self-loathing and ecstasy. 

“That’s right my beautiful butterfly, I’ll pluck your wings,” August promised in a husky whisper, watching you as you coiled and cried louder, your walls convulsing tightly around a sad, empty space as you came. If only you didn’t wish it was August choked between them instead.

As you slumped down, sweaty and breathless, he drawled a growl of content and slowly withdrew the gun to hold it next to your shivering face.

“I swear, Sloan’s assistants keep getting sluttier every year; the last one I fucked had a thing for me choking her,” he mocked while grazing the wet barrel against your cheek, “do you think you’d be into that too, sweetling? My hand around your throat?”  

Rounding your eyes in utter fear, you swallowed the dryness in your throat. August sighed with a malicious little grin while twisted awe danced between the blue, sparkling sapphires that examined you ecstatically, so fascinated by how easily he managed to break and bend you to his will.

Still holding the neck of the gun pressed next to your cheek, he reached the other hand above your head. A part of you was relieved for a moment, thinking he was about to untie the bind. 

But your hope quickly died as you felt his fingers rolling the ring that decorated your finger.

The diamond reflected onto the deep blue of his eyes as he examined it closely before throwing it directly into the fireplace.

“No!” You cried out brokenly, as the last memory of your old life disappeared in flames.

“Save your tears beautiful,” August retorted, his voice once again so soft it chilled your very core. He shifted his entire weight between your straddled thighs, and leaned in to kiss the wetness below your eye, “you won’t be needing it anymore.”

His tongue slipped out to collect the briny liquid that gathered on your cheek, and another hum of delight rumbled in his chest as his covered cock unmistakably ground against your mound, “I am your man from now on, might as well accept it and let me do whatever I want.”

Shivering under him, you took a deep breath, your body already swaying in demand as you felt him throbbing beneath the soft fabric of his pants. To your own horror, your head fell into a slow nod of shameful consent. 

It wasn’t just August you were afraid of, but also for yourself.    

[cupidsintern]

shot thru the heart, pt 4

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3

-

Billy was obviously in a pretty foul mood when Steve saw him at school the next day. He didn’t throw Steve a little “hey” of a nod like he’d started doing recently. Didn’t even really look up when Steve sat down. Steve figured Billy probably noticed someone stole his notebook which may or may not have had part of a love letter in the back of it and probably wanted to murder and or never again speak to whoever did it, but then again, maybe he just thought it had been lost?

Steve pulled shit out of his backpack in silence, even as their classmates talked around them, and Steve realized that recently, he and Billy had mostly only been talking to each other. Steve would have to go back to passing full days of school in next to silence if Billy found out about the notebook, and just when things were getting good

The classroom door opened.

A girl- Ellen something? was standing in the doorway in a red pleated skirt and one of those headbands with the hearts on springs. She was holding a basket of roses and a couple teddy bears- Oh my god.

“Valentine grams-” She was explaining to the teacher. As if Steve’s day could not get worse.

The test was going to be postponed for the three excruciating minutes it would take for her to compare notes with the seating chart and one by one hand out Valentines and Steve would just have to sit there wallowing in jealousy and misery.

Steve realized too late that the girl- Ellen… crap, Ellen Studebacker? He thinks?- little headband hearts bobbing, was walking over to him.

“Hi Steve,” Ellen smiled at him, tugging a red rose from her basket and handing it to him like she had probably done a hundred times this week. But he was special, everyone knew him.

The class chattered a little more- someone whistled, someone else laughed- Steve might as well have been deaf to all of it. He wasn't expecting a Valentine gram, only managed a “uh, thanks.” to the girl before she bobbed off on her merry way, and the teacher told them all to quiet down.

Steve got a Valentine gram. He had, a lot going on in his head right now. Way more than there usually was. He stayed up to an ungodly hour last night, later than he had since… you know. But he just couldn’t sleep, he’d felt like someone coated him in slime and he kept getting up to brush his teeth or pace and try hard as he could not to give in a jerk off-

But now he has this. A little heart shaped piece of paper with glitter and lace glued to it to let him know, some girl out there still thinks about him enough to send him a cheesy valentine. What was that thing Billy had said?

Plenty of bitches in the sea.

God he sounded like such a scumbag. Come to find out the guy writes sappy love letters, Steve could almost laugh. He opened up the little Valentine, carefully sliding the rose upright into his backpack before turning back to read:

To: Steve Harrington

2nd Period Class: Room 48

From:

Last category empty, instead of a name, or a “your secret admirer,” the sender had drawn a heart, with an arrow through it. Cartoonish blood dripped off the arrow’s tip.

The swerve of the uppercase S. The line on the H. The tail on the G.

And that stupid shot-through heart.

Steve’s own heart rate reached a yet-to-be-possible BPM he’d know that stupid perfect handwriting anywhere. It was Billy’s handwriting.

Billy sent this.

For a full couple of seconds, Steve drew a complete blank. Nothing happened, he didn’t blink, didn’t move, his heart didn’t beat, he wasn't even sure he breathed.

Then a million different thoughts came crashing down around his ears- almost made him flinch.

Oh my god Billy sent this. To him.

Was this for real? Was this some kind of sick fucked-up-Billy joke? He was just doing it to fuck with Steve’s head- but no. Then he probably would have signed it. Or written some random girl’s name. Not- not drawn a heart. Like the ones he drew in the margins of his notes,

And if Billy was… you know. That would actually make a lot of sense as to why he was such a fucking douchebag.

But what if he wasn't! God but what if he was.

Did he know about Steve?

But god, there wasn't anything to know was there. Steve didn’t- he had never-

Shit, they had a test in class right now, and Steve was sitting with an arrow through his chest and little fucking cartoon hearts around his head.

-

It was just like the universe to make Billy’s main notebook go missing the day before a big fucking test. It was even more like it to set him up to be running on no hours of sleep and sit down in second period to find those stupid fucking Valentine grams being handed out.

In the split seconds before Steve’s name got called, Billy sort of hoped the gram he bought had been lost. They were pretty anonymous to buy, that’s what he’d said to himself when he filled one out, folded it up more times than necessary and jammed it in the little heart shaped box. But now, faced with the consequences of his moment of weakness, he could not be filled with more regret.

Harrington just sat there too, looking dumbstruck turning the Valentine over and over before the test started. Like he wasn’t a bombshell on the worst of hair days- he didn’t even have bad hair days.

Billy was determined to not look, not stare at the back of Steve’s head like he had every other day this year. But for the split second he looked up, Steve was turned ever so slightly to the side, his perfect nose and perfect forelock illuminated by the sunshine pouring in from dusty classroom windows. He was smelling the rose.

Billy left class as quick as he could, the test was pretty easy, but no doubt Harrington would still be in there struggling for at least ten minutes, which gave Billy more than enough time to cool his nerves before steve inevitably cae to find him at lunch like he’d done for the past couple days, just to say hi.

But he didn’t see Steve at lunch. Probably should be a relief, but Billy couldn’t help but feel his heart sinking a little. And then kicking himself for caring at all when really he shouldn't. This was nothing, just like all the other times.

Billy went to switch textbooks at his locker, more of a nerd move than he would usually allow himself but he wanted to at the very least have an okay school day.

But when he went to open his backpack, there was his notebook. He did a double take. He could have sworn the thing was missing. He had dumped his backpack out and turned it inside out on his bedroom floor, got pencil shavings all over the place in the process, and it wasn't there.

But now here it was. Billy opened it.

A note fell out.

“I took your notebook- sorry. Here’s it and the notes back. Probably be easier to study together sometime anyway. If you’re still down.

Thanks for the rose.”

Billy probably had six separate heart attacks in the span of the couple seconds it took to read the note over again. Then he laughed out loud, in the heart-splattered hallway right in front of his locker, didn't care if anyone looked at him weird.

“Thanks for the rose.”

-

this was gonna be the last part but honestly i might write one more just cause i want them to kiss. lmk what u think lads :3

[kanene-yaaay]

Talks, Teases and Tea

Warnings: I can’t think of any. They’re just talking about boundaries and lightly teasing and tickling ech other. Brief Ler!Aizawa and Lee!Hizashi with implied Lee!Toshinori. About 2500 words.

Kanene’s notes: Heya! I’ve been wanting to finish this fic for a while! I wanted to write a bit more about it because it is an interesting scenario but dfghjdfghjr I was already losing the tracks with this quite long fic, so, yay! I am glad I am finally sharing this w u all <3. I hope u like this ^v^

[~*~]

Toshinori winced at his own smile, staring at the cup of tea in front of him with an intensity that wasn't really needed. His gaze flicked quickly across the two guests in the room, analysing the situation. Aizawa drank his tea slowly, partly oblivious to Hizashi, who kept drumming his finger on the tabletop in a rhythm he was sure he heard somewhere, humming a song. Their gazes locked together and Toshinori couldn't help the slight blush which traveled to his cheeks. They quickly averted their eyes.

Aizawa's loud, exasperated sigh flew across the room. "You two are ridiculous."

Hizashi and Toshinori broke down in giggles, not really denying the black haired teacher words, the acknowledgement of how they, professional heroes trained to act through the nervousness and pressure, just spent minutes deviating glares and blushing like teenagers in love making them only laugh harder.

"It's kind of silly, isn't it?" Yagi was the first to get himself together, softly smiling under Shouta's intense eyes.

"Yes." The aforementioned retorted. "But it's necessary."

"We can't say it isn't even a bit awkward, though." Hizashi contemplated, stirring a spoon on his untouched drink. His smile became wicked as he wiggled his fingers in front of Aizawa's face. "Aren't you nervous about sharing your deepest desires with us, Shou?"

He yelped as the other batted his hand away, scoffing, not unkindly. "Stop, you're scaring Toshinori."

The attention switched to the taller one. Showing vulnerability was difficult to all of them, but to the former number one hero it sometimes felt as if he would never be able to fully do it.

He was working on that.

"Oh, shit, sorry,  I didn't mean to."

"It's okay, Hizashi-san." Yagi scratched at his neck, wondering if the hot feeling painting his cheeks would ever disappear. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't trust you with it." His grin was small, but honest.

Aizawa did his best to not get up from his chair and hide Toshinori on his capture weapon before he killed him with cuteness, just as he did with his cats. At his side, Hizashi made a show of placing his hands on his chest and crying "My heart!" dramatically as if he just got shot. All Might's face got even redder.

"Right." The erasure hero started before his urge became stronger. "Let's start with a safeword."

"Right." Yagi beamed, getting a small notepad in hands and hurrying to find a blank space on it. 

He looked up when no more suggestions filled the air, only to find a very amused green gaze staring right at him as the other grumbled something about not being awake enough for that and stole Hizashi's tea. "Toshi, dear, what are you doing?"

"I'm, uh, actually I…" He cleaned his throat. "My memory is kind of bad so I was wondering that I could, maybe, take notes?”

"Will they be coded?"

"Yes."

“Then I don’t care. Do what works for you.”

"Oooh," Yamada popped in, hands resting on the tabletop as his body inclined forward. "Clever! Such a clever idea! Can you teach it to me later? And let me take pictures?"

"O-of course, Hizashi-san."

Shouts huffed, amused. "You know he will use all that information against you, right?"

"Shhh! Shou, don’t expose my evil plan!"

"Maybe we could use the Spotlight system?" Yagi cut their bickering, knowing the lengths they could take their playfulness and he really doubted he would have the courage to finish this conversation another day.

"Bo-o-ring! We should choose something more unique and new! Something more like..." The blonde's eyes suddenly gathered a dangerous glint. "I am here."

"No."

"Absolutely not."

"No, no, no, Toshinori-san, hear me out, hear me out!" His words almost couldn't be understood across his crackles, the voice hero trying to make the Number One hero to stop hiding his face, knowing that any attempt of reasoning about this with Aizawa would be quickly ignored. "Think about it! Think carefully about it!"

The called one peaked between the fingers of the hand, opening his mouth to vehemently protest against the use of his hero persona’s trademark phrase, but then, in that exact moment Yamada pointed to Shouta.

Suddenly, a very clear image of his gloomy, reserved coworker, with a gigantic smile plastered on his face shouting "I am here!" between his frantic, low laughter filled his mind.

He took a steady breath.

"I am tempted," was his final verdict.

"Yes!"

"I refuse."

"Democracy is really a bitch isn't it?" Hizashi pouted in fake empathy. "I promise I won't tease you... too much."

"I can and will kill you both before that. I am an underground hero, I have my ways."

Yagi chuckled. "I still believe we could use the spotlight system, too. It's faster."

"Noo, Toshinori-san! We were almost winning!"

Aizawa flicked him on the forehead, lips quirking upwards before he sobered. "We also need a word to signal a need for a break and a non verbal one. That is not negotiable."

Hizashi blinked, red dusking his initially confident expression. "Oh, yeah, this is actually a very good idea."

"For the non verbal we could tap out?"

"Nope. I trash around too much, probably would do this without even realizing it…" How could Yamada talk so freely about this, Yagi would never truly understand. "Ah, I know! We could just snap our fingers!” He was fast to demonstrate his words. “Quick and easy!"

"And we could use Break as the other one, everyone agrees?" Aizawa nodded at the affirmative sounds said by the others. "Good. Bondage?"

Silence.

"I am… not very comfortable with it as the ler, but…" Hizashi drummed his fingers harder on the tabletop, stopping only when Aizawa gave his mug back, happy in occupying his antsy hands with it. "Sometime... When I am in a strong Lee mood, I like the light ones?"

"Always ask before, then." Yagi smiled kindly at him before scribbling that down. "Shouta-san?"

"Yes. Just not my arms."

"Right."

"And you Toshinori-san?"

The pencil stopped for a second. Yagi chuckled nervously. 

"...I don't really know."

He couldn't describe it. That not quite quite, but definitely there, feeling that accommodated on his chest everytime he thought about it.

"It's okay." Yamada reassured. "It's never too late to discover and try it! When you feel comfortable enough to do that, of course. Also, don’t forget: just one word and we will stop."

"This talk is important exactly because of that."

Warmth filled Yagi’s chest at care and the safety that flowed from each act, each word from the other two.

"Of course." His tune then became serious. When did he get so soft in the first place? "And, if any of your preferences change, warn me. This needs to be comfortable for all of us, right?"

"Will do."

Shouta hummed in agreement.

"Okay. Aaand what about petnames?"

Suddenly, Yagi was very, very happy for having that conversation in person and not through shy, quick messages in their shared group - how he first intended for it to be,- because otherwise he wouldn't have had the gold opportunity to watch how fast Aizawa’s face was able to blush entirely with a single sentence.

The Erasure Hero lifted his gaze, gave a quick glance between Hizashi’s smug expression and Toshinori’s truly awed one and immediately shrunk on his chair, arms crossed and grumpy grubbles being chewed under his breath, the red on his features still shining brightly. 

“Fuck.” Both of the other two integrants in the room snickered at the curse.

“Baaabeee.~”

“Shut up. I hate you.”

“My deeear, my adorably, adorable blushy toyy.~”

Shouta twitched in his place, an uncontrollable wobbly smile opening its way to his lips, butterflies jumping and dancing non stop on his stomach. He shrunk even further on the chair, refusing to hide his face only because he knew how much of a fuel that would be for both blondes.

(And, maybe because deep down, he liked the attention he was receiving.) 

“I am going to leave.”

“Aww, why? The serious, grumpy Shouta can’t stand letting his bestest friends knowing that he is actually a soft, adorable, flustered-” at each adjective Hizashi ignored the other’s - admitelly fake - sharp gaze in order to poke his stomach with every word. “-little wiggle lee?”

It took just a blink of an eye. In a second Yamada was tormenting him, having an absolute blast with the way Shouta’s blush was travelling all the way to his neck, chest shaking with his attempts to trap the bubbling giggles inside, and, on the other, the underground hero used their proximity to grab the Voice Hero’s hand and twist him so the blond would be trapped on his arms, a surprised high pitched sound flying the air.

“I would be very careful with my next words, if I were you.” The black haired hero adjusted them so his low tune would hit directly Hiazhi’s unprotected, and also very sensitive, ears, that act alone being able to fish more whining noises from the blond.

“And you.” Toshinori couldn’t help the way his soft smile turned into a nervous one when those black, deep eyes stared directly on the bottom of his soul, the redness of his face taking some of the sharpness of his words, however. “Don’t think you’re out of danger just because there is a table between us. We know I’m faster.”

“I wouldn’t dream about it, Shouta-san.” Yagi replied with an amused placating gesture, his entire face filled with softness. “I was just appreciating how considerate and attentive it was from Hizashi-san’s part to bring up such an important topic and also how great it was for you to let him have some fun before your immediate reaction.”

He watched with a sweet interest and a polite faked confusion, as if he couldn’t understand the impact his words and the implications they held, as their faces were set on flames again with his blunt honesty. 

“You’re on thin fucking ice.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Shouta-san!” The former number one hero chipped before innocently writing down a few more lines on his notes.

“Yagi-san!” Yamada whined. “I thought we were a team! Partners in crime! Two forces that gathered together to bring Shouta down. How could you betray me like that?!”

Toshinori just grinned free of any guilt, not taking long before he sobered again. “Is there, however, any nickname you’re not comfortable with, Shouta-san, Hizashi-san?”

The one with vivid green eyes seemed lost in thought for a moment, so the underground hero’s grumbles were easily noticed in the sudden silence.

“Just don’t call me any variation of ‘pet’ and you’ll be fine.”

“Thank you.” Toshinori replied, writing that information down as well.

“Oh, yeah, I just remembered something. It’s not really a nickname and more of a situation? I think it can be called that?” Hizashi cocked his head to the side, fingers tapping on the temple of his glasses. “I mean, it’s not the topic here and I can wait for when talk about it, of course! I just literally remembered it-”

“Hizashi. Spill it.”

“Right. Okay. Hm, don’t call for help while we’re at it?”

Shouta furrowed his eyebrows, not really getting the reason for the wish. His gaze found Yagi’s one and found confusion there as well, however both were quick to let it be buried  away by understanding.

If Hizashi wanted to share his reasoning in the future, he would. It was not in their place to question his boundaries.

“Of course, dear.”

Hizashi could barely describe the warm, nice feeling filling his chest when he heard Toshinori calling him that, immediately melting when Aizawa gave his back a few light scratches, not enough to tickle, but just the nice tad of a good, comforting gesture.

“Softies, softies. All of you.” He sing sang cheerfully at them.

A squeeze on his tummy made a loud squeal cut any other teasing he might come up with. “I can show Yagi how soft you can be.” Aizawa purred, his hands slowly crawling to strategic, ticklish spots on his belly and thighs. 

“Shouta. Shouta, wait! Y-you know I was only kidding, my dear, my sunshine, my old pal, my very kind, very, very forgiving friend!” Yamada’s wiggles become stronger, titters spilling from his lips in between his pleas, body squirming and trying to escape from the other’s still strong hold.

“Don’t think you will able to escape so easily, not after the whole ‘petnames’ topic you decided to bring up.” His titters evolved to fast giggles when Aizawa decided it would be a good idea to place surprising pokes and prodding on his skin. “Also, a serious, sad face doesn’t fit you.”

“We stihihill have to finish the conversation!” Aizawa hummed, not convinced. “Yagi, my hero, tell him!”

Toshinori wouldn’t point himself as a coward, really. He had faced and battled against all kinds of villains with a reassuring smile and a booming laughter on the tip of his tongue, he had survived a meeting with Nedzu and Gran Tourino’s training.

However, as Aizawa’s smirk was thrown in his direction in sync with a sharp, playful gaze, he couldn’t stop the excited squeak that escaped from his mouth.

Also, at the scene of a previously smug Yamada giggling himself silly and staring at him with a fake pout, maybe he couldn’t help but feel a little playful, as well. Besides, even though he would deny it until his end days, Yagi knew how much soft Aizawa truly was when it came to the people he cared about, therefore the underground hero would be careful to not cross any of the blond’s boundaries. 

“Oh, my, it seems like the tea is cold.” He got up, gathering the cups on his arms. “Maybe we could take a deserved break before discussing the rest of the topics, right? I will make more tea.” And he grinned, light and innocently, at Hizashi’s energetic protests, which grew more less like words and more like a mess of laughter, snorts and giggles as the tallest friend directed himself to the kitchen.

After a few more minutes of tickles, Aizawa stared at the smiley mess on his hold with a dangerous shine on his eyes.

“You’re really a tickle monster, aren’t you?” Hizashi chuckled.

“It’s not my fault that he really believes he can escape from the same fate of yours.”

Yamada huffed a laugh, lightly smacking his arms. “Go. But soon enough I will catch my breath, so don’t forget to watch your back. ~”

Aizawa gave his hips a warning pinch before snorting as he got up, looking at the kitchen’s direction with a smirk on his face. “Good luck with that.”

Needless to say, they had a very giggly break.

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

I’m On Fire [Chapter 1]

Summary: With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.

A/N:  This is the first part in a series, I’ve written the first few chapters already so I’m hoping to update pretty regularly! I hope you guys enjoy, and any feedback is always appreciated! ❤️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby

Warnings: None really for this chapter, cursing? Mean-ish Spencer

Word Count: 6.5k

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist 

I wasn’t at the BAU long before it started to feel like home. The team became my family, pure and simple.

Having been recruited by Hotch at only 22 I'd sort of fallen into the roll of the little sister to the team without really meaning to. It's not that I was naive, or particularly sheltered even. I know I'm good at my job, and I'd want to be, given how my life's revolved around it almost entirely. But the team seemed to adopt a protective mindset over me right off the bat.

When I first joined the FBI everything was terrifying. I worked so hard for my PhD, trying to get into the unit, but there's almost nothing that can actually prepare you for the real thing. Being out in action in the field, working the cases out in real time. Sometimes they had a smooth, easy conclusion followed by loud obnoxious drinks together. Then there were the others, the ones that kept me up for days after and felt as though they owned little pieces of my heart still.

It was JJ that helped the most on those horrible flights back on the jet. Noticing my anxious ticks and uneasy disposition after that first case that had ended badly. JJ had been through it all before, taking too many cases home with her. Seeing her son's little faces in the kids that we couldn't help. If I was the baby of the team JJ was the big sister, looking out for everyone.

Morgan on the other hand was the outrageously cool older brother, the one you just wanted to be. Early on he'd helped my weak self with the ruthless fitness regimen the FBI required, he offered to pull some strings and get the test written off. But I couldn't accept that, there was something in me that just wanted to impress Morgan, and honestly still does. Like somehow if he thought you were cool, then it became true. So I passed the exam, but getting up a flight of stairs was near impossible for a week after.

Emily was probably the fun aunt. The one that would sneak you booze at the family gathering, or take you to your first concert. Emily was actually the one who'd found me, digging around colleges for potential recruits she'd had me picked out for a while I later found out. Insisting that Hotch give me a shot. It was reassuring to know I had someone who would stick up for me from day one.

I was an tech analyst, among other things, sort of a counterpart for Garcia in the field. So it was no surprise to anyone when the two of us hit it off as though we'd known each other forever. We weren't the same by any means though. Penelope was bold, and bright, and confident beyond measure, where I've typically felt like more of a blend into the background type. I've always thought of myself that way, despite my achievements. I'd also always believed I was fairly inoffensive, no one I'd met had ever had a huge problem with me, 'till I got to the BAU that is.

Every rose has its thorn I suppose.

That thorn in my side was Dr. Spencer Reid.

It wasn't that Dr. Reid was a bad agent, or even a bad person. I hadn't actually met him before that first day in the conference room, but I'd known who he was for a long time. Before I came along he'd held the mantle of 'youngest ever recruit' in the unit, while I was studying I'd read any of his work I could get my hands on because of that fact.

I figured it must've been some sort of hazing when he looked me up and down that first day I was introduced, and then proceeded to blank me entirely for a full week. Up until I'd wrapped my first case.

The whole team went straight from the jet to the bar. Proceeding to get far too drunk. Spencer joined, which the rest of the team found unusual, and I probably should've taken as a sign of things to come.

That case went well, and everyone was in high spirits but Reid had a sour disposition, at least it seemed that way every time he looked at me. After a few too many drinks I went outside in an attempt to sober up in the cold air, unfortunately Reid must've snuck outside not long before.

"Ugh" was all he said when he first caught my silhouette approaching him. The night was unusually cold so it had been deserted outside the bar that evening. I wasn't really sure why it made me nervous to be alone with him like this, the two of us leaning back against the same small area of brick wall, looking out at the cold night.

"Nice to see you too doctor" was all I could muster, I was drunk enough that I let my sarcastic tone leap out, "you can relax, I'm just trying to get some fresh air, it's too stuffy in there, and loud. I'm not here to talk to you or anything."

"Well aren't you a sensitive thing" he responds in kind, at that point I wasn't really sure if it was a coincidence or if he'd been genuinely avoiding me, but things were starting to clear up.

"I'm sensitive, that's a fun take on things" I joke, taking a long sip of cold water from my glass.

"And what's that supposed to mean, newbie?" his emphasis on the last word all but confirms my suspicions.

"Fuck man, what's your problem with me? Is it because I'm new, or because I beat your stupid record?" I quip. hoping that at the very least it might coax him out of his shell. Dr. Spencer Reid getting angry at me could honestly be better than the nothing I'd been experiencing from him until now.

"What stupid record?" he sounds genuinely confused

"I'm the youngest BAU recruit now?" I didn't know why else he could be so sour. He'd never met me before last week, and since he'd ignored me that first day I'd done all I could not to step on his toes. So if he had a reason to hate me this much, it wasn't something I'd done on purpose.

He takes a few moments to respond, raising his eyebrows and considering the information. He chuckles. He fucking chuckles.

"That's funny." he says, his voice leveling out, "I didn't peg you as funny newbie" that word sets something off in me again. Something about it is dismissive, or belittling. Before I could fight back he starts to move, maneuvering around me and heading back inside. A little too tipsy to think of anything constructive to say, I just mutter "Fuck you Spencer."

He swings open the door, as he walks inside he just says "See you Monday, Newbie" without even looking at me.

And that was only the beginning.

----

"You know I'm just trying to make sure you get enough rest sweetheart. There's no need to get so defensive!" it was far too early in the morning to be dealing with this call. Since joining the BAU a few years ago this was a standard call from my Mom. Equal parts well meaning and over-bearing, and generally asking far too many questions.

"I'm not getting defensive Mom, I get plenty of rest, my job is just very important to me and you know that." I knew she was right to be at least a little worried, this job was consuming, and in all honesty I wasn't sure how people like JJ were married and still here. It seemed like an impossible feat.

"Fine sweetie, how are your co-workers doing then? How's Penelope? Give her my love" she loved Penelope, I think she thought that Penelope tethered me to the normal world, and in a way she was right. She kept me sane, and fun, and made me eat pizza and do face masks once a week at least. Even when I didn't think I wanted to.

"Pen's great Mom, everyone's good. Well, the usual ones get on my nerves, but I'm fine." As I say it I glance across at Dr. Reid, the only person who's also in as early as I am most days. I'm not sure if he can hear me but he's tapping his pen so loud on his desk that it takes all of my energy not to walk across the bullpen and stab him with it.

"Y'know what Mom, I'm actually just after getting to work and it's a busy day so can I call you back later?" I chance, getting her off the phone is always an ordeal.

"Fine, fine, I'll let you go. But wait one last thing!"

I knew what was coming. It was always coming.

"Are you seeing anyone, Margot's been wondering too, just thought I'd check in?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose and trying not to scream down the line, I just sigh out the frustration instead.

"No Mom, believe it or not, I've made no progress on that front since you asked me all of 3 days ago."

"See you are being defensive!" she snaps

"I gotta go, bye Mom. Love you!" I say, hanging up quickly before dropping my head down into my arms on my desk, resting like that for a few moments in silence.

Hearing Garica chuckle behind my ear I perk up and spin around. She's holding a small paper cup of coffee and hands it to me. I look at it confused, "Sorry about the paper, I couldn't find your mug in the cabinet" she apologizes, looking over at Dr. Reid and rolling her eyes. Now I know he can hear me from his seat, he takes that moment to sip from my mug and place it gently back on his desk.

It hadn't taken long for him to start toying with me. It was always stupid childish things. Things I couldn't get genuinely annoyed at, that would give him far too much satisfaction, knowing he was getting to me in any real way. This was one trick he liked to play if he got into the office before me, he'd take my mug and make his coffee in it, just to spite me I guess.

"Why does he even do that, it's so stale" she said, just a little louder than normal to make sure he could hear. Garcia and Reid were still good friends and team-mates but she liked to stand up for me when she could. He liked to avoid me as much as possible so he'd usually go to Garcia before me if he needed help with something. Even when the two of us were out in the field together. Which was obnoxious but it was just another thing I'd gotten used to over time. And as long as it didn’t interfere with the case I just forced myself to let it go.

"I know it's such low grade bullying isn't it?" I shot back with a chuckle.

"So I'll take it that was Mommy dearest" Penelope gestures to my phone. She knew my Mom, and she knew about her general overbearing energy. I let out a groan thinking about the call again, and the calls that were to come.

"Isn't it always Mommy dearest?" I joke

"So she's still on your ass about the wedding then?" I'm sure Penelope was almost as sick of hearing about it as I was,

"Margot's getting married in like 4 months now, and every time Mom calls there’s just some new hometown loser she wants to set me up with Pen. It's fucking exhausting" I take a sip of the coffee she made me, savoring the bitter taste. She sits down on my desk for a moment, leaning in.

"Honey, did you ever think that if you got out there and found someone, she wouldn't be on your ass at all?" I don't want to think about that, about how she's completely right. All I can do is let out another small groan and lean back down onto my desk.

"Too early Pen" I say, it's muffled by the desk but she gets the message. Hopping up and heading to her own office as some more people start to arrive for the morning.

Leaving me alone to make a start on my paperwork that had built up throughout the week. Fridays were usually slow like this, giving me a little too much time to think. I couldn't shake the thought that my Mom and Penelope were actually right. Maybe I was a bit too invested in the job, and maybe that was a pretty big factor in why my last relationship imploded but I wasn't about to admit that to anyone.

----

After that the day crawls by, thankfully no cases pop up so the weekend might actually be free. Trying to make sure I clear up all of my paperwork takes a little longer than I'd hoped and leaves me alone in the bullpen. It seems like everyone's gone home by the time I've packed up and I'm ready to leave. Which wasn't as out of the ordinary as I'd like it to be really. Everyone else seemed to have somewhere to be on a Friday night.

Waiting for the elevator to arrive my phone started to ring, I could see my Mom's caller ID on the screen. If I just let it go I know she'll call back later, may as well get it out of the way. I take a deep breath in anticipation before I answer.

"Hey what's up?" I answer, stepping inside the elevator as the doors ping open.

"Hi sweetie, I've got good news! Do you remember David? That lovely boy, he helped out your Father that summer in high school?" I know what's coming and rub my temple, trying to stifle the headache I know is coming. As I answer a hand slides between the elevator doors, popping them open again.

Dr. Fucking Reid walks in, and he looks about as happy to see me as I am to see him. I make eye contact and look away just as fast, willing him away with my mind. "Yes Mom, I remember him, why are you telling me this?" I already know the answer but I'm fed up, she still sounds excited when she responds.

"Well you won't believe it! I ran into him at the market this morning and I thought you'd like it if I passed on your phone number to him, maybe for the weddi-" it took all I had not to shout into the receiver, and maybe I would've had the elevator been empty.

"Mom! Jesus!" I have to reign myself in, but I have a bad idea, "You know what, I'm actually sorted. I've got a date lined up now" I'm not sure why I said it with no real plan in place. She sounds even more excited than I've ever heard her.

"Oh my, that's amazing sweetie! That was fast, I can't believe you found one since this morning, it's someone from work so?" she assumes, and I'm just not thinking fast enough to correct her.

"Mmhmm, yeah" I'll figure out the logistics later I rationalize.

"Oh! Is it that boy you're always on about, the one who teases you?" she asks, and her voice is full of joy, and it makes me feel horrible that I'm lying already, and that I'm going to let her down.

"Yup, that's the one, look Mom I gotta go, I'll talk to you later! Night" I blurt out so fast it has to be obvious I'm nervous.

I can hear a stifled chuckle behind me. Fuck. How loud is my phone speaker. Could he hear that. Surely not. But this elevator was completely silent. The doors open and I have to stop myself from running to my car at top speed. Instead I walk out just a little faster than normal, turning around to shoot him a small wave goodbye. And he's got this devious smirk on his face that makes my stomach turn.

Sitting into my car I pull out my phone to text Garcia immediately.

I'm on my way to yours right now. It's urgent.

——

Traffic's light so it takes maybe 10 minutes before I arrive at Garcia's place. My mind's racing and my body takes me there on autopilot. Why did I say any of that, why did I even answer the damn phone. Why did I wave goodbye to Spencer, I never usually did that. Maybe that's why he had that look on his face. Maybe he was just thinking of something funny that happened earlier and it had nothing to do with me at all. That was something he'd do to mess with me for sure.

How was I going to walk this back with my Mom, she was just gonna have more questions that I couldn't answer. Fuck.

Garcia buzzed me up and her door was open for me by the time I got up the stairs. This little purple apartment had become my second home. It was where I spent most of my evenings off, laughing on the same sofa I was collapsing face first into right now. Garcia nestles in beside me and runs her hand over my hair, "Hey sweet pea, what's happening? I don't want to sound too concerned but you're not giving me much to go off? Are you dying, is there drama? You're going to have to tell me what's so urgent before I burst a blood vessel?"

I let out a muffled, "is drahmuh" into the pillow, Garcia shakes my shoulders.

"Sit up babe, damn!" I have to heave myself out of the pillows, sitting upright on the sofa beside her, clutching one of the pillows in my arms.

"It's drama" I repeat,

"Well, out with it then, you know I'll take all the drama I can get! Spill, spill" she rushes me along. I'm already apprehensive, Reid's her coworker too, but if anyone would understand why this was such an issue it was gonna be her.

"Okay, I'm after doing something stupid and I think I really need your advice" I cringe already, thinking back to the elevator, throwing out my words faster, I continue the story, mostly trying to get it over with, "my Mom called again when I was on the way out tonight and she was trying to set me up with this guy, and Reid was there, and I got all flustered, and I told her I had a date already" I throw my head down into the pillow again.

"Wait why was Reid there?" she looks like she's trying to fit puzzle pieces together and she's getting nowhere, "And what's the drama?"

"Shit Garcia, it was in the elevator and it was all quiet, and maybe he heard the call, maybe he didn't but he had this fuckin' look on his stupid face" I can't shake the smug little smirk, it's burned inside my eyelids. Garcia's face falls in what looks like disappointment.

"Ugh Y/N! That's nothing chill out, why does it matter if he heard your call? I know you guys are all weird but none of that is any of his business anyway!" she shoo's her hand in the air, dismissing the whole situation.

"No Garcia, it is his business now" I have to close my eyes when I say it, I can't look at her "I told my Mom that he was my date, well, I didn't say his name or anything, she assumed it was someone from work and so I just agreed, and then she suggested that it was him and then I fucking panicked Pen, I fucked up so bad. What do I do?"

I finally opened my eyes to look up at Garcia. She was sitting in pure silence, pursing her lips in what seemed like contemplation. The puzzle pieces finally slotting together. It's as though a light bulb goes off behind her eyes and she bursts out in fits of laughter. Doubling over on herself before finally taking a few breaths to calm herself down. I'm honestly not sure why she finds the whole thing so funny, she know's how needlessly annoying he's made my life, she's seen it first hand and heard me talk about it over and over again in this very apartment over pizza.

"Garcia, this is not fucking funny! This is serious!" I try to calm her down, I need advice not whatever this is.

"I'm so sorry Y/N, I love you dearly. But this isn't funny, this is hilarious. It's like you're Sandra Bullock in some mid-90's rom com. I love it" I don't love it, in fact I hate it. I nearly snap at her but pull myself back.

"Pen, come on, help me out. What do I do with this, how do I fix it?" I plead.

She stops laughing and pulls out her phone, "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm going to order us a pizza, and we're gonna sort this thing out together, sound good?" I just nod and collapse back into the sofa. I think I feel better now that I've gotten it out in the open.

----

Penelope makes us tea while we wait for the pizza, she keeps lemon & ginger in her cabinet for me, just like I keep mint for her. The warm mug and the steam calm me down. After a few minutes alone to think about it I start to figure it out a little better. I figure I can just lie to my Mom for a while, it might suck but I can pretend for a bit and then make up some excuse as to why he can't come closer to the time. Then I can just bring Garcia instead and everyone's happy. I'm about to float my plan to her there's a knock on her door. I was so caught up that I hadn't really noticed quite how starving I'd gotten. Leaping up of the sofa to grab the door.

I swing it open but it's not the pizza guy. Somehow it's the opposite of the pizza guy, my worst nightmare is on the other side of the door. He must notice my eyes blow completely wide. "Y/N!" he says, more of a statement than a question really, like he's telling himself that he's actually seeing me in the doorway. I'm not as gentle.

"What the fuck are you doing here Reid?!" I can't even disguise my anger. He seems a little flustered, like he's got absolutely no idea how to proceed.

"Um, uh, is Garcia here? I can, um, I can just come back later?" he swallows hard and shakes his head, before I can agree and tell him to get lost Penelope races to the door, pulling it wide open.

"Nope, that won't be necessary Doctor! Come on in, you're right on time sweetheart" she waves him in and he walks past me, his demeanor changing almost instantly. He's smug, like he's won whatever battle this was. And I hate it. Though he's still as confused as me despite the newfound attitude. Reid sits down on the sofa, right where I had been sitting. I bite my tongue and sit on the opposite end.

"Are you okay Garcia?" he asks with a genuine concern, "What's going on, what was the emergency?". He's not stupid, he knows she's not in danger now that he's here. But he wants answers. I don't know that I've ever seen him this confrontational with anyone, well anyone but me. The entire time I’m staring her down as she sits in the armchair opposite the two of us. My keys are in my pocket and my car's right outside. I could just jump up and make a break for it. Escape.

"You know what Doc, you won't believe it but I'm not actually the one with the emergency" she takes a beat, and I'm starting to think that I might understand why people murder other people after all these years, "Y/N has something urgent she needs to talk to you about" she's silent for another moment, and she almost looks giddy, "Actually Spencer, you might already know a little something about the matter already, now that I think about it" she smirks, and it's pure joy.

My keys are in my hand ready to bolt when the doorbell chimes again. "Oh, that'll actually be the pizza this time, if you two will excuse me" she hops up out of the armchair and races to the door, leaving the two of us alone in a horrible silence. The tension is almost too much, I want to speak but I really have no idea what to say, or how to even start saying it. But he starts.

"Y/N what's going on, I feel like I'm out of the loop here? What am I missing?" he asks, and there's something uncharacteristically genuine about the way he says it, but he can't turn to look at me as he speaks. I almost want to let my guard down and just have a conversation but I can’t force myself to do it. "Shut up Reid." is all I mutter, folding my arms across my chest.

He turns sharply on the sofa to face me. "Hey Y/N. Believe it or not I'm about as happy as you with whatever kind of Parent Trap situation Garcia's got going on here. But from what I'm picking up on you've got a problem and I'm supposed to be able to help with it. So do you want to tell me what's going on or not? I can just go?" I can see that there's an anger bubbling right below the surface, threatening to burst. I know I shouldn't but I let him stew in silence for a little too long and he jumps up off the sofa.

"Y'know what, typical" he mutters, rolling his eyes as he says it, "this is all about you." he throws his bag over his shoulders and begins to walk towards the door. Something in me just snaps.

"All about me?! Are you fucking kidding? I've been tip-toeing around you for years, ever since I joined this damn unit!" I shout as Garcia comes back into the room, pizza box and plates in her hands.

"So, who's hungry?" Garcia asks, trying to break the tension, or pretending there's no tension at all. Reid shakes his head in disbelief and rubs his temple before he speaks again, "Actually I was just gonna head out" he gestures to the door, "I'm clearly not wanted here so I'm gonna leave you guys to it." Spencer makes a move to leave but Garcia grabs the strap of his shoulder bag, yanking him back ever so slightly before he really has the chance to escape.

"You are going absolutely nowhere kid" She points back to the sofa, "get back there" she glances to me, staring with far too much intensity. "You too, sit." Her voice is more stern than I've ever heard it, even while we were on a case. I can't help but obey her command and I sit back down on the sofa in silence. Followed by Reid, clearly processing the same uneasy feeling of a serious Penelope.

She sits opposite the two of us again. "Y/N, Spencer, I love the two of you with all of my heart, albeit separately, and I would die for either one of you. But you've got to chill the hell out!" she says it like she's had it bottled up forever. The tension that releases from her as she says it looks euphoric.

She opens up the pizza box and lays it on the coffee table and takes out a slice for herself. Taking a bite she leaves the two of us in stunned silence. Once she finishes the mouthful she turns to me specifically, "Y/N you tell him, or I will." dead serious. And the feeling in my belly is like I've just fallen down an elevator shaft.

My stomach is in knots as I turn to Spencer on the sofa next to me. His face is puzzled and I think I might be able to make out pure terror in his expression. I don't know that I've ever been looked at like this before and my stomach screws up tighter. I have to take a deep breath and I can't believe I'm about to say it. "Fuck it" I have to take another breath almost immediately so I just have to force the rest out, "I don't know if you heard the call I was on while we were in the elevator earlier?" I look up to gauge his reaction and I can see his face relax, and worse than that, one corner of his mouth lifts into a sort of smile. It's a look of pure smug satisfaction and I think I might scream. I have to close my eyes because I really don't think I can look at that face as I say the next part.

"My sister is getting married in a few months and my Mom's been on my ass to find a date for the wedding and she keeps trying to set me up with these losers, so I fucking panicked, and I told her you were my date." by the time the sentence is out my eyes have screwed up so tight it feels like I have to pry them open.

He sits in silence for too long. Thinking, maybe?

"So I'm the boy who teases you then?" he grins. So he did hear. And he did laugh. He looks far too self satisfied. Now he knows he's right. He knows I've talked to my Mom about him, that he's gotten in my head. I can tell from his smile that he's savoring the moment. Mostly because I can't slap the smug smile off his face I drop my head into my hands. In an effort to disappear I guess.

"So," he says, taking a moment, "is that all you wanted to say then?" he asks, lighthearted and obnoxious, back to his usual self. I snap back to reality, shooting my head back up.

"What do you mean is that all?" I throw back genuinely shocked,

"Is that all you had to say Y/N? Can I go now? It's a long bus ride home y'know" he smirks but makes no effort to move. He can't possibly be making me do this.

"Well no, obviously!" I stutter, "I mean, are you, will you, uh?" I can't bring myself to say it out loud. He leans in on the sofa looking directly at me, refusing to break eye contact.

"Did you have something you wanted to ask me Y/N?" I just want to smack that fucking look off his face,

"Fuck you Spencer Reid" I almost whisper under my breath, but Garcia snaps me back to reality.

"Hey!" she looks at me, stern again, "Ask him." it's not a question, or a suggestion, it's a command.

"Fine okay" I scrunch my eyes up again, "Will you come to my sisters wedding with me as my fake boyfriend?" I curl up into myself as I say it, I can almost feel the bile rising up from my stomach. Like I'm having a biological reaction to the whole thing.

Reid crosses his arms and sinks back on the sofa, like he's performing the act of thinking. He's considering my offer to make me squirm.

When he finally speaks he says "Well I would Y/N, but I really fail to see what's in it for me" he's after getting cocky now.

Garcia pipes up, excited, "Oh, Oh! I know! I have an idea!" she interjects, "Spencer remember how a while ago, back after your apartment flooded you were all all worried about your antique books and prints and stuff?" he nods, "Well Y/N could digitize the collection for you as a back up? I know you're a technophobe? C'mon Y/N, you know you could do that no sweat, and it would take you a lifetime alone Spencer?" I really don't want to admit it but she's right. Even I knew Reid was adverse to any technology that wasn't vital, but it was your specialty. And maybe that was a good trade off, a job like that would be near impossible for him to pull off without help. I take a glance over at Reid and he seems to have had the same train of thought as me. He lets out an exaggerated sigh and relaxes his posture.

"Fine, I guess that's a fair trade. I'm in." he resigns and I almost can't believe it. I'm barely processing the whole conversation as he sticks his hand out to me, I'm confused for a second before I grab it and shake it firmly. Condemning myself to whatever's about to happen. And it's not the time to be thinking about it but maybe this is the first time Spencer and I have ever touched? But I shove that thought away.

Garcia's positively beaming and she's not even trying to hide it. "Now it's like you're both in a Sandra Bullock movie, oh, but you're Hugh Grant maybe?" she points to Reid.

"Don't push it" I shoot in her direction, taking a slice of pizza, now that my anxiety stomach has sort of passed.

Once the pizza's been eaten in near completely awkward silence Spencer stands up off the sofa. His unsure demeanor has returned and he looks nervous. "I actually should get going this time" he says but Garcia pipes up to protest,

"No, it's not even late!"

"It takes me a while to get back home, thank you though Pen. For... this?" he gestures to the whole living room, "Night" he waves. He's almost made it to the door before I stand up out of my seat. I'm not really sure what comes over me, maybe it's gratitude, maybe it's guilt, or maybe I'm just exhausted.

"Wait Spencer. Let me give you a ride home?" I ask and it's like it's not even me saying it .

"Thanks, but I think I can make it home just fine" he dismisses, and there’s an antagonizing tone in his voice that snaps me right back to our usual rapport.

"I'm trying to do a nice thing here, fuck! Just let me do something nice!" I snap, and he throws his arms up in surrender.

"Fine alright, if it'll make you feel better"

"Fuck you Reid" I mutter under my breath and I sort of hope that he does hear me really. If he's gonna be hostile about this I can be too. I give Garcia a hug goodbye but I'm going to scold her for this whole thing later.

----

I lead the way outside and climb into my car, Spencer hops into the passenger seat and it feels as strange as always to be alone with him. Especially because it's not an accident, and it's not in work. Maybe this was a horrible idea. He seems like he's unwilling to break the silence, so I just get it over with.

"Where the hell do you live man? I'm gonna need directions." I say, as deadpan as I can muster, which probably isn't all that intimidating.

"Sorry, yeah, so you're gonna want to turn on the ignition" he teases. I definitely wasn't intimidating enough.

"Don't push it" I say, turning to give him a cruel stare, he just reacts with a smirk, that same one from the elevator earlier.

"Oh, I'm pushing it?" he asks, feigning disbelief

"I'll kick you out of this damn car" is all I can think to say. He barely responds, he just lets out a soft chuckle. I want to ask 'what's so funny' but he speaks before I can get the words out.

"I can't believe you talk to your Mom about me" he continues to laugh. That's enough.

"You know what Reid, of course I have! I work with actual murderers on a daily basis and somehow you've been the only real source of friction in my life since I joined the BAU!" He stops giggling a little, but not entirely, he looks like he's making an effort to contain himself.

"I'm sorry. I guess I just never knew I got to you like that" he still finds the whole thing amusing, but I sure as hell don't.

"Directions, now" I demand, looking straight out the front windshield.

"Fine, keep going straight on this road for a while and I'll tell you when to turn" he says, finally playing nice.

The two of us drive silently for most of the journey, the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually we arrive outside his building, and it's nicer than I thought it would be. But I have no idea what I was really basing that on. For some reason it hadn't occurred to me that Dr. Reid lived in an actual home, I had pictured him sleeping upside down in a cave maybe, or in a cryogenic chamber with all the other life-like genius robots.

"So," he says, breaking the silence, "When is this wedding?"

"4 months from now, in and around" I respond, matter of factly. Spencer nods, taking it in.

"Alright, so I've got 4 months, in and around, to learn enough to convincingly pass as your loving boyfriend. Doesn't sound so difficult." he jokes, his tone harsh and sarcastic.

"Look Spencer, I know this is insane and honestly kind of stupid. But in all seriousness, you can back out right now if you're not on board with whatever this is. I'm telling you this is the last exit ramp." I try to say it with sincerity, giving him a genuine out if he's not comfortable with the weird set-up that Penelope pulled on us both. He thinks on it for a moment and shakes his head.

"So how are we gonna do this?" he asks, and I really thought he was going to back out. So I don't have an actual answer.

"Well, I uh, I haven't really given a plan much thought. How about I come over and start working on some of the stuff you want digitized like Garcia mentioned and I can use the time to give you the footnotes on my life?" I suggest, at least that would make it easier to knock things out all at once. Rather than having to spend even more of my free time with Reid than necessary. He looks content with the improvised plan.

"Alright, sounds good." he undoes his seatbelt and opens the door to hop out of the car before turning back to me, "Are you coming inside or what?"

— —

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