#i’ve gotten hung up on language again but the point is

[basketoffish]

(a) feyre, while she had difficulty with it, *could* read in acotar. she had a pretty good vocabulary. she had trouble with assigning sounds to letters and such, but she did know her letters, or at the very least could recognise it.

(b) being able to read a language is not the same as being able to write in it. being able to write is not the same as being able to write well - not without practice and the confidence that comes with the same.

(c) tamlin was a bit busy trying to protect his court - needing to occupy her time while he and lucien were away is part of when/why she was doing a lot of that reading (even if i personally find it hard to believe - as someone who’s learnt and taught languages - that she would be able to read and comprehend at the pace suggested after a few months of writing lines).

When feyre left the spring court she knew how to read and write. She was actually just reading books because she didn’t wanna paint and was unable to do anything else.

But Tamlin obviously wasn’t paying attention to her at all? Did he even wonder when she learned how to read?? Did he even notice? Or did he get the letter months later and thought oh this is obviously not her because she’s illiterate.

[wherenymphsroam]

don’t say it’s unholy, if I let you come hold me (pt 1)

⟡ -- leon finds you drowning your grief in the back of a bar just outside of town. but don't worry, he won't blow your cover.

w/c: 2.1k

warnings: themes of coping with grief and depression, implied underage drinking and unhealthy coping mechanisms, vendetta leon, leon is just a wee bit morally grey here just due to the point in his life this is staged during, no sex but explicit language, leon is readers dad's coworker/friend, angst - eventual sex

a/n: okay, I've been sitting on this baby for a hot minute just because of how self indulgent it is iaqhdsiuwsjih. I wanted to make this longer before I released it, but I think I'm going to just continue this in parts (and even then, don't hold me to that lol judgwiuhd !!). again, please heed warnings, and if you are uncomfortable with any themes presented, please just don't read!

playlist: unholy (hey violet), disconnect (she wants revenge), discipline (nine inch nails), paralyzer (finger eleven)

You shouldn’t be here.

By all legal and ethical means, morality aside, you should be at the library, studying for a final you know damn well you won’t be passing. Or better yet, at home. Maybe poured over a mug of tea, that blend your mom has made you since you were a kid. Some shitty romcom playing in the background, ignored as you doze off surrounded by papers, scattered around the dining table like any other honorable, dutiful college student. Not some… dingy, shithole bar outside the parameters of your hometown.

(One you know your dad doesn’t frequent with colleagues. One you know is just outside the radius of people that would see you here, know you enough to know you shouldn’t be here.)

Maybe you would be back home right now, studying until you felt like your brain was going to melt out of your ears, if not for what happened. The “would’ve” “could’ve” and “should’ve”s are stacked high in your brain, like a mountain of now unattainable possibilities laid bare, slain by the events of recent nights. Something so chilling, so bone shattering and brain dissolving you just can’t manage to wrap your head around it. 

‘Shock’, right? 

That was the operative term for the numbness that has recently buzzed dully in your limbs, the heaviness of your own weight whenever you roll out of bed every day. The term itself is thrown around so flippantly, so easily outside the walls of a hospital, a clinic. General medical common knowledge be damned, everyone knows what shock is.

'Shock' is being betrayed by your child who marries someone of the same gender, rendering you and your paper thin beliefs meaningless. Generations passed down worth of indoctrination gone moot by one, unholy union. It’s coming home and finding your husband in bed with another woman, that blonde bitch at his front desk. The one he told you not to worry about? Yeah, that one. 

It’s the unspeakable, the unimaginable striking. It’s blinding, horrid in how it leaves you.. Empty. You’re compelled to apologize for its effects on your nervous system.

Sorry guys, I promise I’m sad. I know I don’t look it, I’m taking it out on all this- shit lying around. I’ve been meaning to throw this out for ages you know. Guess I finally have a reason now, huh? No, I don’t know how much sleep I’ve gotten the past week, it’s probably fine. I’m fine, don’t worry about me. That’ll make me feel worse. Now, if you would, let me go finish my manic episode in peace, will you-?

Could you blame this too as to why you finally dug out that fake ID your friends coerced you into agreeing to?

This wasn’t like you, not one bit. I mean, really, sitting in the back of some gnarly bar, surrounded with the sorts of people Daddy always warned you about? The sorts of people that only came out after dark, that hung around till dawn when they would then go back to dwell in whatever crevice of the city they called home until dusk? Maybe this was moms genes catching up with you – the predisposed ones you always knew would come to bite you in the ass. Maybe you should go check your eyes, don’t people's pupils dilate when they’re manic? “Crazy eyes'' those people on Tiktok would call them, right? 

“Unwidin’, huh?”

His voice calls through the air between you like he might’ve well been standing yards away. It takes you a moment longer than maybe appropriate to track his distance, his place at your side at the bartop. Glancing over, you first get a look at his hand, gesturing to the drink in front of you, the cigarette dangling between your fingers. The one that was currently beginning to slip in your weakened grip, speaking of. 

They’re long, nimble. Broad hands, worn at the tips, smooth along the meat of his palms. Even under the hazy atmosphere surrounding you, you can make out the glint of the watch up his sleeve – probably expensive, if the quality of the leather of his jacket sleeve has anything to say about it. Look at you. Even buzzed like this, you were spotting the finer details. A daddy’s girl with daddy’s tolerance.

Despite yourself, you nod numbly, head heavy on the bracket of your neck. A sign directly arguing with the idea of your tolerance – or rather, lack thereof – but it can't be as noticeable as your brain is attempting to trick you into believing, right?

Leon settles into the stool next to you, and you don’t so much as cast him a proper glance. Maybe that’s why he finds himself sitting down. You looked out of place, like a damn kicked puppy with your head drowning in a few shots worth in the back of this bar. It was a wonder no one else had approached you up till this point, especially given the time of night. It was hard not to feel like your guardian angel. 

“We both know this ain’t the healthiest way to do it.” He says as he flags the bartender down.

Touche, mystery man. 

Well, alright. Technically you knew the guy. You vaguely recognized him as one of Dad’s colleagues through the haze of your buzz. It was too sweet to interrupt, you find yourself completely unfazed in the face of the inevitable consequences that would come from your fathers colleague finding you here.

If anything, you couldn’t complain.

His voice was nice. Beyond “nice” actually. If you were any more wasted, you’d take him for a certain type of actor. More specifically, the ones you listen to late at night. The ones that speak to you behind pseudonyms and expensive microphones, nestled into crevices of the internet any mentally stable person wouldn’t dream of wandering into.  

You know better than to entertain that thought for more than a few seconds, even despite the dregs of nicotine floating through your blood coaxing you towards such a mental image. 

Finally, you brave a glance over your shoulder at him. He’s pretty. Real pretty. How are you only just noticing how sharp his eyes are? They look darker under this bar's lighting, that typically professional, almost playful glint in his gaze nowhere to be found. It had been a few years since you’d last seen him… maybe it was age finally starting to jade him.

Not that you knew the specifics. He was easily older than you by a decade and some change. And clearly all too happy to bypass all niceties in this situation. Damn. Did you look that bad? He was pretty enough to be an angel, but that didn’t mean he had to act like one. Maybe he felt bad for you. Maybe he had a better head sitting on his shoulders than a better half of the people in here. 

A huff of soft breath leaves through your nose, tendrils of smoke swirling out of your system with the action. Shaking your head, you dip it, taking another long drag from your quickly burning cigarette, an excuse to try and string together some sort of response that won’t make an ass out of you. Or actually, anything that didn’t scream “you’re hot and I don’t know how to conduct myself around good natured, attractive men” would do just fine. Those damn eyes of his… it was a mistake, letting your gazes lock. His eyes alone were enough to make your stomach flip. 

“Well,” you mutter, not daring to look back at him. “This is better than my plan b for the night.” 

You don’t so much as flinch when the bartender comes over, taking an order he murmurs in a tone you want spoken against the shell of your ear from behind. Your periphery catches the actions of the bartender pouring his order into a short glass, bronze in color.

Whiskey. Of course.

Reaching for the middle of the table, you stub your cigarette in a conveniently placed ashtray. Sure, you were a little fucked up in a way you’ve never been before tonight, but you had manners. 

Meanwhile, Leon is doing what he does best. Observing. He tries his best not to make it obvious how he watches your hand wobbles when you lift it. He watched the subtle change in your expression when he called to you, how your head bobbed when he sat down. Anyone else would be paying attention to how quickly you recoiled with the action, as if self conscious of your dragged reaction time. However, he had spotted the tension in your slouched shoulders. A reaction rooted in self preservation, a fear of judgment. It was enough to tell him just how many shots you probably had in your system. 

He was no stranger to girls like you, ‘situations’ such as the one he was currently sitting next to.

It was a familiar, cliche dance – the unspoken, drowning struggles of a near stranger on display, insecurities risen to the surface like hemorrhaged blood under thinned skin. It was written all over you. You were scrappy, worn paper, and he was the storm settling overhead. Baring your weariness and struggle and strife to his blind eye, painting you transparent. He could see right through you. You were running from something. Likely attempting to drown, bury it somewhere deep if not for just a night or so. 

“‘Plan B’?” he questions, tone calm, even almost lighthearted. It betrays his sharp gaze, perceptive and on guard as ever. As if he were approaching an injured doe in the wild. Not that he’s done much hunting lately. He’s found that meat off the streets bleeds more freely than the skin of doe’s and rabbits does in present times. 

A wry smile tugs at your lips, almost as if you figured he’d press the topic. It was already too much to ask that he didn’t mention your connection to his coworker, how Leon knew you were definitely not supposed to be somewhere like this, and he had managed to uphold that silent prayer.

Maybe your otherwise handicapped condition was blurring whatever lines that stood between you right now, the lines that constructed what he should be doing, finding you here without a legitimate ID.  He should be outing you to the bartender, dragging you out of this place by the scruff of your neck with your dad dialed into his phone.

He shouldn’t be… entertaining you, right? Could you go so far as to call his complacent presence.. Encouragement?

Taking a seat beside you, joining you in your mission to drown your ache, your pain. Keeping you calm under his gaze, as if a sedative rolled off him in gentle waves. His throat bobs around his sip of whiskey, and you can’t help how your gaze lingers on the action. 

“Plan B consisted of finding someone to fuck me into next week,” you mutter dryly, as if the admission of your half hearted ‘plans’ for tonight left a sour taste in even your mouth. It wasn’t who you were. This wasn’t what you did. For fucks sake, you weren’t even supposed to have gotten this far, knee deep in an actively self destructive decision. But life sure did have one hell of a way of knocking you one hundred eighty degrees in the other direction, didn’t it?

No. That’s an excuse. A shitty one, at that. It's an excuse you've heard your dad mutter under his breath when he slouches into the couch with a beer in hand.

This is a poor choice, and you knew this was a poor choice. And yet, that didn’t stop you from walking your happy ass into this bar, nose up and full of talked up confidence you poured into yourself in the parking lot. No amount of tugging and pulling and pleading your guilty conscience did on your brain would stop you, not this time. You knew that getting into an Uber to haul you outside the lines of town would seal your fate to the whims of this bar. How classy. 

If Leon was a worse man, he’d take your words at face value. (Or maybe he’s just damned with all that thorough training he’s been rung through. It’s practically impossible not to read people nowadays. Even alcohol has ceased to debilitate him of this begrudgingly equipped set of skills that was all but pummeled into him.) 

His gaze wavers. Flickers, almost with a wash of amusement for a moment. You were trying oh so hard, taking that clipped, short tone with him, all but puffing your chest with this aura of  mental toughness you likely wanted to think you had. It was cute, really. But oh, the lacing of desperation in your tone... The sweet vulnerability in your breath… every hairline fracture your already cracking front is bleeding. 

He doesn’t have to be a bloodhound to want to dig for more. He just can’t help himself. 

thank you for reading! I have emergency commissions open, so if you enjoyed this piece, please consider taking a look at my menu or rb’ing :^)

[warletscarlet]

Wild Kratts Headcanons

genuinely have no clue if this fandom is dead or not but I’ve fallen down a rabbit hole and it isn’t stopping. So anyway here we go! All of my hc’s are strictly platonic, Krattcest shippers back away rn 🤺. This is the 2D characters and not referring to the actual people! I know the characters are basically them but this is specifically for the cartoon. they’re all headcanons I either liked or had myself.

-Being as close as they are, Martin and Chris are very physically affectionate with one another (and with the Tortuga crew at times, but mostly the bros). They’re always giving each other hugs or leaning on the others shoulder, or Chris just straight up climbs onto Martin’s back/shoulders.

-With their friends, the boys are always giving them hugs, small shoulder touches, things like that. It’s their natural way of interacting with the people they care about.

-The Kratts have been found sleeping in trees various times (mainly Chris). At this point nobody questions it though they do get worried about him falling out and getting hurt.

-The Kratt Bros are also sometimes found sleeping in the same hammock, whether it’s in the Tortuga or hung up on a tree branch. They usually do this when the other has a nightmare or after partially tough missions (I.E:Flight of The Pollinators, Platypus Cafe, plus other episodes but these are the ones I heard about most and I haven’t gotten to watching too much of the show again yet). Touch is their love language and sometimes they need this to remind themselves the other is okay.

-Chris climbs basically everything. He loves climbing and if you took him to a rock wall climbing gym he’d have a field day. You can find him in the oddest places on the Tortuga.

-Aviva isn’t the most touchy person but will give hugs out of gratitude/happiness.

-The brothers share a single braincell. That is all.

-Jimmy has a very close relationship to his grandmother and was raised by her; which is why he knows all of her recipes.

-Aviva is like a mom friend. Not in the sense she’s motherly but in the sense she has to babysit two hyperactive brothers who are constantly running around/getting in trouble and breaking things.

-Martin can carry Chris no problem (on his back, shoulders or bridal style), but Chris cannot carry Martin on his back/shoulders for long. Though he can hold him bridal style (as we have seen.)

-The bros are huge nerds. If you ask them about animals they will talk for HOURS about them.

-Koki is downright fabulous and can rock anything. Don’t @ me.

-Martin has ADHD and Chris has autism. Martin fidgets, gets distracted easily, and can act impulsively (though reels Chris in when Chris is the one being impulsive). He tends to run off during creature adventures. He has combined presentation ADHD and Martin also has a tendency to forget to charge his creature pod.

-As for Chris, he has autism. He doesn’t recognize social cues and corrects people when he thinks they’re wrong about something, and doesn’t realize when they’re annoyed with him for it. He also can be pretty blunt. And he has to keep things organized, such as how he organized all of his creature disks and hates them being moved out of place.

-Chris, out of everyone, cusses the most. He doesn’t around the Wild Kratt Kids but he will when with the crew/his brother. He has definitely called Zach a motherf*cker and Aviva and Martin found it hilarious.

-The Tortuga Gang have frequent movie nights, but they will never watch a movie where an animal dies with the brothers. They WILL cry.

-After the Tazzy Incident, Chris still has some Tazzy traits. Mostly just sharper canines but also more sensitive senses. He can’t hear, smell and see are well as he could when in tazzy form but it’s definitely increased from normal. His eyes also do that thing cat eyes do when they’re in the dark and the light hits them. Has 100% given Martin heart attacks and absolutely has used it to mess with Zach.

[universitypenguin]

Chapter 25

Summary: Doubts about Nguyen arise in the stalker case and the murder case. Princess and Lloyd review the evidence and decide where to focus their efforts as they race against the clock to rescue Laine Cruz.

Word Count: 6,182

Masterlist

Warning: This story contains content that is intended for those who are at least eighteen years old, such as strong language, sex, sexual content, and references to murder, kidnapping and criminal elements. 

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

Chapter XXV

Jake Jensen was in nerd heaven and you loved that for him. 

He sat at a desk in the middle of the D.C. Metro Police station bullpen. A female detective from cyber crimes was leaning over his shoulder. She was slender with a pixie cut and delicate facial features that reminded you of Audrey Hepburn. Jake’s fingers flew over the keyboard of your work laptop as he explained how your system had been hacked. 

You hung back, settling into the guest chair across from Detective Diskant’s desk, fifteen feet away from the computer nerd fest. Diskant hadn’t shown up yet. He’d called after your allergist appointment to ask if Jake could bring in your work laptop and go over it with cybercrimes. You looked around the semi-deserted bullpen. A few uniforms stood around, talking near the front desk. There were a couple offices around the central area that appeared occupied, but it seemed most of the detectives were out and about. This gave you mixed feelings. It might be good to have the police force on the street, present in the communities they served, but where was their back up? Was everyone else at a conference or a training in-service or was the station always this empty?

Trying not to stare at Jake and the lady cop, you searched your purse for a nail file. It had been ages since you’d gotten a manicure and long past time for a good re-shaping. As you filed, you tried to be subtle about glancing over at the computer nerds. The lady cop laid a hand on Jake’s shoulder and smiled. 

You couldn’t catch the words but you knew body language. That head tilt and the sly glance that darted away once eye contact was made was straight out of Flirting 101. Despite the clear signals the lady cop was throwing down, they still went over Jake’s head. 

“Princess, can you come over here?” Jake asked. 

You winced at the expression that flashed across the lady cop’s face as she withdrew her hand from Jake’s personal space. 

“What’s up?” you asked, moving to stand behind Jake’s chair but keeping a respectful distance between you. 

“Look at this,” Jake said, pointing to the screen. 

You examined the string of numbers he indicated. “What am I looking at, again?” 

“It’s an IP address from Bishop & Howard.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“This is where the attack originated. Also, it came through our server.”

“So we know who was behind the attack?” 

Jake sighed. “Not exactly. We know where it came from. The naming convention of the IP address doesn’t exactly match the company’s standard, but some departments do use unique identifiers.” 

“Don’t you guys keep an inventory list of all the active IP addresses?”

“I already ran it through the list. No match.”

“But it came from our server?”

The lady cop cleared her throat. “Is there any reason a particular department would have a computer with a unique IP address?”

“Usually they’re marking computers that are designed for sensitive information, but most of them aren’t connected to the internet.” 

“We should ask what departments use unlisted computers,” she said. 

“I doubt they’d just hand that information over,” Jake replied. 

“But this narrows down the suspect list to employees of Bishop & Howard,” the female detective said. 

“How else can we match this IP address?” you asked.

“I’ve set up one of the specialized computers for an investigation before. The format of the IP address includes a project code, security level, and identifying number for the system. If I do some digging, I might be able to figure out who’s computer this is.”

Reading between the lines, you knew ‘digging’ meant ‘hacking’ but didn’t call him on it in front of the cyber crimes detective.

“I didn’t realize those specialized computers were connected to our servers.”

Jake rubbed a hand over his face. “They’re not supposed to be. But clearly whoever’s stalking you is tech savvier than we thought. It’s like someone deliberately used the untraceable system to cover their tracks."

Detective Diskant finally entered the room, carrying a laptop under his arm. He stopped at the desk where Jake sat and placed it down.

“You need to see this,” he said, pressing play on a video file. 

At first it seemed like footage of an airport, but when the angle shifted you recognized the platform at Washington Union Station. A train pulled up and passengers disembarked. Diskant pressed pause when the video reached a certain frame. 

“Recognize anyone?” 

“Nguyen,” Jake said. 

You scanned the crowd, looking for the familiar face. It wasn’t until Jake pointed him out that you recognized Shun Nguye. He was in the center of the screen, blending into the blur of travelers. 

“We need to reconsider the prime suspect in your stalking case,” Diskant said.

“What?”

“Look at the time stamp,” Jake said. 

“August 16th, at 11 A.M,” you read.

“Unless Nguyen has developed the ability to be in two places at once, he couldn’t have attacked Princess in Lloyd’s backyard and been in the train station.” 

You closed your eyes feeling weak. “That explains the photos,” you murmured.

“What photos?” Diskant asked.

“The pictures left on my car. It was right after the birthday dinner with my family. I remembered them yesterday. The timing didn’t make sense. Nguyen couldn’t have taken them, not by himself.” 

“Right. Based on this, we can rule him out, but it’s suspicious that he’d return to Virginia.”

“We’re back where we started, with no idea who my stalker is,” you said.

Diskant inclined his head, acknowledging your statement. “No, we don’t.”

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

Lloyd spent the afternoon in a coffee shop transcribing his interview with Tate Corbin. Despite his aversion to such establishments, they offered reliable internet which was a service he desperately needed. Still, the saccharine sayings painted on the walls, boldly advocating the joys of chemical dependence in Brush Script font, were hard to stomach. He didn’t find the artistic photos of coffee plants hanging beside his table any more palatable than the quotes. 

The pictures grated on his nerves; at least the drug dens he’d frequented hadn’t been plastered with photographs idolizing the coca plant. In truth, these images were captured with the same propagandistic intent as the works of other renowned visual manipulators like Dmitri Baltermants. However, the Soviet photojournalist had composed his photos with nuance and emotion - qualities sorely lacking in these uninspired shots.

Lloyd glanced at his watch and saw that it was still too early to call you. He sipped the last of his mint tea, watching the crowd queuing for their 2:30 fix. 

“I can’t get anything done after noon unless I’ve had three shots of espresso,” a woman in line declared.

He waited for her companion’s response, anticipating that three shots of espresso per day ought to warrant some kind of self-reflection, but the woman’s associate nodded understandingly. Really? That was it? Why did no one offer her the intervention she clearly needed?

Behind the counter baristas poured beverages into plastic and styrofoam cups and passed them to waiting addicts. Cocaine was an indefensible habit, but at least its packaging wasn’t a significant driver of microplastic pollution. Those damn cups had to rank among the worst inventions society had ever dreamt up. They were somewhere near the top, probably right in between Jake Paul’s career and neonicotinoids. 

At 2:45 his patience had worn thin. Lloyd grabbed his keys and headed for the door. Driving back to D.C. wasn’t part of his agenda, but he was on the cusp of an outburst that would earn him an invitation to never come back, so the forty minute drive to Zach’s office was worthwhile. 

He set up in the spare office you’d taken over and laid out his notes when the door swung open, and you stalked in, looking upset. 

“Princess?”

You shrieked and jumped a foot in the air. Lloyd blinked, ears ringing from the assault on his eardrums. You were pressed against the wall clutching your heart with one hand and cradling your purse to your abdomen like it was a shield. He sat very still.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You groaned, closing your eyes and sinking down the wall, crumpling. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah? Well, you don’t sound fine. Or look it.” 

Lloyd stood up, moving around the desk and approaching you. He took the purse from your hands and dropped it on the spare chair, then dragged you into his arms. You melted into the embrace, tucking your head in the crook of his shoulder. He smoothed a hand down your back and listened as you breathed deeply.

“Bad allergist appointment?” he asked. 

“Not really. It turns out that I have an aspirin allergy, which we already knew. How was your interview?”

“Unsatisfying.”

“Why?”

“It ended up killing more leads than it generated. What’s wrong?”

“I had a meeting with Detective Diskant after my appointment. Nguyen isn’t my stalker.” You filled him in. “So, Jake’s running down the information from the hack but we’re back at square one.”

Lloyd reached behind you and closed the blinds to the office window, then took your hands and guided you to the office chair behind the desk. He sat down and drew you onto his lap, positioning your legs to rest over the arm of the chair.

“I wrote up some timelines for the Harmony case,” you said, looping your arms around his shoulders.

He glanced over at the murder board you’d arranged on the office wall. Part of him wanted to dive into your meeting with Diskant but looking at your face, he knew that wasn’t a topic you were ready to pursue. Not right now, at least. 

“I see that. Did you learn anything at the bible camp?” 

“Li Wei had a secret boyfriend during the spring of 1999.”

Lloyd groaned. “Not another secret relationship. What is it with women and hiding their love lives from investigators?”

“Don’t ask me. Anyway, that revelation was the highlight of the trip, but it got me thinking about the timelines of the case.”

“Timelines, plural?” 

“Yeah. I’ve been playing around with the theory that the cases weren’t actually connected since the beginning. I know it might seem unlikely for two prolific killers to be operating in the same area at the same time, but the differences in victimology are so stark it has to be considered.”

“And the timelines changed your mind.”

“If there was evidence of two killers, it seems like we’d have found something pointing in that direction by now.”

“But you’re not letting the theory go?” Lloyd asked.

“Not yet, but I’d rather focus on the evidence. I started by reviewing the events from 1999,” you said, pointing to the wall. “Li Wei’s boyfriend is the first event. Then, on June 14th, she and her daughter, Zoe, disappear. Two weeks later, the first of Harmony’s missing women, Stacey Moore, was abducted.”

“You think there’s a connection?”

“The timing makes me wonder if that killing was a trigger for the perpetrator. Another possibility is that he viewed Li Wei and Zoe as a… test run, of sorts.” 

“That speaks to his behavior. He’s controlled, premeditated, and careful. If he captured Zoe first that would have given him leverage over Li Wei.”

“Exactly. And if we look at our suspect list, something else that comes up on the 1999 timeline is the connection between Shun Nguyen and the other parties.”

Lloyd straightened, adjusting you on his lap. “There’s something linking Nguyen and Li Wei? What is it?” 

“Nothing. I looked high and low, but there’s no connection. I can’t even establish that he was ever in Fredericksburg. His only connection to Li Wei is through Julia, who he didn’t meet until late 2000.”

“When was his residency interview at the hospital?”

“June 18, 1999. After the interview on Friday, he spent the night at a hotel, drove back to D.C. in the morning and took a train home to New York.” 

“Which we already knew,” Lloyd grumbled. 

“I know, I’m just trying to organize things so they make sense. And you know what really doesn’t make any sense?”

“The idea of Nguyen commuting between New York City and a small town outside of D.C. to kill random strangers almost a full year before he knew he’d be living there,” Lloyd said.

“We don’t have much in terms of physical evidence, so we’ve been using behavioral profiling to try and understand the killer’s actions. Know what’s more accurate than behavioral profiling? Geographical profiling. Scientists use it all the time.”

“I’m not arguing with you. The case against Nguyen always hinged on his connection to Julia and his knowledge and access to chemicals.”

“There’s a distinct pattern in these early crimes and it points to someone local. Abducting nine people and never leaving behind a trace requires planning and preparation. Nguyen couldn’t have spared the time for all that in 1999.” 

“Which brings us to 2000, when he moved to Harmony.”

“He moved in July. A week later, Kayla Ballesta went missing, which sounds damning until you account for the car accident Nguyen had been in two months earlier.”

Lloyd grunted. “Yeah, but who could fake an injury better than a doctor?”

“Radiology doesn’t lie. He wasn’t in any shape to abduct Kayla that July.”  

“Do we have his radiology reports?” 

“No, but Peter Shaw had them. According to his article in the Rolling Stone, he had two different orthopedic surgeons review the images. They both confirmed the severity of Nguyen’s fracture.” 

“It’s compelling, but you know what else is compelling?” Lloyd asked.

“What?”

“After Nguyen was arrested the disappearances stopped. That’s too much of a coincidence to ignore.” 

“You know what else is too much to ignore? An open book pelvic fracture.” 

“Mmmh.”

You chuckled at the wrinkle of disgust that passed over Lloyd’s face and stroked his jaw with the back of your fingers. “I went through all the evidence from 2001, which didn’t take long because there’s almost no evidence to speak of.” 

“There was more evidence at Julia’s crime scene than any of the others,” Lloyd said.

“She went missing either on April 17th or 18th and her body was found encased in concrete beside Cub Run Trail a few days later. Police identified the remains about a week after finding them and Nguyen was arrested in August.”

“Going back to the behavioral evidence, we can establish a few things for sure. Starting with the obvious, the serial killer is knowledgeable and capable at using chemicals. He has access to them somehow and might have a secondary location where he can treat the bodies.”

“Which we know from the remains found at the trail,” you said.

“Right. Julia’s bones were brittle and crumbled when touched, which is a property of exposure to a strong base. If they’d been soaked in acid the bones would’ve been rubbery and flexible. Nguyen’s chemical training and access to materials through the hospital led the police to focus on him.”

“But he was never tried for any of the other murders and everything that made him a suspect was circumstantial.”

“Ninety percent of the case against Nguyen amounts to fact that the disappearances stopped after he was out of the picture,” Lloyd reminded you.

“It’s also interesting that Li Wei, Zoe, and Julia’s remains were all treated the same, even though there’s three years between their cases.” 

“All the bodies found beside the trail were disposed of by the exact same method. It’s too specific for a copy cat - unless the original perpetrator told someone precisely where they left the first two victims.”

“Wouldn’t they have had to describe the chemicals and methodology, too?” you asked.

“For the results to be this uniform? Absolutely.” 

“What about victimology? That’s always been a huge question for me. All the killer’s known victims are female but aside from that, things start to get murky.”

You gestured to the photos on the wall, where the six portraits of the missing women were grouped. “They match a specific type. They were average build, natives of eastern coastal Virginia, with advanced degrees and professional jobs. Li Wei doesn’t match the pattern, and neither does Julia.” 

“But the real outlier is Zoe,” Lloyd pointed out.

“Agreed. Which is why we’re paying Annabeth Green a duke’s ransom to run a paternity test on her remains and identify her father.” 

“You set me up for that one, Princess.”

“I have to spread the blame around. Do you know what she charges for that kind of a test?”

Lloyd snorted. “Do you?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Her secretary just emailed me the invoice.”

“What’s the goal of the paternity test?”

“To identify a new suspect. After going through all the evidence, our suspect list is pretty barren. Nguyen was too far away to have killed the victims from 1999 and there’s no connection between him and Li Wei Chapman. He wasn’t able to kill the first victim from 2000 because of his injury. And when it comes down to it, I don’t think he killed Julia, either.”

Lloyd ran his tongue around his teeth.“I agree. He didn’t have the opportunity. That was established by the Virginia Supreme Court beyond any reasonable doubt. Did you find anything on Leo McKenzie?”

You shook your head. “Nothing new. The Fairfax Sheriff’s Department hasn’t sent me a copy of their file on him, either.”

“They’re not known for their inter-agency cooperation.”

“Well, it probably doesn’t matter if I have their file or not, because Zach got a copy of McKenzie’s discharge papers from the Army. His back injury is serious enough to exclude him from suspicion. That leaves Tate Corbin. How’d your interview with him go?” 

“Not great. He has an alibi for two of the abductions thanks to a biennial fishing trip with his merchant marine buddies.”

Lloyd gave you the details of Corbin’s alibi and you scribbled down the information, making a note to contact the witnesses tomorrow morning.

“Also, get this. There was only one other person who bothered checking out Corbin as a suspect. You’ll never guess who it was.” 

“Detective Roth?”

“Peter Shaw.” 

You chuckled. “Ouch.” 

Lloyd gathered you closer, his eyes falling half closed as he nuzzled your neck. “Yeah.”

“He didn’t give an alibi for Julia’s murder, though.” 

“I knew he wasn’t the one before he produced the alibi,” Lloyd said. 

“How?” 

“His reactions were off. This killer has flown under the radar for too long. His public mask is impeccable.”

“And Corbin…?”

“Corbin is weird. There’s no mask. He wasn’t interested in talking about the missing victims. Then, when I finally got him talking, he wasn’t curious.” 

“Why would the real killer be curious? He knows more about them than we do.”

“He’d want to know what we had. The question of evidence would’ve been brought up, but Corbin couldn’t have cared less. The real killer would’ve been excited by the conversation, but he’d have masked the reaction. Corbin was ambivalent. And the last reason is the same as the first,” Lloyd said. “He’s too weird to be the killer. He’s loud, opinionated, and obnoxious. He doesn’t fly under the radar at all.”

You giggled. “Eliminated from suspicion because of his personality…” 

Lloyd rolled his eyes. “We’re looking for a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Corbin is a peacock.”

“Well, we’ve shaved the suspect list down to zero. Nguyen’s off the list for lack of opportunity. McKenzie isn’t physically capable of abducting anything bigger than a puppy. The most promising suspect, Tate Corbin, is off the list for being sane, and he has an alibi for multiple abductions.”

“We’re out of suspects.”

“Which sucks, because there’s a missing woman who needs us to figure this out.” 

“Well, at least we know we’re looking for a strong base. Corbin completely sealed his innocence in my mind when he brought up an acidic mine as the potential disposal site.” 

You sat up in Lloyd’s lap, nearly elbowing him in the stomach. “What acid? Where?” 

Lloyd grumbled and caught your legs. He wrapped an arm around your knees, holding you captive. “Copper Ridge Quarry. It’s south of Harmony and it’s been abandoned for decades. The government has spent billions containing the toxic sludge.”

“Copper Ridge Quarry. That sounds familiar.”

“It’s a super-fund site. Every year the exposed ore reacts with rain and ground water and produces new runoff. Until someone figures out how to stop the reactions, the acid will keep getting more concentrated every year.” 

“Gross. Hang on, let me check something.”

Lloyd eased his grip and let you reach your laptop. He waited as you typed, flipping through pages of the database you’d organized months ago. 

“Here. Copper Ridge Quarry is in the database.”

“They already checked it out?”

“Mmmhh… According to the file summary, NASA sent a robot into one of the acid pools in the 80s and it was never seen again.”

“Did it return any data?” Lloyd asked.

“No. It looks like the investigation into Copper Ridge wasn’t very thorough. The first time they checked it out was in October of 2000. The local police’s resources were stretched thin. Between processing evidence from the abduction sites, organizing massive searches, and running down other leads, Copper Ridge didn’t get much attention.” 

“What about later?” Lloyd asked. 

“They tried again in 2001 when Stephanie Young disappeared, but there were conflicts with the search warrants. Some of the land around Copper Ridge is privately owned and required a compelling reason to search private property, which they didn’t have. In the end, they searched all the public land they had consent to access, but that’s it.” 

“An acidic mine site is an intriguing lead, but we don’t have any evidence the killer uses acid.” 

“Is that really a logical jump?” you questioned.

“Scientists use strong bases in labs to remove flesh from skeletons. If you expose the bones for longer, about five to six hours with some heat, they crumble.”

“That’s not possible with acid?”

“It would work,” Lloyd admitted. “It might even do a better job of completely dissolving them, but it’s more dangerous. The acids strong enough aren’t safe to handle. Sodium hydroxide on the other hand, comes as a salt. It’s much easier to obtain and if you got it on your skin it might cause a rash, but that’s it. You have to dissolve it in water before it’s dangerous.”

“But Copper Ridge would eliminate the need for him to obtain chemicals. Assuming he had a way in, it mitigates the risk of being caught by purchasing records or his professional access.” 

“If he had a traditional education, he’d lean towards a base,” Lloyd said.

“If he’s smart enough to use a base, why not use an acid? It’s all chemistry at the end of the day.” 

“Following the same logic, why not dispose of Julia’s body the same way as Li Wei and Zoe’s? The crimes were three years apart. He’d have had time to perfect his methods,” Lloyd said.

“That’s been my biggest gripe with all the victims being connected. But this afternoon, I remembered something Marco said when I explained the case. He commented that it was ‘like he put the sisters together,’ with how he disposed of Julia. It meant more to me before we learned Li Wei was actually Julia’s cousin. But now, what if he had the same motive both times?”

“We haven’t considered his motives.”

“I have. If you lay out the whole timeline, Li Wei and Zoe were his first victims and they’re both anomalies in victimology. Li Wei wasn’t born in the U.S., but she did grow up here. She dropped out of college freshman year and didn’t finish a bachelor’s degree, let alone a masters. She worked at her parent’s bible camp, which was a far cry from a professional job, like the other victims. And she doesn’t fit the physical victim type, either. She was too tall.”

“And Julia’s the same. Too tall and too thin, no degrees, no job. Plus, she really was foreign.”

“Right. Li Wei could have passed for a Virginia native, but there was no way he mistook Julia for an American. Where’s the motive, though?” Lloyd asked.

“If they don’t fit victimology there must be a motive. That’s why I really wanted the paternity test on Zoe. Usually, with a child victim, the perpetrator is one of the parents. We can rule out her mother, which leaves the father.”

“What about Julia?”

“She was digging into Li Wei’s death. If the killer found out, wouldn’t he have been compelled to interfere?”

“Yes, but why not dispose of her like he did all the other victims? If your theory about Copper Ridge is correct, he had the perfect disposal method. I can imagine him failing on his first attempt to dissolve a body with a strong base, but going back to the failed method three years later? That’s stupid.”

“Or it’s incredibly smart. Anyone who found all three victims, encased in two different concrete slabs, beside a popular jogging trail, albeit, in a remote area of said trail, would’ve connected the dots. Then they would’ve connected the victims. Julia arrived in the U.S. in 1997. It’s plausible to imagine a connection. We only know there wasn’t one because of Aliyah.”

“The killer was making sure the cases would be connected.” 

“But when no one found the second slab, Nguyen was arrested and the rumor mill started up, claiming he was connected to the six missing women,” you said. 

“The killer was handed the perfect scapegoat on a platter. So, he stopped killing and as far as public opinion went, no more disappearances meant they’d collared the right guy.” 

“I know it’s a lot of theory, but looking at the whole sequence from 1999 to 2002, how the killing started with Li Wei and Zoe, then stopped after Julia, it’s almost like a full circle.”

“He didn’t stop, though. If he had, Zach and I wouldn’t be spending our Monday night on a search party for Laine Cruz,” Lloyd said. 

“What if this is a copycat?” You sighed at your own question and shook your head. “The problem with all this theory is that we don’t have any evidence to back it up. Paradoxically, we have more evidence than anyone else who worked the case ever did.” 

“We’re here because Roth searched an old crime scene and got lucky,” Lloyd said.

“There’s solid evidence suggesting the killer is knowledgeable in chemistry. He’s proven capable with them, and we have physical evidence that two of his victims were disposed of with a strong base. We also know his access to these chemicals wasn’t a fluke because he used them twice - once in 1999 and again in 2002.” 

“And the concrete slab itself is evidence,” Lloyd said. “He knows how to mix, form, and set a concrete slab by himself. It’s not as specific as his advanced chemical knowledge, but it’s still a proven ability.”

“He’s prepared and careful, so disposing of the bodies wouldn’t have been the first time he worked with concrete. That makes sense,” you said. 

“He’s also shown to be quite knowledgeable of the local area. Abducting six women without leaving any witnesses isn’t easy. Also, he’s familiar enough with Cub Run Trail to dispose of bodies there twice. It was a remote section of the trail, sure, but that points to him knowing the area.”

“And getting them up there? He’s got to be physically fit.”

“Unlike Leo McKenzie. We have evidence that Julia’s teeth were destroyed with a gunshot, and the .22 shell casings found in Nguyen’s yard after she went missing. It’s not difficult to get a gun in the D.C. area, but let’s add it to the list.” 

“Also, the last fact, but maybe the most important: he had the opportunity to commit all nine murders.”

Lloyd grunted. “How do we know so much about him, but still don’t have a suspect?”

“He’s careful and prepared. Speaking of that, what about the woman that went missing on Friday night? Have they found any evidence at the scene of her abduction?” 

“Laine Cruz. The search isn’t going well. They found her car abandoned in town with a dead battery. It could have been sabotage or the perpetrator saw an opportunity and took advantage. Her purse was in the car, but not her cell phone. There’s been no activity on her bank cards and her phone is turned off.” 

“What are they doing to find her?” 

“The usual - tracking dogs, a search grid. It seems futile,” Lloyd said. 

“Isn’t the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over and hoping for a different result?” you asked. 

“According to Einstein.”

“Search grids and dogs didn’t find any of the other missing women, did they?”

“No,” Lloyd conceded.

“We were brought in to investigate the new evidence and figure out if it was connected to the missing victims.”

“Are you saying they should call off the search?”

“No, but searching is their job - not ours. I think we should focus on following the evidence and investigating what we have.” 

“You’re saying Zach and I shouldn’t join the search,” Lloyd said.

“Copper Ridge Quarry is a fresh lead. I think that’s where our time would be best spent.” 

“Alright. We’ll do it. Are you okay with staying late at the office? I don’t know how long this’ll take.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got a mountain of paperwork to catch up on.” 

Lloyd studied your expression and noted that you still looked upset. He slid a finger under your chin, turning your face up to his. 

“Hey. It’s okay. Jake will find a new lead.”

“What if my stalker isn’t someone we would suspect?” you asked. “What if it’s totally random?”

“Don’t think about that. Let Jake and Landon worry about the stalker. Let me worry about him.”

Your eyes scanned his, filled with concern. There was nothing he could say, Lloyd realized. He changed tactics and lowered his gaze to your chest.

“How do your nipples feel? Still sore?”

“I…” you squirmed. 

He ran a hand over the curve of your breast, feeling the gentle curve through the thin silk of your blouse. There were three layers of cloth between his fingertips and your flesh but he still felt the hardening of your nipple. You hissed and he paused.

“They’re not sore,” you said, reassuring him. “Just… tender.”

His lips curved. “What’s your current opinion on nipple clamps?”

“It’s an eighty-twenty split.”

“For or against?”

“For,” you admitted, lashes fluttering as you fought back shyness. 

Lloyd squeezed you tight and explored your throat with soft, teasing kisses. You relaxed instantly, muscles loosening as your head fell back to give him more room. His free hand went to the fastenings on the front of your blouse, flicking open each tiny pearl button.

You caught his hand. “There’s a window on the door.”

“I closed the blinds,” Lloyd said. 

“Oh.”

You let go and when he arched a brow, you nodded. He carefully undid each tiny button, flashing you an amused look.

“Did you plan on making it hard for me to undress you, or this coincidence?” 

“Actually, I just thought the buttons were pretty.”

“They are. However, this is prettier,” Lloyd said, pushing open the silk and sliding off the thin straps of your camisole. He purred at the sight of your cream colored bra. “Front-clasp. I forgive you for the buttons.”

He flicked open your bra and you shivered at the sensation of cool air on delicate skin. Lloyd shifted you again, turning your body so your back was positioned to the door of the office. It wasn’t necessary, but you appreciated his awareness.

“Mmmhhh… still a little swollen,” he murmured, caressing his thumb over a puckered nipple. “They’re warm.”

You trembled when his hand moved up to curl around the back of your neck. He kissed your sternum and his mustache brushed your skin in a teasing dance. His facial hair wasn’t bristly, but it wasn’t soft, either. His hand slid from your throat to your collarbone and slowly cupped the weight of your left breast. Your eyes closed in pleasure.

“Lloyd.”

His cheek pressed to your sternum and you felt his hot breath against your tight nipple. The slow, gentle stroking of his thumb over your breast was restrained and controlled. You shuddered. Part of you wanted to beg for more. The other part knew the office door might have the blinds lowered, but it was still unlocked. Lloyd’s tender stroking was making your head go fuzzy. You arched your back in offering, but he didn’t react. 

“Please,” you whined.

Lloyd made a rough sound and dropped his head, kissing a slow path across your chest, down your sternum to suckle the inner curve of your breast. Your fingers threaded into the cool strands of his hair as you pulled him toward where you needed him the most. As his mouth fastened around your nipple, you felt his lips curve into a smirk, but couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

He’d finished lapping at the first straining nipple and moved onto the second when the door to your office swung open. You were so caught up in the moment that the noise barely registered. It wasn’t until the sound of a masculine voice cut through your mental haze that you gasped.

“What the fuck, Lloyd?! Hang a damn sock on the door next time!”

Zach’s shout brought your head around. The man had turned his back and clamped a hand over his eyes. Lloyd slowly released your nipple and raised his head.

“Have you heard of knocking?” he asked.

“I didn’t know you were in here!” Zach protested.

For some reason, you weren’t scrambling to fasten your bra in a panicked rush. Instead of embarrassment you felt dizzy with lust as Lloyd re-fastened your bra and returned the straps of your camisole to their original position. His eyes caught yours and he smiled, eyes glinting with something like pride. Whether it was at his own work or your lack of reaction to the embarrassment of being caught, you weren’t sure. He started from the bottom as he re-buttoned the tiny pearl fastenings of your shirt.

“Can I turn around?” Zach asked. 

You grined at Lloyd, who’d only fastened two buttons of your blouse.

“Sure,” you said.

Zach turned half way, peeking from the corner of his eye. He nearly wrenched his neck out of place when he spun away again, unleashing a string of curses that would’ve made a sailor blush. 

“Do you two mind? I don’t like walking into the middle of a porno in my own office!”

Lloyd snickered. “Please. Grow up, Zach. There were racier scenes than this on T.V. when you were a kid.”

“I’m going to wait in the truck!”

You giggled as Zach raced out of the office like something was chasing him and smirked at Lloyd when he finished doing up your blouse. “I take it you don’t share details about your sex life with Zach anymore?”

“If did, he’d probably knock my teeth out.” He wrapped his arms loosely around your waist. “Speaking of things that would send me to the dentist, why are you so calm about me forgetting to lock the door?” 

You linked your hands behind his neck and shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought getting caught in a compromising position would be embarrassing but it wasn’t. I mean, Zach didn’t see any parts of me he hadn't seen before. We weren’t hiding the fact that we’re sleeping together, so he didn’t learn anything new.”

“Funny. You were a virgin three months ago and Zach’s the shrinking violet,” Lloyd snickered. He bent down and kissed you thoroughly. “I won’t be back until late. You’re sure you don’t want one of the guys to give you a ride home?”

“No. I’ll wait for you.”

Lloyd reached for his jacket and paused. “Princess, if you have time tonight, can you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Go back through the footage of Nguyen’s interviews. There was a moment in there, something he said that I didn’t quite catch. It was like he had a slip of the tongue and then backpedaled to cover it up.”

“You just described his whole communication style,” you said.

“Yeah, that’s why I was driving myself nuts in Qatar, listening to the tapes over and over, trying to figure out what it was.”

“Okay. Do you remember which day it was on?”

“It was on the first day of interviews. I didn’t notice the slip until I listened to the audio of the interview on the flight out of Singapore. Maybe it’s nothing, because I haven’t been able to find it again, but at the time I was absolutely sure he’d said something important.”

“Maybe another set of ears will help.”

“Thanks, Princess. Don’t expect me until late, okay?”

“Good luck tonight.” 

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

Next - Chapter XXVI

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

Masterlist

[kikijackson-blog]

Blame It On The Moon

Coco x Reader

Summary: You finally formally meet your new neighbor who always made you nervous. A little bit of fluff here.

WARNINGS: Readers 18+ only. Light language. 

************************************************************************

It’s a quiet night. You stand outside looking up at the stars. Lost in deep thought. You and your husband had just moved into your first home just a couple of months ago. You hear the scurrying of chubby little paws headed straight for you. Your pudgy short legged dog Oliver is a sweet boy but mischievous. He playfully nips at your ankle wagging his little nub of a tail. He was your husband’s dog but you both knew he loved you more. Oliver being the carefree pup he was made no attempt to hide his preference for you. It was you after all who feeds him and gives him the most excellent belly rubs. Just like the one you’re giving him now. The chubster was in heaven enjoying every moment of it until something caught his attention.

Immediately he rolls over and is up on his four little feet, you try to hold him back but he shot up like lighting running to the edge of your property. 

“Ollie no! Get back here!” You try your best to get his attention in a whispering shout as you hear before you see what had gotten his attention. “Ollie!” you continue your quiet shouting. It was Ollie’s attention you were trying to get not his. Not the man riding in on his bike. You had noticed him the day you were moving in. He had made you a little nervous the way he stared you up and down as took a puff of his cigarette. His dark hair hung just above his shoulders and he was covered in tattoos. You immediately got prison vibes from him. As you went back and forth from the car to your new home carrying boxes, you found yourself sneaking little peaks at him convincing yourself that it was just in case he ever tried anything you could give an accurate description of him to the police.

He had never taken his eyes off you.

“Ollie! Get over her now!” you desperately pleaded with him, not daring to leave the safety of the dark little spot where you like to hide out when you smoke your cigs.

Ollie starts barking as your neighbor parks. Ollie dares to get closer and barks even more.

“Get away you little shit!” He says to the little fur monster that was once your sweet boy. You see your neighbor trying to shoo your dog. “Get back the fuck where you belong.”

You sigh knowing you had to go get your boy before he takes a bite out of this man and really pisses him off. “I’m so sorry. Ollie come here, leave him alone.” you apologize.

He looks almost surprised to see you. Since moving in you’d done your best to avoid having to see the man. Peeking out the window like a nosy neighbor and waiting until he wasn't around just so you could go to work. 

“He’s a sweet boy, really he is.” you explain, hoping to convince the unnerving man.

“Yeah, yeah, I see that.” He said sarcastically., clearly not buying a word of it.

“No really,” you let a weak laugh. “I promise you he is. He just gets triggered by loud noises. See.” You point to Oliver who is now wagging his nub again and looking up at your neighbor with the most derpiest face ever. 

He looks down and busts out laughing when he sees Ollie’s face. Ollie responds with an adorable little howl.

And just like that the two of them became best buds.Who would have thought a rough around the edges looking man would have a soft spot for furballs. Maybe it was seeing this man now giving Ollie head pats and belly rubs and how it made him look less threatening or maybe it was the moon but before you could stop yourself you held your hand out to him. “I’m sorry I’ve not had the chance to introduce myself, I’m y/n”

He takes your hand in his and looks at you. “Coco. And it’s cool. You have now.” He looks down at your pup. “And you’re Ollie, huh.” You nod all too aware of the fact that he hasn’t let go of your hand and the look on his face tells you that he’s aware that you haven’t tried to pull your hand away.

He flashes you a crooked smile and you blush. Which only makes him widen his smile more. He shows mercy and lets your hand go, takes a step back to give you both space. You appreciated his kindness but the truth is he needed a little space too. He pulls his box of cigarettes and lights one up.

He looks at the box in your hand. “Menthol's?” and rolls his eyes, “of course.”

“What?”

He shrugs, “nothing it’s just that you know, girls like menthol’s”

You laugh. “Not all girls. A lot of girls don’t like them.” You had plenty of girl friends who couldn’t stand them and knew of a few guys who loved them.

“The girlies ones do.” He states as a matter of fact.

‘Whatever. Some guys like them too. Have you ever tried one?” You ask him.

“No! And I don’t wanna.”

“Oh come on, try it.” You hand him your cigarette. “You might like it.” Daring the tough looking man to take it.

“Nah, I’m good.” He waves his hand trying to shoo it away.

“Aw. Come on, you know you want to try it.” You insist.

Coco eyes your cigarette for a moment and you can tell he’s thinking about it. He hesitates but then curiosity gets the better of him, he reaches for it and chuckles, “You’re a bad influence.”

He takes a puff and nearly chokes on it. “Ugh, that’s disgusting. You tryna kill me. Fuck. Ima hafta call the police on you. Officer, I swear this cute girl tryna murder me with her fuckin’ poison menthols.” He’s looks at you like you’re a strange creature he’s never encountered before, “You’re a fuckin’ weirdo. Seriously, that shit’s gross.”

You both laugh and Ollie looks at you two like both of you are weirdos but he sees you and his new best bud getting along and that makes him happy.

He grows silent studying your features in the moonlight while you hold at your sides unable to control your fit of laughter, he was positive that your ribs would be sore tomorrow. He's no longer laughing with you but his warm eyes are now filled with amusement. He can’t recall a time in which he made a woman laugh like that before. It was both mesmerizing and intoxicating to him.

You giggling ebbs slowly until it comes to a full halt.

You stare in each other's eyes, neither of you saying a thing to each other but you smile at him and he returns the smile. It was in that moment that you knew your brown eyed neighbor and Ollie weren’t the only ones who had just become best friends.

*********************************

More Coco? Yes! More Please!

[romanarose]

Leather and Lace, chapter 11 sneak peak

Here's a peak at chapter 11 should be out tonight!!!

********

It had started the previous month, not long after him and Laci had gotten together, everyone was gathered at Frankies. Santi had gone to the bathroom, and when he came out, his eyes, as always, searched for his girl. Unable to find her pale yellow dress in a sea of brown, white and blue on his friends, he turned to Frankie, who immediately pointed to where she had wandered off on his lawn, saying she got a phone call. 

“Who called her?” Santi asked.

“I don’t know” Frankie raised his hands in defense. “I didn’t ask. A doctor, a friend?”

Will turned to Santi. “Does she… have friends?”

“Don’t be shitty” Benny admonishes his brother.

“I’m not! I’ve only ever seen her hang out with you and Pope”

Santi muttered, watching Laci pace on the grass Frankie had spent an inordinate time manicuring in an attempt to keep himself busy. “I should probably do something about that…” Santi muttered, vaguely aware of the fact she didn’t have friends other than Ben, but distracted by Laci clearly distressed on the phone. 

“You’re not her dad Santi, you don’t have to set up playdates”

Briefly distracted, he turned to glare at Will “I’m not- ugh. Never mind”

Frankie chimed in. “Maybe she’s ready to do something outside of the house”

“Yeah” Santi muttered again. “I don’t know if she’s ready to work, but I’ll ask her…”

“Maybe not work, but something else. Maybe volunteering or a class, something she can do without you or Benny for a bit, but you aren’t far? I can ask Jana if there’s anything she knows of.” Jana worked at a women’s shelter.

“Yeah, that’s be great, thanks, Fish” Santi meant it, but he didn’t have time for sincerity. Laci had finished her call, walking towards him, but stopping as she hung up, near the bottom of the deck stairs. The look she gave him, it didn’t take their connection to read; she needed him, now. Santi set down his beer and ran to her, she practically collapsed into his arms. Benny was close behind him, placing a hand on her arm, rubbing it as he whispered assurances and Santi held her tight. Will and Frankie had wondered closer, giving her space, but both were worried, wondering what the phone call was.

When her sobs subceeded, Santi pulled back enough for her to communicate via facial expressions and sign language if she was unable to talk; Benny hand an arm wrapped around her, coaxing her to talk. ”Hey Lace, what happened honey?”

Santi saw Laci glace around. “Do you want to go home to talk about it? Or just some space?”

She shook her head. “I’m glad you’re all here.”

Santi squeezed her hand. “What happened, Munequita?”

“It was the justice department.” Laci muttered.

***********

Shouldn't be a super long chapter, not like some of the others.

Anyone wanna guess why the justice department called Laci?

Come read Leather and Lace!

[pleb-the-original]

Day 14: Bug

(so the starting idea came about for this easily, like literally one of the easiest options. problem was the actual content. luckily I was able to piece together a good narrative that fits with we already know. as for the blurb at the end, I noticed that I kinda slipped into certain genres for these. so i figured why not make the one sided interview parts connected?)

Oh! Oh h-hello. Sorry, you all startled me. I-I don’t get visitors very often, especially n-n-not here at the p-plant. M-my story? Y-yeah, I can do that. So it started with Shappa, she’s a sandhill crane Eden Demon. She made a bet with someone about what kind of cryptid people would make out of her appearance. She wanted an owl, but she got me instead. I only learned this after I was truly formed. The first years were rough. I still don’t know why they blame me for taking his dog, he ran off I swear! I couldn’t have even done anything to it, I have a proboscis! Not to mention balancing being seen and not seen at the same time. At least the Cryptidmaster was there for me. He was kind and understood my nature. I’ve always been a little fearful of everything, but he told me that my skittishness was just who I was as a moth. I mean what’s more delicate than a moth? He hung around even after granting me my gift of language. I wonder what he saw in me sometimes. The bridge? It always ends up at the bridge doesn’t it? Look, I never did anything to that bridge. I just have really sensitive hearing, sensitive enough to hear that eyebar getting ready to keel over. I was just trying to warn people, I hoped that by staying near the bridge that people would be scared off and stay away. I think you already know how that went. Ever since, people have believed that I can predict disasters. I’ve been even more ragged ever since, because I can and I can’t. What I mean is, I can tell when and how a disaster is gonna happen. Sometimes I sense it, but most of the time it appears as a vague warning in my head like a vision. But the worst part is that I can never tell when it's gonna happen. So I have all these clues to stop disasters, but I can never know if I’ll be able to prevent them in time. I’ve become a nervous wreck ever since. I mean, sometimes I do manage to avert some things around Point Pleasant. I’ve also seen how much they appreciate me now. Oh yes, the little demon did try and get me to join in that festival but I was still too nervous. I’m hoping to try again this year actually. I just hope that maybe if I come clean, I could prevent more disasters. Then I could finally take the weight off my shoulders. Ok, one more question. Chernobyl? Why would I go there? That’s way outta my jurisdiction. 

(Report: Mothman interview went as well as the others. Very much anxiety ridden but is coping quite well with the level of fame he has gotten. As for the presence of psychic abilities, I’m surprised this has slipped through. Can we provide some therapy for him? I feel kinda bad. This should be good for the Catalog. - Coraline)

[topgunstorytimexo]

Hole in one: Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Okay Hi, Here is a Jake Seresin fluff! xo It was something i had been thinking about so i just wrote it!

Warnings: Swearing, sexual language (mild), Mild implying of sex, Kissing... lots of kissing.

“Seresin I’m coming for you” you say as you point to him and you get your stance ready. “It’s literally mini golf, settle down” he says laughing as you shake your head “And let you win? Absolutely not” he began laughing as you did and lost your focus. “Stop it!” You say as he bites his tongue and you get back into your stance. You wind up and hit the ball as he coughs to distract you but you sink the ball, as he groans. “Again?” He exclaims as you shrug your shoulders “It’s only mini golf” you say as he locks eyes with you and you stick your tongue out. You and Jake were best friends. He was one of the first people you met here when you came to live with your Aunt Penny. He was early to the bar, before the rest of the guys so he sat with you at the bar before your shift. He threw a guy out of the bar that was disrespecting you and didn’t even wait for you to ring the bell. You had been spending the day together since his top gun training had gotten dismissed early, and had been going around the strip checking out the different attractions and enjoying all that the little fair and town had to offer. Today wasn’t any different than any other time you had hung out with Jake, it was just a comforting feeling to be with him. 

“Time for Daddy to show you how it’s done” he said as you cringed and began laughing “Why would you say that, you weirdo” he bent over and wiggled his butt as you began laughing. You walked over and play slapped his butt as he hit it causing him to over power and he turned around with his jaw dropped, his mouth in the shape of an O. “Um, that’s my ass” he said as you shook your head “You loved it” he nodded “I did love it” he said as you shook your head. “I will get a hole in one today” you say as he nods “Okay, and I’ll fly to the moon” he said as you began to laugh. “If I get a hole in one, we have to do what I want for the rest of the night. If you get one we do what you want.” He nodded “DEAL” he said confidently as you continued playing, trying to get a hole in one and not being able too. You got down on your knees and took the pool shot, Jake laughing at you and taking out his phone to take a picture. “Save that for one day for me to remember how limber I was” he nodded “Oh I can do that” you rolled your eyes. You were used to his flirty comments, and you did it right back to him. Nothing had ever happened with you two, but you never counted it out cause there was some close calls. Your scores were staying pretty close and as you approached the last hole you were begging whatever god that may or may not exist to help you. Jake had already taken his shot, and it was all on you. 1 for the win, 2 for the tie, 3 for the loss. You shut your eyes and took the shot as jake stood around the corner where the hole was. He began cheering as you ran over and the ball was gone, he pointed down the hole and ran over and picked you up and twirled you around. “You did it!” He said as you cheered and when he put you down you guys looked at each other. The moment seemed to be saying a lot in the silence, and you knew what you wanted to do. 

 “So what do you want to do” he asked, still holding you around your back you felt warmth going to your core. His dirty blonde hair was shiny and his blue eyes and scruff on his face looked exceptionally beautiful today. “Well there is something I’ve wanted to do” you say as his eyes widened “Is it the Ferris wheel?” He asked as you shook your head “Not quite” you say as he raises an eyebrow “What is it” he asked as you leaned up and kissed him as you held it for a moment and you felt his body seep into yours, almost like he was melting into you. He pushed into the kiss, your back bending a little as he readjusted his grip on your lower back and mid back. When you parted he looked at you, confused but happy. “How fucking long have you waited to do that” he asked you shrugged, still out of breath. “Probably too long” you say as he shook his head, smirking “Well I’ll be damned” he said as you felt your cheeks turning red. “So it was okay” you say as he nods “Yeah I mean practice makes perfect so we should probably go work on it” he said as you began laughing and he took your hand. You thought you were heading back to his place, and you figured he wouldn’t waste long to rip your clothes off only he passed the exit. “Where are we going?” You ask as he smiles, reaching over and grabbing your hand bringing it up to kiss it. “You’ll see” he said as you squinted your eyes, the curiosity killing you but him having your hand in his kept you distracted. You couldn’t help but watch him drive, the way he glanced down to the speedometer and checked the mirrors, the one hand on the steering wheel the other holding yours. The wind blowing in both your hair as you turned back to the front as you saw you were heading towards the pier. Jake knew this was your favourite place and it caused you to beam with excitement. “Are we going to Fiddlers pier?” You ask as he nodded “Damn, can’t get you lost” you shook your head and leaned over giving him another kiss briefly, him trying to keep his eyes on the road. “Damn woman I am trying to drive here, stop making me want to kiss you” he said as you smiled, biting your lip “Sure thing Lieutenant” you said as he slightly bit his lip and shook his head.

When you got to the pier, Jake jumped out of his side and ran over as he made you wait for him. He opened your door and helped you out as you laughed “Jake I know how to open my own door” you say as he shook his head “I know I just wanted to get it for you” you smiled as he grabbed your hand and you both walked out onto the dock. You headed towards the pier and the lighthouse, walking over to the Bench and sitting down. It was quiet, only the sound of the wind and the seagulls. You were wearing a sweater thankfully but your legs were bare from the shorts. You sat down next to each other as he turned to you. He noticed your legs were cold and he pulled them up over his lap and began rubbing them to keep them warm. “I thought we were going back to your place” you say admittedly as he smiled “You thought I was going to immediately fuck you?” He said as you shrugged “With the amount of flirty comments you made before I kissed you I think it was fair to assume it wouldn’t be far off. Isn’t that what Jake Seresin does?” he nodded “I make a lot of jokes I know. Truth is I just wanted to come somewhere quiet and peaceful and  be with you. Or kiss you again and again. Really just take in the moment.” He said as he looked away at the water. “I didn’t know how you were going to react” you said as he smiled before locking eyes. “I honestly didn’t expect it. I’m always happy when I’m with you I just never thought this would be a possibility. You’re too good for me” he said as you laughed out loud “Jake what the hell do you mean” you say as he shrugs “You just give off the world is your oyster aura. You are beautiful and smart, and kind and down to earth. You are everything I could’ve imagined in a dream scenario for my partner.  I know we’ve now kissed and we can’t undo that but is that something you really want? Because that.. that was something” He asked as you paused. You never seen this side of Jake, the one that seemed vulnerable and calculated. He had always appeared cocky and even arrogant at times, something that made you crazy. He seemed like he was genuinely concerned about the state of you two moving forward. 

“I mean yeah I do want this. I want to see where it goes and how it goes anyway. You’re my best friend. Yeah the kiss seemed random but in my mind It could’ve happened at any given time” you say as he smiles and nods, looking at you as he double taps your legs. You shift them off him and you get up, sitting down in his lap and resting your cheek against his. You feel slight stubble  but it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Just curled up with him is the best way you could’ve imagined your evening going. Watching the sunset over the bay. “Well with that being said, do you want to do this. Officially?” He said as you looked over at him and nodded, smiling in confirmation. “Yes I do” you say as his smile widened “Okay… Now gimme a kiss pretty girl” he said as he leaned down and put your lips to his again. You held his face with your left hand, your right arm wrapped around him as you sat on his lap with your legs resting on the bench beside you. You parted, only for a moment as you continued to keep the chain of kisses going. When you parted he rubbed his nose against your nose and kissed your cheek before you began cuddling again, cheek to cheek, overlooking the water. “I think this might be the most at peace I’ve ever been” he said as you curled your lip. You began to play with his hair, looking at the strands as you put your fingers through them. “I did not know you were capable of being this sweet” he dropped his jaw “I’m offended by this, really, I’m very hurt that you didn’t assume under the layers of good hair and arrogance that you didn’t assume I’d be a good guy” he said as you laughed “Is this our first fight?” You ask as he begins nodding “It is, I’m going to need my space for about 5-10 minutes and then I’m going to need you to come back and kiss me” he said with his playful tone and facial expressions but then smiling as you looked at you again.

You guys watched ducks floating with the current, the boats speeding bye and the planes over head. You talked about life and you guys just cuddled together.

 “To think, none of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten a hole in one” he began laughing “oh speaking of which” he reached in his pocket and pulled out your golf ball, your jaw dropped and your eyes widened “What the fuck is that?” You asked, beginning to laugh. “You wanted a hole in one, so I grabbed the ball when you didn’t get one cause I wanted to see you happy. You also do that jump when you’re excited. Or the way your dimples only come out when you’re happy, but genuinely happy not just vibing happy. But now we have a physical representation of the moment from our first kiss” he said as your heart skipped a beat. “Jake Seresin you cheesy, cheesy man” you said as he smiled.

“I couldn’t let you know I was like this sooner cause you would’ve fallen in love with me.  It's my curse, see what happens when I let you win one mini golf game, you kiss me. You wouldn’t have been able to keep your hands off me” he said as he rolled his eyes and you play slapped him as he brought you into another kiss. It was deep, you even slightly moaned into it, something you hoped he hadn't noticed. “So what now” you say as he shrugs. “Oh I think you know what happens now” you smiled “I thought you weren’t going to fuck me yet?” You say as he shrugs “Shouldn’t have kissed me like that” he said as he picked you up, carrying you back to the car before racing for his house.

A/N: Something about soft hangman is just *swoon*. Hope you guys enjoy this one! when i have specific requests for scenarios it's easier for me to write them and it can be more detailed so feel free to send in whatever your heart desires! xoxo. This one was also suggested by @kajjaka xx

[chippedaxe]

hello!! could i ask for a request where dream used to be a top but his ego has gotten up too high and the reader is tired of him being a bitch and decides to turn into the bitch? so it’s like sub!dream x dom!dream. i don’t really have ideas of what could happen, maybe dream won lost a manhunt and is pretty mad and yeahhh :) thank you already!

☆○o。　　。o○☆

Title: Poor Baby

Warnings: NSFW !Minor's steer clear, coarse language, praising, teasing, degrading, bit of humiliation, nipple play, fingering, anal play, begging, idk if there should be more.

Pairing: Sub! Dream X Dom! Reader

Pronouns: They/Them, non specified genitalia,

Synopsis: Dream tries to dominate you but you've had enough so you toy with Dream.

Word count: 1.5k

Note: tbh i was rlly confused so i hope this is somewhat what u wanted <3

- if it doesn't make sense like halfway thru the story then I'm rlly sorry, I wrote half of it one time and half of it another time (and I don't rlly reread or edit my work)

☆○o。　　。o○☆

Dream storms into the room looking angry, his hands have been balled into fists and you can tell that he's not thinking rationally "Dear- what's wrong? What happened, baby?" you tried to calm him down but he completely dismissed you "Take off your clothes." he ordered "excuse me?" you were taken back "come on- please just take off your clothes,, manhunt made angry.." Dream grumbled.

"Baby, just calm down.. Rest" you pulled him down onto the bed gently "Sweetheart, don't you want my cock?" Dream grabs your chin and looks into your eyes "of course I do-" he stops you right there "Then why're you being difficult?" he caresses your cheek, "Well I just feel like you're acting like a serious bitch right now" you confessed bluntly.

"Me? A bitch?" Dream groaned at your words, his hands reaching out to touch you but you stand up from the bed "Yeah. A really big bitch. So why don't you just calm down and rest, okay?" you put your hands on your hips and looked down at him "You don't give the orders okay? I give them! I'm the dominant one here!" Dream exclaimed "Then maybe I should be." you shut him down.

"What? You? Dom me? I don't think so" Dream chuckled to himself, "You think it's so funny now but wait I'm making you dizzy and seeing stars from how good I can make you feel.." you warned him "How do you expect to get me to be submissive for you?" Dream growled "Watch me." you responded as you then approached him.

You straddled his knee and crawled onto his lap, your hands moving to his chest "This is all you've got?" Dream rolled his eyes "Of course not, this isn't even close to the beginning" you leaned down to kiss his neck. You turned your head to the side and began suckling roughly on his skin, biting gently every few seconds "Ah- Yeah, keep doing that, doll." Dream tried to make it seem like he was in control but his words only affirmed your new dominant position.

"Yeah? You like it when I suck on your neck? I bet you'll like it a lot when I suck your cock too.." you tease him, your hands feeling up his chest and groping the man. "Don't tease me, or I'll punish you" Dream tried to sound scary "Punish me? But I'm being so kind, dominating you when you're clearly not fit to be on top.." you decided to bully him a little bit with some degrading words.

"Huh? What? What're you saying.." Dream started to get real riled up, his face starting to glow a bright red "What? Is my Dream angry with me?" you acted coy, kissing his jaw and pouting "Sorry Dream, I know how sensitive you are.." you teased him further "Don't make me flip you over and ram you- I will do it!" he threatened "Oh I bet you will.." your voice was condescending.

Your hands slid Dream's shirt off his body, revealing his tense muscles "Oh wow.. You look so pretty, all of this for me darling?" you cooed "Don't talk like that, I'm not you're little sub!" Dream shouted "Of course not, you're just someone who's below me and is acting quite submissive..." you pointed out. Your hands were cold, finger tips colder, pinching Dream's nipples to get a reaction out of him.

"H-uhgh..." Dream let out a small noise, his erection growing in his pants until it became a raging boner. "Aw you like when I play with your nipples? That's adorable.." you tease him as you continue to toy and play with his soft buds "n-no!" he was surely embarrassed, probably feeling humiliated. "Stop it- You're humiliating me!" Dream complained "Oh am I? You want me to stop? Then beg me, slut."

Dream went quiet and he froze up a little bit, clearly not expecting you to talk to him like that "Speak Darling, or are you too dumb?" you teased him. Dream gulped nervously and glanced up to meet your gaze "Please stop teasing me- please!" he gasped. "Okay, what do you want me to do?" you leaned over him.

Dream shuddered slightly "I want you to touch me properly!" he spoke up "What's the magic word?" you placed your hands on your hips, clearly enjoying the sudden change in superiority. "P-Please.. Please touch me, Please.." Dream groaned softly, you almost felt bad from the way he was begging you. Almost.

You looked down at him, his cock twitched in his pants, growing harder against the tight fabric "It hurt's so bad.. Please help me.." Dream hugged you and hung his head on your shoulder. "Okay baby, I'll help you.." you unzipped his pants just a bit so you could slip your hand in to palm him gently.

"Ah- I need more.. Please.." Dream bucked his hips up against your hand, desperately trying to grind against you but to no avail. "Be patient darling" you hushed him up and pulled his penis out, stroking his length gently. You admired the way it throbbed in your hand, twitching slightly as Dream rolled his head back and groaned "You're not usually this vocal, something change?" you smirked at him.

"That feels so good, so good.." Dream rolled his hips against you, legs closing together to give him a little more friction "Uh uh- open up." you slapped his thigh which made him open them back up reluctantly. You wanted to give in and let Dream fuck your insides but you fought the urges, today you were going to fuck him instead.

You took off his pants finally, letting the blonde boy relax more. "I'm gonna try something new with you, alright?" you didn't give Dream much time to answer as your hand dipped down between his legs, one of your fingers thrusting into his tight hole. "Ah! I- I've never touched there before!" Dream was feeling a little bit shy clearly.

"Your walls are sucking my fingers in so well, oh my god.. I should definitely buy a dildo or something for you.." you thought out loud to yourself. Dream quivered underneath you, his hole clenching around your finger at the thought of you fucking him with a toy. "M- More.." he was definitely feeling ashamed, his head turned away to face the wall.

You gave him what he wanted and stuck a second finger inside, curling them gently to press against his prostate. Dream squealed and covered his mouth to hide his lewd noises "Hands off." you instructed "But-" he protested "But nothing, hands off yourself or I'll stop touching you" you argued. Dream swallowed his pride and removed his hands, letting out a loud sound when your fingers thrusted deeper inside of him.

"Do you like this?" you asked "Of course- It feels so sO good!" Dream cried out "You like it more than when I play with your penis?" you questioned, Dream nodded and bit on his lip to keep quiet "So.. You'd let me do this again sometime?" you were starting to feel really excited "W-Whenever you want!!" Dream was now completely your bitch.

"I-I think I'm gonna cum, it feels sO weird!" Dream babbled on and on "Nuh uh- not unless you say you're my bitch." you wanted desperately to hear him say those little words "What??" you slowed down your pace and started to gently remove your fingers "No- No! I-I'm your bitch! I said it! I'm your bitch! Now please let me cum!" he bawled.

"Good boy.." You sped it up, not giving any mercy to his ass as you finger fucked him. "AH! I'm cumming! FUCK!" he arched his back, walls convulsing around your fingers as his hot white liquid spat out of his cock and ran down his legs. "Dirty slut, go clean yourself up" you snickered down at him before pulling your fingers out of his ass and leaving the bedroom.

You're not a monster so you obviously won't just be leaving him there, although it's not like you're gonna help him much. You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and came back to hand it to him, he weakly reached out to grab the bottle but dropped it "Don't tell me.. Does my little slut need help drinking from a bottle? Pathetic.." you spat at him before drinking some of the water.

You grabbed his chin and opened it gently, spitting your water into his mouth for him to swallow. Dream gulped it down and flushed a deep red, "Thank you.." he thanked you and was flustered. "No problem, I love you baby." you kissed his cheek "I love you too, thank you for taking care of me today.. I think I liked it better when you were in charge.." Dream admitted "I was thinking the same thing, sweetheart" you smiled at him.

[luna-writes-stuff]

Thank you for taking my request!! I loved it and if you’re willing to do another one for Kaz, could you write Kaz headcanons about his crush aka reader getting injured on a heist because of an accidentally mishap by Jesper? Thank you either way!!

Oops?, Kaz Brekker

Injured s/o might be my favorite trope. Got a bit carried away while writing. Sorry in advance.

Headcanons, genderneutral s/o

Tw: Angst, descriptions of a fight, being smashed into a wall, blood, injuries, stabwound, concussion….basically the whole shebang. Shooting, killing, breaking someone’s bones, Jesper did an oops, passing out, worried Kaz (that’s new), throwing up, Kaz touches hands with reader. That seems like enough, don’t you think?

- This job wouldn’t even be that difficult or complicated. All you had to do, was to steal a key for a heist that would occur at the same evening. It was a small pickpocket job. One that Kaz could’ve easily done if he hadn’t been busy helping Wylan get hold to a bunch of bombs.

- So there you stood, with Jesper, in the middle of a busy street. The people were swarming around you, but it would only make the job of stealing easier. Jesper’s job had been to distract the victim as you slid past him, grabbing the key from his pocket. Jesper had even gotten lined from Kaz to ensure that he wouldn’t screw up.

- “There he is.” Jesper had announced, pointing towards a man with an awfully obvious mustache, walking towards the pair of you. You quickly separated from Jesper before the target would see you. Just then, you fellow crow put on his disguise as a lost boy.

- “Excuse me,” he had started, walking up to the confused man. “but do you happen to know where the docks are? I fear I’ve gotten myself lost a bit.”

- You rolled your eyes at Jesper’s attempt of appearing lost. If you had not known him, you would’ve perhaps believed him, but right now, it was just stupid to look at.

- You found yourself placed on the other side of the street, behind the man. Without attracting too much attention to yourself, you walked along with the crowd, now approaching his back. With a quick hand, you fished something out of his pockets, walking away just as quick as you had approached. Your steps not wavering.

- But just then, a second voice was heard; “That does not belong to you, girl.”

- You did not stop your pace, only speeding up a bit, but not too much, just in case the speech had not been directed towards you.

- But it had been.

- You see….Jesper had been talking to the wrong person. It was another man with a big mustache, but not the one he should’ve been looking for. You however, had found the right man, but now, there was no distraction.

- Suddenly, you got grabbed by your arm, being dragged into a side-alley. Quickly, you feigned a confused expression, turning towards the man, pretending to speak another language.

- “It doesn’t matter what language you speak; you have something that belongs to me.” At those words, he held up the key you were looking for.

- “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Looking down towards your hand, you found a blunt piece of metal, the same weight and size as a key, but not so much the shape of one. It had been a decoy.

- “Who sent you, girl?” He question, taking a threatening step towards you. You didn’t move one step. Instead, you fiddled with the metal, trying to find a sharp piece to attack him with, but when you found none, disappointment struck you.

- “I asked you a question, dear.” With that, you dropped the metal, punching the man in his face. It worked, but only for a minute. He wavered but came to his senses as quickly as it went.

- From behind you, someone pinned your arms, throwing you towards the nearest wall. The man had been expecting this and had even gotten back-up. And Jesper was still talking to a random civilian, probably wondering why you haven’t shown up yet.

- The impact with the wall caused the air to leave your lungs, the back of your head hitting the concrete. A loud ringing had filled your ears, leaving you incapable of hearing anything else at the moment. But you were smart. Rolling away quickly, you pulled the man down to the floor.

- Climbing over him, you grabbed one of the knives Inej had so kindly gifted you once. Without hesitation, you plunged it into his neck, ensuring he wouldn’t attack you anymore.

- You hadn’t been given time to get back up. A sharp pain suddenly filled your side, the feeling as if a cut brick had been thrown against it.

- “You’re not the only one with knives on you.” The target growled, now kneeling down to come face to face with you. Your vision became blurry. Whether that was because of your earlier impact with the wall or the blood seeping out from your body, you didn’t know.

- “I don’t need knives.” You managed to get out, grabbing the man’s hand that held onto the dagger, pushing his pinky back, effectively breaking it.

- While he fell back in pain, you crawled away from the scene, trying to stay hidden. With your current state, defense was something that would only slow more over time. From corner of your eye, you saw the target getting back up, but he fell down the moment both feet touched the ground, a loud bang following his fall.

- “Saints, Kaz is never going to live this one down.” A familiar voice mumbled, quickly nearing you. “You stay awake or we’ll both be in big trouble, okay?”

- No answer came out of you. The spinning in your head made you nauseous beyond belief. You had already started to lean down, feeling the vomit coming up. The last thing you remembered were Jesper’s hands holding your hair back while you threw the nausea out.

- You had woken up in your own room a few hours later. Your waist had been covered in bandages while semi-wet towel rested beside your head, which had probably fallen off during your sleep. Nina’s perfume hung in the air, letting you knew she had been here not too long ago.

- As your eyes tried focusing on the room, a sting hit your side, causing you to turn over and grunt in annoyance.

- “Don’t move. We just changed the bandages.”

- The voice made you freeze, halting your movements to your side, instead laying back down. You had expected Nina or Inej to be here, maybe even Jesper, but not Kaz.

- “And don’t think too much or try to talk. You’ve suffered a heavy concussion.” If your eyes could’ve allowed you to roll them, you would have. But it hurt like hell at the moment, so you deemed it wise to not use them too much.

- “Would you rather I fall back asleep?” You mumbled teasingly, yet the sound of sleep did come off as appealing. Passing out was not like sleeping at all. You felt exhausted, but you could not pass an opportunity to annoy Kaz.

- “That would be wise, yes.” Was his simple response. You slowly turned your head towards his voice, scanning your surroundings at his side of the room.

- “Tough luck, Brekker.” He did not respond to that comment. You took it as a sign to continue; “Did Jesper get the key?”

- “Along with three weeks of cleaning duty, yes.”

- When silence overtook the room once again, he slowly reached for your hand, placing his on top of yours before linking your thumbs together. The entire action left you frozen, scared to move even the slightest bit.

- “Go to sleep. You need to recover. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Was all he said, before slumping back in his seat on the chair beside you, his hand not once straying for yours.

- The need to annoy him had now completely subsided and had instead been replaced with the annoying feeling of bubbles in your stomach. That tickling feeling that was nowhere near funny, but could only make you stop your train of thought.

- Perhaps it was best for you to close your eyes. You mission had succeeded and judging on Kaz’ comments, so had the heist at the same evening. You were too tired to ask how long you were out and whether the heist succeeded or not. You started to obey Kaz’s command, closing your eyes, focusing on the feeling of Kaz’s hand on yours, no gloves or piece of fabric separating you. It was just you and him. And for now, that was enough.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Obedience

Part two 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: after being tortured by HYDRA, you have to obey every command given to you

warnings: mentions of suicide

Masterlist

“How is she?”

Steve stared at you with sad eyes, watching your through the glass window on your door. It had been three months since HYDRA captured you during a mission. In those three months, they put you through a form of torture worse than the team could imagine. You’d finally be found and had been staying in the hospital until your vitals were stable.

“Not good.” The nurse sighed. “She doesn’t say much. Eye contact is even more rare.”

“Do you know what they did to her?”

“It’s unclear.” The nurse said. “She has no physical injuries. She doesn’t like it when we turn the lights off, though. We think they kept her in the dark.”

“Can I see her?” He asked, without taking his eyes off you.

“You can.” She nodded. “We can’t promise she’ll speak to you.”

“I’m gonna try.” Steve smiled at the nurse before going into your room. You jumped slightly and withdrew your knees to your chest at the sudden noise of the door opening.

“Hey Y/n.” Steve smiled at you as he slid his hands in his pockets. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey, captain.” You slowly unfurled your body at the sight of someone familiar. Steve went to close the door behind him, but you protested.

“Wait, don’t close the door. They used to…” You trailed off and seemed to space out, so Steve took his hands away from the door.

“It’s okay.” He assured you. “I’ll leave it open.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled quietly.

“No problem. Mind if I sit here?” He asked as he pointed to a chair by your bed.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded stiffly.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he took a seat.

“Not great.” You smiled weakly and rubbed the side of your head. “They uh, they fucked up my head, sir.”

“I heard. Here.” He handed you a bottle of juice he grabbed from the cafeteria. “You should drink something.”

“Thank you, sir.” You didn’t look at him as you accepted the bottle. You took a long sip and grimaced after you swallowed it.

“Whats wrong?” He asked when he saw the look of disgust on your face.

“I hate orange juice.” You confessed as you took another sip.

“Then why are you drinking it?” He wondered. “I have water right here.”

You took the glass of water and briefly looked him in the eyes, giving him a weak smile.

“It’s HYDRA. They got inside my head.” You whimpered. “I cant say no to something, even when I want to.”

“Oh.” Steves face fell as you told him. “Don’t worry about this, Y/n. I’m gonna figure out how to fix you.”

“Okay.” You said cheerfully, sitting up straight with a bright smile. Your body language did not match your sudden chipper mood, and it alarmed Steve.

“Woah, what happened?”

“You told me not to worry.” You said sadly. His eyes widened as he realized the extent of your condition. He found it deeply disturbing to watch you, knowing your smile was fake, but kept a straight face.

“Right, sorry.” He nodded. “You can relax.”

With that, your body slumped and you fell over on the bed. You looked at him sadly as you laid there, looking anything but relaxed.

“This might be harder than I thought.”

~

When Peter heard the car door close, he rushed to the window. He stopped sleeping the first night you were gone and stoped eating when you were legally declared dead a month later.

“There you are.” Peter rushed away from the window to Steve. “Is Y/n with you? Is she okay?”

“She’s with me but she’s not okay.” Steve said quietly, giving Peter a stern look that told him to relax.

“Why?” He felt himself getting emotional. “What did they…”

He trailed off when you walked through the front door looking skinnier and smaller than ever. Peter let out a breath of relief as tears came to his eyes. You didn’t look at him, but he was staring at you.

“Hey.” You said weakly, slowly lifting your eyes to look at him.

“Hey.” Peter said back, wiping his face free of tears. “I missed you. I’ve been really worried. I, uh, how are you? How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” You nodded. “I’m just gonna go to sleep, if that’s all right?”

You looked to Steve for permission, which he wasn’t expecting. Peter looked between the two of you in confusion.

“Yeah, of course.” Steve told you. “You can do anything you want.”

“Thank you, sir.” You said softly.

“Are you sure?” Peter asked. “You’ve been gone for so long. You should eat something”.

You immediately stopped in your tracks and went to the kitchen. Peter watched as you robotically took an orange from the fruit bowl and began to peel it with shaking hands.

“Whats happened?” He whispered to Steve. “Why is she doing that?”

“Thanks to whatever HYDRA did to her, she obeys every command given to her.” Steve whispered back as he watched you.

“That wasn’t a command.” Peter told him. “I was just suggesting that she eat something. She looks so hallow.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Steve shrugged. “She just has to do what she’s told.”

“Is she in pain?” Peter asked him as he watched you with guilty eyes.

“Not physically.” Steve shook his head. “I think it’s hurting her on the inside. A lot.”

“Really?” Peter asked sadly. You had now finished your orange and sat waiting for further instruction.

“May I go to bed now, please?” You asked, uncharacteristically spoke spoken.

“Yeah.” Steve smiled softly at you. “You don’t have to ask.”

“Thank you.” You nodded before running off your room. Once you were gone, Steve hung his head in his hands and let out a long sign. Peter watched him curiously, not used to seeing him show this kind of emotion. He looked up with glassy eyes and looked at Peter, shaking his head sadly.

Two months since HYDRA

“Good morning”. You greeted Peter as you sat next to him at the kitchen table. It was a rare morning when you were out of your room, and an even rarer moment to see you smiling.

“Hey.” Peter smiled brightly at you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Um.” You bit your lip as you thought back on your restless night. “Fine. Just had a few bad dreams.”

“Do you want to talk about them?” Peter asked politely.

“I would prefer not to, if that’s okay?” You asked him as if it was up to him. It pained him to see you asking permission for everything.

“Then we won’t.” He assured you. “Do you want some cereal?”

“You mean you didn’t eat it all?” You teased, showing a glimmer of your usual self.

“Shut up.” He chuckled as he nudged you. You instantly shut your mouth, looking frustrated with yourself for doing so.

“Sorry.” Peter apologized immediately. “I didn’t mean it like that. You can speak.”

“Thank you, sir.” You cleared your throat, all traces of the person Peter once knew reverting back inside.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He said softly as he rubbed your shoulder. “And you don’t have to call me “sir.” It’s just me. Just Peter.”

“Can we just change the subject?” You asked him, looking at him with pain filled eyes.

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “Are you coming in the mission later?”

“Yeah.” Your smile returned again. “Mr. Stark cleared me for work last night.”

“Thats great.” Peter smiled back. “I’ve missed my partner in crime.”

“I missed you to.” Your smile faded a little. “Thinking about you was what got me through when they…you know.”

“I thought about you too.” Peter put his hand over yours and rubbed his thumb softly on your knuckle. “Every day. Nothing else would enter my mind.”

“Do you think I’m ever gonna be normal again?” You whispered as you leaned closer to him.

“I do.” Peter nodded, tilting his face to the side as he inches closer. “It’s all going to be okay.”

Peter your lips could touch, Sam walked in the room with a bowl of cereal. He was one of the Avengers who assumed you and Peter had gotten together years ago, so he didn’t feel bad interrupting your moment.

“Ew.” Sam snorted. “Don’t do that in front of my cereal.”

You immediately pulled away, physically having to obey Sam. You sighed angrily and looked at Peter with sad eyes before getting up.

“Y/n.” Peter called after you, not wanting you to leave but not wanting to give you a command. You kept walking, not wanting to talk about what happened.

You didn’t bring up the almost kiss all day, which Peter was grateful for. You acted normal around him at the mission, too excited to be working again to think about the awkward moment. You focused on completing your task and got through most of the mission without a problem.

“I got the vials.” You proudly held up three stolen vials of Pym particles to show Peter. He finished webbing the security guard and smiled at you.

“Nice job.” Peter high fived you. “Hank is gonna be so relieved.”

“I know. Come on we gotta go.”

You and Peter began to run towards the jet when you tripped an alarm by accident. A guard came out of the watchtower and shined a flashlight on you, making you run faster.

“Hey!” He shouted. “Stop right there!”

Your face scrunched in frustration as your feet stuck to the floor. You tried to keep running but you were stuck in place.

“What are you doing?” Peter exclaimed when he noticed you weren’t behind him. “We have to go!”

“I can’t move!” You shook your head angrily. “He told me to stop.”

“We gotta go.” Peter quickly scooped you up and ran with you. You held on to him and hid your face in his neck, not wanting him to see how upset you were. Peter ran all the way back to the jet and climbed inside.

“What happened to you two?” Tony asked as Peter set you down. You turned around and punched the wall out of anger as Peter watched you.

“He told Y/n to stop so she had to obey.” Peter said quietly, making Tony’s face fall. You turned around and nodded, looking angry with yourself.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” Tony sighed. “But until we get this figured out-“

“I can’t go on the missions.” You nodded, already knowing what was coming.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized.

“Yeah.” You sighed and kept your eyes down. “I’m sorry too.”

Eight months since HYDRA

“Where are you?” Peter called you to ask when he didn’t find you in the tower. You were usually waiting for him when he came from patrol, but you were nowhere to be found today.

“I’m at some store downtown.” You answered as you turned down a street corner.

“Alone?” Peter worried.

“It’s fine, Peter.” You assured him. “I was going crazy sitting in the tower all day. I needed to go out.” You sighed.

“It’s not safe for you to be outside when you can’t say no to anything.” Peter reasoned. “I can think of a million bad things that can happen. You shouldn’t be alone.”

Your feet started moving before you had a chance to process what he said and you planted yourself next to the first person you saw. You smiled awkwardly at the man and tried to walk away, but you were stuck. Peter told you not to be alone, so you had to obey.

“Nothing bad is going to happen.” You assured him. “No one knows about my condition.”

“Can I at least meet you where you are?” He asked, careful not to give you a command. “It will make me feel better.”

“Okay, fine.” You agreed. “You can meet me here.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Peter sighed in relief. “I’ll see you soon.”

You tried to walk again and were able to this time. You started walking down an alleyway to find a store to meet Peter at when you heard a mans voice behind you.

“Hey.” He called. “Slow down.”

You started walking slower despite your inner protest and felt your heart rate pick up. The footsteps behind you got faster and soon you were joined by the man from earlier.

“I overheard you on the phone.” He began. “Is it true you say yes to everything?”

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” You gave him a tight smile and continued walking slowly.

“Answer my question.” He called after you.

“It’s true.” You blurted, always having to obey. You began to sweat as he caught up to you again and began to toy with your hair.

“Interesting.” He remarked. “Spin around.”

You shut your eyes in frustration and spun around in a circle, earning an amused laugh.

“Wow.” He clapped his hands. “Isn’t that amazing?”

“I really have to go.” You told him. “Please just leave me alone.”

You started walking away again, allowed to run now since his original command wore off.

“Stop.” You heard his voice, and you had to stop.

“So it’s true.” He smirked as he circled around you. “You do obey everything. Even when you don’t want to?”

You stayed silent and kept your eyes down, praying he’d get bored and leave.

“Answer me.” He got too close to you to say into your ear.

“Yes.” You answered in a weak voice.

“I could have fun with this.” He smiled and folded his arms. He stared at you for a minute before tracing his finger along the side of your face. You tried to move but you stayed still.

“You don’t want to do this.” You told him. Your threat was pretty empty without your suit or your free will. If you tried to fight him, he could just tell you to stop.

“Aw, but I do.” He pouted. “You’re pretty when you threaten me. But it would sound a lot better if you had a smile on.”

You smiled against your will, feeling a hot flash of embarrassment.

“That’s better.” He talked to you like you were a child. “Now, walk with me.”

You began to walk side by side with him, having no idea where he was taking you. You passed some police officers on the street and tried to make eye contact.

“Don’t say anything.” He mumbled in your ear. “Keep your eyes down.”

You did as you were told and continued walking with him until you reached a black van.

“Get in the car.” He said, and you began to climb in. You tried to fight the urge to climb into the car, gripping the side and pushing yourself back. Your need to obey commands overtook your instincts and you got in the car.

“There we go. Now buckle your seatbelt and-“

Before he could finish his sentence, he was kicked in the head. You peeked your head out of the car and saw Peter punching the man in the face.

“Jeez, dude. Where are you manners?” Peter asked as he shook out his hand. He webbed the man to the ground and dialed 911 before turning to you.

“Peter.” You breathed in relief, forgetting he was supposed to meet you. Peter pulled you out of the car and hugged you tightly. You squeezed him back, grateful he was overprotective today.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “I heard him as I was swinging over.”

“What do you think?” You asked, suddenly getting angry. “Do you know how bad that could have been?”

“I know.” Peter nodded. “But it’s okay now.”

“Why does everyone keep saying this is okay?” You let go of Peter and backed away. “I have no free will. Do you know how it feels to not be the one in control?”

“I don’t. And I’m sorry.” He tried to calm you down. “But the team is doing everything they can to fix you. Just calm down.”

Your frown immediately faded as your shoulders relaxed, calming down against your will.

“I’m sorry.” Peter realized what he did. “I didn’t mean that as a command.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You shrugged sadly. “I still have to obey.”

“This won’t last forever.” He promised you. “But you shouldn’t go anywhere alone until we figure this out.”

“Great.” You laughed humorlessly. “So I already have to obey commands, and now I need a leash. HYDRA turned me into a fucking dog.”

“I’m sorry.” Peter mumbled, not sure what else to say. “I wish I could help you.”

“Stop apologizing. It’s not your fault.” You said without looking at him. He could tell you didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He apologized again before realizing what he said. “Shoot. Sorry. Let’s just go home.”

Your body jerked forward and you started moving in the direction of the tower. Peter squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself for giving you a command.

“I didn’t mean-“ He began as he jogged beside you.

“Whatever.” You cut him off, not wanting another apology. “It’s fine. Let’s just go home.”

~

You didn’t want Peter to think you were mad at him from the other day, so you went to his room to talk. He couldn’t be blamed for what happened with the man on the street, and you couldn’t be blamed for the anger it caused you. To make sure everything was okay, you knocked on his door and went it when you heard his voice.

“Hey, Pete. What are you up to?” You asked as you took a seat on his bed.

“I’m trying to fix the calibration on my web shooter. I couldn’t get a web out fast enough today.” He grumbled as he tweaked the wires that were popping out of his web shooter.

“Did something happen?” You worried, examining his face for injuries. He froze and looked up at you with guilty eyes.

“Um, kinda.” He answered before pulling up his shirt to reveal a deep, poorly bandaged wound.

“You got stabbed?” Your eyes widened. “Again?”

“You would not believe how fast knives have gotten.” Peter defended himself.

“I probably wouldn’t.” You shrugged. “It’s been five months since I’ve been on a mission.”

“Sorry.” He grimaced. “I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“It’s fine, Peter.” You shrugged it off. “Let me bandage you up. That’s not sanitary.”

“You don’t have to.” He told you and you gave him a look.

“But you can if you want.” He followed up. You had broken your habit of asking for permission for everything, but you were still sensitive about commands. You got up and got some of his medical supplies from his top drawer, knowing exactly where they were. You sat back on his bed and helped him pull his shirt over his head, pretending not to notice the way he flushed to his ears. You carefully removed his bandages and poured some hydrogen peroxide on a Cotten ball.

“This is gonna sting.” You said quietly as you looked in his eyes.

“Okay. Hold my hand, please?” He asked shyly as he uncurled his hand. You slipped your hand into his before you had time to process what he said.

“Wow.” You teased. “Using my condition against me, I see.”

“Well you’ve been isolating yourself so I’m taking advantage of my time with you.” Peter said, giving your hand a squeeze. “I miss you.”

“Yeah.” You squeezed back. “I miss you too.”

You smiled at him before dabbing the Cotten ball on his wound. You bandaged it tightly, smoothing your hand over his side to secure the gauze.

“Thanks.” He mumbled, never taking his eyes off you. “It feels better already.”

“No problem.” You smiled shyly. “How’s the web shooter coming along?”

“Let’s see.” Peter snapped out of his daze and picked his shooter back up. “Okay, be honest-“

“I like you.” You blurted, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth. Peter looked up in shock at your confession and dropped the shooter on his lap.

“What?” He asked, an involuntary smile breaking out into his face.

“I’m sorry. You said “be honest” and I must’ve taken it as a command.” You stammered as you got off his bed. “I’ll leave.”

“Wait! Don’t go.” Peter protested, making you stop in place. “I mean, I hope you don’t go.”

You were released from the command and found yourself able to move but not wanting to.

“I would appreciate it if you sat back down on my bed.” He said quietly, and you purposefully obliged.

“You don’t have to phrase everything like that.” You told him as you sat back down.

“I don’t want to give you any more commands.” He said softly. You gave him an appreciative smile and handed him his shirt, realizing he never put it back on. Peter thanked you and pulled it over his head, leaving his curly hair tousled and adorable.

“Do you really like me?” He asked quietly as he nervously pulled at his fingers.

“I do.” You nodded, finding no use in denying it. “That wasn’t exactly the way I wanted to tell you, but I do.”

“Well I’m not complaining.” Peter shrugged, making you laugh. “I personally think that was a perfect way to break the news.”

“Break the news.” You laughed again at his wording. “I’m not pregnant, Peter. Just in love with your dorky ass.”

“You’re so mean.” He laughed and shoved your slightly. You leaned into him as you came back from the shove, your faces almost touching.

“Kiss me.” He whispered as he looked into your eyes. You did as you were told, but it didn’t feel like a command. It felt like something you had been waiting for for years.

Peter kissed you back to the best of his ability, but his emerging smile kept getting in his way. He relaxed enough to stop smiling and put his hands on your face, kissing you the way he’d always wanted to. When you pulled away, he was finally able to let that smile out.

“Did you do that because you wanted to or because you were obeying me?” He asked softly.

“I promise, I wanted to.” You told him before pulling him into another kiss.

Ten months since HYDRA

“Y/n, please. I would like to talk about this.” Peter called after you as the two of you barged in the front door. Tony quickly stopped eating his lunch to eavesdrop on your fight.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Peter.” You grumbled as you walked past the kitchen. “Don’t follow me.”

“What happened?” Tony got up to stop you. “Are you hurt?”

You stayed quiet as you stared at Tony with pained eyes, feeling too embarrassed to explain what had happened.

“Do you want to tell him?” Peter asked quietly from behind you, not wanting to upset you anymore than you already were.

“I crashed my car.” You stated as you kept a straight face. You were just waiting for Tony to take away your driving privileges, one of the few things you had left.

“What?” He asked. “How?”

“It was my fault.” Peter began and you rolled your eyes. “She was bummed out about her condition so I told her to keep her head up and-“

“And I did.” You laughed humorlessly. “I kept it up so I couldn’t see the road and I nearly killed someone. I could’ve killed you!” You screamed at Peter.

“But you didn’t.” He said back, trying to stay calm. “It’s okay, really-“

“It’s not okay! Stop saying it’s okay!” You shouted as you tugged at your hair. “I can’t live like this anymore.”

“We’re working on a cure.” Tony assured you. “We’re going to-“

“To what? To fix me?” You asked. “You’ve been saying that for almost a year and I’m still like this. I can’t work, I can’t drive, I can’t go anywhere alone. What am I doing?”

“These things take time.” Tony said calmly but you weren’t having it.

“I don’t have time. I almost killed Peter today.” Your voice came out hoarse. “I nearly got myself killed a few months ago. If you don’t have a cure by next week, then…”

“Then what?” Peter interrupted, but you kept your back to him.

“Then it’s time to start thinking about my other options.” You said, only to Tony.

“What other options?” Peter asked but Tony knew exactly what you were talking about.

“It’s too soon to start thinking about that.” Tony stated. “Bruce and I are getting closer every day.”

“You said I had a year.” You reminded him. “It’s been a year.”

“It’s been 10 months.” Tony retorted.

“What are you talking about?” Peter asked again, getting more worried by the second.

“You promised.” You whispered. “You promised me we could talk about this if you couldn’t find a cure.”

“Talk about what?” Peter questioned, but was again ignored.

“I will find a cure.” Tony promised. “You just have to give me some more time.”

“I’m out of time. And so are you.” You angrily pointed at him.

“Screw this.” Peter sighed and jumped to drastic measures. “Y/n, tell me what you’re talking about.”

“Mr. Stark said he could euthanize me if he didn’t find a cure in a year.” You blurted. You turned around slowly and looked at Peter with betrayal in your eyes. He was too focused on what you just admitted to see the extent of what he had done.

“What?” He yelled. “You said what?”

“It’s none of your business, Peter.” You snapped. “How could you use my condition against me like that? You had no right to give me a command. You knew I’d have to obey it.”

“I’m sorry, I panicked.” He apologized. “You want to kill yourself?”

“You have no idea what pain I’m in every day.” You shook your head. “I gave it a year and I’m still miserable.”

“Miserable?” He whispered, taking your words personally. He knew you were still in pain, but he thought you’d been better since you started dating. Your words made him believe he was wrong. You noticed the sadness in his eyes and sighed, your anger simmering away.

“Could you give us a minute, Mr. Stark?” You asked without turning around.

“I’ll be in the lab.” Tony nodded, grabbing his food before leaving.

Once he was gone, you walked to Peter and pulled him into a kiss to apologize. He tearfully kissed you back before pushing you away and wiping his eyes.

“You’ve been miserable this whole time?” He sniffled.

“Not the whole time.” You promised as you wiped his tears. “But when I am fighting a constant battle of what I want to do and what I’m told to do, I end each day exhausted. It’s terrifying somedays. And it’s so, so lonely.”

“But you have me.” He said quietly.

“I do.” You smiled a little. “But you’re away a lot. And I can’t put all of my happiness on you. That’s not fair to you and not healthy for our relationship.”

“I know you’re hurting, but killing yourself is not the answer.” He told you. “How could you even consider that?”

“You don’t get it, Peter.” You sighed. “I am one part of your already great life. You get to go on life saving missions during the week and explore the city on your free time. And you have someone who loves you to come home to when you’re done. It’s not like that for me. All I have is you. I just sit here waiting for you to come home. Like I’m some kind of…”

“Dog.” He finished your sentence, understanding your pain in a new way.

“Exactly.” You nodded. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I’m hoping you can at least try to see things from my side.”

“I’m gonna start helping Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner in the lab.” Peter decided. “We’re the world’s mightiest heroes. One of us has to be able to fix this. This can’t be your last choice.”

“It’s been nearly a year Peter.” You shrugged sadly. “I don’t think this can be fixed.”

“But I can try.” He grasped your hands tightly.

“All I’m asking for is another year. One year to do everything I can to fix you.”

“I don’t know if I can take another year of this. I’m sorry.” You cupped his face to apologize, set on your decision.

“Please?” He whispered. “For me?”

“Okay.” You agreed, making his face light up. He hugged you tightly and kissed the side of your head, thanking you for giving him a chance. In the heat of the moment, it didn’t occur to Peter that you only agreed because you had to. You began to silently cry as you hugged him back, not having the heart to tell him you didn’t mean what you said. You didn’t want to agree, but you had no choice in the matter.

He asked for a year, and you had to obey.

PART TWO 

Tag List 🏷

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[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer is left waiting at a bar when he gets in some trouble, and meets a woman who offers to help him out in more ways than one.

Category: SMUT (18+)

Warnings: Language, virgin!Spencer, car sex/exhibitionism, handjob, brief mention of edging, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, degradation kink, minor voyeurism kink, dirty talk (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Word Count: 7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, there!! Most of you have been extremely excited about this one since I shared the idea for it a few weeks ago, and so I’m glad to finally get to release it for you!! There’s a playlist here for you to check out if you’d like some ~vibes~ and over on @mercy-midnight I shared a few visual inspirations last night, so check them out if you want! Thank you for all your enthusiasm over this fic, I hope it lives up to your expectations!! 🥰

***

I've always loved the rain.

And it was definitely going to rain soon. How soon, I wasn't entirely sure, but as I made my way into the bar, taking one final breath of fresh air before it would inevitably be taken over by alcohol, greasy food, and way too much cologne, I could smell it. Cool and fresh, waiting to serve as some type of fresh start, to wash away all the hard shit and give me a clean slate.

The gaudy ring on my finger was one of those hard things I wished I could wash away. At least, it had been for a long time. Patrick never asked for it back after he left, and I'd had every intention of pawning it off, but I started noticing—after a few nights out where I'd tried to get hammered and nailed—that it scared everybody off.

I guess no one wanted to fuck a married woman—and a drunk married woman at that. Even if she technically wasn't even married anymore. Which I found all particularly odd considering my experience with men in the past has proved to provide me with extremely low standards.

It'd turned out to be a blessing in disguise, though. Sure, it might have taken me longer to completely get over Patrick and the mess he left me, but rather than losing myself in the lonely company of strangers, I forced myself to reflect and move on, to take each day in stride and take time for myself. Could I have just taken the ring off and gotten laid? Absolutely. But being on my own like that was the wakeup call I didn't know I'd needed.

And now, almost a year later, the ring sat tucked away in my jewelry box until I wanted it— usually when I knew I was going to the bar with every intention of getting hammered and not nailed. There were the occasional persistent players, but they were few and far in between, and if all else failed I resorted to smiling sweetly at them and lying, saying my "husband" was a cop. That shut them up pretty quickly, and by that point I was ready to leave anyway.

Like I said, blessing in disguise.

After a long day at work being called in on a Saturday, a few drinks at Waterson's sounded like a perfect way to end the night. I'd gone home, showered, ate dinner, and got dressed before taking a walk down the block and crossing the near-packed parking lot. The air was quite muggy despite it only being around forty degrees, which was the first indicator of rain. The second was the smell, of course, which I'd always been fond of, and the cobbled pavement had some type of haze around it that served as the final confirmation of my theory.

Honestly, I was hoping to get caught in the rain on my way home. I couldn't tell you why, exactly, just that the idea of walking home in the rain gave me the most excitement I'd felt in a long time. Life was great at the moment, of course, but between work and my less than ideal commute there on the train every day, I think I was due for a little excitement.

That excitement, naturally, started once I opened the door to the bar, taking a step inside and quickly being smacked in the face with the smell of fried everything. A small smile crossed my lips as I went in further, jumbled conversations, glasses clinking, and music humming softly behind the sharp snaps of pool balls being shot forward with the cue completing the picture.

I walked up to the bar to find Carla standing behind it, and I smiled at her. "I didn't know you were working Saturday," I called to her as I approached.

The brunette looked over at me and beamed, her teeth as perfect as ever. "Y/N, I didn't know you came in on Saturdays! How've you been?"

I took a seat at one of the barstools, nodding as I set my wallet and my phone down. "Alright... Work's a bitch, of course, but when is it not?"

"Yeah, I hear that. There's only so much relentless flirting I can take." We shared a good laugh at that before she nodded. "What can I get you?"

"A beer?"

"You got it."

I turned around then, surveying tonight's crowd. Waterson's was decently sized— definitely not as big or popular as the other bars in the city, but it got enough traction on the weekends, and even on Tuesdays when they had open mics. As my eyes wandered, they passed over all kinds of people. Women in tight clothes and men all over them, large groups of friends over by the pool tables who were betting and yelling with large smiles on their faces, old men by themselves in some of the tucked away corners... Anyone you could think of, name it and they were there.

One scene in particular caught my eye, though, and I thought about leaving it alone, but my gut twisted when I noticed how obviously uncomfortable the person was and how there was no one around who seemed to care enough to say or do anything.

Sitting alone at a rather large table was a guy who... no offense to him or anything, but he didn't look like he belonged here, not alone anyway. With a formal button-down short sleeve, meek stature, and a pair of glasses sitting atop his nose, he was an easy target for the two men that were towering over him as he sat, eyes averting them while they conversed. It could have been nothing, but occasionally the man in the glasses would flinch or look around nervously like he was waiting to be rescued.

Not that I wanted to rescue anyone or anything tonight. But he reminded me of someone being stood up, and from experience I knew how embarrassing that was, especially in a space crowded with other people who could obviously see what was happening to you. I hated Patrick for standing me up time and time again, and it wasn't until this waitress once intervened and offered some advice that I started to understand just how fucked up it was. That didn't make it hurt any less, of course, when he inevitably said he was moving across the country and dropped divorce papers on my desk at work, but still... The talk gave me some clarity.

Whether or not this man was actually being stood up or not, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable, and I figured he could use some help.

And I had just the plan.

I watched the scene until Carla came back with my beer, at which point I turned to her with a smile and got money from my wallet.

"Hey, could I get another?"

***

"No, you specifically told me 8pm..."

"I'm pretty sure I told you 9..."

I sighed, glancing around briefly at everyone and everything around me before speaking again, almost yelling into the speaker over all the noise. "Maybe you meant 9, but you told me 8, so I'm here. Alone!"

"Hey, look, I'm sorry, Kid, alright? But we're not gonna be there until 9, so... keep yourself busy until then? Let loose, have a couple drinks..."

I could hear the smirk in Derek's voice just as easily as I could picture it in my head as I sighed out a, "Fine," and hung up. The whole situation significantly raised my blood pressure, not to mention my anxiety— It wasn't hard to see that I stood out here. Bars were most definitely not my scene, and the only reason I'd agreed to go in the first place was so that I could try something new. Expand my horizons, as Penelope had told me right before I caved and agreed to accompany her and Derek on their little outing. I'd even drove my car here, a move I rarely made, as a start.

But now I was sitting alone at a booth, a glass of water in front of me and this twisting sensation in my gut that usually came to me when I didn't know what was going to happen.

I leaned back in my seat and sighed, staring down the glass of water as my cellphone tumbled around between my hands. All I had to do was wait here for an hour and remind myself over and over that eventually I'd be with people that I knew, people that I felt comfortable around. Only an hour.

One hour...

One hour, one hour, one hour... It was a chant in my head that went through different pitches and speeds until it was interrupted by a loud, "Hey, you!"

It could have been for anyone, but it was right next to me, and I knew when I wasn't wanted somewhere.

Sure enough, I turned my head to see a rather large man, a football player-type if I had to guess, wearing a grey tee shirt that hugged every muscle. There was a beer in his hands, and someone next to him, another man slightly shorter but still definitely athletic, held what looked to be a glass of hard liquor. By the looks on their faces, it was obvious that they were looking for a fight.

And it was also obvious that I was the easiest target in the whole bar.

One glance at the clock across the room and above their heads told me that I still had 54 minutes until my friends showed up, and that meat I'd either have to give these men whatever they wanted, tell them I was just about to leave, or attempt to pull the "I'm a Federal Agent" card, which I knew would probably get more laughs from them than a simple, "Sorry," and an exit.

I was about to run through every outcome of tonight's events in my head when the bigger guy spoke again, making me jump.

"Hey, m' talking to you!" He was drunk, most likely toeing the line between sobriety and a fist fight if I wasn't careful.

"I—Is there something you need?" I asked, hoping that if I could get this over with quickly, they'd leave me alone and maybe I could get out of here...

He mocked my voice in a way I'd heard more than once while growing up, and though I knew it was childish of him, saying more about him than me, the action got to me more than I cared to admit. Call it intuition, but when a nearly-drunk guy two times your size starts picking on you like a kid and you know he's just looking for a fight, the odds aren't very good when you're someone on the smaller side like me— Federal Agent or not. And he wasn't an unsub. He wasn't someone I could pick apart and just hand over to my team once I pushed back his defenses. If I picked this man apart, he'd likely throw a punch at my face.

Of course, I could get him arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent, but... Obviously I didn't want to get punched in the face.

As soon as his mumbled mockery of my words ended, he punctuated them with his own. "Yeah, I'm thinkin' I need you to find a new place to sulk. Go to the library or somethin'."

His friend laughed beside him like he'd just said the best comeback anyone's ever heard, and that alone almost made me laugh. Though, I knew that might have gotten me into more trouble.

Speaking of, I probably should have just got up to leave. That would have been the perfect time to say, "Okay," get up, and drive home. Sure, Penelope and Derek would have probably given me crap about chickening out, but I'd have avoided getting beat around or ridiculed further by these morons, so it was overall a win, right?

But my stupid mouth didn't agree with what my brain was thinking. "Oh, well, um... I'm waiting up for some friends, they should be here soon—"

"You have friends?" the other guy retorted before I could finish, and he looked proud of himself for it.

"Look, I don't care who you're waitin' on, pal, Right now you're alone, so I want y—"

I didn't see it coming. I couldn't have seen it from a mile away, never dreamed of anything like this happening in a million years. It was certainly not one of the possible outcomes to the night that I'd had in mind. And actually, even if I'd had any time to prepare for it, seeing the woman walk up to us with two beers in her hand and the biggest smile on her face, I still wouldn't have believed what was happening.

She blocked me from the men's line of sight, sitting herself promptly on my lap as she set the drinks down. "Hey, babe, I'm back with our drinks," she chirped, leaning forward and stopping just under my ear, whispering. "If you play along, I can get them to leave you alone..."

She didn't even give me any time to process, quickly pulling back, but not before kissing me firmly on the cheek, leaving my face in a warm flush as she turned back around to survey the men, who I'd quite frankly forgotten about once she pressed her soft lips to my skin and set her hands on my chest.

What the fu—

"Who're you talking with?"

Her voice was so... low and smooth, and it sent a flood of warmth throughout my whole body. If I could have bottled up her voice to drink, I would have. But instead, I settled for the beer she'd brought, grabbing it and chugging down four big gulps even though I hated it.

"You're with this... loser?" the bigger of the two men said, and truthfully it was the first time all night I'd well and truly felt inadequate in front of them. Sure, I knew I'd stood out, that physically I was weaker than them, but I also knew that deep down they were just drunks looking for a fight. I was better than that, regardless of whether or not they'd almost bullied me into leaving the bar.

I didn't have a problem with who I was, but when it came to women, I was pretty much a total wreck. I'd only ever kissed someone once, and much like back then, this woman was absolutely stunning and completely out of my league.

The man was right to be suspicious.

"Excuse me?" my savior retorted, standing up off my lap and removing herself from me completely. I exhaled, trying hard not to look like I was just as shocked as they were as she tore them a new one. "This loser happens to be my fiancée. And I'd watch what insults you're throwing around— You're the ones going around some bar picking on someone you don't know like you're middle schoolers. Now grow the fuck up and back off before I take your drinks and shove them so far up your asses you'll still be able to taste them."

Truthfully I was surprised when they didn't back down. The bigger guy scoffed, his eyes raking the woman up and down with a wicked glint in them. "Y'know, maybe if you ditched him and got fucked by a real man, you wouldn't be such a bitch."

And once again, I was stunned by her ability to quip back quicker than lightening. "Maybe if you weren't such a childish prick, you'd actually get fucked in the first place. Now back. The fuck. Off..."

While I should have been more grateful that her words got them to scoff and turn away, a small, absolutely random part of me wanted to hear her yell at them some more. The longer she did it, the warmer my body got, and the second I started to put together why that was, I chugged more of the beer that was currently resting in my shaky hand.

It was even worse when she turned around to face me again, her radiance and beauty intimidating me in an entirely different way than those men. She wore a simple black dress that complimented her figure extremely well, minimal makeup and jewelry, and her hair was pinned back, showing off her neck and collarbone.

If she hadn't just helped me out, with the way she was looking at me I probably would have wondered if she was... trying to pick me up.

The thought made me all warm again.

"Y—You didn't have to do—"

She stepped forward and sat on my lap again, and I swallowed hard, the beer almost slipping from my hand entirely. "Don't worry about it. You looked uncomfortable, and those boys were absolute meatheads. But they are still here, so we should probably keep up the act, huh?"

I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. Either way, I set the beer on the table, though my hand still kept it firmly in my grip as I looked down at the ring on her finger. "I—I wouldn't want to get you in trouble... with your husband..."

"Oh! Uh, funny story," she laughed, leaning in and running her hands over my shoulders, most likely to keep up the façade. "I'm not actually married. Or engaged. I um... I wear this to deter people from trying to take me home."

I actually laughed a little, though my stomach still flipped at her touch and her proximity. "And that... actually works?"

She laughed with me, bringing her hands up to cradle my face as she tilted her head and looked me over. Her pretty, pillow-y soft lips quirked into a smile before her eyes flitted up to mine. She looked like she was entranced, like she was in a dream, and honestly I felt the same way. Because there was no way in actual Hell this was a real thing that was happening to me, right?

"Not always," she answered in a whisper, her face inching closer to mine. She smelled a little like beer, but mostly some type of fruit, probably pear. I didn't eat pears, but maybe I should start...

A gentle tug at the roots of my hair pulled me out of my thoughts, a soft sigh escaping me at the sensation. The woman laughed, brushing her nose against mine for a moment before pulling away and grabbing her beer. "So, since we're engaged, I feel like I should know a little about you. At the very least, your name?"

"O—oh," I laughed nervously, swallowing as she sipped her beer. And I tried not to let it get to me, but the way her lips wrapped gently around the bottle had my mind going a mile a minute, laser focusing on one image in particular of those perfect lips wrapped around something else. I wondered if she could hear the longing in my voice when I whispered my name. "Spencer."

With the beer still in her hand, she lowered it and rested it on my knee as she smiled. "Mmm, and what's my last name going to be?"

The thought of actually marrying this woman infiltrated my thoughts as I answered, louder this time, "Reid."

See hummed again, using the hand that was currently massaging the back of my scalp to gently tug at my hair again. "Y/N Reid... I like the sound of that."

I do, too, is what I thought, and I almost said it, but she started talking again.

"So, Spencer, what do you do?"

I would have gone into my entire spiel, but she was so pretty, and so close, I didn't want to scare her off. So, I simply stated, "I work for the FBI..."

Her eyebrows raised, and I felt her hand slide down my neck and settle on my shoulder. "Really?"

"Y—Yeah, I'm a profiler. We aid law enforcement in catching serial killers."

"So, Agent Reid, huh? That's hot..."

I should have just left it alone, because it was common knowledge that if a woman has any reason to call you hot, you just let it happen, right?

Well, like I said, when it came to women I was a complete wreck.

"A—Actually it's Doctor... I, um... I have 3 PhDs."

As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them, but the hunger in her eyes deepened and her free hand roamed my shoulder and the front of my chest as she scooted even closer, her mouth coming up right under my jaw. "Mmm, even hotter..."

This time I didn't hold back, my voice audibly whimpering as I sighed out a simple, "Oh..."

Y/N pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck before dragging her lips to my ear again. And I'd been so hyperaware of her proximity to my face that I hadn't even noticed she'd set her beer down and took that hand to rest firmly at my hip, her palm pressing into my lower stomach. I only felt it when that hand moved over, the tips of her fingers hovering just above the buckle of my belt.

"Tell me something, Doctor," she whispered just under my earlobe. I was nothing short of putty in her hands as my brain tried to focus on what she was saying over the more prominent desire to focus on the way she pressed her whole body into mine. She was everywhere, taking up every ounce of air that found its way into my lungs, and I'd never breathed in anything sweeter. "Are you saving yourself for marriage?"

I found the question odd at first, but remembering the circumstances of our fake situation, my body suddenly flared to life at her implications. "N—No..."

Her hips shifted against my lap, and I swear I could have fainted on the spot as she hummed in my ear, "Good."

***

I certainly didn't expect for the night to end the way it did.

I mean, I knew I was going to be wet when I got home, but damn. We hadn't even made it out of the bar before my panties were soaked through at the thought of fucking my fake fiancée. Who worked for the FBI and called himself Doctor...

Not to mention he was fucking dreamy as hell with those honey doe-eyes and pouty lips... And his hands? I had taken one look at the one tightly holding his beer bottle for dear life and instantly went white-hot with desire, visions of them disappearing inside of me swimming in my head.

And then he had to fucking whimper when I called him hot.

Yeah, I definitely didn't expect the night to go how it did, but I wasn't mad about it in the slightest.

After explaining to him that I'd walked, and that my house was only a few blocks away, we decided to just hop in his car. Though, by the time we got there, I think we were both so eager to "get to know each other a little better," as I'd said before we actually left, that we didn't even make it out of the parking space.

Spencer fumbled around with his keys for so long, and he kept dropping them, so I just said fuck it and kissed him when he came up the third time. The sound of his keys hitting the ground for a fourth time excited me almost as much as his the way his hands trembled as they rested on my forearms.

"Pull the seat back?" I mumbled against his mouth, sliding my hands down the sides of his face and over his shoulders.

He let out a strained, "Uh huh," and fumbled around with that too, his urgency and nerves all rolled into one adorable spectacle that had the pit of my stomach in desirable knots. The seat sprung backwards, and I laughed lowly as I climbed over the center console and right into his lap, my dress riding up incredibly high.

The way Spencer looked up at me then, his eyes just as pouty as his lips as they practically sparkled with adoration and need, gave me this feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time— something that filled my bloodstream with fire and made me feel... wanted.

And that's not to say I hadn't slept with people since my divorce, but every time it happened there was hardly any connection besides the obvious need to get off. Here, with Spencer, it was different. And realistically I knew it was most likely the fact that a beautiful woman came to his rescue and pretended to be engaged to him just to get some morons off his back, but... In his eyes I saw this vulnerability that I'd never gotten with another partner. He was open and willing to take advantage of our situation to the fullest extent, sure, but within that was a pure longing to be close to someone after going so long without that connection.

I knew that look so well because it was exactly how I felt. We wanted to have sex with each other, that much was obvious, but less so was the fact that we could feel each others' loneliness. It was a shared bond that ran deeper than sexual desire, and in his eyes in that moment, I knew he could see it in me.

"D—Do you know... what it's like to feel alone, even... when you know you really aren't?" he asked as though he was reading my mind. His voice was soft, so curious and hinted with a little sadness that it made me want to hold him tight and rock him to sleep more than anything.

Still, I nodded. "Mhm... After my husband left I haven't... really been the same. I act like it's okay, and I... I really am better now that he's gone, but I just... I've spent most of my life with him, and now it's like I don't know what's out there beyond... loneliness."

It wasn't the most sexy conversation in the world, but Spencer reached out, his hands less shaky, and ghosted them over my bare arms. He looked up at me with those pretty eyes and let out a relieved breath before he spoke. "I kinda know what you mean... Not to that extent, but... I get it."

Seeing that he was more comfortable with me, I leaned in closer, bringing my fingers to brush the underside of his jaw. "And that's why you make the perfect fiancée."

I felt the laugh leave his lips before I kissed him, soft and steady, and reassured that I was in this for as long as he wanted me to be. Obviously we weren't actually engaged, but the connection that came with a real engagement felt pretty damn close to what we had going on.

And he conveyed that in the way he kissed me back, stronger than he'd been before and most certainly more skilled than he'd let on. His tongue expertly caressed mine with just the right amount of pressure and precision, and it made it easy for me to fall into him. Over time we grew more hungry, but for the most part our dance of mouth and tongue was so slow and intense, it felt like we really had known each other forever.

Eventually though, I did feel him grow harder underneath me, and the feeling kickstarted this more primal urge that caused me to groan into his mouth and rock my hips forward. Spencer's hands rested firmly at my lower back the whole time, though when I moved, I could feel him tense a little, like now that it was actually starting to happen, he was suddenly nervous again. So I brought my hands around my back to grab his wrists, gently sliding them down over my ass as I pressed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip.

"Mmm, your hands are so big," I purred as I kissed my way over his jaw. "They feel so good all over me..." He relaxed a bit at my reassurance, but I wanted to give him more. So I helped him slide his hands underneath my dress, feeling him shiver under me when I assisted him in squeezing them into my skin. "You can touch me however you like," I whispered into his ear. "I'm all yours, Doctor..."

He squeezed my ass then, of his own accord, and I hummed happily before kissing my way back to his mouth, running my hands through his hair.. "Just like that, baby, whatever you want..." He swallowed my words with his tongue, taking a deep breath and inhaling me like I was his only source of air. Respectfully, I gave it all to him, happy to be of service as long as he wanted me— and in that moment, I hoped it would be forever.

Maybe that was cheesy. But he was an excellent kisser... And I was sure there'd be something equally as excellent waiting for me once I got the clearance to get my hands down to his belt.

Thankfully, that clearance came pretty soon. I would have waited as long as he wanted to, but with the way his hips jolted upwards and the needy whine that erupted from his throat at the contact it provided, I knew now was the time.

So I smiled over his lips and then kissed his jaw again, one of my hands staying threaded in his hair while the other snaked down his chest and lower, undoing each button on his shirt as I went down... "Forgive me if I'm feeding into the stereotype by asking you this, Spencer," I said, leaving small bites on his neck in between words. "But have you ever done this before?"

His hands continued kneading my ass as he let out a shaky breath. "N—No. But I've um... I've p—practiced..."

"Hmm, how so?" I wondered, sucking a big hickey into his neck. Meanwhile my hand traced along the waistband of his pants, not quite dipping underneath but teasing the skin just above the material.

"U—Um, well... I regularly t—try to edge... myself, just... I—I want to last longer, and... And I thought it would help..."

God, the images of this man lounging in bed, training himself to last longer in the event that he had sex with someone? I groaned into his neck, taking the initiative to move my hand lower and gently palm him through his pants. "Fuck, that's so hot..."

"Re—really?"

"Mhmm... You really wanna make a girl feel good, huh?"

"Of course..."

"So eager to please?" I cooed, starting to undo his belt. He gripped my ass tighter like he was holding on for dear life, like he'd some how fall out of the car if he didn't hold on to me tight enough. The way his fingers dug into my skin brought me almost the same amount of joy as the sound he made when I finally snuck my hand down the front of his pants and pulled his dick out, gently stroking it and getting a feel for him. "Obedient?"

"Y—Yes, Y/N, please, oh God..." he jumbled out, his hips bucking into my hand. I sighed into his neck, kissing him again as my hand slowly jerked him off.

"Is this how slow you go?" I asked, making sure to memorize how every ridge of him caressed my hand. "Hmm, you wanna draw it out? Feel every ounce of pleasure as you possibly can before you come?"

He didn't answer so much as he let out a loud, whiny breath that sounded very much like a broken, "A-hh."

"I'm clean... On birth control, too... So what do you say we trade this hand in for something a little more... wet..."

Spencer grabbed my underwear then, pulling at the fabric and bucking his hips again. Taking it as a good sign, I adjusted myself so that I could slide them to the side and hover above him. Meanwhile I pecked at his lips and he did the same, meeting me with urgency and anticipation.

And when the head of his dick finally came in contact with my pussy, he threw his head back and exhaled, exposing his neck and the front of his chest, which was lightly glossed over with sweat already. The only source of light in the car came from the neon bar lights and one single streetlight outside, which gave us this dark, aesthetic lighting that only made what we were doing even hotter.

I sank slowly onto him, letting out the longest sigh of my life until he bottomed out in me. "You doin' alright, Doctor?" I asked, pulling his shirt open some more to get a better view of his skin.

He sat his head up a bit and looked at me, breathlessness in his eyes. "F—Fantastic. You f—eel so good..."

I ground my hips in slow circles, nodding down at him with a wicked grin. "Feeling's mutual, babe... You stretch me out so good... It's like we're a perfect match."

The moment I started lifting myself only to sit back down, Spencer shut his eyes, his hands roaming my ass and my thighs as I rode him. It looked like he was concentrating on lasting, and I was going to tell him not to worry about it, but then he opened his eyes and started to speak.

"Will, um... Will you be m—mean to me? Please?"

I halted my movements for a moment, taking in what he just said, but then it came to me immediately. And my discovery turned me on way more than I would have liked to admit.

So I grinned and circled my hips again, leaning forward to practically crawl up the front of his body. My hands tangled in his hair as I studied his face, which was ridden with worry and maybe regret at what he'd just confessed. But I kept circling my hips all the same, clenching myself around him as I spoke against his lips.

"Ohhh, did hearing me insult those guys in the bar turn you on?" I drawled, gently pecking his lips.

"Uh huh," he breathed in response.

I smiled, rocking my hips a little faster and feeling him start to relax again— The worries he had about his desires faded into nothing as I gave into them, feeding them with an open palm and embracing them with great pleasure. "I bet you just couldn't wait for me to take you outside and fuck you after that, huh? For me to treat you like a needy little slut..."

With every word and every quick rock of my hips, Spencer started to pick up his breathing. He leaned back completely and let me take care of him, gave me every green light, every go-ahead... I never got to be like this in bed before, and the fact that it came so naturally sparked this confidence within me that was hard to quell once it got going.

"Is that what you wanted?" I asked him, picking up my pace and bouncing steadily back on his dick. "You were so desperate to get fucked, too, you couldn't even make it out of the parking lot before you gave into me... And now everyone in the bar could see us out here..."

He groaned out at that, his hands digging into the flesh of my thigh, which already burned from straddling him like this, but considering everything, a little burn never hurt anyone.

"Ohh, you like that too, huh? The thought of everyone seeing us?"

"Y—Yes... Y/N, yes... o—oh, fu..."

I took his face into my hands then, grabbing him by the chin and making him look at me. "And what about your friends, huh? What would they think if they showed up and saw their precious Doctor Reid getting fucked like the dirty little slut he is, huh?"

Even though his face was in my hands, he still managed to lean his head back with a loud groan. His hands were now sliding over to my waist, where my dress was bunched up. His nimble fingers slipped just under the fabric and explored the planes of my stomach as I continued riding him, and the feeling of it all coupled with the looks on his face and his reaction—verbal or otherwise—to my words grew the fire simmering in the pit of my stomach.

I wasn't sure how mean to him I could be anymore now, though, considering we were both so close to finishing, and the closer I got the more it became harder to focus on stringing together the perfect words.

Still, I tried the best I could, because it was his first time, and it's what he deserved.

I leaned in and kissed his neck and collarbone, simultaneously riding and grinding for extra stimulation. "You're doing so well, Doctor... Taking this pussy like a good little whore..."

Okay, so it wasn't entirely mean, but it was the best I could come up with on the spot.

Though, it seemed to have done the trick, because Spencer drove his hips up to meet mine, panting and whining out my name as his eyes fluttered open and he looked at me with the most desperate look. I almost fell apart right there.

"That's it, baby, take it," I cooed, leaning over and kissing him. One of his hands came out from under my dress to rub tight circles into my clit with an expert thumb, and it started to break me down immediately. "Ohhh, I'm almost there, honey, just like that... Show me what a good little slut you are, baby, c'mon... Just like... that... Ohhh..."

I kissed him hard as I shook and clenched around him, holding still as he drilled his hips upwards into me. His thumb kept up at my clit until I was whimpering into his mouth, and then he just held it there, a few grunts of his own rumbling in his chest before he stilled and filled me with his warmth. I kissed him through it, gently swallowing all his whines and sighs as he gradually came down from his high.

Immediately after we both settled, with his dick still sheathed inside of me and my hands rubbing gently over the planes of his chest as we slowly and softly made out, the unmistakable sound of raindrops hitting glass covered us on all sides.

I pulled away from Spencer with a small smile, resting my head on his shoulder and looking off to the side, out the window at the sea of cars slowly getting covered up by a multitude of rain droplets. "I hope that was okay," I whispered against his skin, willing myself closer by draping an arm over his shoulder and using my hand to twirl some of his hair around my finger.

"That was more than okay," he responded contently. His chin rested on the top of my head and I snuggled closer into him. "Thank you, Y/N... For... For everything."

"It was my pleasure, Doctor."

We sat in comfortable near-silence for a while then, letting the rain tapping gently over the car be the steady sound that grounded us and washed away everything we had until there was a clean slate.

That was the one bad thing I found about the rain. I loved it, yes, for all its cleansing properties, and as I came into the bar tonight, I looked forward to them— to clearing my head with alcohol and a walk home in the rain.

But as I laid there, breathing in every ounce of Spencer Reid, I watched the rain roll down the windows and actually dreaded the moment it would stop.

"I wish it would rain forever," I sighed wistfully, playing with one of the buttons on Spencer's shirt.

He drew patterns into my leg all the same. "How come?"

"Because... I have to walk home. And the longer it rains, the longer I can stay here with you..."

He chuckled. "That's a nice sentiment, but you know I can drive you home, right?"

"Yeah, but... I really don't want this moment to end."

He was silent then, and for a while I thought maybe he was just going to leave it be. But then his soft voice broke through the rain and cut into me like a piece of glass. "You know you're gonna be okay, right?"

I broke away and looked up at him. "How do you mean?"

He sighed, thinking before continuing. "I mean... I'm guessing it's been rough since your husband left, and... being here with me has given you some companionship and comfort, but... Even after we part ways, you're going to be alright... It's still going to feel lonely, sure, but if there's anything I know for sure after tonight, it's that you're going to get through it just fine."

My heart swelled, though it still broke all the same. "How do you know?"

Spencer smiled, bringing a hand up to gently brush the side of my face. "Because you're my fiancée and I know you better than anyone."

As I laughed at the joke, he looked back at me with sparkles in his eyes. And then minutes later, I was haphazardly cleaning myself up in his passenger seat with a wet-nap that I'd kept tucked away in my wallet while he fumbled around for his keys.

Even as I stood on my porch that night, under the rain as I watched him drive away with the lingering buzz of our final goodbye kiss on my lips, I wondered if I'd ever see him again.

And I wondered if he would ever notice or do anything about the sparkly diamond ring I left behind, sitting beside him in my place— a reminder of our time together, the comfort he provided me with, and the clean slate that always inevitably came with the rain.

***

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PERMANENT TAGLIST: 

@elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @g0lden-cth @emilyprentisslittlewhore @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9 @takeyourleap-of-faith 

[kpop-kitkat]

I Wish, I Wish | Park Sunghoon

pairing | best friend!park sunghoon x f!reader

genre/cw | angst, fluff, explicit language, heated argument, crying, clouded judgement, best friends to lovers, happy ending

wc | 1.7k

notes | I felt a bit rushed when writing this, but I think it turned out okay…? Idk.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Sunghoon smiled to himself as he listened back to his music sample. He never thought he’d be writing a love song about him and his best friend, but here he was.

Sunghoon had been best friends with Y/n since the two were in kindergarten. They knew every little thing about each other. In fact, the only secret Sunghoon was keeping from her was the song he was writing. They did everything together, always teamed up with each other, and never stopped supporting each other. Of course no friendship was perfect, they had their disagreements and such. But they always made up in the end. Everyone wanted a friendship like theirs.

Music filled the room as Sunghoon worked on his song. It was a simple piano song, but there was a lot of meaning behind his lyrics. He wasn’t one for writing songs, so Y/n was really something special if he was going to write a song for her. There was only one thing he was worried about. If the producer liked Sunghoon’s song, he might want him to make his debut as a soloist; that wasn’t a problem. But if the song was published, ENGENE might get suspicious and discover that his song is actually directed towards a certain person.

His beautiful music was interrupted by ringing of his phone. But he smiled when he saw he was getting a call from Y/n. He quickly pressed answer and brought the phone to his ear, quickly pausing his music.

”Hey bestie,” he greeted.

”Hey Hoon. My parents are going to be out of town for the next week, and you know I don’t like staying alone… do you think I could-“

“Stay over here for the week? Of course you can.”

”Really? Thanks.”

”Don’t mention it. Come over whenever, I’ve got nothing going on.”

”Alright. See you then.”

”Buh-bye.”

”Bye.”

He hung up with that smile still on his face. But when realization hit, he quickly cleared the notes off of his desk and quickly transferred his music onto an SD card and put it behind his computer, hopefully somewhere Y/n wouldn’t think to look. I mean, what would she be looking for anyway?

Y/n opened the door to Sunghoon’s house without even knocking. At this point, they never did at each other’s houses. She quickly ran up the stairs to Sunghoon’s room and flung the door open, tossing her things onto his bed.

”Wow, you got here quick,” he chuckled.

”Yep,” she replied, hopping onto his bed beside her things. 

The atmosphere suddenly went quiet as they just stared at each other, not knowing what to do next. They had gotten a little too comfortable around each other to be honest. 

There was tension in the air, and they both knew it. And trying to pretend that last night didn’t happen, was failing horribly. Y/n sighed and looked at the floor.

”Don’t say it,” she threatened.

”I wasn’t going to,” Sunghoon defended. But he didn’t keep his word. “You shouldn’t have gone to that party last night,” he reasoned.

”Hoon, I love you, you’re my best friend. But you’re way too overprotective and controlling over my life. If I want to kiss a guy, I’ll kiss a guy. If I want to get drunk, I’ll get drunk. If I want to-“

”I hear you Y/n,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s not that I don’t want you to be with another- I-I mean, a guy. Fuck, do whatever you want,” he laughed bitterly, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Y/n. “I was just trying to protect you, you need to understand.”

”Well, I don’t! What exactly are you protecting me from?” she stood up with hands on her hips.

”Y/n…”

”No Hoon, I want an answer,” she demanded, letting her emotions consume her. She sighed yet again when she didn’t get an answer out of him. “It’s almost as if… as if you were in love with me,” she said, taking a seat on the floor. 

“I’m not! I’m not!” he immediately protested. 

That’s exactly what she wanted to hear, but at the same time, it wasn’t. It hurt a little hearing your crush didn’t reciprocate your feelings. She only stared at him blankly, having no words coming to mind. She sighed, and closed her eyes.

”Then… then why do you, care so much about my love life?” she wondered, as Sunghoon thought of an answer.

”I don’t care about your love life,” he simply stated.

”You fucking liar!” she yelled, getting pushed over the edge.

“Y/n stop.”

”No!” she replied, looking around for something to threaten to destroy. 

She caught glimpse of a SD card. She quickly snatched it.

”Tell me Park Sunghoon, or this is going in the dirt!” she warned, glancing to the open window which was one story above the backyard which was soaked in the afternoon rain.

”No please!” he begged, not wanting Y/n to destroy the one thing that he had worked so hard on. 

Sunghoon knew he wanted to tell her how he felt at some point, but he thought this was just too soon.

“Tell me!” she demanded, tears pricking her eyes. 

Truth untold, Sunghoon had always been a rather protective best friend. Y/n never expressed her annoyance towards this behavior of his, she was too scared. But up until this point, she had held it in for too long. She needed to know. Did he really love her back? Or was he just being an ass? Did she really make him jealous like she had planned all along?

Sunghoon took too long to answer, resulting in his SD card being tossed out of the window.

”No!” he exclaimed, quickly exiting the room and running down the stairs, Y/n hesitantly trailing behind him.

He panicked as he searched for the SD card in the pouring rain. His hands were all muddied as he frantically tried to find his music.

”No,” he whispered to himself.

Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a twinge of guilt in her heart. Like always, she had managed to let her feelings overcome her mind. That’s one thing she hated about herself.

”What was so important about that card anyway?” she scoffed.

”You don’t understand,” he snapped, trying to ignore her the best he could.

”Exactly! That’s why I’m asking!” 

He sighed heavily before abruptly standing to his feet and turning to face the girl, his anger boiling over, and his fists clenched.

”It’s a love song! Okay?!” he admitted, taking Y/n by surprise. “It’s a love song that I wrote… for you, Y/n.”

She could hardly process his words, only managing to give him a confused look.

”I… I lied. I do care about your love life, very much. And to answer your question, I care about it because, I wish I was apart of it. I wish I was the one you kissed at parties. I wish I was the one who you held hands with in the school halls. I wish… you were mine,” he ranted, barely able to stand on his shaky legs due to his very strong emotions and vulnerability.

Y/n was at a loss for words. Thankfully actions spoke louder. She walked through the cold rain and took his muddy hands in hers, making him look into her eyes. The rain made everything more difficult, but at the same time, so magical. 

“I wish that you would have realized sooner that I feel the same way,” she gave him a sad smile, her throat still hoarse from yelling. 

He chuckled, trying to ease the tension and confusion, causing her to laugh along as well. 

He brought her into a warm hug as they rocked side to side.

”I love you Sunghoon, and I’m sorry for yelling, I just get so emotional,” she apologized, slightly embarrassed.

”Don’t be, I know how you get. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten, haven’t we?” he smiled.

”Do you love me back?” she teased.

”Of course I do Y/n,” he rolled his eyes.

”Say it then.”

”I love you,” he giggled, touching his nose to hers.

Just then, the SD card was seen sitting atop the rose bushes that outlined the house. He grabbed it and held it close to his heart. Then, the terrifying sound of thunder roaring stole their attention.

”Oh shit,” Sunghoon cursed under his breath, quickly grabbing Y/n’s hand and leading her back inside the house.

He made sure to close the screen door and wipe up the mud the two dragged in. He sighed in relief when he realized his mother wasn’t home to scold him for it.

”Hoon,” Y/n called out with a shaky breath. “I’m cold,” she shivered.

”My room,” he tilted his head.

They both quickly ascended the stairs to his room. Once behind the closed door, Sunghoon through a blanket at Y/n, which she accepted gratefully.

”Thanks,” she smiled.

He nodded and then grabbed a towel hanging on his bathroom door to dry off the SD card. Afterwards, he plugged it into his computer to see if it still worked. He played the song for about two seconds, and confirmed that it worked. He would’ve played the entire song, but he wanted to surprise Y/n with it when it was finalized.

”Hoon,” Y/n pouted.

”Mmm?” he bummed in response.

”I’m still cold.”

He shook his head and smiled before going over to her and hugging her.

”Better?”

”Still cold.”

He decided to lay down on his bed, and pull her close to him, so that she was laying on his chest. 

“Now?”

”Still cold.”

Sunghoon suddenly realized what she was getting at when she kept glancing to his lips. He smirked snuggled up against her cheek, wondering when would be the right time. 

He was done wondering when he had this newfound confidence. He sat up just enough to hover over her and stare into her eyes. He slowly inched towards her face and lightly grazed his lips against hers, before fully capturing her mouth in his. Y/n’s hands were quick to get tangled in his soft, dark hair. He noticed how cold she really was, so he exchanged his saliva with hers, sharing his body heat. 

As he finally pulled away, he looked deep into her sparkling eyes. He had never seen them so close up before.

He smiled before laying on top of her, which she didn’t mind.

”Wow I thought today would go in a totally different direction,” Y/n chuckled.

”Me too Love. Me too.”

[forever-rogue]

Worship

Summary | Sex with Bucky comes in a variety of flavors, but sometimes it's all about the connection and intimacy.

Pairing | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.6k

Warnings | language, smut - oral (f receiving), piv, body worship - 18+ only, minors DNI

Masterlists | Bucky, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey Sugar,” Bucky’s voice was low and raspy as soon as he walked in through the door and dropped his bag onto the floor. He spotted you on the couch, working on something on your laptop as you had something mindless playing in the background. Bucky felt lighter than he had in days as you gave him the sweetest smile before slamming your laptop shut, tossing it to the side, and running over to him.

“Bub!” you threw your arms around his neck before jumping in his arms. Bucky picked you up with almost no effort and spun you around as you buried your face into his neck. He slowly set you down before grinning at you and cradling your face in his hands and pulling you in for a slow, gentle kiss, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he whispered as his hands found your waist and he just watched you, grounding himself in your presence. you reached up and put your hand on his face, swiping your thumb over his cheek as you studied him. His ocean eyes softened as he was once again reminded of how much he loved you, “nothing’s better than getting to come home to you.”

“What about coming home to me and fresh baked chocolate chip cookies?” you raised an eyebrow as he immediately turned to go and look into the kitchen. He spied the foil covered plate as you just laughed at him, “welcome home, James. I love you.”

“I love you,” he whispered as he stole another saccharine kiss from your lips, “you are so beautiful.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Sarge,” you playfully swatted his chest, feeling a flush of warmth well up in your cheeks, “don’t look at me like that, James.”

“Let me make love to you,” he asked as he ran a hand down your spine, letting it rest just above the curve of your bum, “let me show you how much I love you.”

“James,” his name got caught in your throat as you just nodded before looking at him with wide, innocent eyes, “please.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Bucky crashed his lips onto yours, soft and gentle, but still hungry and needy at the same time. He cradled the back of your head as he held you close to him, his lips never leaving yours as you both grew breathless. Once you were dizzied from his touch, practically drunk from his taste, he rested his forehead against yours before scooping you up in his arms and carrying you towards the bedroom. 

He opened the door slowly and laid you gently on the big bed, on top of the soft duvet. You sighed wistfully as you laid against the soft pillows and watched him closely. He had literally just gotten home and he was already thinking of you and only you. What a man.

Tugging at the hem of his tight black t-shirt, Bucky quickly pulled it off and tossed it to the side, allowing you to freely stare at him. You bit your lip to hold back any sounds as you watched him repeat the process with his jeans, leaving him in only his tight boxer-briefs. How was anyone allowed to be this handsome? 

“I know what you’re thinking, sugar,” he whispered softly as you stuck your tongue out at him, “but tonight is about you. Let me love you.”

Before you could respond, he sat at the foot of the bed, next to your still clothed body. A large hand rested on your calf, as stroked his thumb over the soft fabric of your pajama pants. His eyes never left yours as he leaned over and pressed soft kisses to your leg. It was just such a small, but intimate gesture that caused a shiver to run up your spine. 

“James,” you swallowed the lump in your throat as he watched you like you had hung the moon and stars. He’d looked at you that same way from the day he’d met you until now. This man was whipped for you.

“I like these,” he pulled at the drawstring of your silly little cartoon Star Wars pants as your breath hitched in your throat, “but I think they’d look even better off. May I?”

“Yes,” you lifted your bum ever so slightly to assist him in pulling them off. His touch was gentle and feather-light as he tugged the pants off your legs and tossed them onto the floor along with his clothes. The situation was almost laughable; he’d come home while you were in silly pajama bottoms, old granny panties, and maybe the rattiest t-shirt you had but he was still looking at you as though you were the personification of beauty itself. 

“You’re thinking much too loudly,” he whispered as a hand rested on your hip, rubbing gentle circles on your soft skin, “despite what you’re thinking and no matter what you’re wearing, you are still the most beautiful thing in this world. “

He played with the waistband of your panties, eyes seeking yours for permission to pull them down, which you easily granted. They quickly joined the growing pile as you watched him with a sweet smile. Bucky pushed your legs apart lightly, settling in between them as he ran his hands, one soft and warm and one cool and firm up and down your skin. He was taking you in, reminding himself of how soft and gentle you were, how opposite of him. You were so soft, and delicate, essentially at his mercy but you trusted him completely - loved him. It was still something that shocked him to no end. 

Slowly bending over, he trailed a line of kisses up your legs, alternating between left and right before stopping just before reaching the apex of our thighs. He grinned at you before pressing a kiss to your hips and pushing up your t-shirt. You could help the small giggle that escaped your lips as he wiggled his eyebrows at you before you leaned up and let him peel the shirt from your frame. Bucky pulled you towards his face and slowly kissed you, a deep, passionate thing as he licked your lips to gain access to your mouth. You moaned into his mouth as you gave him access and let him take control. Like most things, Bucky did everything thoroughly and kissing you was no exception. 

Even after all the time you had been together, it was enough to make your toes curl and butterflies erupt in your stomach as you memorized every touch, taste, and feel. It was like you were still falling in love with him all over again every single day. 

“James,” his name was like a sacred whisper flowing from your lips as you laid back down and let him loom over you. He lifted his vibranium hand, hesitating for just a moment before you nodded lightly, taking his hand and placing it on your cheek. Bucky’s heart felt like it was fit to burst with the trust you put in him; you’d never once hesitated or showed any signs of fear when it came to black and gold metal arm. You’d loved on it and him, many times before, reminding him that it was nothing to be ashamed or scared of, it was just a part of him. 

“Look at you,” he whispered as stroked your cheek as you just keened into his touch, “my girl. You are all the best parts of me.”

“And you are my everything,” you pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand before sighing contentedly. He leaned down and kissed your lips before slowly moving to your jaw and down your neck before stopping at your collarbones. He nuzzled his nose against your skin, inhaling your warm scent before you felt him smile. He swiped his nose against your pulse point before lightly nipping at tender skin and pressing kisses to both of your shoulders, “such a tease!”

“No,” he promised, “I’m just taking my sweet time with you, sugar.”

“Mhmm,” you bit back a delicate moan as his mouth found your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple as you arched into his touch. His other hand massaged your other breast as you reached for his free hand, lacing your fingers together. Bucky took his sweet time, lavishing attention to both breasts, leaving you breathless and aching for his touch between your legs. 

Bucky made sure to leave plenty of gentle love-bites across your skin that would color you in constellations of purples and pinks for days. Everyone would know you were his, and you would probably display them as you normally did. 

He lifted your arm and trailed his lips from your wrist to your shoulder, mapping out each little mark, freckle, and scar with love from his lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as you let his touch overwhelm your senses and drown you in love. It was quiet, with the only sounds being the soft evening breeze rustling the curtains and the sound of your soft moans followed by his lips mapping out your skin. 

His soft touch stopped at your shoulder before he proceeded the same on your other arm. There was something so gentle and intimate about this; the silence but sweetness of him loving on every part of you. Sex with Bucky was always good, in whatever flavor it came in. Some days it was rough and needy, fast and hard, and some days it was gentle and sweet. But there were the days when it was just so slow and loving - it wasn’t about the end result or finishing at all even, it was all about the love and affection you held for one another. There was nothing but the need to be together, holding each other closely. Some days that was enough more than enough. There were a lot of things in the world that left you confused and doubtful, but the one thing you never doubted was Bucky’s love or devotion to you. 

“I love you,” he trailed his soft, plush lips across your collarbones before stopping at the hollow of your throat, “my sweetest girl. Light of my life.”

“Silly man,” you giggled as you pulled him up for a kiss to your lips, carding a hand through his dark locks as you lightly scratched at his scalp, “I love you more than life itself.”

“I know that despite all the horrible things I was forced to do, I did something right,” he brushed the hair away from your face and smiled at you, “I did something right - I got you.”

Your mouth opened slightly as you looked at him in pure awe. Even after all this time, this man still made you feel like nothing else in this world mattered besides you. Before you could even attempt to rebut his declaration, he gently straddled your waist as he sat back and admired you.

His eyes were dark with list, but not of the animalistic kind, but the yearning, gentle kind. He was surprisingly light for a man of his size and stature and his touch feather light as he ghosted his fingers over your body.

"Beautiful," he whispered more to himself than anything else as he lavished your ribs and tummy with more love. You swore that his plush lips grazed over every inch of your skin. It was the best feeling you could ever imagine and you wished you could spend an eternity like this, “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

“And what about you?” you replied softly as you touched his cheek, “my love.”

His large hands gripped your hips before he sat back on his haunches and looked at you for permission to continue. You gave him a soft nod before he slotted himself between your thighs as he tenderly massaged your soft flesh. Slowly bringing his warm hand between your legs, he dragged a finger through your already soaked folds, listening to the way your breathing changed with each little touch. Bucky was being slow and deliberate with each movement, wanting to make this feel as good as possible for you. 

His deft finger circled your sensitive bud, encouraging you to let our moans be heard, to never hold back how you were feeling with him. Once you had slowly started to move your hips in time with his ministrations, he slipped a finger inside your entrance, causing you to gasp lightly in surprise. Bucky beamed at how responsive you were to his touch, whispering soft praise against your chest as he leaned down to kiss you. Only when he was sure you were ready did he add another finger in, curling them both perfectly to just hit your spot. You were biting down on your lip to keep from crying out at the feeling but he just nuzzled his nose against your neck, “c’mon baby, let me hear you. Want to hear all your pretty little sounds.”

You let go as he kissed along your neck, leaving soft little hickies for the world to see. He adored you; the way your mouth fell open in a small little o and your eyes were half lidded as you looked back at him. You were so fucked out and he’s barely touched you.

“Can I taste you?” he asked as he slowly pulled his hand away from your cunt, leaving you to whimper at the loss of feeling his fingers. He reached for your hand with his vibranium one and entwined your fingers together, bringing them to rest above his heart so you feel its steady rhythm. He let it rest there for a few moments as you let the strong beat ground you in reality before he pressed a small kiss to each finger. You watched him in awe as he settled himself between your legs, and you could already feel his warm breath fanning over your dripping cunt.

He wasted no time in diving in, licking a stripe up your wet folds and lapping up all of your juices. His hands had slipped under your backside and were delicately massaging your bum as he ate you like a man starving. The man was talented with his fingers but with just his mouth, he was able to perform pure magic. He alternated between liking and sucking at your sensitive clit, making you card a hand through his dark hair as you moaned his name. You could feel smirking against you as his tongue dived into your entrance, causing your eyes to almost roll back in your head. 

You reached down and pressed his face against you, wanting to feel all of him at once as the tight coil in your belly continued to grow and grow. He stopped for a moment, resting his head on your thigh as he watched you with soft lidded eyes. You looked so beautiful as you slowly came undone. You opened your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him before the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. You’d known, for a long time really, that what you had with Bucky was real and true when you’d have moments of silliness during such intimate moments. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he breathed softly before trailing wet kisses to the inside of your thigh and on your mound. You made a small sound of content as he ghosted his mouth over your cunt, offering you a few more wet, sloppy kisses to where you needed him most. 

“And you’re so good at that,” you put your hand on the back of his neck as you pulled up towards your face. His lips and stubble were glistening with your slick, the sweet nectar that he could never seem to get enough of. You pulled him down and offered him sloppy, needy kisses of your own, savoring the taste of yourself on his tongue, “I want to feel you, James. Want you to come with me.”

“You sure?”

“Mhmm,” you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled down to your aching cunt, grinding your hips against his hardness. He groaned, the sound seeping deep into your soul at the friction his body was craving, “want you to feel good too, baby.”

“Always thinkin’ of me,” he hastily reached down and discarded his boxers, leaving you both finally naked and grinning at each other.

“Of course,” reaching between your warm bodies, you pumped his hard, weeping cock a few times before lining him up at your entrance, “I happen to love you, silly man.”

“I love you,” he whispered as he pushed all the way in, stopping only when he bottomed out. It took a moment to get used to the familiar stretch before you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down against your body. A small whimper left your lips as he started to move slowly, neither of you in a hurry to finish. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he whispered gentle words against your skin, words meant more for himself than anything else as he felt your walls start to clamp tighter around him with each roll of his hips. You met him move for move as you let him make love to you.

“James,” you whispered softly in his ear as you turned his face towards yours as you kissed him deeply. You felt his cock twitch as you just grinned at him between kisses. You would have done anything to see that smile; it was beautiful and his eyes were soft as he watched you closely, “let go for me, baby. You’ve been so good to me - come on.”

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” his movements started to stutter slightly as his own bliss started to wash over him. The lazy little half smile on your face was enough to make his heart stutter; he was so in love with you, just as you were with him, “you comin’ with me?”

“Always,” you promised softly as your whole body warmed up and you left your release wash over you. Your velvet walls hugged him so tightly that he couldn’t help but come as well, spilling inside you as he moaned into your mouth, “James.”

His hips moved slowly against yours as he worked you both through your orgasms, wanting to relish in the feel of you for as long as he could. He wanted every inch of your skin touching his skin; to him there was almost no better feeling. 

Once he tried to move off of you, you shook your head and made a small nuh uh sound and snaked your arms around his middle, holding him tightly against your body. You both laughed as he kissed your cheek before effortlessly rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him so he couldn’t crush you. Laying down on top of him, resting your head on his chest as you played absentmindedly with the dog tags he always wore, bringing the cool metal to your lips and kissing them. His heart fluttered at the small, but intimate gesture. 

“You’re going to have to move, sugar,” he whispered as you pouted at him, “lemme clean you up and then I’m all yours.”

“Hurry,” you teased as he slowly pulled out of you, causing you to whine at the loss of him. He quickly came back with a warm washcloth and cleaned the mess between your legs and his before quickly getting back into bed.

“Always take such good care of me,” you threw the blanket over him as you curled up around him, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to worry about that,” he promised softly as you peppered feather-light kisses of your own against his chest, finding each little freckle and showing it affection. He grinned at your actions before you straddled his waist and looked down at him. You were like heaven above him, looking down and casting him in your light, “you must be an angel.”

“And you must be a fool.”

“A fool for you,” you threw your head back in laughter at his little joke as his hands found purchase on your waist.

“James - Bucky,” you laid back on top of him, making it so you could hear his heart beating in your ear. You took his hand, placing your palm against his as you look at the difference in size before slotting your fingers through his. You studied the black and gold vibranium of his arm before ghosting your lips over where flesh met metal. You knew that some days it still caused him pause when he looked at himself, but you’d never once hesitated to touch him or showed any fear towards him, “you are my everything. I love you more than all the moon and stars and then some more.”

“I love you too, sugar,” he wasn’t sure if he’d ever left more calm or relaxed than in that moment. His whole world was right there, on top of him, in his arms. He couldn’t have asked for anything better, “rest now. The world can wait.”

“Promise me something?” 

“Anything.”

“We’ll always have each other - this?”

“Always.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 4

Chapter 1     Chapter 3

“We have a problem,” Tim grumbled as he stumbled into the dining room.  He threw the morning newspaper down on the table, letting it slide the last few feet until it stopped millimeters short of Bruce’s coffee.

Bruce sputtered his eggs and grabbed the paper, staring at the picture of him speaking with Marinette and Adrien that took up the entire front page above the fold.  He threw the paper back on the table.  “Son of a b…”

“We’ve been getting calls from PR all morning,” Tim interrupted him before Alfred got upset with Bruce for his language. “Because they’ve been getting calls from every newspaper, news station, blog, and interested citizen in the world, calling to ask them about it.”  

Tim poured himself a large cup of coffee, larger than usual.  He’d had patrol last night and gotten woken up at the crack of dawn this morning with calls about the story. So he was running on all of three hours of sleep and just wanted to crawl back into bed, but with this story, there was no chance of him getting to bed until after tonight’s patrol had already left.

It didn’t help that he was beating himself up for not picking up on the cues she was giving that night.  He’d run into her.  He and Stephanie had talked to her.  He saw her freeze up when she realized who he was.  He knew she was acting off, he just hadn’t thought it was nefarious.  If anything, it seemed hurt, not scared.  He should have caught onto her body language. He should have noticed how she seemed to freeze when he mentioned the family.  She must have thought he was fishing, letting her know he was onto her and her plan to do this.  

“You’d think after all the false alarms they’ve reported in the past that they’d know better by now.  Not every black haired, blue eyed child is a Wayne.  I’ve had PR draft up a statement that while we appreciate her support for the orphans, she is not, in fact, a Wayne,” he finished, taking a bite of his muffin, missing Bruce’s grimace.

Damian grabbed the paper, wrinkling it in his clenched fists as he scanned the text.  “She must have orchestrated the whole thing to put this out.  How else would they know these details?”

“No,” Dick commented thoughtfully, prying the paper away from Damian to take a look at the picture.  “If she was in on it she would have put on a better act.  Look at the image.  She isn’t playing into it.  She looks scared, not excited to ‘introduce her fiancé to her family’.” Dick quoted. He briefly scanned the paper for more information.

All the evidence appeared to be the picture, her physical features, and some call logs to her parent’s business.  Dick scrunched up his face with concern.  While not damning, it was interesting.  He didn’t know any reason Bruce would have to contact a bakery in Paris.  “Not to mention the story would have gone out yesterday for a bigger circulation boost. Sundays are the big press days. They wouldn’t have waited until Monday. That suggests they researched, or rather stole the information.  And no quotes from her in here.”

“Fine,” Damian growled, acquiescing to his logic. “Maybe she did it after the fact. She saw the opportunity and took it.”

“No,” Bruce admitted quietly.  “She wouldn’t have had to do that.”  The room seemed to become still as everyone turned to face him.  “If she wanted this story to go out she could have put it out at any time.  And she would have played up the dance, would have sought me out at the gala.  But she didn’t.”

“What dance?” Duke asked cautiously, his focus entirely on Bruce now.

“I asked her to dance.  She said no.  Ran away as quickly as she could actually,” Bruce chuckled self-deprecatingly as he stared at the paper in Dick’s hands.

Damian blinked at him as though the longer he stared the clearer what was happening would become.  But no matter how hard he stared, the image didn’t become clearer. If anything, things became hazier. “This could all be a clever ruse. She wants to appear innocent so when you confront her she can point out that she didn’t do those things.  It says she’s an aspiring designer.  This could all be for publicity.”

“She wouldn’t have to go through all that,” Bruce stated again, more finality in his voice.  He finally looked up, but still didn’t make eye contact with any of them.

Dick stared at Bruce, taking in his response, letting the words and their broader meaning sink in.  The words he wasn’t saying hung in the room like thick smoke, winding their way into everything they touched, stealing the air out of the room.  “What are you saying Bruce?” Dick asked cautiously

“The story’s true, isn’t it,” Tim observed.  It was a statement more than a question.  

Bruce nodded with a sigh.  “Except for the meeting her fiancé part.”

Tim knew it was true even before Bruce’s verbal acknowledgement.  The pieces suddenly fit together.  It was the only thing that made sense.  That’s why her reactions were off.  That matched.   He saw her face when they told her the gala was to celebrate family.  He saw her body language change sharply when Stephanie joked about Bruce taking in everyone he saw.  He wasn’t sure what to make of it at the time and didn’t really even try because it didn’t seem relevant and they had more important issues to think about, namely celebrating Duke.  After the story, he thought the reactions were a tell.  But now… now that he knew, they were a tell, but for something else entirely.

She was trying to be polite about it, not letting on how hard it was hitting.  And oh God, didn’t that make it worse.  Everything they said had been cordial, joking at Bruce’s expense, at their own expense. But with the new knowledge… it was at hers.  They weren’t jokes, they were digs.  They were attacks.  They were him putting her ‘in her place’; out of the family.  Tim took in a shuttering breath and collapsed on the couch, his head in his hands.

He would have so much to apologize for.  He would have to find her and make sure she knew he didn’t mean his words the way they must have come across.  He knew how it felt to not be accepted.  He knew how it felt to not feel loved by your parents. He knew how it felt to have your place in the family questioned constantly, to be attacked, to be unwelcome. He wouldn’t wish that on enemies, let alone family.

“Who is she, Father?” Damian demanded.

Bruce met his eyes, guilt swimming in his own.  “She’s your half-sister.  Her mother and step-father have been raising her in Paris,” Bruce answered calmly.

Damian fought the gasp his lungs demanded against his will.  His father was confirming it.  He was acknowledging her.  But never trusted them with the information.  “Were you ever going to tell us?” Damian finally asked with forced coolness

“I was letting the dust settle on introducing Duke before I broached it,” Bruce hedged.

“So you just found out,” Damian asked angrily.  That would make sense.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, him.  It was that he didn’t know until recently.  Of course that was what happened.

“No.”

Damian gaped at him, his hastily built protective construct shattering with one word.  “How long have you known?”

“Since she was born.”  Damian gaped at him.  He’d known. He’d known since before Damian came to live with them and still never told them.  He didn’t trust him.  Even after all he’d done, he still didn’t trust him.  And now he was letting this unknown, this daughter, even just thinking the word made him wrinkle his nose in disgust, do whatever she wanted.  He trusted her but not him.

“You have a daughter, a biological daughter you’ve known about for decades and that you never told us about,” Dick asked again in a daze.  He fell into a chair staring at Bruce incredulously.  There was no way.  He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.  He loved kids.  He loved his kids.  Why would he send one away?  He hadn’t even wanted to do that to Jason.

“So I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know?” Duke asked. He looked around, taking in the stunned, disbelieving, hurt expressions.

“Not just you,” Damian gritted out.  

Duke sucked in a breath and pulled out his phone, texting Jason and Cass to let them know what was happening.  They were going to want to know as soon as possible too. All of them were going to have questions and issues with this information.  And if the conversation went on much longer, they may want to be involved.

“Why was she there last night?  What did she want?  Surely she wouldn’t have come without a plan,” Damian pressed.  Nobody had access to the kind of power and money they had and just walked away.  If she was presenting herself and not to them, to the press, there must be a reason, a plot.  They needed to find out more about her to figure it out.  “How did she get a ticket in the first place?”  That might be a place to start.  It would give an insight into her accomplices and they could be pressed later for more information.

Bruce sighed and looked back down at his food, pushing the plate away, no longer hungry in the slightest.  “I can’t answer how she got her ticket.  As to why she was there, she was there to talk about a position for a friend of hers… with Lucius apparently, not me.”

“She was using her name to get her subpar friend a job,” Damian spat in disgust.  There had to be more though.  With their name, she could get much, much more.  This had to be an opening gambit.  The job must be placing an operative, loyal to her, within their institution.  Next was the stunt with the press.  They needed to figure out her next steps.

“No,” Bruce insisted.  “She didn’t mention her association.  He doesn’t know… well, he does now.  He spoke to me after the gala, said he discovered one of our managers is stealing ideas and there was someone he was going to spend the weekend researching but he was excited about hiring him.  Luthor is trying to hire him, so if we don’t act fast we’ll lose him.  I’m betting that was her friend.”

“You don’t know that,” Damian growled out.  “That could be a coincidence.”

“I’ll confirm with Lucius today, but it fits with what I know,” Bruce insisted calmly.  “From what her mother has told me over the years, it’s the kind of thing she would do; go well out of her way to help a friend.  And her mother let me know she was planning on attending the gala to talk about hiring her friend.  I just thought she was going to talk to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell us,” Dick asked breathlessly. He was staring at Bruce with hurt saturating his eyes.  He heard nothing after Bruce admitting he’d known about her and never told them.  He was aware Bruce had been saying things for the last few minutes but none of it had registered.  None of it was what he needed to know.  

Bruce sighed and ran his hand over his face.  “Nobody knew.  Nobody but me and her mother and step-father.  It was easier that way.”  Easier to pretend was left unsaid.  Easier for Bruce to pretend like he hadn’t cut her out of his life, like he didn’t regret it every day.  Easier for Bruce to try to forget.

“Not even her?” Duke asked.

“Not even her,” Bruce confirmed with a sigh.  He ran his hand over his face.

“Why?”  Dick was staring at him in wide eyed confusion.  It didn’t make sense.  None of it made sense.  He’d been with Bruce for twenty years and never heard a whisper of a biological daughter. But she existed.  And he knew.  Bruce took a deep breath and Dick scowled.  “I swear to God, B, if you say some dumbass excuse like to protect her…”

“She has a happy life.  Her mother and step-father love her beyond words.  They support her, love her, encourage her.  They’re there for her whenever she needs it.  They never miss an event.  Family dinners every night.  She has friends… a good life.  She’s safe.  She never had to worry about defending herself.  She never had to be taught what to do when she got kidnapped.  Never had to… doesn’t remember seeing the people around her dead from the latest rogue attack.  Not like what she would have here…” he again left the last part of the sentence off. The “with me” was left for everyone to fill in on their own.

“You’re a good father,” Tim assured him weakly, because at this point, with this information…

“I hope so.”  Bruce gave him a weak smile.  “But when she was born…  I had an obligation.  I had a responsibility.”

“She was your responsibility!” Dick yelled, his face suddenly contorting in anger and frustration with Bruce.

Bruce looked away stoically, face suddenly a mask devoid of emotion.  “She had a better option and I made sure she got it.”

The room was silent for a few moments while his words settled in.  The only sound was Dick seething in his seat.  “But she doesn’t know you?  You never visited.  You never interacted with her.  Even not telling her who you were to her,” Tim clarified.

Bruce shook his head.  “I visited her final project for her degree a few weeks ago under the guise of research for the fabric project.  She’s a designer.  I was hoping to get her in on the fabric project.  I thought it would be a good cover to get her comfortable with the family. But I didn’t talk with her while I was there.”  He chuckled slightly at the memory.  “I couldn’t even get close.  There were too many people talking to her, congratulating her, offering her internships. Her work was beautiful.”

“But you’ve talked with her parents,” Tim checked.

He sighed and waved his hand helplessly.  “I spoke with Sabine every so often to check on Marinette, make sure she was okay.  I helped pay for her schooling, but even that was disguised as an investment into her parents’ company.”

“So her parents were having you pay for their company, holding the secret over your head,” Damian spat out.

“No!” Bruce growled.  He knew Damian was having a hard time with this.  Hell, that’s one of the main reasons he waited so long, because he knew Damian wouldn’t react well.  Damian would have taken it as an attack on his position in the family.  And after the way he treated Tim and Dick when he first found out about them… They could protect themselves against his attacks. She wouldn’t have been able to. He didn’t know how far Damian would actually go and he didn’t want Damian to have to find out either.  He had been waiting until Damian was more settled, more secure in the family and their unconditional love for him before he reached out to her.  But he wasn’t going to let him disparage Sabine and Tom.  They’d been nothing but understanding.

“They only let me put in the amount for tuition. They wouldn’t allow me to give any more than that and Marinette got a scholarship for her university so she didn’t need any assistance.  I tried to keep giving them money for her to at least have spending money but they refused. They stopped accepting the transfers. They only relented when I said it would look suspicious.  So they’ve been creating a trust for her with it.”

Damian grumbled and looked away.  Whatever their game was, they were certainly good at it.

Bruce dropped his head into his hands.  “Nobody was supposed to know about her until I was sure it was safe,” Bruce grumbled into his hands.  “Until I’d had a chance to talk to everyone about it.”

“Well now everyone knows, so maybe now is a good time to start trying to make that connection,” Dick growled.

“If she’ll let us,” Tim added.  He remembered the look in her eyes when he talked about his… their family.  

“It’s never too late to start trying to bond,” Dick insisted.  His eyes were bordering on wild.  They could bring this back, right?  The family had come back from worse.  They’d faced steeper hills.  Hell, Damian tried to kill them when he first came.  Jason had also tried to kill them all more than once when he came back. She couldn’t be that bad.  They just had to make the first move.  “We just have to let her know we want to.”

Tim shook his head and looked down, not at all convinced it really was as easy as that.  Tim was awkward on a good day.  He could make friends but usually they made the first move.  He was pretty certain she wouldn’t make the first move in this instance.  Damian wouldn’t accept her, period.  Dick would crowd her.  Jason would… whatever Jason did, probably disappear.  She wasn’t a Robin so he probably wouldn’t try to kill her.  Cass would try, but her success depended on Marinette understanding what Cass wasn’t saying.  And Bruce… Bruce was never good at understanding emotions or sympathizing. Honestly, their best hope was Duke.

Duke breathed out a deep sigh and looked away. This family was not easy to get along with or find your place with.  And bonding with each other?  He managed because he fought next to them.  They bonded in the field, in their suits.  He wasn’t sure if they realized that about themselves.  If they interacted outside the suits it was because of the bond they formed inside them.  She wouldn’t have that opportunity and without it…  The prognosis was not good.

“What are you going to do, B?” Tim asked tentatively. “Because whatever your plans were, now she knows and she’s dealing with it on her own.  She… You need to talk to her.”

Bruce sucked in a breath and massaged his temples.  “I know.”  

“And you need to apologize,” Dick added firmly.

Bruce nodded.  “I know.”

“No, you don’t,” Dick growled.  “You have no idea what has to be going through her head right now.”  He grabbed his bag and stalked out of the manor, slamming the door as he left.

“And you need to decide what we’re going to tell the public,” Tim added.  “We need to put a statement out soon.”

“I know,” Bruce agreed.  His voice this time was more detached.  That was something he would have to decide, but that wasn’t the priority right now and not something he wanted to do without her input.  

He needed to come up with a new plan and quickly. This was nothing like the one he had come up with.  He was supposed to have more time.  He was supposed to be able to ease into this.  He was supposed to be able to feel things out before deciding a path.  He was supposed to control the environment and how his family found out.  

But now he was thrown into it, they all were, and he had no idea how to proceed.  He didn’t know her well enough to anticipate how she would react to the situation or to him. He didn’t know her well enough yet to know the best way to approach her.  He needed to come up with a game plan.  He sighed heavily.  He had to get into the office, not show anything out of the ordinary.  And once he was behind his office door, he could talk to Sabine.  She would know what to do.

Chapter 5

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver

[pies-writes-and-more]

infatuation

word count: 1,779

pairing: Bokuto Kōtarō x Fem!Reader

warnings: maybe some swearing, a sad boi Bokuto but just for a bit promise haha also i haven’t fully proofread this so im sorry if it makes: no sense LOL 

a/n: i am falling more and more in love with this adorable himbo just look at him lol. This fic idea is honestly all thanks to @satan-ruler-of-hells​ because they are practically my muse in life so thank you satan ilysm <3 i hope you guys like it! Gif below is not mine - credits to the original creator!

haikyuu masterlist

Bokuto knew from the very second he laid eyes on you that he would love you with every cell in his body. He finally understood what it meant to be infatuated with someone (Akaashi had told him just the other week about the English and Japanese words for infatuation and almost immediately, Bokuto knew that that was how he felt about you). He looked at you and felt like his whole life had led up to this moment.

He spent weeks trying to get on your good side, though you just laughed a little at him and awkwardly slid away. But just like most people, you couldn’t avoid his happy-go-lucky attitude forever. He always seemed to leave you alone if you truly wanted him to, but he bounced around you like a golden retriever, grinning from ear to ear. You knew that Bokuto had quite the reputation to go 110% for anything he wanted to, and so you weren’t that surprised when a bouquet showed up at your desk before school after weeks of him flirting with you.

The volleyball captain stood awkwardly in the doorframe of your classroom as you stared at the flowers, a glow to your skin as you gently touched the petals. You liked him - you liked how honest he was about his feelings, how unafraid he was to show you, you liked that he talked so highly about his team members, that he even told you about some kids at another school that he had mentored for a bit. You really liked him, even if maybe you weren’t as enthusiastic in your actions. You turned to look at him, a smile on your lips making him sigh from relief. He shot you a wink and started to come into the class before Akaashi dragged him away, saying he also had class to attend to. 

When Bokuto finally asked you out, confessing to you with a grin on his face, “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but I really like you, Y/N-”

“Bokuto, you left presents for me every day this week and you’ve been screaming it across campus that you like me,” you pointed out with a laugh. “I think I noticed.”

Bokuto’s jaw had dropped but he still managed to pull off that wide grin of his, “Oh! Good! So you got my signals! Would you like to go out with me then? We can go anywhere you like!”

How could you say no to that adorable sweet smile?

Everyone was well aware that Bokuto was infatuated with you, he looked for you at each of his games, spun you around in tight hugs every time he saw you acting like it had been forever since he had last seen you, and you were the second most thought about topic on Bokuto’s mind (besides volleyball, of course).

He talked about you non-stop, sometimes enough to get on the Coach’s nerves and earn himself a few extra laps. 

“-and then after practice today I’m going to go study with her because I’ve got that math testing coming up and she said that she would help me and-”

“Bokuto, you come off real strong ya know that?” Konoha chuckled, shaking his head slowly as he picked up another ball to practice serving with.

Bokuto tilted his head slightly, trying to decipher what his teammate meant, “Strong? What do you mean?”

Konoha just glanced at the team and smiled a little awkwardly, “I mean... don’t you ever think what you’re doing is a lot?”

The captain considered these words for a moment, a furrow in his brow the more he concentrated, “But... how is she going to know how much I like her if I don’t show her?”

“Just be glad she isn’t feeling suffocated by all your over-the-top acts of love,” Akaashi piped in, though almost immediately regretted it. His eyes glanced over at Bokuto, seeing the quick droop in his hair and expression.

“Suffocated?” Boktuo repeated with wide sad eyes. Could it be possible that you didn’t actually want him to do all the things he was doing? Could you actually hate everything he was doing and wish he would be different?

Akaashi tried to insist to his best friend that you obviously liked his actions enough to go out with him so he probably didn’t have anything to worry about, but it all fell on deaf ears. But the next morning, Bokuto decided that if it meant keeping you next to him, he would change how he was.

The next day, you were surprised to find no Bokuto standing at your locker with a smile and an eager story about something that happened at practice. You hung around just for a few minutes longer, wondering if he got held up somewhere, but eventually just shrugged it off, assuming he and Akaashi were busy.

But even throughout morning classes, you didn’t get any text messages, no memes being sent through any social media platforms, no snapchats of his bored expression when he was clearly supposed to be learning.

Was... something wrong? You thought back to the last time you saw him, just before yesterday’s practice, when he had covered your face with kisses like he always did and beamed when you told him you’d see him tomorrow. “I can walk you home if you’d like!” He had offered.

“You’ve got practice in like 5 minutes, Bo,” you rolled your eyes with a smile. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry!”

He had shouted some compliments at you as you left making you laugh more as you waved goodbye to him.

Had something been wrong then too as you hadn’t noticed?

Bokuto seemed to be dodging you during break times. You’d see a flash of his dyed hair and by the time you got to where he last was, he had disappeared again.

Was he avoiding you? Was this his way of trying to break up with you? Your expression tightened into a frown - after just a few weeks, was Bokuto trying to ghost you in the most immature way possible? Sure, you knew he was childish and didn’t like to hurt people’s feelings too much, but you never expected him to try and disappear from your life like this.

You knew he had practice tonight so at the end of the day, you waited by the gym, awkwardly giving smiles and waves to his teammates as they walked in.

Soon, Bokuto’s eyes caught yours and he froze, looking around for some sort of escape. Your heart dropped just a little - so he really was trying to avoid you.

“H-Hi Y/N,” he smiled nervously, slowly walking towards you and trying to see if he could maybe slip past you.

“Are you trying to break up with me?” You demanded, searching his eyes for guilt or sadness, or any sort of emotion really.

But Bokuto just stared at you with shock, his head tilting the way it did when he was confused (which was often, to be honest), “W-What?”

“You’ve been avoiding me all day. And you didn’t come find me in the morning... or at lunch... and you haven’t texted me all day. It feels like you’re trying to run away from me,” as you spoke, you felt a bit of shame growing in you. Were you just being clingy? Were you overreacting for no reason? Maybe Bokuto was just busy today. Maybe he just needed space. Maybe you had gotten used to him being around you had started getting too clingy to him and he needed to get away from you. “If... If you needed space you could’ve just told me.”

“I don’t need space! I thought you did!” Bokuto gaped at you, reaching out for your hand but hesitating and pulling his arm back suddenly. “I thought... maybe you thought I was too much. Or suffocating you with how much I like you. I know you’re very independent so... I didn’t want to chase you away because I like you so much.”

“Suffocating me?” You repeated in surprise. You hadn’t ever really considered that. Sure, Bokuto came on strong but there was a sort of confidence in it that you really admired. You loved that he told you what he thought with barely a filter sometimes, you loved that he showed you all the time how much he loved you because you were honestly sure you were unlovable for a while. But where you felt like you were the darkness, he was a gleaming sort of light. A happiness that you never understood but always envied, a courage embedded in him that you wanted to get to know more and more, a gigantic heart that you could never understand how or why it chose you. “Bokuto, I am... completely infatuated with you.”

Bokuto watched you, his eyes getting bigger and bigger as the seconds passed. He knew that word (now in two languages) and he knew that was exactly how he felt about you. He grinned and quickly picked you up into a hug, squeezing you tightly, “I missed you so much today. Trying to keep away from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” he whined, his smile not letting up the whole time.

You laughed and snuggled into his neck, squeezing him tightly, “Don’t go ignoring me like that ever again okay! I missed hearing from you all day. You’re the best part of my day,” you told him with a loving tap to his nose, making him beam all the more. 

“Never again! I promise! I’m much too infatuated with you to ever leave your side again, I swear!” he laughed, emphasizing his fancy new vocabulary and making you giggle. 

“Okay okay, go practice before you’re late. Then you can walk me home okay?” You told him and he jumped up excitedly, running off to make sure that practice went by quick so he got to be with you. You just watched him with all the love in your eyes, sitting in the gym and focusing on how he moved, how he soared, how powerful he was.

As practice went on, you couldn’t contain your laughter as Bokuto scolded Akaashi and Konoha for making him believe that he was too much and coming on too strong, insisting that you were the most perfect girl in the world so of course he had to show you how much he loved you.

His words just filled you up with so much joy, you could barely sit still. You were completely in love with Bokuto, but until you were ready for those words, infatuation really did seem to fit quite nicely.

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