#little shy wave is my favorite love language

[gayofthefae]

Just leaving this here <3333

[venusbyline]

Whore ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 21, oct.

(late post) ♡ Whore's Mouth part 1

— pairing: Spencer Reid x girlfriend!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: edging play

— summary: You are tired of Spencer's brat behavior and decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. After all, despite everything, he will always be your little whore at the end of the day.

— word count: 2.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 21st day, female!reader, boyfriend!Reid, edging play, orgasm denial, degradation, praise kink, drunk sex, reader is a member of the BAU, argument, handjob, jealously, cock worship, body worship, slapping, punishment, crying, dacryphilia, semi-public sex, teasing, implied/referenced cheating (BUT NO REALLY), drunken flirting, relationship issues, trust issues, BAU Team mentioned, minor JJ x Prentiss, minor Reid x JJ (BUT NO REALLY), lesbian!JJ mentioned, brat!Reid, brat tamer!reader, light sadism, light hurt/comfort, masochist!Reid, sub!Reid, dom!reader, long hair!Reid/Jesus!Reid. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

Going to a pub with the rest of the BAU team had been a bad decision. A decision that Spencer made by impulse, always enjoying making you jealous when he was a little bored. He had promised that night you two could finally finish watching the new TV show released on Netflix, but instead he convinced you to go with him to drink with your friends.

Despite the slight disappointment of having to change your schedule for the night, you did not mind too much. You loved having fun with the team and you were almost sure Spencer had learned his lesson after the last punishment when you sat on his face for hours, riding him and using his lips to reach your orgasm, as if he was nothing but your favorite sex toy. And indeed he really was and loved to be that for you.

However, Spencer was also a spoiled little whore. Accepting Morgan's invitation to go with the BAU friends to the pub was supposed to be a true fun time. If he had not fucked up everything by flirting with JJ, you really could have had fun with all of them instead of spending every fifteen minutes drinking a new glass of wine. He wanted to get a reaction out of you, something that would make you mad at him again and making him receive the best orgasm of his whole life, as always happened.

At first, you tried to ignore it. JJ distanced herself from him, also not really liking his not-so-innocent flirting. She did not want you to think she was actually interested about your boyfriend. JJ was the type of woman who was more interested especially about Emily, but also about Garcia and even you sometimes. Reid was not even interested in his friend too, it was all only to tease you. But it was still uncomfortable and no one of the group wanted to be in the middle of the possible argument that would ensue if Spencer continued acting with that childish behavior.

When JJ began to ignore the flirting, Spencer sighed with frustration, drinking his whiskey and looking around the establishment. He saw a beautiful curvy woman sitting alone, also drinking the same whiskey. Noticing his gaze, she smirked, fiddling with her long blonde hair before waving at the shy Spencer.

Morgan's attention immediately went to Spencer, noticing how he giggled at the woman's invitation and handed the promise ring to Morgan, who put it inside his jeans pocket before snorting. "Fuck. That's enough, Pretty Boy. You're really crossing the line now."

Morgan knew about Reid's way of attracting your dominant side. He did not think it was all bad, but he also knew that sometimes his friend crossed some limits. And this was something much more serious than the last few situations. "It's just harmless flirting, dude. You know I love my darling more than anything and anyone in this whole world." Spencer defended himself, really annoyed that Morgan thought he was thinking about cheating the woman who had his heart in the palm of her hands.

"Anyway, Reid. This isn't cool, man. You're already making things tense by trying to flirt with JJ in front of everyone. And now you're still gonna do it while your fucking girlfriend's in the bathroom? What kind of gentleman are you?" It was Prentiss's turn to argue, crossing her arms disapprovingly. "It just makes you look like a terrible boyfriend. Actually, it's a real shame for us, for her and for yourself..."

Spencer's eyes widened with shock. He had never seen things this way. He knew he was acting bratty and spoiled, flirting for fun just to get your punishment. Most of the time, Spencer thought you liked the adrenaline rush. However, looking at the real view, he was starting to worry that you were actually hurt by him. Anyone who did not know the two of you well would think he was an cheating man who did not even respect his own girlfriend in public.

"Oh, holy shit..." He sighed in frustration, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to ward off the effects of the alcohol. Spencer looked at each of the older agents, the slight anger in Morgan and Emily faces, the disappointment in Hotch, Garcia and Rossi eyes, and the clear discomfort in JJ's flushed cheeks, which most of the time was the focus of his annoying advances. "Damn, Jen. I sure I'm just-"

Spencer was about to apologize to his friend, but stopped when he heard laughter. A laugh he knew all too well. The entire team looked back, Spencer's face turning pale as he saw a man with an arm around your waist as you two walked to the table. He tried to say anything, anything at all, but all he could think about was how much stronger the man was than him, practically the same height but with a huge difference in muscles, his large hand clasped around your waist as if you were a little doll.

"Guys, this is Nicholas. Or Nick. As I prefer to call him. We met at a coffee shop a few days ago. Nick, these are my teammates at the BAU." You smiled, hands on his strong arm that was bursting out of his white shirt.

"Hey..." The man said with an attempt at a friendly smile, but he did not quite manage it. Spencer was profiling him too well to know that Nicholas was trying his best not to let his arousal show through the shorts he wore, due to your warm hand on his skin.

Spencer waited for you to introduce himself as your boyfriend, to tell the stupid boy that you were his girl. However, the brief look you gave his empty finger was enough to let him know you were nor going to do that. Spencer internally cursed himself for taking off the damn ring and giving it to Morgan. That stupid plan to flirt with the blonde girl in the other part of the pub had already evaporated from his mind, but the consequences were just coming.

After some more time of small talk, Nicholas finally left, saying he needed to get back to the house because he had to study for a casting audition the next morning. The agents said goodbye to him with friendly waves, while Spencer continued with that angry stare, his bad mood only getting worse when Nicholas gave you a brief grab on your ass and a soft kiss on your cheek, humming something like "See you another day, princess" and coming out as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

The atmosphere became tenser after the same moment that the pub bell rang to announce Nicholas's departure. "Well, I guess my girlfriend's nothing but a fucking greedy whore..." Before anyone could argue, you grabbed Spencer's arm without any usual tenderness. Morgan even tried to get up to help both of you resolve the situation, afraid that it would escalate into a violent argument. Even though he trusted his best friends, the thought of a stubborn couple fighting after drinking so much whiskey and wine made him apprehensive, but Hotch motioned for him to remain seated, indicating that the argument was none of their business. The entire team knew Spencer and you well enough to know what would happen in the pub bathroom.

"You really think you've any right to call me a whore?" You growled, your hand unbuttoning the khakis that Reid was wearing, listening to him whimper and try to cover the damp spot on his white boxers. He wanted to keep arguing. He wanted to stay angry as hell after your intentional flirt with that idiot playboy. Spencer really doubted that Nicholas was as smart as he was. Or that Nicholas had as many bachelor's degrees and doctorates as he had. "You think you've the right to call me a fucking greedy whore, when you're the one who's always teasing me, hitting on all the women just to piss me off?"

Your fist closed around his cock, already turned on and sensitive just from the tension of the fight. Spencer tried. He really tried hard to take control. But that had been impossible after you dragged him through the halls while he was calling Nicholas a "stupid actor" and saying you were a cockslut desperate for male attention. Anyway, the wiser reaction was being pushing him against the wall of the women's bathroom — fortunately empty thanks to the few people in the establishment.

"And you are, darling. You're a little whore..." Spencer growled, closing his eyes so he would not watch how your hand moved so quickly on his cock, pinky and needy of your touch, already dripping and proving that he was your little whore, and not the other way around.

"Oh, am I?" You increased the speed, the natural lubrication that dripped from his glans not being enough to stop the slight stinging that came with the friction. It was like rubbing himself raw, and yet Spencer moaned, rolling over his eyes with the ache, whimpering for more. “You look like a noisy slut.” You spat on his cock to ease the pain he was enjoying. On the one hand it was good, as the burning subsided and your saliva was cold from the wine you drank before the argument. But on the other hand, Spencer pouted at the lack of agony and the way you began to rub him slowly. "You like it when it hurts so bad, don't you?"

Your mockery made Spencer bite his lip and smirk, his cheeks flushed with a look that indicated how much he always enjoyed suffering at your hands. He lifted his hips forward and you watched with a raised eyebrow as he fucked himself inside your hand, his hips starting slowly and enjoying the way you let him use your fist to pleasure himself. You did not even need to move, seeing his slutty smile and head arched back, his jaw line forming such a perfect angle that you had to stop yourself from moaning at the sight.

When Spencer's hip movements started to get faster and more erratic, you huffed and took your hand away from his crotch, the soft sound of his cock hitting back against his own thin stomach mixing with the sound of your boyfriend's whimpers.

"You see now? You're nothing but a brainless brat, Spencer. Can't you even ask me to cum? You always have to make a mess? Can't you do anything right?" You practically yelled and he sobbed, squirming against the wall and ignoring the cold tile pressed against his pretty ass.

"I'm so sorry, darling..." He sobbed again, one hand trying to touch himself and the other running through your hair as a way of wanting to beg you for forgiveness, but without saying that.

"Yeah, you should feel that way."

The sad pout appeared on Spencer's lips again. He should not have called you a whore. He should not have arguing with you for letting Nicholas flirt right in front of him, when he teased you like that all the time too. In fact, Spencer had realized that he should not have extended this kind of teasing for so long. He had crossed boundaries and made your relationship stressful. Spencer knew you were hurt by this now and he could not blame you.

"Darling..." He tried to touch you, but you pulled away, spitting into your palm and wrapping your fingers around his girth for the third time, hearing his eager whine. You knew he was just jealous, actually always feeling insecure and wanting punishments. However, you did not want to hear anything right now. You pulled his shirt up, forcing the fabric over his mouth, which he bit against his will, despite the tears in his eyes. Tears that were both of relief at being touched again and sadness at knowing that you did not even want to hear his apologies.

"Stay like that. Like the jealous and needy little slut you are." You ordered, kneeling on the floor in front of Spencer and staring at the sight. His wide teary eyes, his teeth biting into his shirt, his flushed cheeks and his long hair damp with sweat... And most of all, his skinny body and belly contracting in anticipation, your nimble fingers caressing the reddish head of his cock with a smirk on your face, lightly licking the tip and hearing a muffled whimper escaping from those pretty swollen lips. "I'm gonna tease you for as long as I want. And you can just cum when I tell you to, you understand?"

The sharp slap you gave his thigh made Spencer sob with both pain and pleasure, pulsing in your hand as he nodded with some desperation. He needed this. He needed to cum. He needed to be a good boy for you. Your own little whore.

"That's it, my good boy." Despite your anger, you actually smiled for the first time since the whole damn mess started, pressing a soft kiss to the red mark on his skin where you hit him. And Spencer's cheeks flushed, not just because of the horny, but also because he loved you so much. He would be your good boyfriend again.

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[otherone12]

Hi, I'm obsessed with the way you write your stories and I'd like to ask for a request, it's the first time I've done one but I love your stories. I'd like to ask you for one about basement gee x reader (the plot doesn't matter) but I'd like something smut (of course one where both are of legal age) but I'd like to see gerard as someone who is geeky and is in love (somewhat sickly) with the reader

I'm sorry if it's weird, and also English is not my first language so I'm sorry if the wording of the message is bad.

I’m Awkward, Not Dangerous!

Basement!Gerard Way x Reader

-> Masterlist

Hi!!! Omg, I'm glad you like my fics <3 !!! And also thanks for requesting!! I really loved the idea!! Well, I tried to make his nerdy side very visible, mainly by making him very weird in terms of social relationships and some geek references along in the story. Ngl, I had to write this one like three times, 'cause was never good enought, but I think it's nice now lol. I hope you like it! (If it turned out too different from what you imagined, let me know and I'll try to fix it :) )

(If u have some suggestion, idea, or request, just drop it! )

Summary: It suppoused to be another day, but things turned a different when Gerard invite you to watch a movie in his basement, let's just say he REALLY likes you, and you discovered this in the creepy way possible. (I'm terrible at writing summaries)

- Word Count: 3.000

- Warnings: afab SMUT, awkward gerard.

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language ... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1st Person POV

School sucks, our senior year was supposed to be a little funnier, right? Unfortunately, that's not what's happening, but it's infinitely better when they're with me.

Sometimes we spent entire periods outside the classroom, just chatting about anything and listening to our favorite bands, while we smoke behind the bleachers.

This was another one of those afternoons, where one less math lesson didn't make any difference, and it seemed much more interesting to hear Frank make jokes about someone's clothes. Followed by Mikey update us on the latest gigs in town, or Ray making insightful comments on every topic that comes up.

Sometimes, Gerard talks about the backstories of the heroes he created, so we spend hours thinking of outfits and some scenes that might be cool. Is really cute when he gets all excited talking about things he likes.

After a while, the conversation starts to wind down. Frank is scrolling through his phone, muttering something about needing to practice with his band. Mikey checks the time and mentions that his work shift was going to start. Ray says he has to study for some test he has tomorrow, and heads out first, leaving the rest of us behind with a lazy wave.

- Guess that’s it for me, folks. - Frank said, getting up - if I miss one more essay they'll look for another guitarist.

- I think I'll go too - Mikey stubbed out his cigarette and picked up his backpack, making his way to the video store - but I'll probably be home by 9pm… maybe later if Pete and I go drink something after the shift.

Within minutes, it’s just Gerard and I.

He’s sitting a little awkwardly, tucking strands of hair behind the ear, like he’s waiting for the right moment to say something. It’s sweet how shy he gets sometimes, especially when the others aren’t around to drown out the silence. There’s always something a little different about him when it’s just the two of us.

- So, uh…- He cleared his throat. - Do you... wanna come over? I was gonna watch that new horror movie I told you about. The really bad one with the cheesy practical effects…

His voice was low, and he blinked with his beautiful hazel eyes, pleading. After a few seconds, he gave a shy, hopeful smile.

- I mean, only if you’re not busy or anything…

- Nope, I’m totally free. - I smiled at him, excited to watch the movie with him.

The walk to Gerard’s house is filled with easy conversation. He talks about the movie, rambling about the director’s other films, his company was really nice, actually. Every now and then, my shoulder brushes his, and I swear I catch him glancing at me from the corner of his eye. Wasn’t something bothering, but it’s kinda… weird?

When we finally reach Gerard’s place, he fumbled with his keys at the front door, a little too eager.

- My parents aren’t home… - He said, being a bit surprised - Well, I'm gonna fix the things in my room in the basement… Can you wait a minute?

he scratched the back of his neck, apparently nervous, so I let out a smile in an attempt to comfort him. I understand that since we hadn't arranged it beforehand, he didn't have time to prepare or anything.

- Sure!

- I’ll be right back - Gerard rushed to his basement, and I stayed in the living room of Way’s house.

Looking around, I saw family pictures, some paints on the wall, books, a pretty carpet… It was a pretty house. Wasn’t long before Gerard returned from the basement, nodding and beckoning me to follow.

Wasn’t the first time I went to his basement, but I was never alone with him.

It’s cluttered but cozy, just like the other times: comics spread out on his bed, action figures on shelves, and posters of old movies plastered along the walls. His bed was covered with a batman sheet, and he gestures toward it with an awkward smile.

- Make yourself comfortable. - Again, he rushed away, going to the kitchen - I’ll grab drinks.

I sat down, noticing the little details scattered everywhere. He even has a stack of DVDs, just waiting to be watched. It’s easy to see how much of himself Gerard has poured into this space, and somehow, that makes it feel intimate.

He came back with two cans of soda, handing me one as he flops onto the bed beside me. His knee bumped into mine, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he pressed play on the remote, the movie starting with a dramatic, over-the-top horror intro.

As the lights dim and the movie flickers to life, I notice Gerard sneaking a glance my way. It’s quick, like he’s checking to see if I’m still there or if I’ve evaporated into thin air. He shifted in his seat, awkwardly pulling his hoodie sleeves over his hands.

I tried to focus on the screen, I really do, but out of nowhere, his hand brushes against mine. It was kind of an accidental touch, my heart raced, but I didn’t move it.

After some seconds of just the sound of the movie filling the room, Gerard cleaned his throat and took a deep breath, like he was trying to take courage to say something.

- Y’know… - I turned my attention to him - I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.

I Glance at him, and he’s looking at the TV like he’s afraid it might explode if he makes eye contact with me.

- Do what? - I asked, trying not to sound as jittery as I feel.

- Uh... spend time with just you. - He scratched the back of his neck, and his gaze moved from the tv to me.

I didn’t know what to say, so I defaulted to my nervous habit, fiddling with my bracelet, twisting it around my wrist like it holds the answer to every awkward situation. Gerard noticed, of course, because apparently, he has a PhD in Me Studies.

- You don’t have to be nervous, sugar.

“Sugar”? He never called me that way before. But he kept talking, like it wasn’t a big deal. I did not protest, I actually kinda liked it.

- You always mess with that bracelet when you’re nervous. - He said like it was something obvious - It’s... kinda cute.

I shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, only to realize: Gerard isn’t watching the movie. He’s watching me. And he’s terrible at being subtle about it.

Before I can process what’s happening, he slips his hand into mine, like a middle-schooler figuring out how to hold hands for the first time. His palm is warm, a little sweaty, okay, a lot of sweat, but weirdly... I didn’t mind.

It wasn't as if I didn't like him, maybe I really liked him too, I'd just never thought about it before. Back to the movie, my mind was filled with a million other things to think about, so I couldn't even focus on looking at the screen. My gaze traveled around the room, but something caught my eye: a small, familiar notebook lying half-tucked beneath a pile of DVDs on the coffee table really close to his bed.

The same notebook Gerard always carries with him at school, the one he’s always scribbling in during lunch or between classes. I couldn’t help myself to take advantage of Gerard's distraction, and I flipped it open. 

My eyes went wide and my heart skipped a beat when I saw what was inside that notebook. Pages and pages of photos of me. Some printed, others cut out from old Polaroids. All of them are candid shots, taken without my knowledge. There’s one of me smoking behind the bleachers, another of me laughing with Mikey, and several from school, walking to class, sitting at my desk, leaning against my locker.

Each one is accompanied by small, scribbled notes in Gerard’s messy handwriting. Things like “She looks so pretty here.” or “I wish this was just the two of us.” … Along with sketches of portraits, pieces of comics that meant something in our “relationship”. There were sketches of us together, drawn in different comic styles, one of us as Jedi, another as superheroes, and even one as cartoon vampires, all accompanied by little speech bubbles with inside jokes.

Every page flipped, I got even more shocked about the large amount of content he has there. Things from years ago, and the last things were from the last days.

- Hey... What are you looking at? - His voice is soft, but there’s an edge to it now, a note of panic creeping in.

I glance up to see Gerard frozen in place, his hazel eyes wide with fear as he notices the notebook in your hands.

- W-where did you…? - He mumbled, turning bright red, embarrassed - Uh... I can explain! Wait, no, I mean- don't freak out... It’s... okay, it looks bad, but it’s not that bad.

He let go from my hand and got up, rubbing his hands together nervously. he began to pant, and his countenance indicated that he was desperately looking for an excuse.

- Well, it is exactly what it looks like! - I yell, turning back to the notebook, still shocked, analyzing every page.

He turned around, rubbing one of his hands over his face in a messy motion. Before long, he began to walk around the room in circles, while his shaky voice continued to speak.

- Oh God, I’m gonna die. Yep. This is how I die. - he murmured to himself, before facing me again - Just bury me under these comics.

Before i could say anything, he blurts:

- Okay, look… it’s not like I’m a total creep, okay? I-I just... thought you looked cool... like, really cool, and, um - The words rushed out of his mouth, as if he had stopped thinking and was just throwing anything to ease the situation -… okay, I might have taken some pictures without asking… b-but it’s not like ‘weird’ weird! It’s... more... uh... admiration?

I couldn't hide my look of confusion. At the same time as I wanted to get out of there, I didn't want to. It was obviously strange, but at the same time it was adorable the way he noticed me. The things he wrote in that notebook said so much more than I could have imagined he felt. Not giving me time to think about what to say, he kept going.

- I thought, y'know, maybe if I... cataloged- no, wait, bad word… uh, recorded...? - He groans - I swear I sound less creepy in my head.

- Look, I was gonna tell you... - He insists, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. - I mean, not like this, obviously. 

He catched my confused expression and groans again.

-Ugh, you probably think I’m a total loser now.

The more he spoke, the less frightening the situation became and the cuter he seemed to me. So I stood up, in a failed attempt to calm him down, but the result was the complete opposite.

- Wait! Please don’t go. I-I know this is... a lot. But I promise I’m not some psycho. - He pauses, then adds, - Like, I’m awkward, not dangerous! 

I don't know where that feeling came from. Maybe it's always been there. I wanted to hug him, kiss him and tell him that it was fine, that I knew he wasn’t a psycho. 

 - Okay, okay! I know I’m weird, but... don’t leave me hanging here. Please. I really... like you. - the statement caught me off guard. it's not as if it wasn't obvious, but I wasn't prepared.  -  Like, more than I ever thought possible.

The way he looks at me, a perfect mix of nervous wreck and hopeful puppy is strangely endearing. Something about his awkward honesty makes it impossible to walk away. So I finally react, letting a grin escape from the corner of my lip. 

- You’re such a dork, Gee. - I chuckled, and his eyes opened wide.

- W-wait, does that mean…? - A confused happiness made Gerard freeze and look directly at me. 

-Yeah. - I approached him, smiling and rolling my eyes - I think I like you too, you idiot.

-Oh my God… - his hazel eyes glowed and a huge smile formed in his pink lips - this is like one of those rom-coms where the nerd actually wins?!

I shook my head, laughing at his words. He’s still red-faced and fumbling, but it’s clear now: he’s just a lovable, geeky mess who adores me in his own awkward way.

- No pressure or anything, but, uh... If we were in a romance movie, this would be the part where the two leads kiss.

I chuckled and my lips reached his. The warm sensation filled my body, the kiss was sloppy and desperate, felt like something he was holding for too long, something he couldn’t deal with anymore. His hands held my waist, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He let out a soft moan and pulled back only to whisper:

- This feels like... you know... that scene in Return of the Jedi when-

- Gerard, - I interrupted, laughing. - Less Star Wars and more kissing, please.

- Right, yeah, sorry. - He turned bright red.

Gerard catched my lips again, deeper this time, with a bit more confidence. His hand slid to my waist, thumb brushing lazy circles against my skin, and his tongue explored my mouth, while he laid me down on his bed. His lips trailing down to my neck, scattering kisses that made my whole body buzz.

-You smell amazing. Like... that forest level in that one game. You know, the one where…

He trailed off, realizing how silly it sounded, but the look on his face was too earnest to be embarrassed.

- You are such a dork. - I laughed again, running my fingers through his messy hair. 

- Yeah, but I’m your dork, - he murmured, nuzzling into the crook of my neck, planting soft kisses along my collarbone.

His touch was gentle but hungry, as if each kiss, each brush of his fingers, was an apology for all the moments he’d spent longing for this. 

When he slid his hands under my shirt, he paused, looking at me with wide, nervous eyes. 

- Is this... okay? - he asked, shyly. The insecurity in his tone of voice was adorable, no more so than the sparkle in his eyes as he saw me give him a nod, lifting my arms so he could pull the shirt over my head. His gaze lingered on me, admiration glowing in his eyes. - Wow... You’re so -

- Gerard.-  I touched his face, guiding him back down for another kiss. - You’re doing fine.

He smiled, clearly relieved, and kissed me again, this time more eagerly. His hands, still trembling slightly, found their way to the button of my jeans. He fumbled for a moment, biting his lip in concentration. 

Once my jeans were off, he took a moment to just look at me, his hands resting on my hips as if grounding himself. 

- I don’t want to mess this up -  he whispered. 

- You’re not messing anything up, Gee..- i calmed him, brushing a thumb over his flushed cheek - Just... keep going

That was all the encouragement he needed. He kissed me again, his hands moving with a little more certainty now, sliding beneath my bra to touch bare skin. I gasped, arching into his touch, and he let out a shaky breath, somewhere between a moan and a laugh.

When he finally got out of his clothes, struggling with his belt in the process,

 -  Stupid thing… -  he muttered  flustered and I couldn't stop smiling. 

He was trying so hard, and there was something endearing about how eager yet unsure he was.

He kissed me again, slower this time, savoring the moment as his hands trailed down to my thighs, spreading them gently. His boxers were the last to go, and when I felt him against me, the heat between us became impossible to ignore.

- I’ve dreamed about this, - Gerard admitted breathlessly, kissing the side of my neck. - About you... For so long.

I felt my body react to him instinctively, desire building with every brush of his skin against mine. When he paused, hovering just at the edge, his eyes searched mine one last time.

- Is this okay? -  he whispered, his voice low and full of both need and vulnerability.

- Yes,-  I breathed, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. - I want this, Gee.

And then, with a slow, careful thrust, his cock was inside me. I gasped, gripping his hair as my body adjusted to the sensation. The burn was sweet and overwhelming.

He started moving, hesitant at first, like he was still learning how to sync with me. But every time I moaned his name, he seemed to gain a little more confidence, his rhythm becoming more certain, more desperate.

The heat between us grew, the room filled with soft gasps and whispered encouragement. His hands roamed my body, one settling on my waist, the other cradling my face as if I were something precious. As deeper he was coming I felt the tension coil in my stomach, tighter and tighter, until I was teetering right on the edge. 

- I’m close…

- Do it, sugar, - he panted, his voice thick with need. - Cum for me.

With a final thrust, the pleasure crashed over me like a wave. I clenched around him, clinging to him, nails digging into his back as I moaned his name, lost in the intensity of it.

Gerard groaned, his movements faltering as he reached his own release. The warmth of the ropes of his cum filling me up pushed me deeper into my own bliss, and we stayed like that, tangled together, catching our breath.

He pressed a lazy kiss to my shoulder, his body still trembling slightly. 

- Wow… -  he whispered, sounding both dazed and amazed. - That was... better than any dream I’ve ever had.

I laughed softly, brushing damp hair from his forehead. 

- Yeah. Way better.

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~ sooo, that's it! Let me know if you liked! :)

[ciy0]

☆*:.｡.FANCALL.｡.:*☆

Summary - Like many idols Mingyu dreaded fancalls, well that was until you were on the other side.

Word Count - 2.7k

Content Warnings - 18+ Slight Sexual Language [2 be safe], Fluff, Shy/Cute! Y/n, Love At First Sight?, Sneaky! Mingyu, The Sparks Are Flying, Mingyu thinks Y/n is Adorable, Slight Innapropriate Dynamic with Fan & Idol, NDA Mentioned, Short Hair!Mingyu Appreciation, Hoshi Cameo, Mingyu gets Bricked Up lol, Shameless Flirting

a/n - this is the least dark thing i’ve written so far and it still got a lil something something but it’s very cute and short hair mingyu is indeed my favorite

☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆

Mingyu believed he had the coolest job in the world. Honestly, being able to make music with his twelve best friends and travel the world was something out of a storybook. And his mother ingrained in him from a young age to always be grateful for the wonderful opportunities presented to him throughout his life. But with all the positives that came with being a successful and attractive idol there were many negatives that he tried his best to take in stride. Stalkers, calls from saesangs all throughout the night, rude staff, endless schedules, extreme diets and that was just to name a few. But one took the cake out of all of them—fancalls.

Don’t get him wrong, he loved meeting carats more than anything in the world; accepting their sweet comments while trying to make their experience worth while in the short time allotted. Most were so kind, humorous and creative, it was always so fascinating getting to see how many different types of people Seventeen’s music reached even after all this time. But just like the duality of life there were fancalls that went so horribly it unfortunately made him dread doing them at all. Whether it went from brazen fans demanding him to strip, asking him uncomfortable questions, to hurling insults at him for not remembering them from a fan meet over 3 years ago. It really could be so draining, not knowing what type of person would be on the other side of the call but he had to do it—and with a smile.

“Bye~ love youuu,” He waved as he ended the facetime with a fan from Australia. It wasn’t one of the worst ones but the constant ‘Oppa Will you marry me please?’ question was starting to get on his nerves, the forced cute tone just making it worse. Expertly he kept swerving around the question but she was quite persistent. The timer for the call was his saving grace as he threw his head back in a deep groan no longer having to deal with the irritating fan. ‘Just one more’ he thought. One more then he could call it a night and go to sleep. He took a deep breathe just in time to prepare himself to greet the next fan.

“Hello-“ He tilted to look back down at the phone screen to check the name and—Oh? Well for starters what a pretty thing you were. “Hello…Y/n?” Voice raising at the end, checking his pronunciation.

You smiled brightly at him trying to hide the little squeak you made before nodding and greeting him back enthusiastically, “Oh my gosh, Mingyu hi!”

Many fans somehow found ways to constantly win the fancalls or fanmeets but he was confident that he’d never seen you at even a concert. With a face like that even with his bad memory he’d be sure to remember. Your face already enough to give him the boost of energy he so desperately needed.

He found himself reflecting your sweet smile at your excitement, “Is this your first fancall?”

You bit your lip softly before nodding, “Y-yeah, I’m sorry i’m just so overwhelmed right now. I’ve been a fan for so many years.” You expressed earnestly.

He couldn’t stop his tongue from lightly grazing against the bottom of his canines as he watched your plush lips. “Yeah?,” He gazed back up at your eyes, “ I’m honored, thank you for your continuous love and support…Who’s your favorite?” He asked cheekily.

You laughed in your hand at that, “You of course.” you lowered your hand as you felt a bit more comfortable to express yourself, remembering the short time for the calls despite all you wanted to say, “I had always been into kpop but Seventeen was always the most special group to me. Your music reminds me of youth and freedom and the love you all have for each other warms my heart. Watching you guys grow and flourish literally is my pick me up in life. I ended up falling for your charms seeing you take care of your members, i love your big heart! I was lucky enough to win this fancall so I just wanted to say this all from the bottom of my heart. Also your short hair is beautiful!” You ended passionately hoping you properly conveyed your emotions. You had been practicing this for over a week.

He couldn’t help the dazed smile that took over his features. Your words technically weren’t anything new. He had heard some variation in the hundreds of calls up to this point but something about yours was just different. The back of his neck slowly warming at the thought of little ole you watching over Seventeen (him) this whole time.

He thanked you sincerely again as he sneakily snuck his hand across the table to turn off the impending timer—he wanted more time with you. Hopefully you couldn’t see the little imaginary devil horns adorning his head at his little scheme.

“ Where do you live?” He asked pointedly. He watched your brows slightly raise at the sudden inquiry,” Your window—,” He pointed behind you,” It looks about the same time of day as it is for me… are you close by Korea?”

He knew at this point things were slowly heading down a road that was hardly appropriate to engage in with a sweet little fan like yourself but he felt the risk was worth. It wasn’t everyday he got to meet a girl as enthralling as you. I mean how could he not, those beautiful eyes taking him in like that, your sincere words and admiration—he may be an idol but he was still just a man at the end of the day. A weak man.

“O-oh” You looked back at your window before turning around, “Well right now, I’m actually in Korea—like as we speak. I’m here for work. I think it’s been about two weeks already…”

Korea you say? The next words slipped out before he could even catch himself, too busy examining your features. “Modeling?” As if it was a no-brainer.

You threw your head back in laughter at that but he didn’t get what was so funny. Seeing that he was expectantly waiting for an answer you wiped your stray tear and responded.

“No, no model over here but i’m working on a TV production set for a company is Seoul”

Oh? You’re in Seoul too. He’s in Seoul…and he doesn’t believe in coincidences. Don’t you think—things are aligning too perfectly?

“Such a stunning face like that behind the camera,” He whines playfully, “It’s a crime!”

His face lights up at your bashful giggle at his compliment, it made him feel on top of the world. Even though this was your fancall he just needed to know more, and flatter you more, hoping you wouldn’t catch on that the timer would’ve gone off minutes ago. Afraid that piece of information would scare you off.

“Your boyfriend back home must be missing you right now then, “ he continued shamelessly, eyes hanging low waiting for your reply.

Your eyes shifted feeling a little hot under his unwavering gaze, “It’s okay, I d-don’t have one anyways” You twiddled your thumbs.

“Yeah? You don’t need one anyways though, right? Cause I’m your favorite, “ He jokingly stated.

It took you a beat before you caught the teasing joke, not confirming nor denying. Mingyu often playfully teasing fans for looking at other men wasn’t anything new. But in those videos he’d be sporting his signature pout but right now he was completely fixated on you, mouth slightly ajar in wonder. You felt your chest get hot briefly feeling so small in the presence of a cunning wolf. You reflexively went to check the time on your phone—

“Right, Y/n?” Your breathe caught hearing your name come from his lips for the second time that day. You forgot your name was even displayed on the screen let alone expecting to hear it again, especially like that.

Mingyu wanted an answer, and he wanted you to stop checking the time on your damn phone. His eyes like a puppy’s reading “pay attention to me”.

“Of course Mingyu,” you conceded demurely, forgetting your train of thought. “You’re the golden standard honestly. There’s a inside joke amongst Carats that God made you as an apology for men haha and i can’t help but think there must be some truth to that” You said matter of factly knowing how much he loved when fans stroked his ego and just how true it was. The handsome smile you received from that was damn near blinding but as a fan it was a dream to make your idol happy and tell him the truths about himself that he deserved to hear. He was handsome, kind, talented and all of the above.

You were so cute—fuck. He had been privy to that little joke a couple months back, constantly being heralded for all his green flags he had as a potential boyfriend or husband but he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty at hearing them from you. Because he knew he was failing miserably at stopping the nasty thoughts of him doing naughty things to the beautiful Carat he had the pleasure of meeting at that moment.

“Earlier” He started softling shaking his head out of those images,” You said you liked my short hair— which one do you like most? If you had to choose, Long or short?” He didn’t want to come off sleazy with the constant flirting and possibly make you uncomfortable so he went back to earlier in the conversation to lighten the tension. Maybe it’d help with tightness currently in his sweatpants.

He expected you to struggle before ultimately landing on long hair like everyone else would answer but your quick and confident reply of “Short” caught him off guard.

He ran a hand through his cut locks subconsciously. You were the first to say that. He liked his short hair too but it seemed like most of fans didn’t and made sure to let him know. He knew they didn’t mean harm by it but your heartfelt validation made his ears redden against his tan skin.

“Really?” His eyebrows raised before grinning childishly, “You’re not just saying that?”

You mirrored his grin, “Your long hair fits you very well but short really is my favorite. Hmm,” You tapped your chin in thought, “ You look more pretty and soft with long hair but God you look so manly and sexy with it short like a firefighter. And with your big arms and-”

You glanced back down absentmindedly just to see his shocked expression before covering your face up in embarrassment. You did not mean to say all of that out loud, worried you might’ve made him uncomfortable with your involuntary tangent.

“And?” He leaned forward head in hands tilted teasingly, “Big arms and what Y/n?”

You peeked through your fingers, “Well you know, y-you take good care of yourself and it shows.” You promptly closed your fingers again.

He chuckled at your cute antics, heart squeezing painfully, wishing he was there to pry your hands from your pretty face and get all up in your bubble.

“So you like manly looking men huh?, “ He leans back naturally spreading his legs under the table—though you couldn’t see, “I’ll keep that in mind.” For some reason when you talked about his body like that it didn’t make him feel awkward or objectified like in the past with other fans. Quite the opposite, it excited him. Were you thinking dirty thoughts about him too? God he wanted to hear them.

A ring from your side of the call rung out causing you to curse lightly before looking at him again, previous shyness leaving. You ordered food almost 20 minutes ago?! You hadn’t realized the time flew so fast talking to Mingyu. But why didn’t the timer go off? Before you could question him the restless delivery driver banged on your door.

“Mingyu it was so nice finally meeting you,” You started to get up, your smooth thigh coming into focus causing him to bite his lip and discreetly shift his leg to hide his erection, “My foods at the door so I have to go-“

“No don’t goooo,” he pouted ,” I’ll wait right here so go and quickly bring it back yeah?” He gave you his best pleading eyes, he didn’t want the call to end, at least not yet.

You pulled down your lounging dress slightly before nodding and swiftly heading off the screen, a slight “coming!” heard in the background.

He tapped away on his phone patiently waiting for you to return until he heard a knock on his door. Turning back he saw Hoshi’s head pop out.

“Bro you’re still not done?” Hoshi glanced around the room, “Everyone’s heading home soon, you need to wrap it up before management notices”

Mingyu held his hands in a begging motion, “Hyung distract them for a bit, please i’ll be quick” he pleaded.

Hoshi raised an eyebrow in question but left with a huff of ‘you owe me’ before closing the door. With a ‘hehe’ Mingyu turned around just in time for you to settle back down with your takeout in hand.

“Ooo whatd you get Y/n?” He really liked the way your name sounded on his lips.

You looked up at the sound of your name again and smiled as you took out the containers, “I got some Tteokkbokki, dumplings, kimchi of course and look,” you held up your last dish, “ The place by my apartment makes a salmon katsudon and its-“ You moan dramatically just at the thought (causing him to flinch in his pants),” It’s to die for.”

“Wahh that looks so good…” he trailed off watching your cheeks chub as you were already digging into your food, he just wanted to reach over and pinch them. You barely even noticed as he watched you quietly cause you were in your own world, obviously underestimating how hungry you were. Once you realized you were quite literally stuffing your face in front of Mingyu you haphazardly swallowed what was left in your mouth ready to apologize but when you looked up he was just gazing at you fondly.

“Is there something on my face?” You wondered out loud, putting your container down.

“You just look so cute enjoying your food. I’ll have to try that place soon” He tugged on his ear nervously, “ Hey Y/n?”

You looked back at him with wide eyes,” Hmm?”

“I really have to go soon,” He began, eyes slightly saddening at that fact,” But Seventeen is having a fan meet in Seoul next week…. If i send you some tickets through your company would you come?” He would’ve liked to give them to you personally but that might be a little to forward for now.

Your mouth dropped at that, never thinking such an outcome would come from this fancall. Really all you wanted was to convey your appreciation to the group. You nodded dumbly before giving him your companies details upon his request still slightly lost that this was all happening.

He was elated you accepted making sure to store that information safely so he could send the tickets later. “I really hope to see you then Y/n-“ he heard footsteps getting close to his room signally him he really had to let go of you for now, “I’ve taken too much of your time, enjoy your food and-“

He hesitated ending the call as he always did. Normally an easy ‘love you~’ was his go-to but for some reason it felt so intimate relaying it to you. “Thank you for loving seventeen and… I love you~” He blew a kiss, his eyes never straying from yours despite the heat in his cheeks.

You gasped quietly at his ending words. You knew he always told his fans that but right then you didn’t feel like he was telling you that as just an idol to supporter.

“Love you too Mingyu, take care of yourself Okay?”

The steps were getting louder so he initiated his melancholic goodbye before you reciprocated with a breathless one of your own; ultimately ending the call.

Just in time he got up as a staff member entered the room. Acting none the wiser Mingyu moved passed them with a bow saying he was heading home before any questions could be asked. He really needed to take care of his problem downstairs anyways.

While in the car on the way home he sent a message to his manager and gave your workplaces information to send some tickets for you and your coworkers, not to draw any unnecessary attention to you specifically . His manager didn’t question the sudden gift exchange which he was thankful for, only asking if there was anything else needed. Mingyu typed out a ‘nope hyung thanks’ in return until he envisioned that gorgeous smile of yours but this time it was within arms reach.

‘Hyung, can you get an NDA ready by next week too?’

NDA - non disclosure agreement, can be used for various things but in this case many celebrities have the people they keep close to them or want to start a relationship with sign one to protect their privacy pls comment it inspires me (°▽°)

[silentscrying]

🎸 out of my mind ! 💿 track one : the hell happened in shibuya?

guitarist!ino x drummer!reader

summary: it's the annual battle of the bands at the fix, your college campus's iconic live music bar, and this year you're taking the stage as the drummer for indie rock group cursed technique. you know the competition is strong, but no part of you is ready for lead singer and guitarist takuma ino. you lock eyes at the edge of the stage, and something starts—something that might make you feel alive even more than the beat of the drums.

warnings: language, alcohol, he was a skater boi, she did NOT say see you l8r boi, unhinged toge, absurd amount of worldbuilding for what this is, penguins of madagascar. || sfw. 10.1k words.

IT’S A PULSE. That’s the only way you can describe it, the rush of living energy that comes with drumming a live set on the stage of a shitty campus bar, the bass shooting through your blood in time with the adrenaline. Soles of your shoes to the tips of your fingers, the ache in your arms from 120 bpm, amp-deaf ears and stage-blind eyes. You’re alive, and you’re addicted to this feeling. You think you’ll chase it forever.

“Guess it could be a blessing in disguise,” Nobara sings, dropping to one knee at the edge of the stage and gripping the mic in one hand and the wire in the other. She leans out over the crowd, grinning as they match her energy. You switch to a steady buildup on the floor tom, adding snare halfway through your crescendo, and build to a sudden, jarring stop as Nobara belts, “But like hell I’m gonna wait for hindsight!”

You’re back in with a dramatic cymbal stinger, and Nobara whoops and jumps back to her feet, dancing across the stage toward Maki and throwing out her arms to emphasize the bass solo. “One last round for Maki Zenin, everybody!” she shouts.

The crowd obliges, hooting and hollering as Nobara launches back into the final chorus. The lights on the low stage flash, making Toge’s white-blond hair look purple where he stands at the keyboard.

“Give it up for Yuta Okkotsu on guitar!” Yuta does his little riff without looking at the audience—the attention always gets him a little shy. “Toge Inumaki on keys!” Nobara spins around to look at you, winking as the last long, held chord starts rising. “And on kit, you know her, you love her, your drummer, Skip!”

You smirk at the nickname as you hit triplets down the toms and pound the bass, rolling every cymbal in sight to create a barrage of sound as the rest of the band looks to Nobara for the final cue.

“Thank you!” Nobara shouts, throwing a hand up in the air. “I’m Nobara Kugisaki, we’re Cursed Technique, and that’s our set for Friday at The Fix.” She lets the crowd holler for just a moment longer, then throws her hand down.

With a final bass hit, the music comes to a stop. You toss your sticks into the bag hanging from the floor tom and stand, pushing back sweaty hair and waving. The crowd is all indistinguishable shadow with the stage lights in your eyes, but you love it anyway.

This is your favorite place on campus, favorite place in the city—tonight, maybe it’s your favorite place in the world. As you file off the stage, the next band moves out to set up.

Tonight is preliminary performances for the annual Battle of the Bands at The Fix, and Cursed Technique is entering for the first time. You don’t know all the bands (or solo artists, because apparently they’re eligible this year too), but this next one you’re very familiar with. Because—

Maki pauses in front of Mai, taking that stance she only ever takes with her twin sister, cocky and ready to provoke. “Don’t fuck up,” she says.

“Like you did? I heard that bridge. G minor my ass.”

“Aw, you pay attention,” Maki grins. They roll their eyes in tandem and knock shoulders as they pass each other. You genuinely can never tell how serious they’re being. Is it a twin thing, a sister thing? Do they actually hate each other?

Aoi Todo goes after Mai, saying something along the lines of “are you ready to fucking boogie, Zenin?” and Maki snorts as the two of you fall in behind Toge and Yuta, Nobara on your right.

You were the first performance of the night, and there’ll be three more after you and four performances next Friday to wrap up round one. The two lowest-ranked bands or artists will be eliminated. You’re praying that’s not you.

The audience has taken the intermission in stride, the bathroom line curling around the far wall and the bar line even longer. The wait’s not worth it, you figure. Then you turn around and realize Nobara’s disappeared.

“Where did she—”

“Bow down to your savior,” her voice says from your other side, and you spin to see her and Toge holding three drinks.

“You are literally the only two of us who can’t drink,” you say, accepting the drink from Toge and nodding to the stamps on the back of their hands, marking them as underage.

Toge grins. “Yeah, but we’re super trustworthy and shit.”

You blink at them and look back over to the bar. Gojo’s working, his white hair the brightest thing in the dark corner behind the counter. Ah.

“You and your nepo baby privileges,” Maki says, grabbing a drink from Nobara’s hands with a huff of laughter.

“I’m not the nepo baby. I’m just friends with the nepo baby.”

“Oh, hey, c’mon.” Yuta nudges you, turned toward the stage. “They’re starting.”

Sure enough, Kasumi Miwa and her shock of blue hair are standing center stage, electric guitar in hand. Maki rolls her eyes when Mai starts tuning behind her.

“How’re we feelin’ tonight, guys?” Kasumi asks, and the gathered students let out a rampant cheer as half the bathroom line abandons their quest and makes their way back to the crowd. “That’s what we like to hear! Alright.”

She looks back at each of her band members in turn, making sure they’re ready. Todo nods and punctuates his agreement with a double kick hit. “We’re Black Flash, and this one should sound a little familiar.”

Momo kicks off with a jazzy intro on the keyboard, Toge already nodding along beside you, and then they’re off in an upbeat, syncopated number you genuinely can’t help but dance to. Sounds like they won last year for a reason.

“Should I learn sax?” Toge shouts over the music, and you glance up to see that Momo has abandoned the keys for a gleaming golden alto. You shake your head at him, taking a drink of whatever it was he and Nobara brought you—it’s sweet, fruity with a kick of vodka.

“Please don’t!” you shout back. “You’ll just play Careless Whisper all the time!” Toge sticks his tongue out at you, which means you’re right. You cheer as the opening song comes to a close with Kasumi hanging onto a long, high note as Todo goes crazy behind her, and then they segue smoothly into a new chart, the bassist walking a steady line up and down before the drums join back in.

You can’t quite remember his name, but you’re pretty sure he’s Kasumi’s boyfriend. His eyes stay trained on her for the majority of their set, watching as she dances around the stage, does an impromptu riff-off with Mai, throws her blue hair around like a natural born rockstar.

“She’s so fucking cool,” you tell Maki, who nods, pointedly looking at everyone on the stage except Mai.

“Thank you!” Kasumi shouts when the band is finally wrapping up. “We’re Black Flash!” You throw back the rest of your drink and cheer with the rest of the hyped-up students.

You don’t feel great about your chances of beating that, but hey, you’re having a good time.

Panda, the senior from the campus radio station, walks out on stage and does some crowd work while the stage techs move things around. You’re pretty sure you knew his name at some point—you wonder idly if he’d even answer to it. You’ve never heard anyone refer to him by anything other than Panda.

“Alright, your penultimate performance of the night, folks,” he says, drawing another cheer from the rowdy front of the crowd. “Let’s give it up for last year’s runner-ups, Shibuya Incident!”

“Shibuya Incident?” you murmur, and Maki snorts. “The hell happened in Shibuya?”

“They’re like, basement emo or something? I don’t know. Nobara said they’re actually good.”

Right. As the band files onstage, you remember that you know about these guys, at least the two sophomores on stage. The kid on drums with the pink hair is Yuji, and the broody bass player is Megumi. They live down the street. Nobara’s over there sometimes. You’ve been meaning to meet her sophomore friends, but the start of school was so busy you haven’t gotten the chance.

“Isn’t he your cousin?” You nod to the bassist and Maki smirks.

“Yeah, he doesn’t tell me anything. I think Nobara might know him better than I do.”

The band launches into a song with no introduction, and you’re captivated.

You don’t recognize the girl, gripping a sleek black and red electric, her dark hair in a combination of knots and braids, studded belt and piercings catching the stage lights.

And you definitely don’t know the frontman.

He’s got a black beanie tugged crookedly over a mess of brown hair, and something about him is strangely mesmerizing. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him around campus before, maybe even around The Fix—but you’ve never heard him sing.

You’d remember.

He closes his eyes, lips almost touching the microphone, fingers moving up and down the frets of his electric as he croons, “And my hopes climbed up, tried to tear ‘em down, but they went so fast and it’s too late now.”

And then he opens his eyes, lets the dark-haired girl handle the guitar as he pulls the mic off the stand, still singing. The lights outline his figure in red as he crosses to the front of the stage, the audience surging to meet him. And he looks right at you.

“Dark eyes, the charcoal aftertaste, your mind, you make me wanna waste my life, so promise it’s a lie, a lie, I try, I lie.”And then he circles back to the mic and jams it into the stand, fingers finding the frets of the electric once again. “I guess it’s too late now.”

You chose journalism because you’re a realist—you want the gritty underside of the story, not the fluff piece. Half the time your class readings are about crime and war and all the bad things going on in the world. Love at first sight doesn’t make the front page.

Point being, you’re not a romantic. But when this guy looks at you, you kind of want to be.

What are you thinking right now? You don’t even know him. He’s attractive, yes. He’s talented. You have no way to gauge whether he’s a good person, whether you’re even remotely compatible, whether he’s single, based on listening to a few songs.

But the energy in the room is intoxicating, somehow. The vocals cling to the back end of the beat, relaxed but in a way that demands you hang on. The bass reverb is cranked, creating a kind of wave over the whole of the bar, low and static.

In a high school psych class, you did a project on hypnotism, all the science of it, whether it was effective or even real. You’d tried to do it to yourself, and you’d had a classmate try too, to no avail. Now you think maybe the process of hypnosis isn’t all that complicated after all. It’s just… this.

When the song ends, something in you hollows out, like you need the music to be whole again. But then the lead singer grabs the mic and starts talking. And you think maybe, actually, his voice is just alluring whether he’s singing or not.

“Hey,” he says simply, hanging onto the mic with both hands, letting the guitar hang from its strap. “We’re Shibuya Incident. Hope you’re having a good time tonight.” His eyes scan the crowd, attentive, and you might be delusional, but you think they linger on you for just a second.

“This next one’s new,” he says, glancing back at Megumi with a smile. “It’s called Strike First. Kirara, kick us off.”

The girl on guitar—Kirara—obliges, busting out a descending riff so fast you can’t fathom how her fingers are moving. On the drums, Yuji puts four on the floor and then starts with a laid back hi-hat, and you lose yourself in the music again.

At some point, Yuta waves a hand in front of your face and you realize abruptly that he’s been trying to talk to you. “You good?” he says in your ear, and you nod, grinning. He gives you a strange look but takes you at your word.

After Shibuya Incident walks off stage, you pretty much lose interest. The last performer of the night goes by Angel, and you can’t deny she’s got some lungs on her, but you’ve heard her before. She has a pretty big online following, so her songs are old news to you, recognizable from Reels or TikTok.

“Is her name actually Angel?” Toge asks, and Nobara shakes her head with a dramatic eye-roll.

“Hana,” she says. “It’s a stage name.”

Toge wiggles his brows in a way that means okay, but she’s hot, and Nobara elbows him in the ribs.

When the night is over and the crowd has started to disperse, you find yourself scanning the area beside the stage. It doesn’t take you long to spot Shibuya Incident clustered together near a wall, mostly because of Yuji’s bright pink hair.

Nobara seems to have spotted them as well. She drags you over to the three boys, the girl already disappearing with the blond stage tech—Hakari, you’re pretty sure his name is.

“Oi,” she calls. “Fushiguro, the new song fucked. I’m mad about it.”

“Why—”

“Because we’re supposed to win,” Nobara says with a hand on her hip, and they devolve into arguing, Yuji fruitlessly trying to mediate. You’re left standing awkwardly to the side, and your gaze drifts to the remaining member of their band—the singer, the lead guitarist.

On stage, he’d seemed untouchable, confident and flirty and at ease. Now, he can’t seem to decide whether to stuff his hands in his pockets or wring them in front of him or tug self-consciously at the crooked beanie on his head.

It’s endearing, honestly.

You stick a hand out, suddenly self-conscious. “Hey,” you say. “Uh, I’m not sure we’ve met officially. I’m—well, they usually call me Skip, but—”

“Where are my manners?!” Nobara screeches, turning away from Megumi and Yuji and finally realizing the situation she’s put you in. “Oh my god! Skipper, this is Ino—Ino, Skip. Drummer, singer. Singer, drummer. Blah, blah, blah. You’re both juniors, right? Ino, are you a senior? I dunno anymore. Anyway!” She claps her hands together once, grinning. “Now we’re all friends. And opponents. Go on, converse with the enemy.” She flaps her hands at the both of you and turns back to the boys, apparently not done arguing with Megumi, though it sounds like it’s shifted from any band-related business to something he said about her shopping addiction last weekend.

You know Nobara’s hung out with the entirety of this band before, since she pretty much forcibly adopted Megumi and Yuji in their shared gen. ed. classes, but Ino is apparently nowhere near as used to her chaos as you are. He stares at her back for a second, trying to process the rambling she just threw at you, and then nods slowly.

“She’s—sorry,” you say sheepishly. “Ah. Yeah. She means well.”

“Right. Uh, you’re really—you’re really good,” he says with a nervous smile your way. “Talented, I mean. I haven’t seen someone drum like that in…”

“Hey!” Yuji squawks, and Megumi grabs him by the elbow and pulls him away, Nobara on his other side.

“Thanks,” you say softly, trying to put Ino at ease with a warm smile. “You’re really good, too. I mean it.”

“Thanks,” he says, heat rising to his cheeks.

“D’you write? Those were some good bars.”

“Oh, yeah, uh. I do. Do—do you?”

“Homegirl’s our drummer and our lyricist,” Maki announces, draping herself across your shoulders. You don’t know where she even came from. “She is a woman of many talents.”

“I believe it,” Ino says with a shy smile. “You didn’t compete last year, right? I feel like I’d remember.”

The implications make you flush a little, and you’re grateful for the bar’s bad lighting. “No, yeah, this is our first year. I wasn’t even around for the competition last year. Or I’d probably remember you, too.”

Yuta spent some time abroad last fall, and you were just getting to know Nobara. It was probably a good thing you didn’t enter, because you were so caught up in work for the campus paper that you would’ve been stretched thin. Things this year have settled down with the strangely large wave of younger staffers. So this is your year—your time.

It’s Ino’s turn to be a little sheepish, and he reaches up and scratches the back of his neck, averting his gaze with a small smile. “You live with Fushiguro’s cousin, then?”

You nod. “You live with your bandmates? We’re right down the street.” Now that you think about it, you might’ve seen him skateboarding past your place a time or two.

He nods. “I thought I’d maybe seen you around. So—Skipper? Or Skip?”

“Either,” you laugh. “Uh, freshman year, we gave ourselves penguins of Madagascar names. That was before Nobara. Guess it just stuck.”

Ino laughs, bright. “That’s really good.” He seems to be easing into the conversation now, relaxing. “Which one was Rico? He’s my favorite.”

“Offensive,” you grin. “Toge, over there.” You point to him where he’s animatedly talking to Yuta, who looks about ready to go to sleep.

Ino nods. “Feels right.” He looks at you like he’s searching for something. “You can call me Takuma. If you want.”

“Takuma,” you echo. You like the way it sounds. “Cool.” You glance up at the stage, cleared out now. You’ll have to check on your drums in the back room at some point before you go home.

“Do you guys have music out?” Ino—Takuma—asks, and you turn, surprised.

“Uh, no. We’ve thought about it, but none of us are really the techy types. Do you?”

“Hell yeah!” Yuji blurts, apparently having escaped Megumi and Nobara. “First EP available now on all the usual streaming services.” He grins, then offers you a hand.

You shake it. He even shakes people’s hands like an overly excited dog. It’s infectious. “I think we’ve met in passing? Unofficially. But you sounded great up there. What’s your cymbal brand? Your hat is crisp.”

“Zildjian,” you say, laughing at his enthusiasm. The only right answer, you think, but don’t say. “You sounded great too. You have a brand?”

Yuji wrinkles his nose. “Uh, half of them are Meinl but the other half are Sabian? I kind of need to streamline them at some point. Zildjian seems like the move, honestly.”

Maki waves you over from the door to backstage, and you glance at Yuji and Takuma in turn, offering them a small wave. “I should run. It was good to meet you both. I’ll, uh—see you next Friday? Or around, I guess.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Yuji says with a mock salute, and Takuma chuckles, meeting your eyes.

“Sure thing,” he says. “Or around.”

When you’ve locked up the drums and hitched a ride back to the house with the girls, Maki turns herself around in the passenger seat to look at you.

“What?” You shift under her gaze, unrelenting and knowing.

“So, Shibuya Incident singer.” She raises a brow, and you know you’re blushing, but there’s not much you can do about it. At least it’s dark.

“What… about him?”

Maki just snorts and turns back around, evidently deciding teasing you once was enough. Nobara, though, has no such qualms.

“Oh my god!” she squeals, and Maki gently reminds her to pay attention to the road. “Do you want me to set you up? I can ask Itadori! Or Fushiguro! Or we can—”

You groan loudly, cutting her off as you dramatically flop back in the seat. “Nobara, please, please don’t.”

She sighs, long and drawn-out. “Puh-lease, Skipper, someone in this house has to get some.”

“Drop it and I won’t tell Toge you said that.”

This successfully diverts Nobara’s attention, and she spends the rest of the short drive wondering aloud if Toge actually thinks Hana Kurusu is hot or if he was just trying to annoy her. Nobara has some baseless grudge against Hana that you’re pretty sure is just because Nobara wants to be Hana.

At the house, she immediately starts bugging Toge about it, and eventually he runs into your room and slams the door for cover. Sometimes you’re very grateful your room has a lock. This is not one of those times.

“Toge,” you whine, pressing your forehead against the door. Nobara is crouched beside you, ready to catch him. “I wanna go to bed. Bro. Open the door.”

“Are you conspiring with the enemy?” he shouts from inside.

“No, but I’m about to be!”

He opens the door and Nobara launches herself at him, and amid the accusations of betrayal you manage to herd them out and close the door behind you, beelining for your bed and your headphones. There’s something you’re curious about.

Shibuya Incident, you type into Spotify, and there it is, their first EP. It’s called Over Duress, and on it is the first song they sang tonight plus a few you haven’t heard before.

You don’t intend to listen to the whole thing, really—you just can’t get that song out of your head, and usually listening to an earworm helps. But when you settle in, lights out and headphones on, you can’t stop.

All night his voice is in your ear, eyes boring into yours, singing too late now.

They’re—he’s—good. Really, really good.

You think it might be too late for you, too.

—

You’ve got your headphones on again, listening to Arctic Monkeys as you make your way down the sidewalk. Mondays will be the death of you. Your hour-and-a-half lecture ran late, and you have night class later. You need caffeine.

So caught up in 505, you almost don’t catch the guy in your periphery zooming down the path behind you on a skateboard. You move to the side to let him pass, but he slows down as he nears you, and you look up and realize it’s Takuma. Grinning, you tug your headphones down around your neck. He kicks the skateboard up and catches it in one hand, a messenger bag with a laptop sticking out underneath his other arm.

“Well, hey,” he says. “Look at us. Around.”

It’s odd to see him in this setting, broad daylight and an autumn chill in the air, so different from the dim bar, the artificially-lit stage.

“Hey.” He starts walking alongside you. “Coming from class?”

“Yeah, thank god that’s over. You?”

You hum in agreement. “Composition lecture.”

Takuma makes a tch sound with a click of his tongue. “Ah. Algorithms, for me.” He glances at you, then straight ahead, like you caught him doing something. “Uh, I was gonna grab coffee on the way back. You wanna come? If you’re not busy, I mean.”

You grin. “I was on my way there.”

Your favorite coffee shop is directly across the street from The Fix, and Takuma walks the rest of the way with you, his board in one hand.

“Algorithms,” you say. What a horrible-sounding class. “So are you—what, math? Computer science?”

“Comp sci,” he confirms, “and media production.”

“That’s sick. What do you wanna do?”

Takuma shrugs, but says, “I’m kinda gunning for something in music or audio production, but the comp sci’s more of a safeguard. Easier to get a software dev job than break into the music scene.”

The door to the coffee shop chimes as you push it open. “What about you? What’s your major?”

“Journalism.”

“Oh, that’s cool. You work for the paper or anything?”

“Yessir.”

“Write a story on me.”

If it meant learning more about Takuma, you’d honestly like to.

You pause to order your coffee, and while Takuma orders his you find yourself looking out at the bar across the street.

It looks so different during the day. People call it a shitty campus bar, you included, but honestly, it’s a nice establishment. The grunge is intentional, for the aesthetic appeal.

When you and Takuma both have drinks in your hand, you check the time on your phone and figure you can spare a few minutes. “Wanna sit for a sec?” You nod toward the high-top counter along the wall of windows facing the street.

“My honor,” he says, leading the way. You hop up on the green backed barstool, spinning it a little, and take a sip of your latte as Takuma settles in beside you. “How long you been drumming?”

You hum, tapping your fingers on your knee while you think. “The summer before I started middle school, I think?” That sounds right. You’d started taking lessons so you could join jazz band.

“Damn,” Takuma whistles. “That’s a while. No wonder you’re so good.” You laugh despite yourself, feeling the heat creep up to your cheeks the way it always does when someone compliments you.

“What about you? Been playing guitar for a while?”

He leans forward, wholly engaged in the conversation. “Yeah. My dad played, and I learned on his acoustic, and I spent all of middle school saving up for my own electric.”

“The one you have now?”

“Ah, no, I’ve got two, but I still have that one back at my place. I love that thing.”

Talking about music, it seems the hesitant, bashful side of Takuma slips away, replaced with this sunny boy who just wants to talk about what he loves. You find yourself wanting to feed into it.

“So, I listened to your EP.”

His entire posture seems to brighten, coffee forgotten on the countertop as he stares at you. “For real?”

“It’s really good. Seriously. I’m—when did that come out?”

“Uh, end of last semester. So like May?” He shrugs.

“Do you rent out a place in the city?”

“Actually, I can book out the campus studio spaces because I’m a production major,” he says, making a paper airplane out of his napkin. “We recorded our EP in there.”

“Techy.”

He smiles. “Yeah, comes with the major.” Turned to face you with the light from the window illuminating half of his face, you find yourself really looking at him—his mess of brown hair, deep but somehow bright eyes, the curve of his mouth, the line of his jaw. There’s an energy about him that just draws you in.

His phone lights up and he jumps a little. “Oh, crap! I forgot I was gonna take Itadori to the skate park. He wants me to teach him to kick flip before the snow comes.”

You doubt it’ll take him that long to figure it out—he’s a natural athlete. You’ve had to last-minute cover a track meet before, and his name took up half the damn page with all the records he set.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you say, downing the rest of your coffee. As much as you don’t want to leave, you’ve got a lot to get done before your night class. You push back your stool and sling your backpack over one shoulder.

Takuma seems to consider something, eyes bouncing from you to his phone to the street outside. “Actually, we’re recording again on Wednesday, for the new single. You should drop by. I can show you the ropes.”

You’re not sure what excites you more: the prospect of watching a live recording or having an excuse to see Takuma again.

“That’d be cool,” you say. “The new song? From Friday?”

“Yeah, Strike First,” he says. “Fushiguro wrote a lot of it—shit, actually, I’m not s’posed to say that.”

You laugh. “What? Why?”

He grins, a little conspiratorial. “Sometimes he shows up in my room and just shoves lyrics at me, and they’re always really good and deep and shit, and he says if I tell anyone he’ll kill me in my sleep. So. Secret poet.”

“Secret’s safe with me,” you promise. “So, Wednesday night.”

“Six thirty,” he nods, standing up and grabbing his skateboard from where he leaned it against the wall. You walk out into the bright mid-afternoon air side by side, starting to drift opposite directions on the sidewalk. You’re going to get some work done in the newsroom before your night class. The skate park is down the block from your place. And his.

You nod at his board. “Don’t die.” You’ve longboarded on campus several times, and the intersections are unforgiving.

He grins, standing on the board and starting to skate backward. “Me? Nah.” You roll your eyes but can’t keep the smile off your face, even as you turn away, his laughter bouncing down the path behind you.

—

That night in class, you get a series of messages from a number you don’t recognize, but you know who it is. They’ve sent you a gif of Skipper from Penguins of Madagascar.

unknown number: hey it’s ino! unknown number: or takuma. or whatever hahah unknown number: fushiguro got your number from maki i hope that’s not weird? i just wanted to send you the recording location in case you want to swing by wednesday unknown number: [Shared 1 Location Pin] unknown number: literally no pressure though unknown number: obviously

You turn down the brightness on your laptop, tucking your messages into the corner while the pitch document for class takes up the rest of your screen. Adding the number to your contacts, you glance surreptitiously up at your professor, who’s still doing something on the computer in the front of the room.

takuma: wait okay fushiguro just said what if maki gave him the wrong number as a joke takuma: idk if she would do that but now i’m paranoid takuma: if this isn’t skipper i’m SO sorry

Toge leans over and reads your messages, wiggling his brows at you when you shove him out of the way. He’s only in this class because you are—he took it as one of his writing electives for his comm major, and he spends most of it bothering you while you’re trying to work.

“Put the guy out of his misery, Jesus,” he whispers.

“Put me out of my misery, Jesus,” you say back. “Get me a new seat partner.” Toge gapes at you, affronted, and you smirk and go to text Takuma back.

you: oh my god no don’t worry it’s me LMAO you: yes i’ll swing by! that sounds so fun

The typing bubble pops up, disappears, pops up again. You try to hold in the laughter as your professor kicks off the next part of class, which he essentially runs like a newsroom in collaboration with the campus paper, since your editor is his TA. You’re in the middle of a features pitch session.

takuma: oh thank god takuma: cool!! takuma: hey thanks for coffee today. it was nice talking to you

Once again, Toge’s got his chin on your shoulder, reading the screen. His eyes widen and he moves so that he’s blocking your line of sight. Coffee? he mouths. You shove him out of the way with a hand on his face.

you: i had a good time :) you: okay i’m in class rn so just know i’m not ignoring you, i’m suffering at the whims of postsecondary education takuma: I’M SO SORRY takuma: thoughts and prayers takuma: ew why do you have class at 7 pm that’s cruel

It is kind of inconvenient. But a lot of your journalism classes wind up being nights, and you actually don’t mind it—you love your prof and the other juniors in your major. And you love your editor. You want to be her.

“Alright,” Kusakabe says. He’s got a doctorate, but he hates going by Dr. Kusakabe. “Back to the board. I want your bestmonth-long project pitches. Fushiguro here will put the best ones in print, so don’t mess around here. You want a spot at the paper next year? Impress her.” He nods at Tsumiki, who’s sitting in the back corner with a pen tucked behind her ear and her laptop and notepad ready.

“There are no horrible ideas,” she says.

Kusakabe points at her. “Not strictly true. She’s nicer than me.”

You already work for the paper, as does half of this advanced journalism class, but you’re gunning for Tsumiki’s job next year. So you need to impress.

“The Fix,” you say. Kusakabe points a whiteboard marker at you, then turns and scribbles it on the board in his horrible handwriting. He doesn’t let you raise your hands in class. Newsrooms work fast, he says. Better get used to it.

“Why?” Kusakabe asks. You’ve got your pitch ready. This isn’t your first rodeo. You hold up a hand, counting off on your fingers as you talk.

“One, it’s the most popular place on campus. Two, it has the lowest crime rate of any bar in the city. It’s run entirely by Jujutsu alumni. It’s time-relevant, because Battle of the Bands is going on right now, which also means good photo ops. We’ve been needing to cover it for years.”

Toge starts typing on his own laptop, and you know he’s not doing anything class-related. Sure enough, you get his message a second later.

freak no. 1: OKAY SHE’S A JOURNALIST freak no. 1: let me be your partner plsplsplsls freak no. 1: PLEASE i don’t wanna do a whole project story by myself i’ll do anything

He stares at your screen and glares at you when you don’t respond.

freak no. 1: why is that still my name. this is bullying. harassment even freak no. 1: freak no. 1 implies the existence of freak no. 2 freak no. 1: who is it freak no. 1: is it yuta freak no. 1: tell me it’s yuta

“Yes,” Kusakabe says. He’s not smiling—he rarely ever does—but you can tell he’s pleased. “That’s what I’m talking about. I want to know why a bunch of qualified alumni decided to dedicate their postgrad careers to running a college bar. Give me the backstory, give me the details. This is the kind of thing I’d put Fushiguro on if it wasn’t a conflict of interest.”

You twist around in your seat, craning to catch Tsumiki’s eye. She’s smiling, typing rapidly without looking at her keyboard.

“Yep,” she affirms. “But I can get you phone numbers. Good stuff, Skip.”

“Conflict of interest if I’m in a band?” you ask. She thinks for a moment, then shakes her head.

“Just don’t make it the story’s central focus and you should be fine. I’ve got some underclassmen covering the battle for event coverage practice, anyway.”

You flash her a thumbs-up and Kusakabe turns back to the board, half-dead marker hovering beneath his scrawled THE FIX: BAR, SAFE, ALUMNI

“Throw it at me,” he calls to the rest of the class. “What else you got?”

You click back into your thread with Takuma and send him another message.

you: freshie reporters are covering battle of the bands you: watch out for the novice press, mr frontman takuma: oh man takuma: i would not be focusing on me if i was them tbh

Toge kicks you under the table.

freak no. 1: cant believe youre getting a boyfriend before me freak no. 1: im leaving the country freak no. 1: god save the queen

—

It’s dead silent down here.

You’ve only been to the comm and media department a few times, mostly for electives or to drag Toge to lunch with you after one of his classes. But you’ve never had reason to venture all the way down, deep into the bowels of the huge building, to the production areas. Most of the studio spaces down here are padded with soundboards, making your trek down the hall an odd, isolated thing.

But then, after you’ve walked a while, you hear laughter, the idle plucking of guitar strings. Ah. You follow the noise to Studio C, where the door is cracked open, and sure enough, the band is there in full force, tuning and talking and warming up. Kirara is sitting in the spinning chair behind the soundboard while the blond from the bar plays with some dials, and the others are behind the window in the recording room.

“Hey,” you say, and Kirara looks up at you, offers you a nod.

“Girl drummer! What’s up?”

“Spying,” you reply. “Thought I’d get behind enemy lines.”

Kirara snorts approvingly and nods toward the man working on the sound dials, and he turns to glance at you. “You guys met?”

He sticks a huge hand out and you shake it. “I know you,” he says. “Or of you. I do stage stuff at The Fix. Name’s Hakari.”

“He does ‘stage stuff’ at the bar ‘cause he wants to follow me around,” Kirara says.

Takuma glances up through the recording space window, and when he sees you he grins and tugs off the headset. “You came!” he says as he drops his guitar into its stand and comes to stand in the open doorway between the two rooms. “Oh, you can shut that, it was open for you.” He nods to the door you came in, and you lean back on it, closing it.

“I’ve never been down here,” you admit. “It’s cool. And empty.”

“Yeah, it’s never busy Wednesdays,” Kirara says, shrugging. “All the sound and screen people are out working megachurch youth groups or whatever.” She kicks her clunky boots up on the table. “Kinji, did the backups sound good last time or should we rerecord them?”

“Skipper!” Yuji shouts. He waves and nearly smacks himself in the face with a drumstick. “Look! Zildjian!” He points to a crash cymbal that must be a new addition and you give him two thumbs-up, beaming.

Beside him, Megumi looks up from his bass and gives you a nod. Sometimes you forget he and Tsumiki are related—they look alike, but they carry themselves so differently. Your editor is all witty questions and chasing the news and juggling a thousand things at once, knowing everyone, always throwing out compliments like candy. Megumi keeps to himself, that quiet, broody bass player in dark colors. Writing secret song lyrics, apparently.

“So we recorded backup vocals last week,” Takuma explains, leading you over to the soundboard. You slide into Kirara’s spot as she hops up and grabs her guitar, plugging in in the next room. “Hakari handles the board while we’re recording, and then I mix it in post.”

“Cool,” you say, lost in all the switches and dials and colored lights.

“It’s less complicated than it looks,” Hakari offers, gesturing to the expanse of controls. “You really only use a third of ‘em.”

Yuji abruptly does a buzz roll, and you look up in time to see Megumi roll his eyes.

“That’s the hey Ino, we’re waiting on you, you fucking slacker drum roll,” Kirara drawls without looking up.

“I feel loved.” Takuma smiles at you and darts into the other room, closing the door behind him, and you lean back in the spinning chair. Hakari hands you an extra headset and you slip it over your ears with a grateful nod.

“Alright,” he says, leaning to speak into a mic that must carry through to the band. “Give me a chorus or somethin’ so I can test these levels out.”

They play part of the first song on the EP, and then Hakari goes through one by one and makes some minor adjustments until he deems them ready to go.

“Okay,” he says, glancing at Kirara. “Strike First, take one, in three, two…” He trails off and presses a button, and Kirara starts riffing like it’s nothing.

“Catch feels real quick,” Ino half-sings, half-says, picking up his own guitar. “And they go real deep. Try to burn ‘em out.” He looks up at you through the window. “But I’m half asleep.” Megumi is laying down a steady, bouncing bassline. “With her face in my head, and her voice in my ear, and her warmth in my bed, but she’s not really here, oh!”

Megumi and Kirara have indeed already recorded the backup vocals, and Hakari scales them up as they play. Intoxicating, in-intoxicating, oh she’s…

Yuji’s crash does sound better, and you find yourself nodding your head along to the beat, watching Hakari run the soundboard, watching the band in their element in the recording space.

The first time they stop just before the bridge, and they talk among themselves and mess around with some adjustments before starting again.

“We’re all cursed, so I, I strike first.” The track finishes with a single, hard kick. You wait until Hakari switches off the recording and clap. Takuma smiles brightly behind the window.

“What’d you think?” he asks, his voice crackling in your ear. “Any tips?”

You hum, leaning into the mic Hakari offers. “You sound great!” you say. “Yuji, save that sick fill for the prechorus leading up to the bridge. The syncopated one. The buildup will pay off.”

Half the art of drumming is knowing when to lay back and when to bring the energy. It’s one thing to go crazy drumming covers for a YouTube channel, which you’re pretty sure Yuji does, but it’s another to play in a band setting, trying to bring out the best in everyone else’s parts. You’ve seen so many drummers get so excited about playing fast and loud that they give too much too soon, and it makes the peak of the song less gratifying. It took you a long time to learn that.

“Oooh,” Yuji says, clicking his sticks together. “You’re right.”

Kirara jumps off her stool, spinning to face him. “What did I say? That exact thing. Three times before.” She points at you, then turns to face you, smiling good-naturedly. “He’s like one of those kids whose parents have been telling them the same thing for years, and then their favorite teacher says it and they act like they’re hearing it for the first time.”

“What? When did you say that? Kirara—”

But everyone’s laughing, and Yuji eventually gives into it too, grinning and tapping out a swing beat on the rims just to do something with his hands.

“Okay, run it again,” Kirara says, settling herself on her stool again. “Kinji?”

Hakari nods, and they launch back into the song. They do three more full runs before they agree they’ve got it. “Cool,” Hakari says. “Ino, you want the drive?”

“Please,” he says, and then takes off the headset and starts putting away the guitar.

“Hey,” Yuji says brightly, after he’s packed up the kit. “You should come over, invite Kugisaki and your bandmates. I need to fight someone who isn’t Ino in Super Smash Bros.”

It sounds fun, and it’s right down the street—Nobara would kill you for saying no. You got most of your class work done while Kusakabe was on another one of his journalism ethics rants that you can quote in your sleep, and your only major project now is The Fix. Not much you can do about that on a Wednesday night.

“Sure,” you say, and Takuma appears beside you, guitar case on his back.

“Sure what?”

Yuji bounces on the balls of his feet. “She’s coming over! And inviting her friends!”

“Like, the whole band?” you clarify. “Is that—”

“YES!” Yuji exclaims. “Pleeease, Skipper? I love new friends. We’re basically neighbors anyway.” You glance at Takuma, trying to gauge his reaction. He looks excited about the idea, so you figure it’ll be fine.

“Okay,” you relent, and Yuji basically tackles you in a hug. “Woah, okay! I’m gonna swing by the house first. I’ll see who’s around and drag them down the street.”

“Tell Kugisaki I have to decimate her in Smash. I want to see her face when she loses.”

“You park in the side lot?” Takuma asks, adjusting the strap of his guitar case. You shake your head, pointing to your longboard in the far corner of the room. You don’t have a car on campus, but it’s usually not an issue since three of your housemates do. “No way. You skate?”

“Just longboard. Never really mastered the skateboarding thing.”

“Oh, I can teach you!” His grin is infectious. You could’ve had one of the girls drop you off tonight, or Yuta, but honestly, you were kind of hoping for a reaction like this. Was it practical to board halfway across campus alone in the dark? Maybe not. Not like you haven’t done it before. But looks like it’s paying off.

“I’ve got the truck out back,” Hakari says. “Anyone want a lift?”

Yuji shakes his head. “Brought my car for the drums. And Fushiguro.” You politely decline, and Takuma holds up his board in answer.

Hakari nods as he shuts down the soundboard. “Sounds good.”

You open the door and Takuma follows you out, the hallway feeling largely different with someone else filling the space.

“So, what’d you think?”

“That was awesome,” you say honestly. “I don’t know how you guys do the technical side of things, but it’s cool.”

Outside, the two of you drop your boards to the ground and push off, careening down the long campus sidewalks.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know you had a longboard,” Takuma says as you round a corner, you shifting your weight to your heels as he charges ahead of you with hands in his pockets like he’s not balancing on a board with a guitar strapped to his back. “How come you’re never at the skate park?”

You shrug, putting a foot to the pavement again to give yourself some more momentum. Truthfully, the skate park has always just felt daunting to you—not because you know about the drugs getting exchanged under the ramps, but because all you can do is board. No tricks, no half-pipes, nothing crazy, and everyone there is always so off the walls you’d feel like an idiot trying to teach yourself.

“You should come with sometime,” he says. “I took Itadori today. He already learned how to kick flip. He’s stupid athletic.”

You grin, theory proven correct, and turn onto the side street your house is on. Takuma slows down when you kick your board up, and you start up the small sidewalk leading to the green front door. “See you in a minute?”

He grins, skating backward again down the street toward his place. “Yes, ma’am.”

The house is small, but you chose it for the basement space with rehearsals in mind. It’s small, but you’ve made it your own. Yuta’s rapidly growing collection of plants sits in a line along the kitchen windowsill. Nobara’s put Polaroids up all over the place, which Toge regularly replaces with printed memes and then times how long it takes her to notice. Your record player sits in the corner of the living room, the stand beneath it overflowing with vinyls the five of you have amassed.

This is all there when you open the door. But unexpectedly, so is Maki, standing in the kitchen with her arms crossed, looking at you expectantly. Nobara shouts, “Is she home? Skipper!”

It takes you a second to clock that Yuta and Toge are also waiting for you, Toge hanging upside down on the couch through the doorway and Yuta leaning against the wall.

“Uh, hi?”

“Howwasyourdate?” Nobara gushes, and you feel your face go flaming.

“Date? Nobara, his whole band—”

“Nooo!” she groans, raking a hand through her hair. She plants a hand on each of your shoulders, staring at you pleadingly. “I am so bored. This is the most exciting thing to happen since Muta asked Miwa out. Have mercy.”

Muta—that’s the Black Flash bassists’s name. You vaguely remember Nobara being over the moon when he got together with Miwa last year.

“How did you even know where I was?”

All four of them answer in unison, “Google calendar.”

You laugh and pry Nobara’s hands off your shoulders, feeling warm all over. God. You forgot having a crush was this fucking embarrassing. Over Nobara’s shoulder, you look helplessly at Maki, who has decided to be of no help.

“Okay, take a breath.” You make your way into the living space, Maki’s gaze following you from the counter and Nobara quite literally following you. “Don’t any of you have homework?”

Toge pulls himself up dizzily, evidently done with the blood rush of hanging upside down. He points at Yuta and says, “That man has never procrastinated anything in his life. You know she has it done.” Here, he points to Maki. “And Nobara and I have priorities. Like your love life.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. Toge already filled them all in on the texts he read in your night class, and they’ve all been teasing you ever since. Well, mostly him and Nobara. But you see the little smirks and glances Maki and Yuta exchange whenever Takuma’s name is brought up.

Nobara, to put it lightly, loves love. She texts your group chat any time she makes eye contact with a potential suitor, and whenever she catches wind of a possible relationship, she wants every detail. You don’t really care to inform the whole house of every interaction you’ve had with Takuma. Not because it doesn’t excite you—part of you just, weirdly, wants this to yourself.

And part of you is trying not to get your hopes up.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need you all to calm down. You’ll scare him off, if you keep up like this.”

“And you definitely don’t want us to scare him off?” Maki confirms, sounding almost bummed. “I am really good at that.” Yuta nods solemnly.

You glance at Nobara, who’s staring at you knowingly. “No,” you admit, sheepish. “I would rather you not.”

Lovers, Nobara mouths, and you push her away.

“Well, if you’re not busy, I’m going to his place,” you say, and put your hand over Nobara’s mouth before she can scream, “and you’re coming with.” You glance around at the rest of your friends. “All of you.” Nobara glares until you pull your hand away from your mouth.

“Yuji wants to beat your ass in Smash,” you tell her, and she smirks.

“Uh-huh. He’d like that, wouldn’t he?” She practically yanks your backpack off your shoulders and pushes you toward the front door.

“Okay, everybody out, let’s go! Operation Get Skipper—”

“I will drag you back into that house.”

“I said nothing,” Nobara smiles sweetly. And the five of you make your way down the street.

—

Yuji’s car is in the driveway, a bright red Hyundai. You can tell it’s his partially because it’s bright red and partially because you can see a few cymbal stands sticking up in the rear windshield. A truck is parked on the curb, and you figure it’s probably Hakari’s.

Nobara leads the way up to the front door, the only one of you who’s been here before. Unless Maki was visiting her cousin for something, but you don’t think so.

“Itadori!” Nobara shouts, and the door swings open to reveal Yuji, tousled hair and eager grin and all. “I’m here to beat your ass. Get on the Wii.”

“Yes!” Yuji shouts triumphantly, two fists pumping the air.

The house the band is renting out is functionally the same as yours, but it couldn’t look more different. There are mismatched string lights everywhere, dark tapestries on the walls that scream Kirara. Old band posters are plastered to half the available wall space, and a JBL speaker is blasting a song you’ve never heard.

“Hey,” Kirara calls from her place on the couch, leaning into Hakari. Yuji and Nobara are already planted on the floor, preparing for Smash Bros, Toge settled in between in an already futile effort to prevent violence.

“Hey, Okkotsu.” Megumi nods. “Maki. You haven’t been here before, right?”

“It’s not a college boy dump,” she responds. “So proud of you.”

“Mostly his doing, honestly,” Kirara says. “He’s a neat freak.”

You wave at her and Hakari. “You both live here?”

“Nah,” Hakari says. “I’m with Panda on the other side of campus.” Kirara’s the sole girl in the house, then. Brave woman.

“Skip!”

You turn to find Takuma leaning in the entryway to the living space. “Hey,” you grin. His gaze moves to where Yuji and Nobara have selected their characters.

“Oh, this’ll be good.” He moves to the open space on the couch and glances at you, and you follow. There’s plenty of room, since Kirara is basically on Hakari’s lap.

There’s a papasan chair in the corner that Yuta tries to insist Maki take, but in the end he winds up sitting in it with his legs tucked up under him and Maki sprawls out on the floor in front of him. You nearly jump out of your skin when Yuji screeches, and you blink and realize Nobara has already decimated him.

“Jesus,” you say.

“How did you—what was that? How did you do that?” Yuji demands. Toge, evidently having decided his mediation effort is fruitless, scoots back. You grin. Nobody can ever beat Nobara in Smash Bros. You would know.

“That’s what you get for picking Sonic, you freak.” Nobara turns up her nose. She picks Link every time.

“Do not slander the good name of Sonic in this house.”

“Okay, give it to me,” Toge says, grabbing the remote from Yuji. He levels Nobara with a serious look, chooses Daisy, and says, “Prepare to die.”

Takuma laughs beside you, and you’re suddenly aware that your thighs are almost touching, his warmth emanating off him. You try to focus on the game as Link proceeds to destroy Daisy within an inch of her life, but it’s hard now that you’re hyper-aware of your proximity.

“I like your place,” you tell him, and he smiles.

“Yeah? I do too. All the tapestries are Kirara’s.”

You fist bump her. “Good taste.”

“I know,” she says.

“What?” Toge shrieks. He groans, dramatically falling forward and burying his face in the carpet. “No. You cheated. Again.”

“You’re an idiot,” Nobara says, and they play again. “You’re not gonna win.”

Toge scoffs. “I would if you’d play Just Dance with me, coward.”

“Hey.” Takuma nudges you with a knee. “You wanna see how I mix the tracks?”

You glance at Nobara, entirely engaged in her game, and figure if you’re going to safely escape the room with Takuma, the time is now. “Sure.” He stands and you follow, ignoring Maki’s knowing gaze boring into your back as you go. The laughter and shouts and music follow you up the narrow stairs, and you hope this can be a new kind of normal, this mishmash of people who seem to get along so well.

Takuma’s room is at the end of the hall, and there’s no doubting how insanely Takuma it is. A skateboard—covered in faded stickers, different from the one he used today—hangs on the wall, there’s an acoustic in the corner, and the lights are all LED and green and red and purple. He leads you over to his monitor setup along the wall, where something is just finishing uploading—the drive Hakari gave him from the recording session.

He pulls over a stool and pats the desk chair for you, and you’d argue but he’s already opening up Logic, throwing in the tracks.

And then you lose time.

It’s already dark out, and you have no measure of the hours passing as Takuma locks in, nodding his head along to the beat, walking you through every setting and adjustment he makes as he mixes the new single, his own voice echoing back at you on the vocal track. You ask questions that are probably stupid and he answers like you’ve asked the smartest thing in the world.

His face is aglow in the colored lights of his room, and he’s animated as he walks you through the process. You point to the backup vocals track and ask a question, and he wraps his hand around yours and guides it to point at the corresponding change he makes, and before you know it the track is done and he’s sliding a pair of headphones over your ears, looking at you hopefully as the song comes through.

It sounds amazing. Something about listening with headphones on is all-consuming, and there’s something intimate about the way you’re sat facing one another, one of your knees between both of his, not breaking eye contact as you listen.

Kirara and Yuji’s backups flow so seamlessly into the rest of the recording, loud enough to hear but quiet enough not to pull away from Takuma’s voice as he sings, “Preemptively intoxicating, I can hear the heartbreak saying, ooh, I’m on my way.”

He smiles at you, soft, excited, his knee bouncing to the beat of the song even though you’re the one with the headphones on. “So you strike first, strike first ‘cause she’s not gonna stay.”

You tug the headphones down around your neck, the melody still bouncing around in your ears. The curtains flutter above the rickety AC unit in the corner, casting flickering shadows over the monitor, over the wall, over Takuma. There’s no more music, but it is far from silent. The sounds of your friends drift up the stairs and through the cracked door, the computer’s kicking up a fuss with its fan, your breathing seems louder than normal.

“Damn,” you say softly, like speaking any louder will break this—whatever this is.

“Yeah?”

Your faces are very close.

“Yeah.”

A scream from downstairs makes you jump, knocking your knees with Takuma’s, and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks.

“Yuta, control your child!” Nobara screeches, and you presume that by that she means Toge. “Maki? Skipper, where did you go? AGH!”

You laugh, pushing to your feet. “We should probably…”

“Yeah,” Takuma says quickly, too quickly, standing and setting the headphones back on the desk. “Yeah, totally.”

The rest of the night passes in a wash of laughter and Smash Bros and half-eaten bags of chips and yes, eventually, Just Dance, which Toge does win by a significant margin. Yuta, Maki, and Megumi spend a lot of time catching up in the corner, and Kirara and Nobara get along great. You realize far too late that putting Toge and Yuji in the same room was a horrible decision. They feed off each other’s chaos, a pair of little speed demons. You fear they’ve just become best friends.

At some point Kirara and Hakari disappear, and when you’re all finally making your way out, dreading your morning classes, you turn to Takuma, hovering in his doorway.

“Thanks,” you say. “For showing me the mixing. And recording. And—yeah.” You flush. God, you’re usually so good at talking to people. When did you become this socially inept?

“Anytime,” he says, and you know he means it. “Hey, if you guys are ever interested in putting some music out… Hakari and I could help.” He scratches the back of his neck a little self-consciously.

“Wait, for real?”

“Yeah! I mean, Hakari goes wherever Kirara goes. And she likes you. You’re really good, I think you’d really take off on streaming services.”

Kirara likes you? That weirdly means more to you than any of the other bandmates’ approval. Something warm blooms in your chest.

“Skip, c’mon,” Maki calls over her shoulder, and you jump and realize the rest of your housemates are already down the drive.

“Ah, yeah! I’ll talk to them about it. Thanks, Takuma.” You beam and turn to catch up to your friends, feeling like a stupid high schooler with a crush.

You’ve been rehearsing at your place every day this week, even though you don’t know where you’ve landed in the battle bracket yet—not until this Friday. You’re trying to nail down the perfect set, and Maki and Yuta have come up with this great instrumental, but you keep coming up short—you’ve been a useless lyricist lately, all up in your own head about pointless, trivial things.

Now, though—you feel like you have some words to get out. Feelings to get out, if you can just figure out how to articulate them.

In your tiny room, you find yourself thinking about him—getting coffee with him, skateboarding, the lighting in his bedroom, the bar—The Fix, you think.

And you pull out your notebook and start to write.

directory | next | meet shibuya incident | meet cursed technique | meet black flash | meet the rest of the contestants | welcome to the fix

jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro @bisforbuse @risararelywrites

a/n: no, these are not real songs. yes, they are from the notes app archives. oops. ANYWAY SORRY IT’S 10K WORDS I’M HYPERFIXATING LMK WHAT YOU THINK

[the-ace-with-spades]

From the just hold my hand scenes that (probably) won't be written

Ice can't talk, he hasn't been able to for a while, not long after the diagnosis even, but since his last surgery, he knows he will never be able to again.

He and Mav learned sign language as soon as this became a possibility — they attended lessons together, sometimes online, and they practiced with each other, until they became fluent enough to communicate daily using sign. It became faster than Ice writing whatever he wanted to say and so it became primarily how they talk if it's just the two of them — by the time Bradley enters their life again and brings in a whole new husband and four (and counting) kids into it, they use sign language every day casually.

Bradley and Jake's middle daughter, Ronnie — Ice is her favorite, has been since the day they've met. Mostly due to his calm and soothing demeanor and just the aura of safety he has to him, but also because she's a quiet kid who doesn't talk much — she has a bit of a speech development problem that isn't too worrying at her age but has to have an eye kept on it — and often gets buried under the hyperactivity of her older sisters who talk a mile a minute or under her baby brother who craves attention and often gets it because he's cute as a button when he's clingy. But Ice always took the time to pay attention to her even if she was quiet or if she was not doing anything, even if it was just sitting next to her or holding her or basically looking at her expecting her to show him what she was doing or what she liked. People outside of her basic family (her parents and her memaw) rarely get her as much as he does.

So she's maybe a little clingy about Ice.

And you know, when it kind of settles that Mav and Ice are going to be in their life, Bradley promised himself he'd at least try to learn sign. He's terrible at it, he's always been not that good at languages and despite having the finger flexibility that a lot of learners struggle with, he just doesn't have the muscle memory that lets him have a smooth learning.

When Ronnie sees him practicing at home and asks why he looks like grandpa Mav when he talks to grandpa Ice and he explains that it's how Ice speaks (which Ronnie never thought about because she's a kid and she thought grandpa Mav could just understand Ice so well without speaking out loud because he loves him so much, the same way her parents did with her), she gets obsessed.

Next time Bradley takes the kids for some playtime with their grandpas (while Jake and Bradley have some me-time together...), Ronnie gets all shy when Bradley says the well-known phrase of, "Go say hi to your grandpa," and she signs to Ice.

It's just a little clumsy "Hello, grandpa," the simple wave of a hand looks a bit too much like a salute and maybe she adds a third tiny arch as the sign for grandpa finishes but Ice gets it and it gets everyone — especially Ice — a little teary-eyed as well.

[Also, sign language often has the same kind of insider linguistic slang families have when using spoken languages (you know, your sister once calls the terrace door windwoor when she's five and your whole family still calls it that even though she has kids of her own and a corpo job now... this but with hand signs) and I love the idea of Ice encouraging her to make those mistakes and then having them become only their inside vocabulary that no one else gets]

[shirefantasies]

Hi!! I just found your blog and I love the way you write your headcanons! I was wondering if there's anyway you could write how each of the company in the hobbit would cuddle? or how they'd show physical affection? If not, that's fine, just thought I'd ask! (sorry if this is a bit weirdly worded I don't actually request things often lol, I've just been in such a the hobbit mood and found your blog and loved it immediately.)

Thank you sweetie and I'm so glad you love my headcanons 🥰 but this imagine YUS YUS YUS!!! My Hobbit mood has been coming in big ol waves of late heck yeah 🫡

Thorin’s Company + Physical Affection

Balin

✧ If you fall and he catches you, you may notice the way his hands wind around your waist and keep you for just a moment longer than absolutely necessary.

✧ Always the one who does your fastens for you and helps you into your coat, lingering touches therein as well.

✧ Sometimes his hand will just creep over as he listens to you, taking yours and drawing encouraging circles upon the back of it.

✧ Pulls you closer into his chest in the cold, whispering that it's alright, don't be shy as you melt into him.

✧ Almost always at your side with a hand placed gently but firmly upon your shoulder, half guiding, half guarding.

Dwalin

✧ This guy...is not very physically affectionate. You're going to have to coax it out of him like a stray cat.

✧ He enjoys sparring with you if you're down and you may notice he prefers pinning you or wrestling you down to, say, literally any other member of the company, but that feels like something beyond affection...

✧ "Are you hurt? Let me see." For the strength of his hands, he cradles your head, your arm, whatever it may be, so gently and warmly.

✧ Acts exasperated when you show up at his side to cuddle, accepts only “because it’s so cold, I suppose it’d be right”, then wraps his arms around you and holds you against his chest as tight as he can.

✧ Seated at a table, Dwalin will keep an arm draped over the back of your chair at all times.

Thorin

✧ His hands go to you first after any sort of danger, holding you back initially then laying a hand on your shoulder as he checks you over, ensuring no harm came to you.

✧ Asks for your hand, taking it in his when your travels get difficult so as to lead you along the safest path he can find.

✧ Wraps you up in his coat, his hands sliding down your arms after he drapes it upon you, staying like that for a moment with his chest to your back.

✧ Big spoon. That feeling of care, of presiding over your warmth and safety and everything Thorin can give absolutely translates to your sleep, your solace. It means the world to him if he can be your comfort.

✧ Even in idle times, Thorin tends to stand with a hand wrapped around your waist, not grasping you tightly or restricting you in any way, but simply enough to keep you near and make it clear that you are his.

Oin

✧ Offering massages is basically a love language for him. The others are always asking him and sometimes he gets annoyed or just does it grudgingly, but when it is you? He takes his time, uses your favorite oils, savors the connection between you two and your hums of pleasure.

✧ Oin loves asking you for help just as an excuse to have you near, your hands darting beneath his to grab supplies or holding down his work, his own coming to cover yours as often as he can spare them.

✧ In the moments you get to sit next to each other, his hand will gingerly rest over yours. If you tense up at all, you can feel his grip tighten just a little bit, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

✧ Likes loose cuddling, simply your arms draped over his side as you rest alongside each other. Also not-so-secretly enjoys being the little spoon- indulge him every now and again!

✧ Has been known to give your cheeks the occasional affectionate pinch or squeeze, just smiling and chuckling giddily to himself at the sight of you before he leans in for a kiss.

Gloin

✧ Always fussing over your hair, whether it's getting things out of it or even knowing its entire care routine and performing it for you if you let him, his hands dressing it practically reverently.

✧ Gets bored, forgets himself and plays with your hands. If you wear rings, he probably slides those around or spins them a bit. He enjoys intertwining your fingers again and again and keeping both of your hands in his as he peers at you.

✧ When simply standing around, he sometimes will stand behind you and drape his arms over your shoulders as if claiming you.

✧ Will practically wrestle you into position if you try to make him little spoon. You have to get him tired enough before he’ll accept not being the one to hold you.

✧ Grabs you up into the biggest, bone-crushing in the best of ways, bear hugs you've ever had the pleasure of being swept into.

Bifur

✧ Speech can be so difficult, the feeling of trying without success so frustrating that a meaningful touch is simpler and infinitely more calming. A favorite of his is a simple hand on the shoulder, a gesture of care.

✧ He also loves teasingly elbowing you to get your attention, whether it's to show you something or just to say hello!

✧ Tracing each and every line and curvature of your face is his guilty pleasure; it is as though he is at work silently memorizing your every feature.

✧ Looser with cuddling, the feeling sometimes suffocating, especially if he has a nightmare. Rather than cage you in or be caged in, Bifur prefers the simple feeling of your hand upon his chest or your head leaned against his while you sleep.

✧ Absolutely loves decorating you, feeling like an attendant to royalty as he slides rings onto your finger, bracelets and necklaces he made around your neck or wrist. Such moments are some of the most tender between you, the way he looks at you afterward and the way his hands caress you after each beauty is set to magnifying yours.

Bofur

✧ Has a little habit of just taking your hand and twirling you when you stand together, almost as if you're dancing in place.

✧ When you truly are dancing, you know Bofur will be dipping you down for a kiss nearly every time!

✧ Cuddling is all over the place. Snakes his arms around you and pulls you into his lap when he’s feeling particularly merry. Lays facing you before sleep, your legs tangled together in the most wonderful mess.

✧ Bofur has this little habit of falling onto you when you’re laughing together, playfully shoving you before his hands fall into your lap or grab your knee.

✧ Hugs from Bofur often turn into him picking you up and spinning you around!

Bombur

✧ As I've mentioned, he is the best with a partner who has anxiety, basically becoming a living weighted blanket atop you.

✧ Though shy and subtle he can be with his initial affections, Bombur is very cuddly. The greatest cuddler, in fact. Your shared bedroll is the coziest one of the whole lot.

✧ Has been known to, upon being in a bolder mood, turn his head when you lean to kiss his cheek, capturing your lips instead! Has the biggest smile upon success, so you can never be upset.

✧ Pulls you into a hug the moment you say or do something cute.

✧ Great acts of service fellow as he is, Bombur will often offer things like scratching your back or rubbing tension from your neck as a means of getting closer while still providing for you.

Dori

✧ Small, subtle touches, like letting his hands cover yours when you accept the steaming mug of tea he hands you.

✧ He also loves running a thumb over the back of your hand when you sit side by side, sharing that one point of connection between you two.

✧ Always does a cute little tap to your knee after he laces up your boots for you, a little wink topping the endearing gesture off.

✧ The type who loves to lay with your heads against each other, cheeks brushing, especially as you look at the stars, discussing everything beneath the sun and very well likely some things not beneath it at all.

✧ Shocks you when you sit at a table and you feel his hand on your knee, and again when it moves up and down, tracing a little pattern on your thigh.

Nori

✧ I still maintain that Nori would be the main perpetrator of the classic yawning or stretching as an excuse to put an arm around you. Once you're pulled in, though? Good luck getting back out! You are nothing if not secure in his grasp.

✧ Cheekily sliding his hand into your pocket, especially if you have a back pocket, is his favorite.

✧ If there is any possibility of him not being able to hear you, Nori will lean in as close as he can, possibly even drawing you forward with a hand beneath your chin, grinning if you get flustered.

✧ Ideal cuddling position, you ask? Why, with him on top of you, obviously! Enough said.

✧ When it isn’t in your pocket, he nearly always has a hand at the small of your back when you walk. He occasionally uses it to guide you, but mostly he likes to run it up and down your spine, occasionally running his nails down too, giving you a cheeky look when he does it.

Ori

✧ Oscillates between being too shy to show physical affection and a natural propensity to misunderstand personal space. For example, he'll probably not want to kiss you in front of his older brothers lest they tease him, but when he gets excited about his latest drawing he practically throws his arms entirely around you to show you his sketchpad.

✧ Shares his scarf with you, winding the two of you both into its long, thick warmth and flushing as you lean in closer and closer beneath it.

✧ The kisses you share in private are almost desperate, hands clinging to whatever fold of fabric they can reach to draw each other in.

✧ Enjoys pretty much any way you lie together, facing each other, back to back, you name it, Ori is eager for it!

✧ Rubs your hands between his own to keep you warm, straightens your clothes up for you, little tending touches that lead to kisses upon your hands or head.

Fili

✧ Gives amazing hugs, pulling you into his arms and soothingly, lovingly sliding a hand up and down your back.

✧ So sweet, he loves swinging your joined hands between you both if you are granted the opportunity for a leisurely stroll.

✧ Always wants to be the big spoon when you guys cuddle, that position feeling much more protective of you, secure as he can hold you.

✧ Sneaks up behind you to cover your eyes, asking ‘guess who’ and chuckling at the way you startle if he catches you by surprise.

✧ Offers you his arm when you walk together and smiling when you link yours with his and rest your hand upon his upper arm.

Kili

✧ In love with physical affection. Who cares who sees you? Not this dwarven prince, that is certain! Completely unafraid to pull you into his lap and hold you, pride crossing his face.

✧ Pulls your joined hands into his pockets as you walk side by side.

✧ When he teaches you how to shoot, he guides you smoothly by the hips, hands running down your sides and along the length of your arms until you reach the proper stance.

✧ His favorite way to cuddle is you lain upon his chest, your head against his heart and right there for him to place kisses atop.

✧ You two are a tangled mess at fireside, someone’s legs always thrown upon the other’s lap.

Bilbo

✧ Rather than show you over-the-top affection, Bilbo is the sort to just stay glued to your side, joining you at the hip for even the most mundane tasks even if it’s under the guise of “getting a break from all the dwarves”.

✧ Similarly, he’ll offer to hold your hands “because it’s quite crowded” or “just so you don’t fall, it’s a bit steep here and all”.

✧ When you sit together at the fireside, he may get flustered but he absolutely loves it when you lay your head upon his shoulder.

✧ He also favors being little spoon, not that he would necessarily tell you that out loud, but you can feel the way he relaxes, hums in contentment against you.

✧ Bilbo gets surprisingly protective, though, shifting you behind him or moving you aside by your waist when danger strikes.

[aaronhotchswife]

Getaway

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

When Strauss gave each member of the team 4 days off, it's finally the opportunity to do what you guys talked about for months : a weekend getaway to a cottage.

Warnings : smut, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, alcohol consuming, suggestive language, minors DNI

Stars could be seen in the sky, fireflies in the woods. The team was sitting near a fire, talking and laughing. Sitting next to you was Hotch, jogging pants and a hoodie on him, his cologne filling your nose. You couldn't help but smile at his outfit, not really used to see him without a suit. You always found him beautiful and kind and everything but he was your boss so no matter how beautiful he was, he was out of reach. But it was weird how you missed him even if he wasn't yours. And maybe, you told yourself, that the worst way to miss someone is for them to be right beside you and you know you can't have them.

Derek and Emily were drinking vodka straight out the bottle, sharing with Garcia and JJ. When everyone was tipsy enough, Morgan proposed his favorite game ever : Truth or Dare.

It was not that you hated that game, but it's something you always played in a bar, without Hotch and Rossi so when he proposed that, you knew that maybe your deepest secret aka being in love with your boss while be out.

"Alrighhhht, babygirl, truth or dare ?" He asked, looking at Garcia.

"Mmmh, dare."

"I dare you to read, out loud, the last dirty test you send." He said giggling.

"You bitch chocolate thunder arghh." She sighed, opening her phone before speaking again, clearing her throat "I love when I’m ass up on the bed, and you’re balls deep in me."

JJ and Emily almost chocked on their drinks, Garcia being as red as a tomato and you're pretty sure you looked over Hotch to see his reaction.

"Well, that's direct." Rossi said chuckling.

"Alright, alright." She waved everyone with her hand. "My turn! Let's see...y/n, truth or dare ?" She asked.

"Truth."

"Did you finally had sex or are you still on the virgin side ?"

Your cheeks heated up automatically. You were a shy girl, not with your friends or family but you were "Spencer like" meaning that you didn't really know how to flirt and how to act around guys and all. Mostly everyone on the team knew you were a virgin, something that been said in a previous Truth or Dare game.

"Well unfortunately I am still a virgin." You responded, bringing your bottle of beer to your lips to take a sip, hoping it would make you less awkward.

"We should find you someone !" JJ exclaimed.

"It's okay, I'm not in a hurry." You laughed.

"Well, pretty boy over here is a virgin too, you could do it with him." Morgan said, talking about Spencer.

"I told you that in all confidentiality Derek. But sorry y/n, don't take it wrong but you're not really my type."

You faked a expression of hurt before speaking "Oh don't worry about that Spence, you're not really mine either."

Knowing that your type was sitting next to you.

"What's your type then?" Morgan teased.

"Woah easy there, one question at the time, wait for your next round."

When it was in fact again your time to answer a question, Emily asked who was your type, earning a high five by Derek at the same time.

"Well eum, tall, dark hair, older than me." You chuckled.

"Like Hotch?" Rossi laughed, getting a "shut it" look from Hotch.

You only responded by a laugh, wanting this moment to be over.

The next day, it had been settled that the team spend the day at the beach. You made sandwiches for everyone, packing drinks and chips. Arriving there, Morgan and Penelope ran to the water while you laid with JJ and Emily, trying to tan a bit. You felt naked, only with your little red swimsuit. Your gaze focused on Aaron, his chest in evidence, talking with Rossi about something you couldn't hear.

"C'mon man, you're drooling just by looking at her."

"You heard her last night, she wouldn't even admit I'm her type, I don't want to get rejected and look at that, Morgan's all after her anyway."

"Someone sounds jealous."

Morgan was in fact hitting on you, something he did often. You didn't mind, knowing that it didn't mean anything. Hotch saw you laughed at something Morgan said, making his jaw clenched involuntary. He knew Morgan was checking you out but who was he kidding. You were gorgeous with your hair tied in a low bun, sunglasses on your nose and your hot body in that pretty swimsuit. All he could think about was the conversation of yesterday, about you being a virgin, it was news for him. He told himself that if you let him, he would help you with that. It was not just physical for him, no. He grew up to care about you, to know how you took your coffee and to love hearing your laugh. You were his subordinate and he needed to be raisonnable so he never tried anything but if you let him a chance, maybe he would. He wasn't the type of guy to get in relationship often or to be a womanizer like Derek but he would go for a relationship if it meant to be with you.

After a game of beach volley where your team constituted of Hotch, JJ and Emily totally smashed the other one, everyone was getting hungry and the tacos restaurant near the beach seemed to call out your names.

Walking to the restaurant, Garcia noticed a little circus with some roller coasters.

"Omg guys!! We need to do them !"

Everyone looked hype to do it except you. You're not scared of a lot of things in life, except spiders and well...roller coasters. But good thing that you're a good actress and can hide the fact that you already wanted to cry. Aaron was there so you told yourself that you needed to look tough.

You sat next to Hotch, buckling up. You tried to focus on Hotch's cologne, while the guy checked the seat belt. When the roller coaster started, your hands were gripping the lap bar in front on you so hard making your knuckles turn white. Hotch must have noticed because his murmured something in your ear.

"You're alright ?"

You couldn't even looked in his eyes, yours fixed in front of you, trying to stay calm and tell yourself that nothing bad will happen.

"M'fine, just scared."

He laughed, his laugh warming your heart. You couldn't get enough of it. He grabbed your hand, murmuring "maybe this will help."

It did in fact help. Well, the roller coaster was still scary and you still hated it but with Aaron's big hand in yours, every thing was possible. He kept his hand in yours during all of the ride, often checking up on you to see if you were okay.

Hotch's little trick didn't go unnoticed because later, when you were waiting for your food, Morgan leaned next to you teasing you with some "yeah I saw what boss man did earlier, holding your hand." You looked up in the air, annoyed, responding with a "I'm scared of roller coasters and he saw right through me."

The same night, when you went to bed, you fell asleep with the feeling of Aaron's hand in yours.

The next day, the boys went golfing while the girls...and Spencer -who wasn't much of a gofler-went shopping. You told them all about the day before, and Spencer was quick to tell you statistics about how often he was looking at you. Even if it made you bubbly, you tried not thinking of it, only thinking that he was only being a good friend and that he checked on you like everybody else.

After dinner that night, the team sat next to the fire, a bit like the first night. Morgan who brought his guitar was scatting some words making Garcia laugh.

"Hey, y/n, weren't you in a glee club in high school ?" Garcia asked, her head resting on Derek's shoulder.

"I was actually. I'm a former theatre kid."

At this point of the night, most of the team was already a little bit drunk. So when JJ proposed you to sing something, you agreed with all the liquid courage in your body.

You took the guitar, positioning it on your legs, and started to play one of your favorite song. Hotch who was in front of you couldn't keep his eyes off you and he's not sure if he's dreaming when you sing the words looking at his eyes. Your voice sweet as honey filling his head. He could hear it all his life.

'Cause all of the small things that you do

Are what remind me why I fell for you

And when we're apart, and I'm missing you

I close my eyes and all I see is you

And the small things you do'

After a while, everyone went to bed, leaving you alone with Hotch, still siting near the almost dead fire. Neither of you were talking, only the nature sound could be heard. During the night, he moved to a seat next to you. His voice was the first one to break the silence.

"I didn't know you could sing...or play guitar."

"I can play piano too." You chuckled.

"You're perfect."

Another silence.

The temperature outside getting hotter.

"I'm sorry, I should've said that." He mumbled.

"It's okay. Really. Thank you I guess ?" You smiled to him. Your sweet sweet smile. The smile he would do anything to see.

Your gaze went from him back to the fire, your knees on your chest, while your head was laying on your knee, and in that moment, he swears he never saw you so peaceful. His eyes went from the fire back to you, taking you all in.

It was something he found himself doing too often. Whenever he could find a moment, an excuse. His gaze would linger on your frame, your face, your lips. The lips he dreamed of kissing for the past year. He wondered how good they taste, knowing that they'll probably soft. He tried thinking about something else than the fact that his feelings are probably one-sided but nothing helps and he can feel himself getting hard thinking about you. He needed you closer, so when he put his hand on your knee, your eyes lifted up to meet his, the same smile you had earlier still on your face.

His eyes made their way to your lips, back to your eyes before leaning him gently. As he expected it, your lips were soft, sweet from the drink you had earlier. His hands found their way to your cheeks while yours tentatively rested on in back. You had kissed guys before, not a lot, but it was never like this. It was never that mind blowing. You pulled away in need for air and Aaron's forehead rest against yours. His fingers grazing your cheek.

"You're so beautiful y/n. If you knew how I was dying to do this." He murmured.

"Aaron." You responded, breathless.

"I love your eyes, and your lips, and the way you srunch your nose when something makes you shy." And with that, you scrunched your nose, your eyes still looking at his.

"Like that." He said, closing the space between you and him.

"About what you said yesterday..." Your heart skipped a beat, kinda afraid of what he'll tell you. "I would like to be your first, if you want, of course." He laughed softly.

"You don't have to Aaron."

"I want to. I've been thinking about this moment for so long and to be the first one to make you feel that good...I want it y/n."

In that moment, you don't know what got over you but you took his hand, leading him inside, to your bedroom. Still holding Aaron's hand, he led you to your bed, carefully laying you on it, his lips not leaving yours. You could feel the bulge in his pants against your heat and it made you grind against him. His lips made their way to your neck, under your ear while his hands made their ways to the hem of your shirt, pushing it further up, asking for the permission to undress you. When you nod, Aaron takes off your shirt and pants before kissing you again, keeping eye contact with you as he kissed down your chest to your stomach, down to your thighs as he pushed them apart slowly. He left small kisses on top of your underwear before making his way back to your mouth, his fingers grazed your back to undo your bra, before taking off his clothes.

"Are you sure you want to do this ?" He asked concerned.

"Yes, please Aaron. I want you, I want this." You murmured, wanting him to make you feel good.

He hooked his fingers to the hem of your panties, before kissing the top of your heat, his lips against your folds, slowly licking up and down, pushing one finger in, then two, until you were collapsing beneath him. Your hand reached his hair, and when he looked up to you, you swore you could've come just with that sight. Sitting up, your hand found the hem of his boxers, pushing them down slowly, your breath getting caught when you saw how big he was. Tentatively, you put your hand around it, making up and down movements.

"Fuck." He moaned, his head falling back.

"I wanna taste you." You said, before kissing his tip, leaving small licks on it. His hand grabbed your hair, pushing your mouth down a little bit. Although, it wasn't long before Aaron took your mouth away.

"Did I do something wrong ?" You asked with a small voice.

"No, fuck no, I was gonna cum and I want to wait." He reassured you, pushing you gently on the mattress.

"Put your hands on my shoulders and squeeze if it hurts, and tell me if you need to stop, okay ?" He instructed.

"Okay."

Aaron slowly pushed the tip of his cock into your aching hole. He took a sharp breath as he pushed into you, feeling the walls of your pussy clench around him. When you squeezed his shoulders a little bit, he stopped to look it your eyes, seeing small tears in the corner of them.

"Hey, hey it's okay, you're doing really great baby."

The sweet name made your pussy clench harder against him and Aaron had to fought not to push hard into you.

"Move, please, Aaron, move please."

And with that, the pain made its way to pleasure and with Aaron sweet sounds in your ear, and each stroke of him against that perfect spot made you grip the headboard just that little bit tighter. "Aaron." And the way you say his name, that breathy moan that spills from your lips, the knowledge that he is the reason for it, pushes him right to the precipice.

"Thank you for that." You smiled, looking up at him. His hand stroking your shoulder and your hair.

"Thanks to you, love." Are the last words you hear before falling asleep, in the arms of the man you love.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Azriel’s Girls

Azriel x Reader, Elain x Reader, Elriel x Reader

Angst - Smut - Fluff

Azriel and Y/N have been friends for years, as they navigate a newfound relationship their world is turned upside down when Rhys is taken under the mountain. A relationship of romance and passion simmers into one of endurance and loyalty as fifty years pass. But when a certain Archeron sister arrives in Velaris, Y/N must address a part of herself that she never thought would come to fruition. Will Azriel and Y/N’s relationship survive or will the revelation be too much for the Shadowsinger to handle?

Warnings/Labels: smut, alcohol, poly, FFM relationship, language, eighteen and older only

“Az! This is our song! Come on.” The Shadowsinger lurked in his usual shroud of darkness at the table that held our standing reservation. So coy, so shy, so…devious. I knew that smirk. He would give in to my devices, I just had to play my little game. Giving a twirl to show off the tightly clad-in-silk curve of my ass, and a little shimmy, I twirled toward the table with a gimme gesture of my hand, manicured nails glistening in the ambient fae light.

A mischievous glint caught in Rhys’ eye as Azriel turned from their heated conversation, giving into my gesture. He couldn’t resist me. Rhys raised three fingers lazily in the air, giving a smile to our favorite attendant.

“Tequila. More tequila.” The attendant read the unspoken words right away. The night was young and the liquor would keep flowing.

Life had been painfully busy as of late and tonight was intended as a reprieve from our ever-present duties. We all needed it, stoic Shadowsinger included.

Azriel and I had toed the line of love, lust, and friendship in a tangled waltz of desire for some time now. I wanted him. He wanted me. And tonight, tonight I would make my move.

His hands held my waist, pulling body in closely to his. My hips swaying in rhythm as his alluring mist and cedar scent filled my nose. His low, seductive voice filled my ears. “You’re divine, you know that?”

Oh, we were so fucking tonight. My breasts tightened at the promise in his tone. I spun in his arms, my ass pressed firmly against his very prominent arousal. The coarse hairs of his corded forearms grazed against the exposed skin of my midriff through a cut out panel of my dress. So much strength lay within his honed body, and now that strength was focused on me. Lost in the music, we became one on the dance floor. My head leaned back into a muscled shoulder, the scruff of his chin brushing against my forehead. I smiled as Mor danced a few feet away from us, her red satin gown swaying deliciously over her toned body. She was practically glowing as the light shimmered off of the sweat lightly coating her skin. She was radiant. A warmth filled me as I took her in, feeling Azriel’s jaw tense slightly. Not in discontent, but into a smile much like my own. This moment was paradise.

I wasn’t sure how long we spent on that dance floor but that night something shifted. That night we fucked as I’d hoped. But not in the way of a casual hook-up, or a fleeting affair, but in the way that one moves in the person they know is theirs. Passion and frenzy fueled the lust between us, combining into something more.

Love.

I moaned as Azriel brought me to my release for the third time that night, the climax he wrung from me carrying on in deliciously excruciating waves. His own release following somewhere between them. His chest rose and fell in heavy pants, my breasts pressing into him as I took my own steadying breaths. One strong arm wrapped around me, pulling me as closely into him as possible, his other arm pressing into my back, a broad palm cradling the back of my head as my cheek pressed to the juncture of his neck and collarbone.

The only way to describe the feeling had to be bliss. A pure, unadulterated feeling of peace flowed between or two bare bodies as our breathing fell into sync. A rumble vibrated from his chest and straight through me as he whispered, his head turning toward me, his swollen lips brushing the shell of my ear, warm breath creating chills through my body. “I love you, Y/N.”

His heartbeat echoed through me, racing at his admission. I smiled and I could tell he felt it by the sweet sigh he exhaled. “I love you too, Azriel.”

Life was beautiful. It was for several years. Until the day Rhys commanded us to protect the city. Until he was gone for fifty years.

A life of love and duty became a life of duty and love when there was time. We were so busy, so worried for Rhys, our friend, our High Lord, our family. He was such a fundamental element in our lives and then he was just… gone.

In a strange way, though, it brought Azriel and I closer emotionally but life became less about passion and more about duty. We protected our court, the peace within it. We fought for those basic, fundamental needs in order to survive, and our desire escape life’s duties and into eachother had to fall to the wayside.

When Rhys came back, we were elated. And yet, something was different. We were hardened by the past half-century spent on edge. We remained worried that another threat was around the corner… and we were right. The war with Hybern took something from all of us, a fundamental element of peace had just dissipated. We all hid it, all dealt with it in our own ways, but Azriel and I- it hit us hard. What once revolved around romance and passion, fell into a rhythm of comfort and reassurance. There was no doubt that we loved eachother, needed eachother like we needed air.

And then there were the Archeron sisters… Rhys found his home within Feyre. He deserved it and we were all so damned happy for him. And Cassian, he found Nesta. And I- I found a nearly broken female named Elain. She was soft and lovely, like a spring breeze, but she had been stripped of her autonomy when she’d been tossed into that damned cauldron. Though the asshole mortal she’d been engaged to proved to be just that - an asshole mortal - she still hurt. And I felt genuine sympathy for her, she didn’t choose this. She was forced into it, and someone she was still so desperate to love, someone whose life would now only be fleeting in comparison to her own, no longer wanted her. He’d treated her like nothing more than shit stamped into the tread of his boot. Sweet, lovely Elain of all people didn’t deserve that.

I couldn’t help the ache that filled me at her desperation. We became close. She was my friend, confided in me, and her softness warmed something that I thought had long since frozen over within the depths of my soul.

I don’t know when it happened but I grew to love her. First as a friend. Not the fiery passionate kind of love and desire that I’d felt for Azriel before we’d become official, this was something delicate and gentle, like the soft feel of a velvet flower petal beneath the pad of a thumb. It became something so precious to me.

I felt like a traitor. I didn’t just love her, I was in love with the whimsical and beautiful Elain Archeron. And somehow, the fact that Azriel had become friends with her, separate from our own friendship, made my treachery feel all the worse.

It was a night at Sevenda’s that changed everything for us. Azriel and I were long overdue for a date night. He’d ordered a bottle of wine and my favorite appetizer of breaded zucchini planks with red sauce. A warmth filled his eyes that I hadn’t seen in some time. It nearly felt like things once had.

A lovely female entered the establishment with her handsome male counterpart. I watched them, watched her, in reverence. The female form was lovely, gentle in a way that bordered muse-like, luscious and welcoming, but carrying such strength beneath the surface. One moment Azriel was looking at the female and the next he was staring back toward me, something knowing flickering across his features.

“Az…” I choked out.

His hand reached across the table to mine, its warmth seeping through me. Those hazel eyes gleamed and I felt the tears threatening to spill over my thick lashes. His thumb brushed across my hand in soothing waves. “It’s okay.” He spoke, voice barely above a whisper. “I know.”

Those words meant so much. But, how much did he truly know? Grappling with the words to match the turbulent feelings within me all I could manage was another choked “Az,” his name coming out slightly more firmly this time as I prayed I wouldn’t lose the courage. “It’s… Elain.”

“I know.” His voice came out so calmly and steady that it spurred the opposite response from me. How did I end up with such a patient and understanding partner, someone so full of unconditional love despite the unfair hand that life had dealt him?

The tears flowed freely then. Wiping my flushed cheeks, I turned my head in an effort of diverting any attention they’d drawn. Azriel hurriedly dropped a generous sum of marks on the table and spirited me home, to our shared chambers at the River House.

He held me closely in our bed, one hand stroking my hair in a calming rhythm. “It’s okay” he promised, the words spoken into my hair warming my scalp. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

An hour passed and I looked up to him, “I want you.” I choked.

A subtle curve tilted the corner of his lips upward, a dimple appearing on the left side, “I want you too- no, Y/N, I need you.” The small grin faded into a softened expression of sincerity as he comtinued. “But this situation?” He paused, searching for the words. “It’s okay. I love you just the same. I always will. And Y/N?”

I had to look a mess as puffy, glassy eyes met his, encouraging him to continue.

“I care for her too.”

My breath caught. I’d suspected he cared for her. I didn’t know how anyone couldn’t - but, the way the words he spoke carried a warmth that he so rarely shared, except in regard to me- the words were not only those of acceptance, but of mutual understanding.

——————-

Two years later

I sat on the edge of our oversized bed, a white linen sun-dress covering my summer tanned skin. A pin poked into my head causing a knee-jerk reaction. Whipping my head to the side with a huff, a soft laugh came from behind me. “Quit fidgeting. It’s almost perfect.” A beat of silence passed along with a couple pulls of my hair. “There. It’s perfect.”

I looked back to Elain, her rosy cheeks amplified by the golden light pouring in through the open window to our chamber. “Not crooked this time?”

She placed a hand to her chest in mock offense. “It was you, who placed a crooked bow in my hair in case you’ve forgotten.”

I giggled. She wasn’t wrong. My Elain, my friend and my lover, someone who mirrored my own soft femininity while wielding a strength that I admired deeply. Two souls brought together by fate. I loved her to the very marrow of my bones.

And Azriel, my soulmate, my passionate lover. The foundation that kept me standing through the most tumultuous of times. I loved him now more than ever. His strength, his protective instincts, his loyalty and honor, his acceptance, and the way he could wring pleasure from my needy body like nobody else, Elain’s too. A male of many talents, indeed.

We were his girls to care for and he showed us daily how his heart overflowed for both of us. And we were able to bring his guard down enough that those walls that had erected over years of war and turmoil, lowered so we could care for him like he cared for us. We could fight enemies at dawn, and share chocolate croissants on picnic blankets along the sidra at sunset. Live a life so soft and lovely one moment, and full of desperation and passion the next. We were not defined by who we loved, but how we loved. And for our trio? It was everything.

————————————

General ACOTAR tags: @lilah-asteria @thecollegecowgirl @mochibabycakes @nickishadow139

[kedsandtubesocks]

seasons of you (year 1 - winter)

Blacksmith!Frankie Morales x F!Reader

summary: your first winter in the valley brings in a frosty breeze & a push towards a certain blacksmith

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, stardew valley AU, reader is a farmer & has a family but no physical description, shy & sweet!Frankie, major pining & yearning, friends to something more, Frankie being previously married/a bit secretive about his life, gift exchange as love language, use of nickname (Frankie calls reader “little farmer” affectionately but it’s no reflection on reader’s size), blooming romance

word count: 5.6k

a/n: we’ve arrived to Frankie’s first piece in our Stardew AU series! We’re starting ‘in the middle of things’ & it’s meant to show how slow/shy our relationship with Frankie unfolds that romance just starts rolling now, plus I needed Frankie’s story to begin this way so something else can maybe unfold in year two but that’s all I’m gonna saying lol, again couldn’t have done this without @lowlights @swiftispunk @perotovar & @burntheedges you babes are my guiding stars always and I’m eternally grateful. And to you, if you’re reading this, thank you too lovely

Snow crunches under your boots and the chilly air seeping through your coat feels different. This would be your first serious winter storm and you already sense it approaching.

Yanking open the blacksmith’s door, a wave of heat washes over and you sigh.

Thankfully Frankie’s shop is still open and you almost cry relieved.

“Sorry!” You apologize walking further towards the counter. “I know there’s five minutes left before closing, but I just wanted to swing by!”

You wanted to pick up your newly forged ax before the storm hit and of course…

You wanted to see him.

Autumn kept you so busy with the farm and the fall festival. Now you hope to see more of your favorite blacksmith.

Waiting for him, your eyes wander.

The shop, with its eternal flame flickering, holds so much personality in its walls. A military pilot flag hangs by the front. The low radio plays a soft rock ballad. A bulletin board by the side of the counter is covered in various flyers and photos. Your favorite snapshots are one of a smiling little baby girl with sweet chubby cheeks you still haven’t gotten to ask Frankie who she is. There’s another photo of a group of men in military uniform.

It’s all so familiar and welcoming now.

With all the time in the mines, you wonder if maybe your pickaxe needs work too. Sliding your backpack off, you examine your trusty tool. Worn, but not weathered, the steel speaks of the craftsmanship and skill of the blacksmith who first forged it for you.

“You waiting for that tool to do something or should I leave you two alone?”

Frankie.

You fight back a smile when his warm deep teasing voice floats in.

Frankie wasn’t this easy going with you at first. He kept his distance, was polite but rather reserved.

“He’s just shy. He was like that when I first moved in too,” Leah, your closest friend here in the valley, reassured you one night at the saloon.

Now those beautiful gem eyes of Francisco Morales blaze straight at you as he walks towards the counter. Wearing his trademark baseball cap you playfully glare at him.

“I’m just checking to see if I need to complain to my blacksmith about my pickaxe needing work.” You quip back to him.

“Oh well shit, thank god that isn’t me.” Frankie smirks and you snort at his comment.

Frankie reminds you of the flames and steel he works with. Hard working and gently intense, yet a warmth gleams beneath him and fills an entire room just like the heat from his kilns.

“You just had to come in five minutes before I closed huh?” Frankie sighs dramatically.

You think he’s teasing but guilt still strikes you quick. Rambling out apologies, you scramble to explain how it’s mainly for precaution with the storm coming.

“I can always come back later!” You urge panicking.

He chuckles, cozily deep, and you sputter to a stop.

“I kid little farmer, I kid.”

That nickname he so casually gave to you just this month sparks an electric warmth through your entire body. You weakly laugh back, not able to fully process a reply.

Frankie’s gorgeous features, his striking nose, and his warm eyes disarm you in a way that makes your knees want to fold.

He moves around the tables and workbenches to pull out your ax.

“There it is!” You happily cheer.

Frankie even playfully shows off the sleek new tool like he’s a hostess in a daytime game show and you clap appreciatively while you laugh. It surprises you how silly sometimes Frankie can be.

Moving back to the counter he places your ax onto it. Then he leans towards you and begins explaining what upgrades he did.

You should be listening, but you can’t. Not with him leaning so close to you.

You’ve had an embarrassing crush on Frankie since the first moment Mayor Lewis introduced you to him. But with how busy you’ve been settling into the valley, along with how shy and reserved Frankie is, your feelings simply have stayed crystallizing inside you.

Frankie’s diligent eyes are so focused on his work and it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. How dedicated he is to his craft, how quietly passionate he is, you yearn to fall into him more.

Suddenly Frankie’s eyes flicker up and catch you staring at him. In a panic your gaze snaps down to your tool.

“Yup! Looks like it can still cut a tree! Good job, Morales.” You lamely reply and Frankie snorts.

You do sincerely thank him and even offer to get him coffee for making him stay this late.

Frankie waves you off casually. “Maybe next time, besides you gotta get home before the storm hits.”

He’s right. There's still so much you need to do before the night comes. The clatter of Frankie slowly shutting everything down for the night draws you out of your thoughts.

“Do you need any help?” You offer.

“Nah, I’m good. Plus I don’t need your pretty hands getting burned.” Frankie replies back.

Although he’s not looking at you, his sly compliment sends a spark through your body.

Scrambling to put your ax in its guard and then shoving it into your backpack, you thank Frankie again and plan to quietly leave.

“Wait!” Frankie suddenly calls out and you freeze.

“Wait, don’t head out yet. Let me walk you home.”

The chill from outside settles into the shop now that the fires are extinguished. Yet, Frankie’s words ignite a dizzying heat.

“Oh no it’s okay!” You quickly stammer out as a nervous energy spikes in you.

You know he lives besides the forge. It wouldn’t make sense for him to walk you home then have to head the way back here.

The lights from the back area turn off and Frankie already walks out towards you with his coat on.

Your eyes go wide.

“Come on.” He gently nudges you with his kind eyes and your body moves on autopilot.

Once outside the cold galvanizes you. The sky above stretches out a misty blue while the edges of evening’s midnight coloring slowly creeps in.

The entire walk back to your farm Frankie stays in step with you. The conversation is light, easy, simple talk of how his and your day went. Your heart hammers in your chest. Yet, it’s comforting to have someone beside you. He’s warm and stays close.

Now your farm stretches before you a soft welcome home. Frankie, like the gentleman he is, walks you to the door.

Appreciative, you warmly thank him and wish him a safe trip back home.

“Thanks and stay warm, little farmer.” He grins softly, kind.

After a sweet wave goodbye to him, you walk off the porch to do all the final errands before you call it a night.

“Wait, what’re you doing?” Frankie suddenly calls out and curiosity colors his voice.

You glance back and see he hasn’t moved an inch.

With an eased sleepy smile you tell him you have a few last minute things you need to do. Like check on your winter seeds, double check the coop and then make sure the pipes are covered.

“You need help?” He warmly asks concerned and sincere.

“Oh no, I’m good I promise!” You reply. If you were braver you’d joke about not wanting to hurt his pretty hands.

“Besides, you need to get home.” You firmly tell him.

It’s getting darker, not completely night out, but you feel guilty for Frankie walking out here.

So with one final sigh you give him a warm goodbye.

“Stay warm tonight, Morales.”

Frankie quietly grins back and you hope he makes it home safe. Now your focus turns to the small field and you kneel before it.

Your winter seeds aren’t ready just yet. A dread fills you wondering if they will last against the storm.

“What are you growing?”

Frankie.

You didn’t even hear his footsteps in the snow. Whipping your head up you watch Frankie lean down to squat beside you.

“You should be walking home!” You cry out surprised.

Frankie shrugs sleepily. “It’s still early, I’ll be fine.”

You make an indignant squeak that makes him chuckle. Frankie’s eyes return to the little saplings still making their way through the snow, stubbornly growing against the harsh winter.

“They’re just winter seeds.” You sigh explaining how you’ve been growing them mainly for the experience and money.

“You think they’re gonna make it?” He asks gently.

You hope so.

You’re about to get up when Frankie quickly stands above with his hand outstretched to you. Even though your hands are gloved and so are his, a flutter runs through your chest when you place your hand in his. Frankie lifts you up effortlessly and you thank him, trying to steady yourself.

“Alright, what’s next?” Frankie asks light.

“For you to go home, Morales!” You laugh.

“Well you’re walking towards the barn so…kinda doesn’t seem like you’re finished yet.” Frankie comments almost shyly as he stays walking beside you.

“I’m not, but I don’t need your help. Go home!” You urge with a weak laugh. Frankie simply shrugs.

Sliding open the coop door, warmth begs you to come inside. You’re thankful for investing in those barn heaters.

“Your chickens are so big.” Frankie admires quietly in awe at the sleeping birds.

You smile while double checking the coop. Everything seems secure and safe for whatever might come this way tonight.

Stepping back outside the cold air seems still, quiet.

“You need to head home.” You tell him sternly, more worried than ever about his walk back to town.

“What’s next?” He asks with steeled resolve in his voice with no sign of leaving.

“Go home Francisco.” You firmly urge saying his full name.

But then you catch the sight of your pipes and sigh. So you almost did forget to wrap them.

“You didn't wrap your pipes?” He sounds a bit worried.

“I thought I did earlier…” Now you’re extra grateful for double checking.

When the first snow came at the start of winter, everyone reassured you the pipes would be fine. It was during harder snow storms, blizzards, that you needed to be careful. And now one approaches fast.

Frankie follows you inside the house to grab the necessary materials.

You can’t even process him being in your home for the first time. Simply on a mission you and him work together swiftly grabbing duck tape, a ratty old towel and head to the pipes.

It’s a swift team effort. In minutes, the pipes are securely wrapped safely and snug. You and him even share a triumphant high five.

“I wish I could invite you in for a thank you hot chocolate but you need to head home now.” You press.

Frankie, with his hands in his coat pockets, shrugs easily.

“I can stay for some thank you hot coco.” He offers.

“You gotta get home before the storm hits!” You shriek.

He waves you off casually. “It’s not coming till later tonight I’ll be fine. Now come on, don’t you wanna impress me with your hot chocolate skills?”

The smirk he gives you is so boyishly charming, almost like he’s daring you to invite him in.

This side of him is rare. You’ve only seen him get this smug and cocky at the saloon during a game of darts. Now your heart flutters fast in your chest.

“Come on,” He pouts. “Think of this as a way to help keep me warm on the walk back.”

He makes a point. The panic of wanting him to make it home safe before the storm, becomes smaller against the thought of spending more time with this man.

To have this man in your home.

So with a sigh of defeat you crack. Nudging your chin towards the door, you let Frankie in.

He’s in your home now. You need to stay composed.

You do have budding feelings for him, something that’s evolved out of the simple crush you had. And having him here in your home feels like dipping your toe into the deep end of a pool before jumping in. But you shake those thoughts away.

“Your place is nice.” Frankie admires and you thank him.

It’s still small, cozy now that you’re slowly allowing yourself to fully settle into the old bones of your grandpa’s home.

You want to say more until Frankie’s stomach suddenly growls.

Looking at him with surprised eyes, he stares back with beautiful eyes the size of the full moons.

“Shit.”

You laugh at his panicked response.

“You okay with maybe staying and having a quick dinner or should I really kick you out so you can head home?” You leave the option up to him, place the ball in his court.

Frankie with the most bashful smile slides off his coat.

“Dinner sounds great, little farmer.”

Your heart floats up and gets tangled in your throat, but it’s incredible.

You have the leftover lasagna Evelyn gave you as a thank you. But you also think of the soup recipe you've been dying to make for this weather.

So you leave it up to your guest for the night.

“Soup or leftover lasagna?” You offer light.

Frankie’s eyebrows scrunched together adorable, thinking hard at the two options, and you keep back a giggle.

“Will the soup take you a while to make?” He sounds sweetly concerned.

You swear it will take less than twenty minutes.

“Soup it is.” Frankie grins and it touches his eyes.

You begin grabbing the various ingredients and hate how hyper aware you feel even in your own house.

“So what can I help with?” Frankie now slides beside you and you almost squeak in surprise.

For someone who makes so much noise when he works, you find he’s rather quiet, swift.

“You’re my guest, so don’t worry. Plus you’ve helped enough!” You shoo him away and don’t miss the way he playfully glares at you.

Conversation again unfolds effortlessly with him. Frankie talks about how Mayor Lewis was in the shop earlier bragging about you hitting a full year in the valley.

“And here I thought everyone had stopped gossiping about me.” You snort lightly and start grabbing the bowls.

It will be a full year since you moved to your grandpa’s family farm. However, you wonder when the newness of you living here will subside.

“There’s… still some gossip of course. Small town after all.” Frankie admits shyly, like a school boy admitting a secret.

“But don’t worry, I don’t let any of ‘em talk bad about you in my shop.” Frankie, endearingly sweet, adds. His words knock you breathless and you almost drop the bowls.

“I knew I could count on you, Morales.” You manage to say with a grin.

Thankfully quick, the soup turns out comforting and delicious. Frankie even gushes about how incredible it is and your ego inflates wild.

“Thanks so much for dinner.” Frankie beams with the brightness of a sun.

“Please, I’m the one who’s thankful for all your help.” You earnestly tell him.

“Plus, it’s nice to have good company for dinner.” You add.

“I understand,” Frankie nods. “Gets a bit quiet around my place too. S’nice to change it up.”

A dual sided emotion settles in you. You ache understanding but also yearn to uncover more about this beautiful and sturdy man.

Before you can dive more into this discussion, Frankie’s phone rings wild and loud. Hastily scrambling to grab it, once he discovers who’s calling his face drops for a flicker of a moment.

“Sorry little farmer, but gotta excuse myself real quick is that alright?” His voice wavers.

Of course you earnestly reassure him and even direct him to the bathroom so he can talk in private. Frankie thanks you graciously then rushes out.

The house is quiet and he didn’t fully close the bathroom door fully. So his conversation leaks out enough for you to catch it.

“Wait, so you wannna just spring this on me now?” His voice slices out sharp. You’ve never heard Frankie sound this upset.

“Yes of course I’m gonna take her. But do you know how fucking shitty this is, Diana? Did you even think about my schedule before you fucking planned this trip?” He snaps.

You’ve also never heard him curse and it snaps your snipe straight. He sighs incredibly frustrated and angered, allowing whoever is on the phone to talk.

“Oh yeah, yeah, real fucking nice. Always make me the bad guy, right?”

Then Frankie starts speaking fast and low in Spanish you can’t catch what he’s saying. His tone however feels barbed and venomous.

So many questions bubble up. You believe you heard the name ‘Diana’ but this could be a conversation about anything.

Now thinking about it, even though you’ve been here almost a full year… you don’t know much about Frankie personally and that truth sinks your heart.

Silence now settles into your home until Frankie’s footsteps echo returning down the hall.

“I’m so sorry.” Frankie’s voice jolts the air but with a deep sadness. “I think I’m gonna have to save that cup of hot chocolate for another day.”

You kind of figured. Besides, you didn’t want him to get caught in the storm.

Outside the air has chilled, but thankfully the snow hasn’t begun.

“Had a great time tonight, thanks again for having me for.” An earnest grace radiates from his words.

You’re the one who’s truly thankful for him and you repeatedly tell him that.

Unfortunately a dread hits you. You want to make sure he makes it home. Your worry must be evident on your face because Frankie’s eyes cloud with caution.

“Wait, what’s wrong?”

When you tell him, a beautiful relief melts on Frankie’s face that you almost wish you could capture.

“Oh come on, that’s easy to fix, little farmer.”

He pulls out his phone and hands it to you.

He’s asking for your number.

Your heart beats so rapidly in your ears when you type your digits in.

“I’ll message you when I get home. Promise.” His warm voice is gilded with truth.

“Stay safe okay Frankie?” You tell him and his gorgeous eyes soften.

“Yeah, will do. And you stay safe too okay, little farmer? Stay warm and if you need anything.”

He holds his phone up and playfully wiggles it, a signal to say you should call him. You smile unbearably big and stay on the porch watching him leave until he vanishes from your sight.

You keep busy so you’re not simply staring at your phone waiting for his message. You clean up the remnants of dinner and feel comforted seeing two bowls in your sink.

Then your phone chimes and you scramble.

An message from an unknown number:

[Made it home safe!]

Another message flickers in.

[Also this is Frankie btw :)]

[Hi! 🪓]

The little ax emoji he adds makes you giggle giddy over how adorable this man can be.

You add his name and contact info into your phone. It warms you better than any sip of hot chocolate could.

- ��� -

“Why do we even gotta celebrate ice?” One of the kids, you think Vincent, shouts that as you reach the edge of the forest and you snicker.

When you heard about the festival of ice, it simply sounded like a way for the town to break up the winter days. But it also reminded you how earnest and endearing the town can be.

Your heart jumps fast spotting Frankie bundled in his cozy jacket. He stands close to Willy and the two of them talk low, completely engaged with each other.

Whatever they’re discussing seems serious, evident in Frankie’s hard frown and Willy’s unusual somber expression. You decide not to interrupt them.

The fishing game is the highlight of the festival and to no shock the town’s head fisherman wins.

“It’s rigged.” You tease Willy and his hearty laugh is contagious.

“Don’t worry, next year you’ll be puttin’ me to shame.” Willy proudly declares.

When the event concludes for the day, Frankie already walks off without saying a word to you.

You try not to think about it too much.

When you’re about to head to bed, you find a message alert on your phone.

Frankie:

[Good try with the fishing tournament today! Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you today… have a lot of stuff going on. Also Willy wins every year. Think Lewis even adds fish into his crate to make sure it happens lol you’re the real winner in my book ]

You laugh as warmth balloons rapidly in your chest.

This message feels like a true victory for the day and it carries you for the rest of the week. Especially with how hard and brisk this final season of the year is.

Everyone warned you winter would be tough, and with your greenhouse still unfixed you’re realizing how true the warning is.

The days drag and bleed together. You throw yourself into the mines trying to gather more resources but that drains you fast. So you start doing a few errands around town to break up the days.

When Frankie requests a certain amount of wood you scramble quickly to complete the errand.

Inside the blacksmith shop, the familiar warmth greets you. However when Frankie walks out, a weariness looms over him. Heavy bangs hang around his eyes even as he smiles thin.

“Hey.” His voice is weary.

“Hey.” You reply back hesitantly. “I uh…have the wood you asked for.”

“Oh shit really?” He perks up. “Thanks, little farmer.”

You beam proud knowing you managed to at least brighten his day a little.

“Wait here, let me get your payment.”

You almost want to tell him that wasn’t necessary, but Frankie scrambles for his wallet.

“So, how ya been?” He asks.

“Good.” You partially lie. “How have you been?”

“Good.” He answers quickly, however you sense a lie buried.

You weakly smile. Exhausted, Frankie barely grins back and a pang pierces through you.

“Hey… Frankie.” You begin weakly. Frankie, midway pulling out your payment, freezes and blinks towards you.

“Yeah, little farmer what’s up?”

You know this might not mean much but you want to at least tell him.

“I just…” the words get stuck in your throat but with a deep inhale you unclog them.

“You just seem tired. I appreciate how hard you work but I just hope you get some rest when you can.” You tell him earnestly. “And… if there’s anything bothering you, I just wanted you to know you can always talk to me.”

You finish and hope you didn’t overstep.

Frankie’s gemstone eyes flicker stunned and then he sighs.

For the first time, Frankie slips his very notable baseball cap off and runs a hand over his hair.

His soft hat hair, the way you get this new glimpse of Frankie, lights something within your chest. You’ve never seen him without his cap. When he slips the baseball hat back on, his eyes seem cloudy and downcast.

“Thanks little farmer, appreciate it.” He mutters with another sigh. “It’s just stupid shit with my ex wife that’s taking longer than I expected to work out.”

Frankie’s words catapult you straight out of the atmosphere and your blood runs cold.

Ex wife.

Frankie was married before.

“I shouldn’t let it bother me and I don’t wanna be that type of ex husband, but holy shit she can be so damn difficult.” He shakes his head.

This feels like you’re meeting him again for the first time. But you’re grateful he’s sharing this with you.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this and with her being difficult.” You reply with a soft comfort.

“You’re a good guy Frankie. I hope she doesn’t make you forget that.” You add, meaning those words.

You and him might have just recently become closer, but this entire year you’ve been living in Pelican Town Frankie’s been so sincerely kind. Always being patient with you and how awful you sometimes are to your poor tools. Even just seeing his soft shy smile when you run into him has brightened your day many times.

Frankie’s eyes finally flicker to you. They search your face like he’s waiting for you to react.

His mouth opens slightly.

Then he says your name, breathes it out, and it kickstarts a wild flutter in your heart.

But the door suddenly yanks open wildly behind you, cutting him off rapidly.

Robin, the town’s ever handy carpenter, arrives with a warm welcome drawing all the attention to her. The moment flutters away with her entrance. With a fast goodbye to Frankie and a swift warm greeting to Robin, you scramble fast to leave.

“Wait I didn’t-”

You don’t even wait to hear what Frankie has to say before you’re out of the door and back into the cold winter air. With so many thoughts buzzing in your head like angry hornets you simply head to the mines.

You stay there until the dead of night and drag your body back to farm. Even with how tired you are, your mind still thinks of a certain blacksmith.

The next morning there are two letters waiting for you. One is from Lewis reminding you of the upcoming Winter Star festival. The other is from Frankie.

Your heart jumps fast.

Little farmer,

Thanks for thinking of me and wanting to look out for me. Appreciate it a lot. Also you forgot your payment yesterday, silly! Don’t work yourself too hard either. So you get some rest too, alright?

Hope you swing by again and maybe soon we’ll have time for that hot chocolate :)

He not only sent you the payment for the errand but also a sweet pack of maple bars.

An overwhelming sweetness consumes you and you wish it never leaves.

The next day you plan to make Frankie a hot chocolate to bring him in the morning. But you realize you used the last remaining bits a few nights ago when you snuggled in for a cozy reading night. You mentally kick yourself but decide a green tea will hopefully be the best second option.

The minute Frankie’s shop opens you’re there the first one inside.

“You’re here early.” Frankie greets you with crinkled smiling eyes.

“Thought I’d stop by before I head to the mines.” You reply back brightly.

“It’s not hot cocoa, but I hope it’s a nice treat.” You offer lightly while you hand him the cozy to go drink.

“You got this for me? Thanks so much.” Your heart flutters hearing how warm his voice gets.

He takes a sip and his eye brows shoot up under the cover of his hat. Oh no. Does he not like it?

“Is this green tea?” His voice jumps so excited. “I love green tea!”

His brilliant smile creates a sun bursting light in your chest and you’re a bit grateful now you ran out of hot chocolate.

- ❆ -

Gus is a full five minutes into his handmade candy cane discussion and while you adore the endearing saloon owner, you can only take so much.

The feast of the evening star still warms and eases you though. The twinkling decorations, the absolute grand festive tree, the delicious food - it’s all a cozy blanket to soak into.

So you allow dear Gus to ramble about his candy canes while you sip on your warm drink.

“So who’s your secret gift recipient?”

Frankie’s soft but playful voice catches you off guard and you almost sputter out your drink.

You caught sight of him earlier but he was busy laughing with Pierre and Caroline. Then you got caught up in greeting everyone. Now you’re thankful to finally talk to him.

“You know that’s a secret.” You playfully glare at him.

The blacksmith simply shrugs but the amusement tugging his lips makes you smile.

A beautiful flush crawls over Frankie’s face. A kaleidoscopic joy sparkles in his deep eyes. He seems better and joy fills you.

“So does that mean you’re not gonna tell me what your winter star wish is?” He asks light.

You roll your eyes, but giddiness consumes you fast.

“You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.” You surprisingly coyly reply.

Frankie snorts and his face crinkles up adorable.

“If I told ya, you probably wouldn’t even believe me.” He says casually then takes a sip of his drink.

“Wait,” you reply back. “Now you gotta tell me.”

Frankie doesn’t reply for a moment.

In the stillness of this moment, you notice how close he is. He’s leaning right beside you that you can smell the faint smoke of his work, and a crisp cologne you’ve never noticed before.

Then, you see it. His stunning amber gemstone eyes flicker to your lips.

It’s fast, happens in a breath of a moment. Your throat dries. You blame the warm food and festive atmosphere, but you ache to lean closer.

Before you can react or even wait for Frankie’s next move, Mayor Lewis claps loudly, breaking the spell.

“Time to exchange gifts everybody!” He declares.

Your body feels electric and immediately you try settling yourself down. You needed to give your gift.

Jodi, the sweet mother she is, deserves a nice sweet treat and you surprise her with a fully cooked chocolate cake. Her warm excited reaction is a treat itself.

Evelyn, ever the kind grandmother, gives you a pack of her delicious and warm cookies. You hug her tight thanking her.

The festival concludes with a gentle end and fizzles out softly. The clean up is eased, relaxed, and by the time it’s finished an unfortunately long yawn takes over you.

“Can I walk ya home, little farmer? You seem tired.”

Frankie again, so stealthy, suddenly appears out of thin air.

You squeak out a quick yes and his face melts soft.

“So a full year down huh? Hope we haven’t scared you off too badly.” Frankie offers hopeful.

It has been a year, feels like so much yet so little has been composed into your new life here in Pelican Town. You think of the dilapidated community center you’ve been keeping an eye on and working on.

You’ve taken this new journey slowly, at your own pace. You can almost hear your grandpa’s voice cheering you on saying just take it one step at a time.

“No way.” You laugh answering Frankie’s question. If anything, you’ve grown more attached to the valley than you ever imagined. You even tell Frankie this and his face lights up so beautifully it rivals the festival tree standing in the town plaza.

“Everything work out with your ex?” You ask gently and then sputter out an apology if you’ve overstepped.

Frankie chuckles. “Nah, I’m glad we can talk about it.”

That comforts you.

“And yeah, thankfully everything worked out.” Frankie grins sleepily. “I’m still really sorry you had to hear that.”

“No worries! And like what you just said, I’m glad I can be here for you. That’s what friends are for, remember?” You reassure him.

“Yeah, friends.” The way his voice hangs on the word friends gets tangled in your chest.

A quietness clouds the walk.

“So Gus tell you about homemade candy canes?” Until Frankie’s light voice breaks the silence and you laugh.

It might have been a slow start becoming friends with Frankie. But you’re glad, grateful, to finally arrive here.

Arriving at your farm you thank Frankie again.

“If it wasn’t so late I really would invite you in for that hot chocolate I’ve been promising you.” You sigh. You even begged Gus for a new pack just to be stocked up.

“Don’t worry about it. There will be another night, promise.” His words are gilded in a promise you want to treasure.

He suddenly says your name and now under the light of your porch, Frankie seems bashful as his eyes flicker around.

“I, uh, kind of have something for you.”

That takes you by surprise.

“Couldn’t give it to you earlier cause I know Mayor Lewis would’ve had my ass.” Frankie dryly snorts and then pulls out something concealed in the classic brown paper wrapping he uses at his shop.

“Happy feast of the winter star, little farmer.” He delicately hands it to you and your eyes feel as if they’re going to pop out any moment.

You cry in protest that he didn’t need to get you anything and guilt rushes in. You didn’t get him anything.

“Eh,” he shrugs. “No pasa nada.”

You’ve only caught small bits of him speaking Spanish before and now hearing him speak so casual sounds beautiful.

Unwrapping the surprise gift, you discover he got you an iridium bar and you inhale sharply.

You haven’t even been able to forge one yet. The most precious, coveted, type of metal bar and he just casually gave one to you right now.

“Francisco Morales, this is too much!” You shriek.

He laughs buoyantly and loud at your reaction.

“Trust me, it’s not. Besides, seen how hard you work. How much you do for me and the town. You deserve it.”

You don’t want to get emotional, but the tears clogging your throat say otherwise. Those tears and the bubbling emotions, gratitude and all other shades of thankfulness, overtake you. Before you can stop yourself you rush to Frankie and collide into him.

You hug him best as you can but realize what you’ve just done. You don’t even know if he’s okay with close contact like this.

Immediately Frankie wraps you in his arms and squeezes you back. He’s all encompassing, beautifully so.

Your mind, your thoughts, everything melt as you embrace him back.

“Thank you.” You earnestly tell him.

“Anytime.” Frankie whispers back.

You would never tell Frankie this… but your winter star wish came true because you couldn’t have wished for a better way to bid such a sweet farewell to this season here in the valley.

[gnabnahc317cb97]

Waiting For Us

Bang Chan x Thick Reader

Word count: 5.7k

Synopsis: A sequel to Blind Date. It's the one year anniversary of you and Chan's first date. You celebrate by going to the same restaurant but something is off. Will your first anniversary go smoothly or is it destined to go as badly as your first date?

Warnings: MDNI 18+ONLY! Strong language/cussing, dry humping, oral (f receiving), fingering, there's a shower head involved at one point (if you catch my drift), spanking, rough sex (kinda), Chan dom/MC sub dynamic (if you squint real hard) unprotected piv sex (please use your head and a condom), praise/pet names, Chan calls mc a whore (one time, during sex), cream pie, cum shot, multiple orgasms, overstimulation (a little), mentions of pregnancy and labor. I THINK that's everything but if I missed something please let me know and I'll add it immediately!

It was your first time back in that restaurant since you and Chan’s first date. You were sitting in the same fancy Italian restaurant, at the same table, a year later waiting for your boyfriend who was, you looked at the clock by the bar, thirty minutes late. Deja vu. You had learned quickly, anywhere Chan was supposed to be, he was going to be at least fifteen minutes late. When you really needed him somewhere on time you would tell him thirty minutes earlier than the actual time and maybe he would show up on time. Unfortunately, Chan had made tonight's reservations, so you were waiting. It was fine. If your boyfriend’s biggest flaw was time management and his utter lack of being able to take a break without the threat of bodily harm, then you weren’t going to complain.  

The last year with Chan had been amazing, you had never been happier in your life. After your first date had gone so horribly you and Chan planned your second one and it went much smoother. Turns out the fancy restaurant Sarah chose was a little out of both of your element and maybe not the best choice for a first date. New person plus strange environment equals awkward, and awkward it was. You remembered absolutely hating sitting at that table a year ago, sitting across from Chan who was practically brain dead, he was so shy. Now looking back, you didn’t know how you didn’t realize it was his nerves, the quick glances between you and the menu, chugging his first drink. At the moment you were too close to the picture to see what was really going on. Hindsight is twenty twenty was a saying for a reason, you thought as you sipped the glass of red wine you had ordered while you waited. 

The second date you went on was exponentially better. You went walking around a record shop and then an old bookstore. You found this little dive of a diner and ordered burgers, fries and milkshakes. You talked about the albums and books you had both just purchased. You had never seen someone smile so brightly, his dimples, the way his eyes scrunched up. You thought you could listen to him talk about his favorite things forever. You loved the way he got so animated, moving his hands, making faces, and he was funny. You didn’t think you had ever laughed so much, you laughed so hard you ran out of breath and got a cramp in your side at one point.  

When Chan took you home that night, he walked you up to your condo. He leaned in and kissed you goodnight and went to pull away, but you weren’t done yet. His lips were so warm and pillowy, you wanted to be buried in them for as long as possible. You grabbed his jacket and kept him pulled close. He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you in, squeezing your soft body and you put your arms around his shoulders, playing with the curls at his nape while his tongue explored your mouth. After you made out in front of your door for a little while. You and Chan finally went to part ways, both of you flushed and grinning like crazy. Chan bit his lip and smiled as he waved and walked backwards away. 

“Goodnight y/n.” You played with the keys in your hand and took a deep breath, smiling at Chan. 

“Goodnight Chan.” After a couple more dates that went particularly well, that was all she wrote. You were inseparable. If you weren’t at work or some other pressing engagement, you would be hanging out with your friends and Chan. Most of your friends were mutual but the few of his that weren’t took you in almost immediately.  

The first time you met them you were nervous. How would Chan act around them, would he be less affectionate with you, would he be embarrassed? He was taller than you by a couple inches, but you were definitely bigger than him. What if one of his friends thought you weren’t good enough for him, what if one of them said it? 

Chan could tell you were nervous; he held your hand as you walked into the party you were meeting his friends at. As soon as you were introduced to them all of your fears of their scrutiny and disapproval disappeared. They were so welcoming and funny, especially when they would gang up on Chan and tell you embarrassing stories from college and high school. He would groan and blush and hide his face. You were going to get another drink and Chan’s friend Felix jumped up offering to come, saying he needed a refill too. Chan narrowed his eyes at him and mimed zipping his lip. Felix just rolled his eyes shaking his head and followed you to find the kitchen. You did in fact find the kitchen and you were pouring drinks for you and Felix when he leaned a little closer so he was sure you could hear him over the music. 

“Ya know, I’ve never seen him so happy?” You bit your lip and quickly turned to look Felix in his eyes, to see if he was just trying to be nice or if he really meant what he said. 

“Really?” Felix nodded and leaned in again. 

“Yea definitely, he hasn’t been able to stop grinning like an idiot. I mean he’s always been an idiot but the grinning like one part, that’s pretty new.” You laughed and slapped Felix lightly. His huge smile appeared as he laughed, scrunching up his freckled nose. 

“No, but really y/n. I have never seen him so...” You held your breath. So what? 

“Whole. You seem to make him whole y/n, you give him purpose.” Your heart swelled and you thought you might cry. You hugged Felix and he squeezed you back tightly. 

“Don’t cry because if you do, I am for sure.” He whispered in your ear, and you laughed. Chan walked into the kitchen and saw you and Felix hugging. He shook his head walking over to the two of you. He playfully smacked Felix on the shoulder. 

“Jeeze I let you two walk away for one second and you’re trying to steal my girl.” Felix turned and cocked his eyebrow at Chan. 

“What do you mean trying? You see me hugging her.” Felix winked at you and gave Chan that megawatt sunshine smile then they both busted out laughing. Felix took his drink and went to get back to the rest of their friends leaving you and Chan in the kitchen. Once it was just the two of you, you quickly put down your cup, wrapped your arms around Chan’s broad shoulders and kissed him passionately. He braced himself against you and pulled you close, squeezing your full hips. When you pulled away Chan had a silly smile on his face and his ears were red. 

“What was that for?” You shrugged a little. 

“For making me happy.” Chan closed his eyes, cupped your face, and rubbed his nose against yours before pressing his full lips against yours again. 

“You make me happy too y/n. So happy.” That night was the first night you and Chan made love. Oh you had fucked before that, you had fucked Chan on your very first date, on a swing no less, but this was the first time you made love. Bodies pressed together tightly, slow and deep, soft kisses and sweet praise, breathing each other in. When you came that night it was like your whole body buzzed, you felt it everywhere, all over, your body practically vibrated with Chan’s on top of you, pressed into you, kissing you over and over, telling you he loves you, would do anything for you. You thought your heart couldn’t be fuller than it was in that moment.

Everything with Chan was just so easy. Even the hardest days were bearable. Chan had this thing he liked to tell you when you were overwhelmed or upset. He would say that ‘a life full of ups would never be fulfilling because you would never know how great the good parts are if you didn’t know how hard it could be too’. It always seemed to help put things into perspective for you. If you seemed down he would tell you every chance he had how beautiful you were. You were. He thought you had the most beautiful eyes and every time he looked at your lips, he wanted to kiss them. He loved your soft body too, your curves, his hands were always on you, touch clearly being one of Chan’s love languages. Whether it was twirling a piece of your hair while you both laid together on the couch reading, or a hand at the small of your back while you waited in queue at the movie theater, Chan’s hands were gentle.

Then there were times his touch would be scorching. Like when he ran his hands up and down your plush body after going down on you, making you cum multiple times on his tongue or when he gripped your hips as he thrusted into you from behind, slapping your full ass before fucking you harder. Your sex life was white hot. You would think after a little while you both would calm down a little but no. You were insatiable for each other. Just thinking about his firm torso and gripping his nice ass as he slammed into you had you squeezing your legs together under the table. You spent most nights together alternating between your place and Chan’s, but you hadn’t taken that last step of moving in together yet. Neither of you were in a hurry, you saw each other all the time anyway so it wasn’t imperative for it to happen. You’d move in together when you moved in, there was no right or wrong time as long as you both were happy. 

You were pulled from your reverie when you saw Chan rushing into the restaurant, it was like a replay of the first night you’d met all over again. Him in another black suit, hurrying to the hostess station before walking to your table with an apologetic and nervous smile on his face.  

“Well, some things never change. I was beginning to wonder if you were really standing me up this time.” You poked fun at Chan as he leaned over and kissed you, he seemed tense. 

“I’m so sorry baby girl I...” You put your hand up, shaking your head. You didn’t want him upset thinking you were mad. You knew why he was late; he didn’t need to make excuses with you. He was always late for the same reason. He had a habit of getting wrapped up in his work and completely losing track of time or anything that was outside of the task he was zeroed in on. You had never let it upset you, he was passionate about his job. Not everyone gets to have a job they love as much as he does. 

“It’s fine Channie, really. It hasn’t been too long.” He gave you a face that screamed ‘yeah right’ but nodded giving you a half smile, relieved that at least you weren’t upset with him. When the waiter came over Chan ordered a drink, and you got another glass of wine while you started talking about your day. Well, you were talking about yours, Chan seemed a bit quiet, a little distracted. You both ordered dinner and you ordered more than a salad this time. You could see why Chan had eaten his dish like he had on your first date. It was delicious! When the meal was done the waiter walked over with probably the most decadent looking piece of chocolate cake you had ever seen. It had two little sparklers lit on the top and written in chocolate syrup on the plate said Happy Anniversary Chan & y/n. 

“Channie, you didn’t... you’re so sweet.” The sparklers burnt out and you leaned over to give him a kiss. You pressed your lips against his softly and you could tell something was actually wrong with him. That little spark that was usually in him seemed to have burned out like the ones in the dessert on your table. He was upset about something, but you didn’t want to be pushy if he wasn’t ready to talk. He would come to you about it when he was ready.  

Chan had really hoped you didn’t notice how upset he was. He was trying to put on a happy face, but it was hard. He just wanted to get through dinner, get through the night. It was your first anniversary for fucks sake, he couldn’t tell you tonight. You both ate the rich chocolate dessert and drank the complimentary champagne. At one point, when you were talking about some silly video you had seen, Chan looked like he was a million miles away. 

“Chan? Did you hear me?” He blinked quickly and nodded. 

“Yea baby girl, I’m listening, sorry continue.” You shook your head. 

“Why don’t we get out of here baby? Do you want to go to yours or mine tonight?” Chan suddenly remembered the rest of his plans for the evening. 

“Oh uh, neither I got us a hotel room for the night.” Your smile grew and it made Chan feel warm inside. 

“Really?!” Channie, you’re such a hopeless romantic. I could just kiss your face off right now!” He let out a little laugh. He wanted nothing more than for you to be happy tonight. Tomorrow... tomorrow, Chan thought wearily. Chan paid for dinner, and you left for the hotel. When you got there and checked in Chan led you up to the room he had reserved over a month ago when he had been so excited for this night. When you walked in it was gorgeous. Very modern, sleek and simple, varying shades of white, black, and grey with chrome accents. 

“Oh my god! Chan! Look at this place! What the hell man?!” You ran over, jumped and fell back on the big fluffy bed laughing. Chan wanted to laugh with you, he wanted to be able to enjoy this like you did. Oblivious to what was coming. The choices that had to be made. The choice he wanted to make. When you sat up giggling you saw Chan standing there stoically. You weren’t used to seeing him like that, so serious. He was usually a fairly goofy, happy go lucky guy. He had seemed upset all night and you were trying to be patient and let him come to you about it, but he wasn’t saying anything, and you wanted him to enjoy this night as much as you did. Maybe if he just talked about it, he’d be able to. You walked over and grabbed Chan’s big hands and pulled him over to sit next to you on the bed. He followed with heavy steps. 

“What’s wrong Chan?” You asked as you both sat down. He shook his head. Not tonight. He wasn’t doing this tonight. 

“Nothing baby girl everything is fine.” The look on his face told you that everything was not fine. He was a terrible liar at the best of times but tonight there was no way to mask how upset he really was. 

“Christopher Bang do not lie to me. I can tell something is bothering you. I’ve waited for you to let out all evening, so just tell me what’s going on. I’m sure you’ll feel better.” He shook his head again. 

“No, I won’t, and you won’t either and I’m not ruining this night. Not on our anniversary.” Chan was getting more upset. You tilted your head confused. 

“You could never ruin tonight Chan. Tell me what’s wrong, it’s okay baby.” You ran your hand down his cheek. He sighed heavily and took your hand in his. He turned it over and looked down at your palm as if he were memorizing it, or perhaps looking into your future. He gently ran his thumb over the pulse point on your wrist, unable to look you in the eye knowing what he had to tell you. 

“I got a promotion at work today. It’s actually the position I dreamed of getting when I started at the company,” Your eyes went wide and you smiled brightly, squeezing his hand and pulling it towards your heart. 

“Chan that’s great news! Why on earth are you upset?” He chewed at his lips as he pulled your hand back down into his lap and played with your fingers, an absent-minded habit he had developed. 

“If I accept the position the first project I’d be in charge of would be opening and organizing the new Sydney office for our company. I would have to move to Australia for two years, once everything is running smoothly, I would be able to move back home.” Tears were welling up in Chan’s eyes at the idea of being away from you for any amount of time. You were in shock; you were not expecting that. 

“Oh.” Your bottom lip started to quiver, and Chan’s hand quickly came up to rub your cheek, comforting you. 

“I’m not accepting the position baby girl. I... I can’t be away from you for two years, I...” His tears started spilling over. You sat up straight and cut him off. 

“There’s no way I’m letting you turn down your dream job because of me!” Chan’s brows furrowed and he shook his head, refusing what you were saying. 

“It’s not because of you it’s because of relocating!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes.  

“If we weren’t together and you were offered this position, relocation and all, would you take it?” Chan’s head continued shaking, he closed his eyes. 

“No no no, that’s not fair because we are together, so what does it matter what I would do if we weren’t?” You stood up and started pacing as you ran your fingers through your hair frustrated. 

“You’ve been with me a year Chan and it has been the best of my life but this is a dream you’ve had for what; at least four or five years? I know how dedicated to your job you are Chan. I’ve apologized to countless people about your tardiness due to that dedication and I’m not letting you give up all that hard work for me!” Your own eyes were filled with tears now. 

“So what I’m just supposed to give up on us instead!? You just want to let us go?! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for us?!! To find this!!” Chan motioned between the two of you. His voice got louder the more upset he got. You sat on the bed next to him again, tears started to trail down your face. 

“We’ll... We’ll make it work. We can do video calls and I can come vis-” Chan shook his head. 

“I can’t ask you to wait two years for me back here y/n. That’s not fair to y-” You cut him off this time. 

“No! Losing you completely when we are so happy is what is not fair Chan.” You laid down burying your face in your arms and you started crying, sobbing. Chan’s mind was racing a mile a minute. He wanted to comfort you, he wanted to ease your mind about all of this, his mind and he wanted a choice that kept the two of you together more than anything. Then it hit him. When the idea came into his mind, he thought he was an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. As soon as it popped into his head, he said it out loud. 

“Go with me.” You lifted your head and sat up sniffling, tears still streaking down your cheeks. You weren’t sure he was really asking what you thought he was asking. 

“What?” Chan scooted closer to you on the bed, the most determined look on his face you had ever seen. 

“Go with me. I’ll say yes to the promotion, and you come with me to Sydney. We’ll move in together. We practically live together already anyway. You can meet my family and see where I grew up.” You looked shell shocked. You blinked and gathered your thoughts back up. 

“You’re serious?” Chan shook his head. 

“As a fucking heart attack baby girl. When I planned this whole night out, I was going to ask you to move in with me anyway. Now it would be hundreds of miles away instead of my shitty apartment but...” You laughed. 

“I like your place.” He laughed too and shook his head. 

“What about my work? Our friends?” Chan rubbed circles on your back reassuringly. 

“Well, if you want to stay with your company, we could look into you transferring or you could always look for a new position in Sydney if you want a change. Our friends will love and support us, they’ll always be our friends whether we’re five miles or five thousand miles away.” You smiled ear to ear, the tears in your eyes now the sparkly, happy kind. 

“Sydney... together.” You said and Chan nodded, his smile was so big both his dimples appeared prominently. 

“Together baby girl. I love you so much.” You wrapped your arms around Chan’s shoulders and kissed him. 

“I love you too Chan.” He held your face in both hands as he kissed you over and over, each becoming more heated until teeth, lips, and tongues were all fighting for dominance. You crawled onto Chan’s lap, a thick thigh on each side of his legs. You sat down and started rolling your hips against his crotch. Chan lifted the skirt of your dress, and his hands gripped your full ass. Pushing you down to grind on him harder. 

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You pressed against the erection straining his pants, your breaths coming out faster as you worked yourself over him. 

“Chan... I... fuck... I love you.” You were both kissing, pawing, grinding against each other. It was messy, almost frantic, as if the other may evaporate if your touches and kisses ceased. You pulled at each other's clothes clumsily until you got frustrated and sat back on Chan’s legs, gripped the collar of his shirt and ripped the buttons open exposing his firm chest and torso. He never failed to make your mouth water. 

“God damn baby girl!” You pushed Chan’s shirt off and started kissing his neck and shoulder, grazing your teeth across as you continued to ride him. Suddenly Chan rolled and you were pinned underneath him laughing. 

“You’re feisty tonight baby girl but don’t forget who’s in charge here.” You could feel how wet your panties were getting. You loved it when Chan man handled you in bed, he wasn’t scared to get a little rough, throw you around a bit. He was certainly strong enough to and you knew how to get him going. You wrestled against him but it was no use, he was far stronger. He had your arms pinned and you were trapped under him. You gave him those sweet doe eyes of yours and smiled.  

“Channie, baby...” You cooed and leaned in like you were going to start kissing down his neck again. Instead, you bit and then sucked a mark onto Chan’s neck, low enough that a collared shirt would still easily cover it but dark enough he’d have to wear one for a couple days. 

“Fuck, mmmm, I’ll get you for that one when you least suspect it!” Chan laughed aquiesing, sliding the straps of your dress down and pulling it off you. When he had the garment discarded it revealed the black lace lingerie you had worn especially for the occasion. He sat back on his knees, his legs now straddling you. Chan bit his fist and closed his eyes trying to get a hold of himself. His dick had never been so hard in his life, he was certain of it. There you laid underneath him in a matching black lace bra, garter belt and panties. Stockings that stopped just before covering the tops of your thick thighs. Chan lost it. 

“Oh my god, you are fucking incredible!” his lips attacked your neck and chest, licking, kissing, biting, marking you. Groping you over the sheer lace that did nothing to actually cover you but was effective in its intended purpose, which was driving Chan wild. He pulled down the cups of the lacy bra and started to squeeze and then suck on your breasts, gliding his tongue over one nipple before giving the other a similar treatment. You threaded your fingers through Chan's curls as he migrated further down your body, kissing and licking a fiery trail in the process. He bit at your garter belt and pulled at it with his teeth before continuing his way down your body. When his mouth stopped just over your lace covered mount you started to squirm. You could feel his warm breath as he hovered over your cunt. You started to whine. 

“Channie please...” He smirked up at you. 

“Please what baby girl?” You blushed because you knew what he wanted to hear, you propped yourself up on your elbows. 

“Please baby, lick me, here.” You ran one hand down your body, slid your fingers into your cunt and Chan’s eyes darkened. He grabbed your hand pulling it out of your lacy panties and stuck your fingers in his mouth, sucking your juices off, humming contently. 

“Mmmm you taste so good...” Chan wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you closer, burying his face in your clothed pussy. 

“You smell good too beautiful and you asked so nicely. How could I possibly say no.” Chan pushed your panties to the side and drug his tongue through your folds.  

“Oh, oh, fuck!” He lifted his head for a second and grinned at you before spreading your labia, pressing his soft lips against your cunt, and sucking your clit. The moan that came out of you went straight to Chan’s dick. He focused, gently licking and then sucking on your clit and then added two fingers, pushing them inside you. 

“Fuck baby girl you’re always so tight, gonna feel so good wrapped around my cock.” You moaned when Chan went back to slowly devouring you, pumping his fingers inside you. He started humming and groaning against your pussy as he pumped his fingers into you harder hitting the spot that made your body buzz. You gripped his hair tightly and pushed his face into your cunt more. 

“FUCKFuckfuck RRRIGHT THERE rrright there! Yes, Chan fucking lick me baby...FUCK... eat me good Channie! You’re gonna make me cum, fingers feel so fucking good inside me!” Chan doubled his efforts and soon had you sailing into the abyss. You came on his tongue as you rubbed yourself against his face. 

“I’m coming, oh... OH! Oh my god Chan, fuck, I-I'm coming!” Chan was practically a maniac, licking, sucking, drinking in every bit of you that he could as he finger fucked you hard through your orgasm. When Chan removed his mouth from your sex he sat back on his knees between your legs, grabbed your panties and ripped them exposing your cunt to him unobstructed. You gasped out surprised. 

“CHAN!” He smirked at you and then gripped your bra partially tearing it making sure your breasts were free and easily accessible to him.  

“I told you baby girl... when you least expected it.” You laughed; Chan loved making you laugh even when you were fucking. Right now, his cock twitched seeing you laying there giggling in that torn up lace. Chan wasted no more time. He grabbed your soft hips and pulled you close, lined up his cock, coated it in your cum and pushed inside you fully. He buried his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder immediately. 

“FUCK! God damn so tight beautiful.” Chan grabbed a hold of your garter belt and pumped into you harder and faster. 

“So big Channie, you fill me up so good baby, harder, fuck me harder!” Chan gave you a sly smile. 

“Say please?” You narrowed your eyes at him and smiled back, two could play this game. You gave Chan your biggest, sweetest fuck me eyes and whined. 

“Please, harder daddy!” Chan involuntarily moaned when you said that unable to hide how much he loved it when you called him that. He dug his fingers into your squishy hips tight and started fucking you hard just like you asked. 

“Does daddy’s good girl wanna get fucked hard? Treat you like a queen but fuck you like a whore? MY whore? Is that how you like it baby girl? Are you gonna cum for daddy?” He kept up his punishing pace and it was your turn to moan out uncontrollably. 

“Fuck yes yes yes! I’m gonna cum daddy please please make me cum!” Chan started rubbing your clit with his thumb as he continued to fuck your hard and deep. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. 

“Let go baby girl, cum for me, cum for daddy.” You saw stars, the whole galaxy behind your eyes as you came on Chan’s cock, coating him in your juices as you screamed his name. 

“CHAN! FUCK!” You laid there somewhere between limp and stiff as Chan fucked you, prolonging your orgasm, letting you ride the wave of ecstasy you were feeling for as long as possible. When you started panting trying to catch your breath Chan slowed down a bit, grabbing both your breasts and squeezing as he slowly slid his cock in and out of your creamy pussy. 

“You gonna let me cum all over this pretty lace baby girl? Fuck! Wanna paint that sexy body.” You nodded and when your head was on straight again, you started begging Chan to cum for you. 

“Please baby cum for me, cover me baby, cum all over my pussy, wanna feel it, so warm, Channie please cum for me!” Chan gripped your garter belt again, fucked you harder and you started to cum again.  

“Fuck fuck fuck Channie baby FUUUUUCK!” Your walls squeezed and fluttered around Chan’s cock. Your sudden orgasm pushed him over the edge, and he started to cum inside you.  

“I’m coming baby girl oh fuck yes, fuck!” He pulled out and stroked himself over you letting the rest of his load coat your belly and garter belt, your torn panties and your mound, as a little started to drip out of your hole.  

“That’s my beautiful girl, fuck you look so good covered in my cum.” Chan rubbed the head of his cock up and down your slit making both of you shudder and twitch from the overstimulation. Chan started getting hard again just looking at you laid out like that. Your plush body flushed, breathless, your big breasts rising and falling quickly. Fucked out in torn up lingerie, running your fingers through Chan’s cum on your soft belly and licking it off.  

“Let’s go clean up baby. I wanna rip the rest of this off you. Then maybe I can wash you up real good with that massaging shower head they have.” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck and then his lips were against the shell of your ear. 

“Maybe bend you over that marble bench in the shower and give you my cock again, unload all over that thick ass this time.” Your pussy clenched and more of Chan’s cum came dripping out. Chan stood up and started walking backwards towards the bathroom, his firm body and his hard cock both proudly on display for you as he beckoned you to follow.  

Chan made you cum twice on the shower head and two more times on his cock before he was satisfied. He came all over your backside and rubbed it all over your ass as he rutted against you. After, you both quickly washed up to get to bed. You were absolutely exhausted by the marathon of fucking you had just had. You curled up under the big soft duvet resting your head in the crook of Chan’s arm that was wrapped around you. He kissed the top of your head then you both settled in and melted together as you fell asleep. 

You were leaning over a very round belly planting your new flowers in the little garden in front of your house while Chan and your son were kicking a soccer ball around the yard together. It was the perfect day to be outside as a family and even though you were due any day and you were supposed to be taking it easy, you had to get these flowers done before this little girl made her entrance into the world. You weren’t doing anything too crazy just sitting and digging in the dirt a little you should be fi- you felt a contraction which wasn’t surprising necessarily, but it was a strong one and then suddenly your sun dress was wet. 

“Uhhh... Chan?” Him and your son turned towards your voice and when Chan saw the look on your face and the wet dress, he knew. 

“CJ it’s baby time little guy. Go grab mommy’s bag and put it in the car while I help her up, okay?” The little boy who had just turned six that year nodded and ran into the house. Chan hurried over to you and you felt another contraction, this one hurt. 

“FFfffuck.” You gritted quietly through your teeth squeezing Chan’s hand. You didn’t want to alarm your son and you tried to not swear like that in front of him if you could help it. Chan held your hand and rubbed your lower back as you did your breathing through the contraction. When it ended you looked up at Chan with tears in your eyes. 

“I know we’ve done this before, but it seems like it was so long ago now. I’m scared Chan.” He smoothed your hair back away from your face and softly kissed your lips. 

“Look at me, okay? CJ is getting your bag, we’re gonna get you to the hospital and everything is going to be fine, okay? How do we get through things? Hmm? Like CJ’s birth, the cancer scare with your mom, like Australia?” You sniffled and wiped your tears as you calmed down. 

“Together.” Chan nodded and smiled, kissing your lips softly again. 

“Together.” 

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

[leavingsunsets]

Heyy!! I hope you're doing good 😎

Could I request a Ryusui x reader where the reader is his complete opposite ? She is more on the introverted side, prefers to be alone, socially awkard,not really confident and pretty insecure...

But yeah, she could not accept Ryusui's advances bc of how insecure she is, thinking he is just flirting with everyone as always haha and that they are opposite so its not gonna work lol

sorry if that's extra specific lol I hope it was understandable as english is not my first language !

Thank you and have a great day !! 😍

Again, thank you for requesting !! No need to be sorry, as being specific helps me actually have a guide on what to write abt !! Anyways, here u go... u have a great day or night too pokie !

"𝔏𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫."

[𝖱𝗒𝗎𝗌𝗎𝗂 𝖭𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋]

The distant sound of waves, and bubbling foam with every splash that lapped against the shore. It flowed against your ankles, dragging the sand with it. Warm.

You tilt your gaze up, and catch sight of the white clouds, only floating lazily above. It felt like a summer trance, where the sun was too bright, and skin too sweaty. Maybe for a moment, you could pretend you were somewhere else.

But before you could even close your eyes, the voice of a familiar captain slips through your sweet daydream.

"[name]!" Ryusui calls out, trudging through the border that fades from grass to sand. Surprised, you snap out of it, acknowledging him back politely.

"Ryu. Hi," you mutter, staring back at the sea. "I thought you were busy with the ship."

The blond hums, slowing his pace. "I was, but I also came to check on you," he places a hand over his peaked cap. "I was wondering where our favorite singer went."

You shoot him a weak smile. "Just taking a break from the others. You know how I am."

He huffs, amused as he stops by your side, enjoying the view. "Some of them are quite the character, aren't they? I think I can still hear Taiju's battle cry from here."

"Like," you snort, "like you aren't as loud."

"True. I am. Does it bother you?" He grins.

"No, no. Of course not," you shake your head, smile turning shy. "I don't really mind if it's you."

"Ooh, very biased, aren't you?" his tone lilts teasingly, "I must be special."

Flushing, you brush it off, hand coming up to rub at your neck. "When are you not, really," you mumble.

"Is this a confession?" Brown eyes gleam, gaze lain on you.

"Wha-" your face erupts in an embarrassed red. "Now that's just too direct!" you sputter out. Goodness. You've always loved his honesty, but it's the bane of you sometimes.

"You're very special to me too, [name]." The corner of his lips quirk, as his expression grows cheeky. "Very much so."

Blush dying down, you shake your head, "No. No, I meant it in a different way." Feeling a little ashamed, you look elsewhere from him, turning your sight back to the sea. You focus on something else, like how the warm water envelops the shore in frothy patterns.

Sand crunches as he shifts. Maybe you should've redirected the conversation to something else. The momentary silence prods at your nerves. Was he basking in the sun?

"You know I like you, right, [name]?" His voice is oddly placid, taking you by surprise. However, the compliment is quick to slide off you.

"I know, I know. The whole 'beautiful creatures' thing." Memories of his little speech come to mind, and you chuckle in humor. Eyes follow the distant sight of seagulls far into the sky.

"That's true, and I don't take back what I said," he replies, and takes a step forward. "But I desire you."

A skip of a beat. Yet, it's so easy to brush off, as you've always done. An awkward laugh bubbles out. "Ryu, I-"

"Je t'aime. Jeg elsker dig. Te amo," he steps close, taking your attention in a bold move. Grabbing your chin, he turns your face towards him. "Ik houd van je, I love you."

Finally, you get to see him in all the sun's glory. A determined gleam in his eyes, honed in on you. Any words you planned, dried out out on your tongue.

"I believe I've made myself clear," he says, oh so casually. For a moment, you stare, shocked, and speechless. Reply, reply, you need to reply, or anything- answer him!

"...I didn't know you could speak Swedish."

...Damn it.

Ryusui chuckles, letting go of your chin. "It's hot out here! How long have you been standing?" Brushing off his sleeve, he adjusts his cap.

In your mind, you're internally screaming.

Ryusui? Ryusui Nanami just professed to you. Something you hadn't even imagined in 10 years or so, if you haven't decided to actively pursue him. RYU. What did he even see in you? What pushed him to confess, TODAY?

"Come on, let's go back." he holds out his hand, so lightheartedly. The blond is so casual about this, so, so casual. How could he be after admitting his feelings?

But then again, Ryu was always this affectionate you, wasn't he? Memories flood into your mind, of every gesture, every glance. Did everything lead up to here, or was this another misunderstanding?

Looking at him, so brightly shining, you can't help but decide to let your worries, the thoughts that cling you down, let go for a minute.

"Yeah. Let's go," you mutter, taking his hand.

The sounds of the crashing waves grow distant with every step. Your chest hums, heart buzzing with a newfound warmth.

[starry-blue-echoes]

I found this old snippet 90% finished in my drafts so W O E, 2k words of Tonio being my favorite character and Mr.Giovanna slowly understanding that he is not in fact Giogio's father anymore <333

(also tw for implied/referenced child abuse since Giorno)

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

Tonio noticed the second the man approached Giorno’s table.

His customers knew better than to do so. They knew the boy was under his personal protection and it was best to steer clear. A greeting hello when the boy arrived, a brief exchange of conversation, an offered treat or trinket was of course allowed, but approaching his booth while Tonio was not present?

That was not common.

In fact, by the time Tonio made it out of the kitchen and to the dining area, the man had gathered quite a bit of attention from the other customers if the glances being cast his way were anything to go by.

The man was practically looming over Giorno’s booth, all but boxing the boy into his seat and talking in a low voice so as to not be overheard. Tonio couldn’t even see Giorno from his spot.

Tonio did not like this.

He did not like this one bit.

So plastering on his best Customer Service Smile, he approached.

“Excuse me sir,” he spoke up, keeping his voice light and pleasant. “My apologies, but at this establishment you must wait to be seated.”

The man turned to face him, not moving away from the booth and instead attempting to slide a softer, kinder mask over his features.

Hm.

It was sloppy, Tonio couldn't help but note. Sure the facial expressions were… passable, he supposed, but his body language was all wrong. Maybe spending so much time amongst the real dangers in Italy had made him a bit of a snob, but honestly this was laughable.

“Ah, you misunderstand sir, I’m not here to eat, though I have heard good things about this restaurant.” the man waved him off with what was supposed to be a lighthearted chuckle that only succeeded in feeling patronizing. “I’m here to pick up my son.”

“Oh?” Tonio responded with a slit tilt of the head, and a cold, cold feeling slipped into his gut. “You’re this boy’s father then? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Step father, technically.” Mr.Giovanna explained, the veiled insult sailing clear over his head. “His mother already had him when I stepped into the picture, but I see and love him as my own.”

His smile got tighter when he saw Giorno, kind, smart, shy Giorno who loved frogs and ladybugs and the color pink and listening to Tonio talk about recipes, flinch.

“I see.” was all he offered.

Tonio knew so little. So, so little. Part of him knew it was purposeful. That he was giving himself plausible deniability. An empty comfort.

But he knew enough. He’d always known enough. More than enough really.

And now it was looking him dead in the eyes and spitting in his face, daring him to lie down and take it.

“Well, it’s getting late. We’d best be getting back to the house before your mother starts dinner. Come along, Giorno, you’ve taken up enough of this man’s time.” 

How long has he been standing idly by as he’d seen Giorno hurt? 

How many times has he knowingly allowed Giorno to return to that sorry excuse of a family? 

How many times has he merely nursed his injuries instead of doing anything to stop them from happening in the first place?

Well no longer.

“Actually, sir.” he interrupted. “I have some…. concerns I’d like to speak with you about.”

The man froze before slowly turning toward him.

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes and he not very subtly squared his shoulders to make himself look bigger.

“Oh?”

How funny. The man thought he was intimidating.

Tonio had done a bit of asking around about Giorno’s family when the boy hadn't been present. Nothing too nosey of course, just the standard gossip that was floating around which he generally got quite a lot of. 

And the results of his findings were quite fruitful.

Mr.Giovanna had a temper and was somewhat quick to anger, and he’d had a few dealings with the underworld, but that was as all. The man wasn't anyone important nor did he have any connections whatsoever.

He was just a simple, ordinary, powerless man.

A man who in the long run wouldn’t be able to do a thing to Tonio.

Tonio did not normally like taking advantage of his position, of the power he had at his fingertips. The near crippling fear of entrenching himself further and further into this world always had held him at bay, but in this moment he was more than willing to make an exception for this.

“Yes.” he made a slight show of stepping slightly closer to Mr.Giovanna and the booth seat, closer than was socially acceptable and a clear challenge to the man’s current proximity to Giorno. “And in all honesty, I’m not quite certain I feel comfortable allowing you to leave with this boy.”

“And for what reasons would that be?” Mr.Giovanna was openly glaring at him now, trying and failing to loom over a man who had a few centimeters on him.

“I notice things, Mr.Giovanna.” Tonio spoke, keeping his words clipped and flat lest his rage bubble over. “Giorno has been a patron in my restaurant for well over a year now, and I am not nearly as blind or stupid as you appear to think of me. I may be a chef, but I am also very familiar with the practices of medicine and the healing processes of the human body.”

Sometimes Tonio loathed this skill of his. Of seeing the way people moved and being able to pinpoint exactly what was wrong, of seeing the lethargy and careful movements and stiffness and knowing of the presence of bruises or cigarette burns or broken skin.

(In a bitterly comforting way, Giorno had always liked that part of him. Of their shared skill. He said it made him feel less alone and less strange)

Mr.Giovanna simply sneered at him. “And why exactly are you paying so much attention to little boys?”

His rage surged at the accusation, howling and throwing itself against the cage he’d locked it inside, only made worse by the man’s smugness as though he’d just won and Tonio would back down.

Oh how he longed for his butcher’s knives. They cut through skin and muscle like warm butter and would so easily make short work of the man before him.

“You know very well that is not what I’m talking about.” much to his dismay, his calm mask had begun to crack at the edges, his voice growing more tense and taught with every prolonged moment. This man was managing to slide through every crack of his carefully constructed walls in ways the most vile, loathsome mafioso couldn’t, and all with hardly more than a few words.

This needed to end soon. Before Tonio did something he would regret. For Giorno’s sake.

“I am not going to allow you to leave this establishment with this child unless you can offer me a reasonable explanation for why he comes here with bruises every single week, and that is final.” 

A lie of course, he wasn’t letting Giorno go anywhere with this pathetic excuse of a father, no matter what excuses he scrounged up.

“Well I don’t owe you shit.” he snapped back, forgoing excuses and even denial of the accusations completely. At the very least, it seemed Tonio was getting under Mr.Giovanna’s skin just as badly. “I am going to be taking my son and we are going to leave. Giorno, come here right n-” but as the man tried to move Tonio out of the way and make a grab for the boy, Tonio grabbed his arm in an ironclad grip.

The man froze, surprised either by the strength or by the audacity.

Tonio’s expression didn’t falter.

“I think it would be best for you to leave, sir.”

For a second all was calm.

And in the next, pure fury overtook the man’s face.

The punch was quick and powerful, and Tonio barely had a moment to realize what was happening before he had both hands on the booth table to support his weight with a blooming pain in his jaw. With one of his hands he hesitantly brought it up to test the area, but while it would undoubtedly bruise and was rather tender, nothing felt broken or severely damaged.

Tonio should have seen the punch coming, but alas, hindsight is 20/20. He partially expected a second blow…. but it never came.

In fact, Mr.Giovanna was being awfully quiet.

His grin which had temporarily been chased from his face found itself sliding back into place once more.

It seemed the man finally noticed. Now that their conversation had reached a small pausing point, it was likely that much more obvious, but Tonio still couldn’t help but internally chuckle at the man’s horrendous observation skills.

It was dead silent in the restaurant.

The clicking of silverware, the murmur of conversation, the footsteps of the waitstaff, all of it had vanished into thin air.

And as Tonio stood back up to his full height, one merely needed to glance around the room to see why.

Every single customer and staff member was staring at them.

And not one was happy.

Expressions ranged from murderous fury to offended disgust to cold disapproval. Weapons of all types were in hand: knives, firearms, utensils, even a few Stands had joined the fray.

Sometimes being neutral felt like a curse, but in this moment? In this moment Tonio had never felt freer.

Because everyone respected the rules inside Trattoria Trussardi.

And those who didn’t……

“You’ve broken the rules, Mr.Giovanna.” Tonio spoke, a grin still on his face. Only now he let the pleasantries fade away. Now, he let his grin stretch wide and manic, filled with teeth and not quite reaching his eyes.

To an outsider, it was downright predatory.

And Mr.Giovanna, finally realizing the lion’s den he had stumbled headfirst into, froze.

But Tonio did not care.

Not one bit.

He nudged the man to the side with the back of his hand, and didn’t even resist the urge to wipe it on his apron afterwards. He’d need to wash his hands later, wouldn’t want the food suffering from whatever filth that man possessed.

“Giorno,” he asked quietly, his body relaxing and growing soft at the bright, vibrant hope sparkling in the boy’s eyes. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

Giorno’s eyes widened, growing glossy and shiny yet not a single tear spilt.

“I would.” he said in a hushed whisper, as though the words would break if he was too rough with them, and in Tonio’s heart the only regret he felt was that he hadn’t done this sooner.

He gently grabbed Giorno’s hand to tug him away from the booth seat with as much gentleness as he could, leading him toward the back door that led to the stairs up to his apartment. Giorno’s hand was so small, yet it clung to Tonio’s like a lifeline.

He would call Doppio later tonight to help with the paperwork, of course after Giorno had eaten and gone to sleep. He had more than enough spare funds for the shopping trip that would be required tomorrow, but it would also likely be best to ask if there was anything Giorno wanted from his now-ex-parents house. He’d likely have to rearrange some furniture upstairs, Giorno would need his own room obviously, maybe cash in a favor or two to help, and of course possibly transferring schools which meant even more paperwork-

But that was tomorrow. Tonight, he got to look forward to a nice, calm dinner that for the first time since inviting Doppio in wouldn’t be alone. 

And just as he nudged Giorno through the door…

“Marco.”

“Yeah Boss?”

Tonio liked Marco. A good head on his shoulders, a competent host and waiter, had potential for a manager position, always called in ahead of time if gang work interfered with his schedule, and on the rare occasion things got out of hand he was good at regaining order.

“I’m temporarily waiving the ‘no violence’ rule.” Tonio said. “Make sure nobody breaks anything important and if things get too noisy, see to it that it’s moved elsewhere.”

Marco’s eyes lit up with an emotion he didn’t dare to place, but his face remained stoic. “‘Course, Boss.”

Tonio looked back to the restaurant, his eyes soft and smile warm in a way that did not match the manic and horrifying implication of his words in the slightest.

“You have 30 minutes. Try to keep the mess to a minimum.”

The future looked bright and Tonio felt happy.

[lowkeyrobin]

mcyts with a music artist partner? more specifically a singer/drummer but whatever works best would be neat !!

ooooo I like all these musically inclined readers I'm getting [does the evil villain finger laugh] ; I tried to do 50/50 with both singer and drummer so djsnnsnss ; rlly couldn't think of any new ideas for more people so I'm sorry LMAO

MCYT ; singer/drummer reader

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu & quackity

warnings ; language

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

constantly brags about you being in a band, even though you're the drummer and most drummers are very overlooked

he's your biggest fan, no one will be able to top him

he'll post clips and basically make a scenepack of you doing your thing during gigs to influence people editing you and give you some attention

your band already has a couple thousand fans on top of the monthly listeners and followers, and people were already starting to edit with your music/your performances

he'll constantly post pictures of you behind your drum setup, he thinks its so badass

you guys have that moment where he basically sits on your lap (/ns) and you hold his wrists to show him certain chords and shit

"what's the stuff around your fingers for?"

"prevents strain in my hands and protects jammed knuckles"

"ohhhhhh. keep doing that. it's healthy and badass"

RANBOO

totally infatuated with the fact you're a singer

"look at my famous partner guys, go show them some love please, their music is so good"

they will be at every single gig, recording you like it's a concert

plays your music on stream all the time

listens to your music religiously, whether it be traveling or cleaning the house

loves looking at fanart where you're like singing to him in the crowd and he obviously sticks out like a sore thumb

you guys karaoke your music on stream all the time

if you make heavier music/scream a lot in it, he goes silent for you to do all that LMFAO

will break out the GarageBand to make you beats so you can on site make up lyrics like a rapper BAHAHAH

FREDDIE BADLINU

finds it so cool you can play drums

sometimes he'll sit down with you while you're practicing and play guitar behind you while you can't hear

yk like the drumset charlie spring has? you got one of those now, that way you can play without making a ton of noise, especially while he's sleeping or streaming

loves putting stickers on your cymbals and your bass drum

loves taking pictures of you with finger tape on to just stare at later

constantly brags about you being in a band and always listens to your music

even uses your music in videos and stuff

in the desc he'll put a little "my partners band ____ is playing in the background, go check them out!"

thinks you're so badass for playing drums LMAO

he also tries to play them while you guide his hands

cutie patootie

NIKI NIHACHU

thinks you're so fucking cool

will always record you at gigs

and loves putting finger tape on for you

changes her insta bio to "claimed by a bitch who plays drums 🙏🙏" or something like that

you learn how to cover some of her favorite songs and she's literally so excited

your band make pins or lanyards or any sort of merch? it's all sold out now, she's bought it all

will play your music on stream and shout out the name and leave link to the merch store at any given chance

always reposting fanart she sees of you/you two together

especially if it's you on your drums playing for her

ALEX QUACKITY

you're the voice to his guitar because he's too shy to show off his true singing voice

(the I got a feeling that tonight we are getting 2 subs clip)

obsessed with your voice

also records you at gigs

if he's at the barrier you'll constantly wave to him or wink at him, etc etc

all to make him flustered 💪💪💪

will constantly plug your band and always wears your merch

hypes you up if you're having writers block with lyrics or are having one of those days where you feel like you don't sound good

if you're singing along to a song, he'll tune in only to your voice and not the song at all

simp

[novistarplanet]

labyrinth

MafiaBoss!Tenko Shimura x F!Stripper!reader

summary: while working your regular shift one night you caught the eyes of the head mafia boss

cw:choking,unprotected sex,DUBCON,fingering,creampie,reader has a hard life :(, stripping, abandonment,mature language,some nudity,drugs, alcohol, issa lot, also hitting?

wc:3,5k words

a/n: I hope yall enjoy this! it literally took me FOREVER to finish this I enjoy this oneshot I think it's intriguing!

also if you like my work don't be shy to reblog,heart, comment and fllw Thanks!

As the neon color sign of a woman flickers from the outside loud music could be heard blasting from all sides of the illuminated building. Both men and women are filling different areas with money and looking for a one-night stand. The entrance has a long line of people, and everybody knows that the club is controlled by notorious gang members, but no one cares as long as they could find a young native woman to love on for the night.

Your "parents" abandoned you at a young age for the need for drugs, and any other "parent figures" you have come across treated you as distant as compared to their other biological children.

They jump at the offer to pay for their textbooks and any other college expenses. Yet, you were stuck here connecting with a pole every night to continue to endure your miserable life.

Leaving you to deal with college and the stress it came with. Tuition already is kicking you in the ass, being sleep-deprived, doubling, tapping it. That's why you're here, currently getting ready to do a private dance for old seniors who requested you.

They could be tolerable during their failed attempts at trying to sleep with you. Sometimes tipping extra to take shots with them but most of your clients, if you could even call them, comprise middle-aged men grabbing your ass and trying to pull your bra off.

"Don't you think you're a little too young for this?"

"A pretty girl like you shouldn't be here getting dirty for men"

"CMON' sweetheart, let daddy take care of ya. "

You turns and plasters on a forced smile " Yea but a good girl takes care of herself" followed that up with a wink you seductively let your bra strap fall as the beat continues to slow down and the tempo of your hips picks up. Occasionally making eye contact mostly, you look away. The money comes in touch with your skin with a bunch of slick smirks and whistling you waved off.

The slow dance song soon cuts off as you get up and rounded up the money into your bra. Swinging your hips side to side exiting the stage as the next song emerges and a new girl goes on to perform her set on the pole. Heading towards the bar, occasionally smiling and winking, sitting down and waiting for the bartender (Hikaru) to be done serving.

Hikaru worked here for years and knew everything about the club and even met the owners. He faces you and walks your way, bottles in each hand. "ayyy Y/N, whatta you need another' shot?" putting the bottles right back on the display stand. Scanning across the selection of different color bottles about a few seconds later, you settled on a favorite of yours, pointing right at the translucent bottle directly in front of you. "ya pass me a shot of vodka ".

He turns around and pours the liquid as it fills the tiny shot glass. Swiftly sliding it over towards you, "Here kid goes easy on it, kay?" despises his warning you tilt your head back and dump the vodka down your throat. Immediately feeling the stinging hand sanitizer sensation in your throat that spreads quickly, making you release a horrible groan and twisting your face in an instant. "told should ya... shoulda listen t'me"

Once the stinging slowly disappeared, you started speaking again. "mhm, what type of bartender are you? Poisoning your clients, you need to be fired if you asked me. " You both burst into a fit of laughs. The bottle reappears in front of you again and the liquid shines as it pours into your drink.

"Looks like you got yourself some customers Waitin on ya" With a teasing tone you rotate your head around to see his point somewhere off in the distance you turn around to see what he's pointing at "I don't see nothin' ' He chuckles white teeth appearing for a quick second he raises his hand acquainted with another expensive bottle and points again you look up and that's what you see. A group of men all dressed in sloppy suits motioning you to come here.

You rise, sigh while doing so, finishing your short live break and making your way over to the group of men when unexpectedly you felt a set of warm hands grabbing onto your upper arm tugging it back slightly and a high pitch feminine voice spoke.

" Y'n said he needs you backstage!" batting her eyelashes at you and glitter smeared all over her face while her breath hinted at tropical fruitiness and a wide smile as redness appeared on her face.

Adjusting your top and shoving your wad of cash back into your top as it comes off your scoff with your reply. "He can wait. I'm busy"

You couldn't care less what that jackass wanted to do to you here for 1 thing and 1 thing. Only you'll be damned if you're out here doing side missions.

"but he said it was super important he needed you in 1 of the VIP rooms" whining still tugging your arm to follow her then she leaned in into your face and raised one of her hands to cover the side of her mouth, " He says the real REAL owners are here!" vibrant fruit smell smothering your face area in an instant eyebrow forming together in confusion as she speaks

Now everyone in the club knows Yoko isn't exactly a calm person. She's like a hyper chihuahua wagging her tail so this "whisper" wasn't exactly a whisper

"pleaseee y'nnnn I can't go up there I have a private client in a couple of minutes and, luna is in the back high again!" eyes completely forming into huge puppy eyes and sympathy fills your body rapidly as you speak before thinking "fine, but you owe me huge for this"

a big grin floods her face, jumping up and now as her 6-inch heels make a clicking sound each time her titties jiggle with each jump motion "Cmon now! He said he wants you there NOW!" In a quick flash you're being dragged towards a dark beige elevator and the last thing you hear is Hikaru.

"Good luck in their kid' you gunna need it" a wide shit-eating grin emerging on his face

Well, you think it is elevator doors quickly shutting and the more your anxiety displayed buttons glowing yellow as on the tiny screen with each floor passing runs wild. You heard a lot of things about the owner, none of them good things from them laundering drugs to ordering hits to be taking place in the club and-

DING DING DING

the elevator doors open and it greeted you with the sight of your boss (boss name) grabbing your arm and shoving Yoko in the process with a loud "huff" sending her back into the small room with the door quickly closing in front of her

"wait yo-" "enough of that. We gotta get you in here quick" as the both of you speed walk you couldn't help but notice the interior of the room you were in.

A gold chandelier hangs from the top of the ceiling, with multiple paintings of naked pictures of women in various positions. Lights that dressed every area in the room weren't the kind downstairs. No, these were the type that subtlety blended into it and didn't hurt to see when to stare at them for too long

Everything was so polished, even the floor was spotless. Now to think about it, you had been walking for a very lo-

"Okay listen to me if you fuck up even once you're the only one with enough experience Yoko is a bird Brain as well as she can't even walk in her heels and Hana can't even count to 10 and most of the other girls are new and still in training your the only one who has enough, to do this." He rants.

he eyes piercing into your soul for a response,

anxiety once again pierced through you as you mumble a yes before you can even agree to what you're saying

"Great!" a smile suddenly plastering on his face, immensely shifting his mood "Oh yeah, just to be clear if you mess up even once you'll have the boys take care of ya"

What the hell is this pep talk?

"Okay bye Y'n" waving at you and leaving in the process

'WAIT WHA-"

--------

"Okay OKAY you got this just go out there and dance you do it every single day" you whisper to yourself

you open the door slowly making a sound of a creep peeking in and pushing your forehead in trying to get a good image of the man surrounding the booth.

One had velvety soft silky white hair, the kind that was inside the expensive pillows, the ones that they have publicly displayed at Macy's. Escorting his features were 2 arms filled with tattoos, some of samurai's and others of Maneki Nekos, but he had delicate freckles that sprinkled his face with a strong contour nose.

The other man was dressed up in all-black clothing with a large top hat. You really couldn't identify his features because of the large white mask he was wearing but you could tell he was sexy as he let out a low deep laugh with the other white blonde male with outgrown facial hair over his face.

Now deep inside you purr. Maybe this isn't so bad now.

"tch twice where the hell is my drink?" suddenly a profounded voice made an appearance you couldn't help but drop your mouth at.

The tall man had gray, pale skin covered in scratches and beauty marks, with one being very present below his lip. A large succulent scar decorated the top of the other side. Shabby blue unkempt locs cover his crimson eyes.

Now it's time to put on your big girl panties and do it.

You open the door and you take in what you see. The men didn't promptly notice. you at first. They were too busy with servants walking around with bottles of alcohol and food being brought in and taken out.

Voices blended to create one loud noise, overshadowing the music itself

Well, here goes nothing

Bracing yourself, you walk up onto the stage and dance. Everything around you got. Quiet. You can tell all their focus was. On you now, you could finally hear the music and match your movements to the rhythm of the beat.

as you keep your concentration on the pole and the music you look out at the part of the couch where the man was surrounded and noticed the tall man staring at you immediately his crimson eyes contacting yours as he licked his lips his wandering eyes trailing up and down your body out the most definitely have to ask about you later.

Drawing him out of your mindset.

Just don't focus on him. He's not there

he whistles towards you slowly, raising his long finger and motioning you to come to him.

You ignored him and kept dancing. Your leg wraps around the pole. Your arms pull your body. Up well your other arms support your body achieving a very complex move complex but sexy move.

Just as you lower your body to shake your ass to the music, someone pulls you down from the stage and another girl replaces you.

"hey put me down!!!"

hitting this person's chest and kicking your legs just as a toddler would throw a tantrum and struggling in this tightness feeling each step being taken down.

"I said put me DOWN!"

"you're never gonna stop bitching, are you?"

gradually looking up realizing He was carrying you from the stage abruptly his grip on you became tighter and tighter

It was a pregnant moment of silence. He deadpans for the moment no words are spoken between you two.

He stares at you and you stare back, focusing on his handsome features. Multiple brown little moles are present across his face like a constellation, tiny little scars and scratches here and there on his face, and a tattoo that covers his neck portraying Adam's apple as it bobs slightly.

"So is that a yes?" he sounds bored and unimpressed. You can physically feel the tension rising between you too.

"Wait huh?" your eyebrows start to knit together, scouring his face for a clear answer.

"I asked if you wanted to fuck or not," so nonchalantly glaring at you for a moment with no remorse just like y'all have met before.

you couldn't lie you were turned on by all the dominant aura he was spilling just from his hand gripping your right booty cheek and his breath doused with hints of cognac.

"Yes"

the words leaving your lips in a trance staring here at this unknown man right in front of you wanting to fill your hunger.

he plunged his lips onto yours in a fast and tender way, his tongue breaking the closed force within your lips directly finding your tongue wrapping around it while his hand crawls towards the back of your head and smashes it

it was sloppy and messy but you loved it

ripping apart, leaving strands long of clear saliva hanging unhitch breathing, trying to end its momentum.

This was chaotic.

-----------

"HEY SHIG THEY BOUGHT THE DRINK YOU ASKED FOR" The same blonde male with a scar crossed down his face reappears drinks in hand and a drunkenly smile plastered on his face

His head shakes in response. His nose scrunches with annoyance and distaste

"but you sai-"

THUD

slamming the door mid-sentence mumbling something under his breath about how much there were idiots unexpectedly facing your eyes, lighting up with amusement

strong arms wrapping around your waist lifting you into his hands

For the short time you have known him you realize he's stubborn and insists on carrying you regardless of your protests about how heavy you are.

even though you're more than capable of using your own two legs.

as the two of you walked well one you noticed Short wrinkle structures forming in the middle of his eyebrows as he grumbled something about you being heavy

However, you still let him carry you away. You placed your head on his chest listening to his even heartbeats

looking back up at him, maybe you can help him relax a bit?

your hands trailing across his chest, traveling upwards to his neck, placing small kisses on his jaw snuggling into his neck

"Don't tease or else you'll pay," his voice sounds condescending. He instantly grabs your hand and stops your advances

"Oh and why is that?" holding back your giggle as you look up at him calling his bluff

he stops in his direction and slowly looks down at you

"If you don't stop acting like a goddamn brat, imma fuck you like one" the profound growling voice with bass backup in his tone making you shiver

heat pools towards the bottom of your legs causing you to grind your legs together.

despite all the teasing, you're here in one of the private rooms

blinking rapidly at the new environment turning your head around to get a good view. It was very similar to the hallways with multiple women naked but this time engaging in sex acts.

The bed had pretty big red covers and shiny white smooth sheets probably made of 1000 thread counts of Egyptian cotton along with a bed white headboard.

abrupt yelp rips through your throat when you realize you are no longer in his tough embrace your currently in the air landing in the bed with a loud

THUD!

"what in the hell was that for?" attempting to even your bumpy breathing "What is wrong with him!?!?!?"

a slow sinister smile creeps on his face as removes his shirt and crouches his body making eye-level contact with you

"i'll show you how bad girls get punished "

"HUH"

hands quickly going under the back thigh raising them and taking a dive into your sweet folds heavy breaths against your heat as his tongue shimmies into your pussy like a caterpillar crawling into his cocoon

"mhmm"

hearing your sweet voice moan out in pleasure as your long white acrylics go falling into his forest of blue messy locs like velcro sticking to cotton tilting back various sounds of moans fanning out

sandwiching in between your soft thighs leaving bite marks each time you jerk your body using his hands to spread your legs to the farthest they can go while keeping you in place

this wasn't supposed to happen you were supposed to come to work, dance, and make money not fuck some stranger in the private rooms

"so fuckin good for me y/n wanting to please your master, huh?"

your eyes busting open looking at him with confusion

"how in the hell did he know your name????"

He consumes you whole during a short time drinking your wetness like he was a starving man in the savanna gliding his tongue across your delicate pussy taking his time to spell out his name until his pouty pink lips come across your soft puffy clit like a pirate finding his treasure

"damn princess we really gonna have some fun now" focusing all his attention towards your clit swirling and sucking on the swollen bud taking two of his fingers and shoving them in your feeding them into you swirling them around in you letting you accept his long girth. Clear liquid trickles downward to your cheeks.

he can't help himself painting his tongue all over you putting his head away and looking at the masterpiece he's made of you. drooling all over, legs twitching, and gasping for air, your lower bottom half cramping up with an orgasm.

you bring your hands up desperately trying to move all the strands of hair wet with sweat

he pulls away looking down at your messy pussy getting up from the bed as his hands leave the warmth of your body

"Hey! " feeling the once powerful orgasm pressed against you rapidly fading away using your elbows to raise your limp body up

you stopped in your tracks noticing he wasn't leaving

He was getting ready.

His pants are degraded on the floor as he gets onto the bed crawling towards your sprawled-out body on the bed.

he leans in into your face you can hear his rough uneven breathing

"Can I hit you?"

you nodded

then he took your chin into his hand squeezing tightly redirecting your head to look him in his eyes

"open your mouth and say you understand"

"yes"

"Yes, what?" your chin still in his warm palms this time squeezing harder and shaking it

"yes you can hit me"

without a warning, he lets go of your chin and lets his hands encircle your throat

taking his other hand and wrapping it around his hard, throbbing cock, his eyes concentrating on your wet pussy. the tip of his cock was an enraged pink a hot pink and throbbing against your heat

he guided his cock slowly against your slit up and down and down and up all around rubbing the tip against the bundle of sensitive nerves

shit how was that thing going to fit inside you

All thoughts were pushed aside when you felt an intrusion entering your gummy walls, his hands going back to your clit rubbing at a much faster pace than before easing himself inch by inch watching your fat pussy take him in.

“P-please,” blinking away the tears through your eyelashes causing them to blur up your vision

"oh? So this is what you want" His hips slap into you causing a wave of pleasure to come through your body. "your such a good whore taking me all nicely"

His lewd words caused your pussy to clench around him embracing his length as it accepted his thrusts. His muffled moans and the rhythm of his hips begin to build up inside your tummy again

as a ring of white at the base of his cock formed and begins to spread as he enters in and out slapping you out of your thoughts and leaning in “Make eye contact with me”

you were taking deep breaths feeling another organism creep up

“Too much” You put your hands on the wrinkled bed sheets trying to push up your body and wiggling your hips from under him. attempting to run away.

“ah ah, you’re supposed to be looking at me.” pulling your hands down again as his cock makes a "pap" "pap" sounds as it bangs against your abused cunt

His thrusts get sloppier and uneven you can tell he was getting close you both are

your walls clenching tightly forcing his cock to twitch inside of you feeling him emptying himself inside of you hot cum creeping out your abused pussy in its disheveled state

“shit my bad I got carried away”

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

A Shade of Gray: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: Your abilities are put to the test when you have to gather evidence based on what your psyche is telling you. Hotch believes in you, and that’s the only thing that matters. 

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

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"To lose a child is to lose a piece of yourself." - Dr. Burton Grebin

A seven-year-old boy is missing, and it's up to your team to find him before the worst happens. Cherry Hill, New Jersey used to be a quiet suburb to live in, but when news broke out about this little boy, it sent everyone into a panic. Hannah lives in Cherry Hill, but before you go getting her hopes up that you can see her, you're going to focus on the case and see how much time you have afterward.

There are reporters up the Murphy family's ass. They just lost their little boy, the least anyone can do is give them time to grieve. That's why you're here, you can shoulder the burden that is the press. Sarah and Dan Murphy lost their little boy, Kyle, this morning. They have another son, Danny, who you can imagine is suffering just as much.

The reason why you got here so quickly is that two other little boys were taken and killed within twenty-four hours. The worst-case scenario is that there is a pedophile murderer on the loose. The best-case scenario is Kyle got lost somewhere and is fine.

"What time was he taken?" Derek asks.

"Between midnight and 6 AM."

"Is the MO the same as the other two?"

"Yeah. All of them were abducted in their beds in the middle of the night. The first two were found strangled with blunt force head traumas and dumped in the Wharton State Forest."

You arrive at the Murphy house and see a news reporter talking to the camera with the Murphy family behind her.

"We're just getting word that an amber alert for the tri-state area has been issued. The Cherry Hill Police Department is about to hold a press conference."

Sarah and Dan are in tears for their lost son, but Danny looks bored. He doesn't have any expression on his face that he is grieving, and if he does, then it's forced. Something isn't right. Detective Bill Lancaster steps to the podium they set up so he can talk to the press directly.

"Thank you all for coming this morning. It's important we get this information out to the public as soon as possible. The parents of the missing boy are gonna make a statement. I would ask you to please hold your questions until the end, and I'll answer them directly."

Sarah steps to the podium with her husband and composes herself before speaking.

"My name is Sarah Murphy, and I'm Kyle's mom. This is Kyle's father Dan and his older brother, Danny. My little boy just turned seven this year. He's in... He's in the second grade. Oh, god. I can't. I'm sorry," she cries.

Even from where you are behind the news vans and the crowd forming to watch, you can feel waves of guilt come from the parents. Why would they feel guilty? Sure, it's a natural response when a child is taken, but this guilt is too strong to be considered normal.

What are they hiding?

"Kyle is shy and quiet," Bill takes over for the parents, "but ever since he joined the soccer team, he's really come out of his shell. He's more outgoing. He even scored his first goal. Everyone is so proud of him. Kyle loves to read. He gets that from his dad. His favorite books are about dinosaurs and he knows all of their names."

"I'm glad they took our advice and started the press conference," Emily says.

"Yeah, but it would be nice if there weren't so many people walking all over the crime scene."

"He's allergic to peanuts," Bill continues. "He loves to snack all the time. Whatever happened last night, whoever took Kyle, the Murphys want you to know it's okay. Thank you for finding their little boy. They know it was a mistake. They just want their son back. They just want Kyle back safe and sound."

"What's the theory on what happened to Kyle Murphy?" one of the reporters asks.

"We're just hoping that he's lost, that whoever finds him will bring him back home soon."

"This case is similar to two other cases in Cherry Hill. Those boys were abducted and found in the woods. Do you really don't think there's a connection?"

"We're not ruling that out. We'll keep the public informed of any leads. If you have any further questions, you can contact me at the station. I'm Detective Bill Lancaster. Thank you for coming."

He concludes the press conference and immediately heads over to your team who are waiting patiently off to the side. Only you, Rossi, and Derek are here while the rest set up at the station.

"You guys arrived quickly."

"We don't have a lot of time. Can you show us around?"

"You should have taken this off-property," Rossi advises.

"The truth is, I wanted to do this down at the station. Danny and Sarah didn't want to leave the house, in case Kyle comes back. I'm known as Uncle Bill. We're friends and neighbors. Dan and I grew up around here."

"Your involvement in this case could be a conflict of interest," you say.

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm not gonna stand around while Kyle's still out there. I know the other two cases. I didn't want to admit this to the press, but there is no doubt in my mind that Kyle's the third victim."

It's almost as if Bill wants you to believe this is true. Like he's forcing his views onto you instead of letting you come to your own conclusions.

"You know what we're looking at. Ninety-nine percent of abducted children are killed within the first twenty-four hours."

"I know. I'm gonna go check on them."

Bill leaves and you narrow your eyes in suspicion.

"We saw the pictures of the first two victims. We know what this guy does to little boys. Kyle might be the one percent that makes it. It would take a miracle."

"For his sake, let's hope we get one."

You three walk inside the Murphy home that is covered head to toe in spiritual and aura energy. Sarah, Dan, and Danny are sitting in the living room to comfort each other, but the guilt is stronger now that you're near them. Danny still has the same bored expression on his face, but it looks like he's pretending to care about what's happening. You don't know this family well enough to make this assumption, so you're going to go about this as an FBI agent instead of a psychic.

"Hi, I'm Agent Y/N. May I ask you some questions?"

"Sure."

"Thank you for speaking with me. I cannot stress enough how much time is of the essence here. Abductions from the home are rare, and that allows us to narrow down the suspect pool even more."

"What makes them unusual?" Dan asks.

There is a beat of sweat on his forehead that you notice. It's not uncommon for parents to be stressed or nervous in situations like these, but he seems worried; not for his son but for himself. What the hell is going on here?

"Abductions typically are about timing and opportunity like when a child walks home alone or gets separated at a shopping center, that sort of situation. This is a sophisticated high-risk crime. Whoever did this has good social skills. They're highly functioning and they have a steady job. He wouldn't look out of place to you, and you wouldn't be alarmed if your children were talking to him. So, he may be wearing a uniform like a deliveryman or a mail carrier. Have you noticed anyone hanging around the neighborhood and talking with children?"

"Nothing comes to mind."

"No," Sarah says. "Oh, I don't know."

"Mrs. Murphy? Do you need to take a break?"

"I think I need to--I need to lie down. I'm so sorry," she whispers and leaves.

"Are you able to continue?" you ask Dan.

"Yes."

Dan is more composed than his wife is, but they wouldn't feel guilty about anything unless something happened to their son and they know about it. She passes under the archway separating the living room from the main hallway, and when she walks upstairs, you see Kyle standing at the foot of it. He looks over at you and just stands there with an sad expression on his face.

Your heart breaks knowing he's dead.

This place is covered with the energies of the parents and both sons, but that shouldn't concern you in the way that it is. This is their home, they're going to have their energies here. The thing that concerns you is how dark Danny's energy is. He's a kid so the energy is yellow, but it's not as bright as other kids. He's very angry and you're not sure why.

"Danny, you and Kyle always walk to and from the bus stop together, right?"

"Yeah."

"Have any strangers tried to talk to you or your brother recently?"

"The bus driver asks us questions sometimes. I don't know," he shrugs.

"What time of day do the boys usually play outside?" you ask Dan.

"Well, they both have practice after school. Lately, Kyle's been into video games and Danny loves building model airplanes."

"That actually tells us a lot. I'm going to need you to make a list of everyone who's been in or around your home in the past six months. Whoever took Kyle has probably been in this house before. He watched the family routine, he knew exactly where everyone slept, and he got Kyle out without anyone seeing or hearing anything."

You look over at Danny to see him crying but it looks and feels forced. You feel Danny trying so hard to act like he's sad when you know he isn't. He's only pretending to keep up some act. Why, you don't know yet.

"Daddy, can I go play now?"

"You can go to the family room. I'll be the soon." Danny is too eager to get up and start playing. "He doesn't really understand what's going on."

"Yeah, that's probably for the best. Mr. Murphy, we are going to do everything we can to find Kyle."

"Thank you," he whispers.

It's hard to do your job when there are people not being honest about what's going on. Something doesn't make sense here.

After the first two abductions, Cherry Hill PD compiled a list of registered sex offenders in Camden County. There are four hundred and thirty-nine offenders within a thirty-mile radius of where the boys were taken. They have been knocking on doors and conducting interviews, and haven't been able to come up with anything.

They should have called the FBI earlier because there are a lot of these men you can eliminate right away. Anyone who is new to the area is automatically eliminated because the unsub knows the neighborhood. Anyone who targets females, whose preferential age is over seven, whoever has a specific type of child, and whose victims have only brown and blond hair is disqualified as well.

The thing that doesn't make sense to you is that you find no spiritual trace of anyone besides the Murphy family inside the house. The first two victims were taken from their beds, and if the same thing happened to Kyle, you'd see the unsub's energy.

You leave Dan to create that list of suspects while you join Rossi's side who is in Kyle's room with Bill. You don't want to interrupt them so you opt to get a read on the Detective.

"I cleared our techs out of here. What is it you're looking for?"

"Certain behavior. What happened here will give us a clue about the unsub. Kyle's sheet and blanket were pulled apart and off the bed, toys were stepped on and kicked out of the way, and there was a struggle. That's consistent with the first two abductions. The boys woke up and fought, but this looks a bit more chaotic than the others. When we're finished, have the techs look for any trace of blood or fibers. He may have gagged Kyle."

"In the other two cases, the boys were struck on the head. What if he used the weapon to scare them?" Bill stutters.

Just like that, suspicion arises. The Detective is acting like anyone is going to find out the secret he's been keeping. He keeps looking around the room to make sure everything checks out like he's lying about something. He feels guilty but not as much as Dan and certainly not Sarag.

"He could have. He would have had to act quickly in order to keep Kyle quiet."

"Detective! You need to see this!" someone calls from down below.

"Excuse me."

Bill leaves you and Rossi alone, and once he is out of earshot, Rossi turns to you.

"What theory do you have cooking in that magical brain of yours?"

"The first thing I noticed is how much Sarah and Dan feel guilty; guiltier than how they should be feeling. Their son is pretending to be sad when really, he feels nothing. His energy is dark yellow. There is so much anger in that boy. When he was crying earlier, it felt forced. Bill also feels guilty but not nearly as guilty as the parents."

"Guilty about what?"

"Exactly. That's not all. I saw Kyle downstairs as a spirit. He died, and not that long ago."

"Where are you going with this?"

"This is only a theory, Rossi, but based solely on what I see and feel, I think Danny killed his brother. His parents along with Bill either know about it or were involved, so I don't think it's best if we divulge this theory to him until we know more. I promised Hotch I'd be better at collecting evidence to back up my theories, so that's what I'm gonna do."

"You have my full support. Let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you," you smile.

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