#previously i talked about Body Count's 'No Lives Matter' to him

[desertedvault]

that drunken left-wing friend who misinterprets what you said and uses it as a jumping off point for an apparently uninterruptable speech against your idea which totally misses the point

[sodapopwrites]

the first sign of fall chapter five: as sick as it sounds i loved you first

college au, the inner circle boys and the reader are bartenders.

pairings - eris vanserra x reader, a teensy bit of azriel x reader

summary - at the annual hockey party you have two much needed, long time coming, conversations.

word count - 4.2k

a/n - okay okay guys we're on our way to HEALING. this is good. i don't know man. at least they're all finally starting to communicate a little bit. I mean it's mostly her but hey she is drunk word vomiting. they boys don't have much room to talk. also they're stupid men....so.

read the rest of the series here!

You didn’t want to work. Didn’t want to get out of bed. Didn’t want to do anything. Blankets wrapped around you, cacooning you in a soft straight jacket of warmth. You hadn’t moved in hours despite being awake. Nothing seemed to really matter lately. Your shades were drawn. Darkness shrouding your room. 

Empty. You felt empty. Your apartment a shallow husk of a home. 

You thought of your favorite sweater, still at Eris’ apartment. Your hairbrush and your good pair of sneakers. Plants that had previously sat on the shelves of your room, now resting on the window sill of Eris’ living room. The sleep you had grown accustomed to. Warm and comfortable. His bedsheets cool against your skin and the smell of his cologne drifting through your nose. His fingers combing through your hair. His kisses along your collarbone to wake you up. Wasted. By what? A game you had played along with for traditions sake. For what? 

Eris. The day you had met him. Your freshman year. Two years ago.  In his white cable knit sweater, fraying around the edges. Expensive things he let go into disarray as if he didn’t care. A carefully curated look of dishevelment. His smirk and his glittering eyes. The way you could never get yourself to talk to him. The way his swaggering confidence and sharp remarks scared you shitless. The way his eyes would sometimes meet yours across crowded coffee shops, quiet libraries, or crushingly packed parties. Like he could taste just how much you wanted to talk to him. The way you had fallen in love with him from a distance. 

The clock strikes one and you groan. Pulling your blanket over your head and rolling onto your stomach, before sliding out of your bed. Unwilling and unhappy. Fine. Work it is. You couldn’t call out. Rhys would kill you if Cassian was the only bartender. Nothing seemed to get done when Cassian was the only bartender. 

★ ★ ★

“So let me get this straight.” Cassian set several glasses on the counter top and angled his body towards you, “You think that avoiding both Az and Eris is the best way to go about things?” 

You don’t look at him. Shaking your head you continue washing the bar glasses, “I’m not avoiding Azriel. He isn’t talking to me….Just like last time.” 

“Maybe he’s waiting for you to say something.” 

Cassian moved closer to you. Forcing your attention away from the dishes. You huff a breath of vague annoyance and turn to meet his eyes. 

“What am I supposed to say?” 

He didn’t have an answer for you. He shrugged and pulled the glass out of your hands and nudged you away from the sink. Choosing to take your task instead of answering you. You look past him towards the clock on the wall. 

“I have to go. My shift is over and Az will be here any second.” 

“See. Avoiding.” 

You don’t respond as you take off your apron and tuck it beneath the bar, grabbing your bag, and heading for the door. You’re almost in the clear. Almost. You run directly into Azriel as he slides through the doorway. Muttering an apology you try to push past him, but he grabs your arm. Finally you look up from his chest to those hazel eyes, boring into you, studying your every slight facial expression. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it before any words manage to escape. 

“Have uh…have a good shift.” 

With that your out the door. The cold fall wind whipping through your hair and stinging your cheeks red. You stand outside the bar. Out of breath from the one brief interaction with Azriel. The look he gave you still seared into your sightline. You look around the street. Empty, the streetlights just flickering on as it hit dusk, leaves no longer that buttery yellow and orange but a burnt red. Fall in full flush. The crisp air felt like an assault on your lungs. 

A ding from your phone snapped you out of the trance the weather had bewitched upon you. Mor. 

Mor: Come to the party with me tonight. 

You sigh. That was the last thing you wanted to do. The hockey team’s halloween party. The last thing you wanted to do. Another ding interrupts your response. 

Mor: I know you don’t want to go. But if I have to get drunk by myself imagine what could happen to me. 

You chuckle at the vague hint towards a catastrophe. You type out a response, 

You: What could possibly happen to you Morrigan?

Mor: Uhm…I have to be sexy by myself. Which is a damn shame. 

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. Gnawing the already bitten raw flesh. A nervous tick. One that had been rearing it’s ugly head in the last couple weeks. You nod to yourself. Steeling yourself. You could do this. 

You: Fine. 

She didn’t respond. You knew she’d be at your apartment to pick you up in a couple hours anyway. 

★ ★ ★

“Stop fidgeting with your dress. You look good.” Mor hissed at you as you pulled your skirt down for what had to be the fourth time in the last couple minutes. 

The party was loud, the lights were low, and you were already three shots in, and working on your third drink. It was way too strong. One of Mor’s famous concoctions. It seemed the only way to get through this night. Your eyes scanned the room for familiar faces. You knew Azriel would show up. You knew Eris would be there two. Neither of them ever missed this party. You had been constantly scanning the room for Cassian’s towering form, knowing that Az and Rhys wouldn’t be far behind him. Luckily for you they hadn’t shown yet. 

You reached up to rub your neck. There was still a bruise there from where Azriel had sunk his teeth. That light red mark a reminder of the horrible decision you had made. You hadn’t heard from Eris since he told you he was done. You supposed that maybe you should stop expecting to hear from him. But the silence still hurt. It stretched through your mind constantly. That lack of communication. The gravity of the quiet. 

Mor looked you up and down. Her eyes narrowing as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned to face you fully, taking the cup out of your hands and pulling your arms lightly. 

“Loosen up. Come on. Let’s dance.” 

You hang your head and try to pull out of her grip, but when she wanted something she got it. So you begrudgingly let her drag you to the dance floor. Letting your body move with hers as the buzz of your drinks settled over you like a warm blanket. For a couple minutes, as the music washed over you, the bass pumping along with your heartbeat, you let yourself forget. About everything. 

But like all peaceful moments it didn’t last long. Out of the corner of your eye, through the flashing neon lights, and the swarm of people, you caught sight of him. Well you caught sight of a flash of auburn hair and a flash of freckles across cream skin. Eris. His face half covered by a golden mask that looked awfully like a fox. His hand on the small of some girls back. The girl wasn’t someone you knew. Another accessory. He had gone back to being exactly what everyone thought he was. 

You allow girls to accompany you to parties. You don’t date. 

Your words to him swam through your ears. A violet wave of memory. Something sour climbed its way up your throat and into your mouth. You pulled out of Mor’s grasp and searched frantically for a bathroom. Spotting it across the room you made straight for the door. Pushing past everyone. The crowd suddenly suffocating. The people bumping into eachother, jumping, huddled together. The music reverberating through the room. All of it overwhelming. All of it too loud. Suffocating. 

Azriel had just walked into the party. Cassian and Rhysand on either side of him. The first thing he saw was you. Booking it to the bathroom. Your eyes frantic and your hand coming to cover your mouth. He made to follow you, knowing exactly what was about to happen. And then he saw it. Eris had clocked you the same second he had. Both men made eye contact. Standing a couple feet away from eachother. Neither moving. Neither following. 

Eris had seen you before you saw him. You looked damn good. He was absolutley sure that Mor had put you in that outfit. The skirt a little too short. Your hair curled the same way Mor’s always was. You skin gleaming from sweat. The heat of the room making your every inch sparkle a little under the lights. Your eyes closed as you danced. Body swaying in time with the beat of the music. You looked too good. His jaw clenched. He was making sure to get closer to the girl he had brought. Making sure to make it very clear that this was his date. He saw the way your expression shifted. Saw the way the panic in you seemd to surface. It was almost like he heard the saw words you did. 

You allow girls to accompany you to parties. You don’t date. 

He hated every second of it. Every second of get back. But if he had to play the part. For you. For your friends he would do it.  Play the asshole. Be whatever it is that they wanted him to be. Over you? Yeah sure he could play pretend for a night. It was nothing right? It was casual. No labels. Just company. 

Eris thought of when he first saw you. His sophomore year. Two years ago. In your leather jacket. Your hair cut short. Your quiet remarks to your friends that always seemed to make them laugh. The blush that would spread across your cheeks when he’d meet your gaze. When he’d notice the way you stared. The way you were always flanked by your guard dogs. Cassian and Azriel. Sometimes Morrigan and Amren. Always too accompanied to approach. Your coy smile and your heavy lashes. A sight for sore eyes at every suffocating party and overly heated coffee shop. An ever present distraction. The way he would laugh louder to see if it would draw your attention, and it always did. The way that he had finally gotten you alone at the start of term party this year. When years of passing interaction, casual hellos, and a warm smile had finally gotten him into your life. 

And then he saw Azriel. Saw how Az noticed you fleeing the dance floor just as he did. Noticed the way that his body was arched into your pursuit the same way his own was. Both feeling that incessant need to make sure you were okay. Their eyes met. Play the part. Let him have it. Be what they want you to be. He broke eye contact with Azriel and bent his head in submission. Go on. The motion seemed to say. You play your part and I’ll play mine. Eris leaned back down to the girl he had brought. Pretending to listen to whatever she was saying as his eyes trailed Azriel to the bathroom. Nodding, not paying attention as he followed shadowsinger across the floor and stood at the closed bathroom door, listening to the conversation held within. 

★ ★ ★

You didn’t want to throw up. You paced the small bathroom clutching your stomach. You were a bartender for fucks sake. If you couldn’t hold your alcohal then what was the point? You clenched your eyes shut and shook your head. Trying not to let anything come up. Slowly you sank to the ground. Letting your head fall against the wall behind you, your hand clutching the rim of the toilet as if in preparation for what was to come. 

The door creaked open and Azriel slid into the room. White t shirt, soaked with blood, clinging to his frame. His hair greased and parted down the middle. A plastic curved knife tucket into the belt loop of his jeans. Billy Loomis. Of course he had dressed up as Billy Loomis. You had watched scream together last year. You vaguely remembered telling him he’d look damn good dressed up like that, before Cassian snorted and said something about it somehow not being emo enough and god forbid Az wear anything but a black shirt. 

He crouched down next to you. Slowly pushing the hair out of your face and moving your body towards the toilet. Holding your hair in one hand and gently brushing a hand over your back as he whispered, 

“Just let it out.” 

You shook your head. Humming your disagreement. But the movement of your body, the small shift in your position, the shake of your head. It sent you over the edge and you lurched over the toilet. Wretching and coughing. Azriel softly shushed you, trying his best to be comforting, trying to be soothing. He had held your hair back while you vomited more times than he could remember. Freshman year was your black out drunk year and he remembered it well. 

Slowly you raised your head, blinking through watery eyes at Azriel. His concerned expression did nothing to calm the storm in your stomach. In your head. You sucked in a shuddering breath and he tilted his head. 

“Why do you only like me when I’m sad?” 

Your question was like a knife to his gut. A sharp, achingly cold, pain twisting it’s way through his organs. He slightly shook his head as if he didn’t understand. You sniffled, hiccuping slightly as you continued, 

“You dont…You only want me when you can’t have me or when I’m so fucking distraught that I can’t think straight.” 

Twisting. Pushing deeper. That knife. Like you wanted his insides to spill out and his blood to drench your hands. 

“Why?” 

A whisper. Small and pleading. He couldn’t think of something to say. His mind completely blank. You push his hands away from you. Off your shoulder and out of your hair. Scrambling away from his contact. 

“I left. That first time. Because I was so fucking scared that when you woke up you’d pretend it didn’t happen. That we’d go back to being friends and act like nothing had changed. I left because I was convinced it didn’t mean anything to you and I just didn’t want to hear you say it. I didn’t want to see the regret on your face if I was still there.” 

You never talked about it. A silent agreement to never talk about what happened two years ago. Your first comment on it brought a horrified look to his face that he couldn’t wipe away fast enough. But he tried. Tried to reknit his brows and close his mouth, 

“You’re drunk” 

You wave your hands and shake your head, “No. No. I didn’t want to just be a pity fuck that you didn’t care about. That you didn’t ever want to talk about. So I left and I hoped you’d prove me wrong and you never did. You stayed silent and we never fucking talked about it again. Because I was right.” 

“You weren’t” 

Azriel wanted to believe it. Wanted to be able to tell you that you were wrong. Wanted to tell you it was more than that. But that knife in his gut. It was all he could focus on. The sharp blade of reality. He wanted you when you were sad. Something to fix. Something he could try to piece back together. But he knew you were never something he could hold together. So he was there when you needed rebuilding. Your voice struck him again, 

“I was. I was right.” 

You rose to your feet now. Pushing past him as he stood to try and block you. Shoving your hands into his chest to get him to move out of your way. 

“You only like me when I’m sad.” 

You clutched the door handle and wiped your face hastily. Trying to rid yourself of any crying evidence. Not wanting to look a mess in front of the people you knew were lined up outside the bathroom door. 

“I had something. Someone. That wanted me when I was whole. When I was happy. Someone who made me happy.” 

He reached for you and you flinched away, “And I let you ruin it because for some reason I kept thinking. How could I deserve it?  And now look at me.” 

You motioned around the bathroom, at yourself. As if you could illustrate the hollow feeling in your gut. In your chest. 

Azriel muttered your name. The only thing he could think to say. You pressed your lips into a tight line and took a deep breath before leaving him to stand alone in the bathroom. 

★ ★ ★

You pushed your way through the sweltering room. The patio. The front steps. It didn’t matter. Outside. You just wanted to be outside. You bump into Rhys before you can get to the door. His hands reaching to clasp your shoulders. His face etched with worry. His eyes scanning your face and one hand smoothing your hair down. 

“You okay?” 

You could barely hear him over the din of the party. You nod quickly and push his worrying hands away, 

“You got a cigarette?” 

“Uh yeah?” 

He reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a pack, handing you one, and slipping a lighter into your free hand as you tuck the cigarette behind you ear. Pushing past him you head for the door once more. Slipping out. Relishing in the way the cool october air pricked at your exposed skin. The way it burned your nostrils and finally provided a steady gust of air to your lungs. You walk to the curb, sitting down and fumbling with the lighter that Rhys had given you. 

Trying to light the cigarette proved difficult with the halloween wind and the light rain now dripping from the velvet sky. Someone tall moved to stand in front of you, blocking you from the breeze and the drizzle. Finally allowing the lighter to spark to life. You muttered a thank you, taking a long drag, and finally looked up at the figure before you. 

Eris. 

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me” Smoke flowed past your lips as you said it. He offered a half hearted smile before crouching to sit on the curb next to you. Someone who made me happy. Your words to Azriel echoing in Eris’ ears as he sat. 

“I just wanted a smoke.” 

He pulled the cigarette from your fingers and took a drag. Holding eye contact with you like a challenge. 

“That girl finally bore the shit out of you?” You shouldn’t comment on it. On her. You had no right. You were never really together in the first place and after what you had done. Running to Azriel as soon as Eris said he was done with you. You shouldn’t comment on it. 

He shrugged and tried his best to blow the smoke away from you as he exhaled. He turned back towards you. His eyes wandering across your face, down your neck, across your shoulders, and then suddenly backtracking. Back to the crook of your neck. That ever fading bite mark. That last physical reminder. His eyes stayed there. The deep russet color now smoldering. 

“You finally done with Az? Or is that just getting started?” 

“There’s nothing to start. There never was. I…get that now.” 

He snorted and brought the cigarette back to his lips. You ran your tongue across your teeth. Trying to think of something to say. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You did exactly what you were expected to.” He paused and you spoke again, 

“Is that what you’re doing? Bringing a date here?” 

He shrugged again. Play the part. Eyes still boring their way through your soul. That slight bit of connection. That eye contact. However frustrated, however angry, filling some sort of hole that he had left in you. You sigh deeply and stare at your shoes. Lightly tapping your heels together like maybe the motion would somehow bring you home. Straight back into his arms. But it wouldn’t. 

“You know. We don’t have to stay the way other people see us.” 

Something in his gaze softened. Like your words had cracked through his walls. Built some sort of window that could be opened into a real conversation. So you continued, 

“Something to be fixed or someone to hate. Angry. We don’t have to be angry.” 

“Are you angry?” His voice was cool. Like he didn’t want you to know that he really did wonder if you were angry with him. For pushing you out. For being unwilling to talk after one issue. 

“Not at you. At myself for…” You trailed off. Eyes going distant. Voice growing soft and much much warmer. “Do you remember when we first met? You were wearing that white sweater. The one with the holes in it.” 

He tried not to smile. He didn’t think you remembered that. Didn’t know if you even really bothered to remember anything about him before he had managed to convince you to let him into your life for real. He nodded, looking away from you. 

“You know…When you finally made a move on me a couple months ago. I couldn’t fucking believe it. Eris Vanserra, could have anyone he wants, heir to his fathers company, ever charming, hockey super star, total fucking asshole to everyone….was talking to me like he really cared what I had to say.” 

He still wasn’t looking at you. He had hung his head and closed his eyes. As if remembering that night himself. 

“I don’t know if you were going to say it in the locker room. It seemed like you were. But…” You slump your shoulders before standing up and brushing yourself off. Leaves falling from where they had stuck to your legs. He turned to look at you, his eyes searching, almost pleading. Like he was begging you not to say what you were about to say. 

“As sick as it sounds. I loved you first Eris. I was just waiting for you to notice and then when you did I was so fucking scared that you would do what everyone told me you would do, that you’d fuck me and then leave me like it was nothing.” 

Again it felt like you were going to throw up, “And you proved them wrong. And that was scarier. Because what if I didn’t deserve it.” 

He tried to say something, but you cut him off. “You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to forgive me. Maybe you shouldn’t. But I just…” 

You shake your head. Almost like you were giving up and started to walk away. You were going to toss one final thing over your shoulder. But you squared your shoulder and looked at him. He was standing now, like he wanted to follow you. Like he wanted to walk you home. Something he had grown so used to doing. But he didn’t budge as you said, 

“I feel empty without you.” 

A small smile spread across his face. A smile he had thrown at you when everything was okay. When you two were good. When you were happy. Mischievous. Fox like and sly. 

“Not like that. Not like in a sexual way. In the like I miss you way. Asshole.” 

A small laugh escaped his lips at that. At your slight teasing tone. You stare at each other for a moment before you say, serious now, 

“I miss you.” 

And with that you turned and started to walk down the street. You had to go home. You didn’t want to talk to any of your friends. Didn’t want to face Azriel again. Didn’t want to drink anymore or dance or act like everything was fine. 

He wanted to say it back. Every bone in his body screaming at him to say it back. To tell you that he missed you too. But he couldn’t. You were too far away. Too drunk. Too sad. 

But that smile he had given you. That teasing tone that you had held for even a split second. A small glimmer of hope. Maybe there was something to salvage there. 

Azriel leaned against the doorframe of the house. He had been watching the conversation you had with Eris. Not able to hear it, but monitoring from afar. He had followed you out. To try and talk. Try and apologize for everything. For how stupid he had been. He didn’t want to lose you…as a friend. Above all else as a friend. As family. That’s what you were supposed to be. You and everyone else in your friend group. Family. Your final words were all he had managed to hear. 

I miss you. 

Something you would have never said to him. Rightly so, Azriel supposed. Eris eventually turned away from your fleeting form and met Azriel’s eyes. Az wondered how long Eris had known he was skulking in the background. He offered Eris a small nod. A small concession. Eris nodded back. 

A brief. Silent. Understanding of sorts maybe. 

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[ogh-rambles]

Rewriting Fate - Chapter 4

chapter 3 > chapter 4 (you're here!) > chapter 5(in progress...)

word count! 2k.

warnings! only curses but if u count angst as one... a/n: oh boy we're back with the famed scene (click here for the full scene of the art below!)

A short, comfortable small talk envelops your party as Katsuragi guides you both to the village, an ever-present smile on his face. 

“I see… I’m glad you left that place before the landslide hit.” The man hums thoughtfully. “And your friend…”

Katsuragi’s gaze eventually lands on the golden feather that sways from Kuni’s neck, the latter restless under his intense stare.

His dark eyes grow wide at the sight, shocked to see an item of such importance so far from the mainland where Tenshukaku stands. “You... You have the Plume of Luxury. What affiliation do you have with the Shogun…?” 

You stiffen at his words, watching as he quickly notices Kuni’s avoidance in question to the topic behind the feather. Kuni nervously clutches the golden ornament in his palm, moving closer to you.

Pausing, Katsuragi clears his throat, nodding to himself as he averts his attention away.  “I suppose it’s for the best that you keep your background to yourself.” 

Kuni nods quietly, tucking it into his collar.

Your eyes move on from the two, quickly distracted by the plentiful clusters of homes and warmly lit windows emerging in the distance, exposing a much more lively view of Tatarasuna than you were previously familiar with. The buildings were in their prime, the wooden panels worn yet steady under your feet as you made your way into the village under the cover of night.

The aching sensation in your heart grows strong as you take in the prosperous village, knowing what is to come in a matter of years. Guilt, maybe. Hope? You’re already scared of the butterfly effect that was inevitable with your arrival, but you can’t help but wonder what would happen if you gave a small hint here and there. Would Tatarasuna still be thriving in the future as it is now? 

Your wandering eyes meet the prototype beside you, who lights up under your attention, still holding onto your sleeve with his firm grasp.

What will happen to him then?

You barely stop yourself from face-planting into a wall of muscle as Katsuragi stops abruptly in front of a small home. He slides the door open and turns around, gesturing inside.

“I will take you both to my superior, Nagamasa.” Katsuragi briefly explains, ushering you both into the warm interior before he heads in himself.

Your shoulders sag at the heat that enveloped your shivering body, noticing a small, dusty fireplace nestled into one of the corners. It seems newly built, you note as you stare into the embers. A couple of leftover stone bricks were still stacked up precariously against the wall. 

Kuni looks around, starry-eyed as he stands rather close to you despite the extra space, his synthetic skin cool against you. The one room was a little cramped to be housing three people at once, but you couldn’t complain. It was much better than the small cavern you and Kuni had found a few moments ago.

You lift your head, eyes wide at the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Ah, Katsuragi. I need your help with something, do you think… Oh?” A man, a little older than Katsuragi walks in from the other room, slipping through the sliding frame doors. He looks a little taken aback by the two strangers who seem just as lost as he. “And… whom might they be?”

So this was the man who would later be the one to slay Katsuragi when everything fell apart. You hold back a grimace, the soft murmurs between the two men turning into white noise in your ears as you study Nagamasa discreetly. 

He hadn’t made an appearance in the game, so you were at least a little curious about what he looked like. Dark brows are drawn into a tight crease, and brown eyes, clear and sharp, flicker from his yoriki to you and Kuni. 

He rakes a hand through black hair as he nods at Katsuragi’s explanation. The locks were a little unkempt, loose and just barely brushed his shoulders as he moved to face you. 

“I apologise for the wait. Welcome to Tatarasuna village.” He murmurs, steady gaze flickering between you and Kuni. “Kasturagi has explained to me that he found you both while patrolling on Nazuchi Beach.”

It wasn’t really a lie. Katsuragi had found you on the beach as he said but had excluded any mention of you finding Kuni in Shakkei Pavillion. 

You nod along to Nagamasa’s words as Katsuragi turns to the other man, gesturing to you.

“Yes, this is…” Katsuragi paused, looking a little sheepish. “Ah, my mistake. I forgot to ask you both for your names in the rush to get you both here.”

You blink. “Oh. Right.”

With hidden trepidation, you tell them your name, eyes darting down to your hands. Now your name was out there. You quickly move on from there, turning to the one sitting beside you, staring at you with wide shining eyes. Right, you hadn’t even told him your name.

Kuni whispers your name under his breath, lips curving into a small smile that had you mentally squinting against the pure light that emitted from him.

“And you?” Nagamasa quirks his brow, briefly eyeing the expensive-looking fabric that the other had donned. 

Kuni shuffles uneasily beside you. “I don’t have one.” 

The older man gruffly hums, scratching at his chin while Katsuragi frowns. “Don’t have one, you say…”

Katsuragi thinks for a moment before raising an offer with a subtle tilt of his head. “How about giving yourself a name? What do you think about that?”

The puppet’s eyes widen. “A name… for me?”

"You can think about it as you settle down in our village." Katsuragi leans back, crossing his arms across his chest. He seems pleased at the other's reaction.

The prototype nods as naive hope and admiration blossom in his hollow chest. 

Nagamasa watches the interaction with an unreadable, neutral expression, clearing his throat. 

“Now, about living in Tatarasuna…”

After introducing you to his superior, Katsuragi welcomed you both into his own home, offering a place to sleep for the night before they set up a place for you both to live in for the rest of your stay here at Tatarasuna. 

As you comfortably lay in the warm futon that Katsuragi had so generously laid out for you in a spare room, you absentmindedly stare up at the ceiling. Your new companion was and had been staring at you for quite some time now, sitting on his futon instead of slipping under the covers. 

You think back to the conversation you had with Nagamasa. 

The inspector had given you two a chance to start a life in Tatarasuna after you revealed that you had no memory of ending up on the beach. You were to start learning the basics of swordsmithing by tomorrow morning along with Kuni. Despite having eased your worries about meeting Katsuragi and continuing the story as it was planned, you can’t help but feel a lingering concern. 

Sighing exasperately, you flip to your side, staring back. Innocent indigo eyes blinked at you before a whisper filled the room. “Not sleeping? I thought you said humans needed to sleep?”

“Mn. Not tired.” You prop your head up on the pillow to face him better. “Why don’t you lie down? I know you don’t need sleep but the futon is comfortable.”

You watch Kuni let out a soft ‘oh’, before sliding into the covers stiffly, unsure of his movements. He glances at you for approval. “It’s… soft.”

“Isn’t it?” Settling down, you breathe out, the heavy weight on your chest a little lighter after talking to him. “Even if you don’t need to do the things humans do, doesn’t it feel nice to do them anyway?”

A soft shuffling noise comes from Kuni as he turns to you, the covers pulled up to his chin. He nods.

The corners of your lips naturally lift in amusement. “Now go to sleep. Isn’t it boring to stay up doing nothing all night?”

Shifting slightly under the thick blanket, the puppet finally shuts his eyes, letting his body rest like he saw you do before. It’s a little strange, allowing his body to fall slack when he’s so used to being aware of everything, eyes wanting to take in everything that the world presents him with. 

Listening to your soft breaths fill the room, he can’t help but make his artificial lungs mimic yours. He knows he doesn’t need to breathe or sleep. But as he finds his body relaxing, his mind goes quiet.

Finally, he lets himself rest in your presence.

Sitting up, you watch with a bittersweet smile as your companion ‘falls asleep’. Moving slowly and quietly, you slip out of the sheets, your steps silent against the tatami mat as you cautiously move towards the doors.

You glance back with finality at the unmoving form under the sheets, your distant eyes skimming over his dark hair splayed out on the pillow to his tranquil resting face.

You had been contemplating executing this plan since you had first met him in the pavilion. Initially, you had thought that you had ruined everything by leaving the domain with him, however, things had worked out in your favour and now things were where they had always been. 

Now only you were the abnormality in this moment. You weren’t supposed to be here. Staying would only mean you would distort the story more, and the thought of a future you didn’t know frightens you. 

Feeling the biting wind against your skin, you rip your gaze away, slipping out the doors and closing it behind you with a soft click, walking across the wooden panels of the deck that surrounded the home. You had to leave before your hesitation got the better of you and you ended up making a decision that you would regret.

Your feet touch the grass as you ready yourself to leave.

“Where are you going..?”

Your heart sank, head whipping around. Shit.

He’s staring at you with wild, desperate eyes – confusion and terror written all over him. They dart frantically across your face, as if searching for any reason you might have for leaving the room without him. 

It's almost painful to look at him, his trembling hand gripping so tightly onto his veil.

“...”

You say nothing.

What could you even tell him? That this was for his own good? That you swear that you’ll come back to him in the future?... That you were terrified to ruin his life more than it would become?

His expression grows more and more distraught at your silence and he stumbles towards you, desperately clutching at your clothes.

“Do you not like it here?” His thready voice quivers, sounding smaller than ever. “That’s okay, we can go…!”

The inner turmoil was back again, hitting you in full force. It was for his own good, you think to yourself. You’d rather carry the burden of leaving him rather than—

“... I’ll go with you! Wherever you go! Wherever!” His form shudders with every word, tears pooling in his eyes. “So...! So... Please... Please, please, please, please.”

“... Don’t leave me.”

You fail to swallow down the building lump in your throat, steeling yourself as you breathe in and—

…

You find yourself back inside, face vacantly fixed up at the ceiling again. The pressure on your heart is replaced with the arms of a desperate puppet clinging onto your body, his futon discarded for your own. He’s tense, and the extreme closeness is a little stifling but you can’t bring yourself to complain or push him away. 

His face is buried into your shoulder, and your heart squeezes with immense guilt as you feel him hiccup softly against your shirt. 

Your plan failed.

Closing your eyes, you exhale slowly as you tentatively reach up and card your fingers through his silken hair. He goes quiet, holding your arm tighter.

… There was no way you could leave now.

[juqtier]

☆◞: IM ALWAYS JUST A DOOR AWAY ✧ SPENCER REID

SUMMARY: after blowing up at your neighbor, you and your friend decide to have a night out to help you with stress. what could go wrong?

GENERAL WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and alcohol, angsty, arguing, spencer is kind of (definitely) an asshole, kissing, cursing, somewhat darker plot points as story progresses

THIS CHAPTERS CONTAINS: alcohol and alcohol consumption, characters are drunk, cursing, spencer is an asshole, cursing. also if anything is wrong or said wrong ignore it and pretend it’s all correct thanks 💯🥰🫶🏽

GENRE: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

⋆·˚ ༘ *

chapter 2 : it’s dr. reid

✎ It has been a couple weeks since you blew up at Spencer, and not much has changed. Well, except for your attitude towards him.

You never smiled or waved at him. In fact, if he even glanced at you, you’d quickly roll your eyes before he got the chance.

As you sat in the back at your work, counting tips, you couldn’t help but think about how much you hated him.

God, he’s so stuck up.

He doesn’t even know me.

Wearing a vest doesn’t make you any better than me or anyo-

"(Y/N), are you okay?”

Your coworker (and closest friend), Liv, interrupts your thoughts. She stared at you with a subtle hint of confusion. You hadn’t even realized you'd been zoned out or that you’d been slamming down the cash on the table.

You and Liv met when you first began working here. She was possibly the happiest person you know, and the kindest. She always listened to you ramble about anything, whether it was a stupid hobby, a rude customer, or even the most mundane story about your week.

“Um yeah. Just some problems..” You weren’t even sure how to answer her. Bringing up the situation made you even more furious.

However, Liv became a bit more concerned with this answer.

“Oh no! What’s wrong? Family troubles, a boy?”

You breathe in deeply, trying to suppress the anger building up again before you start talking.

“It’s just... my neighbor.”

Liv leans on the table you sat at, obviously interested in what you have to say. “Go on…”

Her saying that immediately gave your mind the confirmation it needed to go ahead with your rant.

“Well, when I moved in, I wanted to greet him. I don’t know, trying to be neighborly and whatnot, like one does. But.. like..”

You rub your face with your hands. It became clear to you that talking about this would anger you no matter what, so why not just get it over with?

“He’s such a jerk. Like, he interrupted me when I tried to say hello. He even slammed the door in my face.”

Your friend's eyes widen, leaning more towards you, showing her interest. Honestly, even if she wasn’t showing any care whatsoever, the words would’ve kept spewing out regardless. You needed to get this off your chest.

“Oh, and he showed up at my door, telling me to turn my music down. I have no problem with that, but in the same breath, he tells me how I have terrible taste. He said, 'Some of us have jobs and commitments', or whatever bullshit he said to me. Like oh I’m sorry, I never knew because I don’t also work my ass off!”

Your voice gradually became louder, yet you weren’t quite yelling. All Liv does is nod softly, almost as if she knew how much anger and frustration built up inside of you.

“And I live next to him, I can’t avoid him. He’s like the plague! Maybe during the apartment tour, the realtor could’ve been kind enough to give me a heads-up! Maybe like, ‘Oh, by the way, the neighbor is insanely rude and pretentious, so maybe avoid him if you can’, I dunno!”

“Jesus, (Y/N), I’m sorry.” Liv quickly says. Venting to your friend calmed you down a bit, but you were still visibly annoyed.

“It’s fine… It’s not... whatever.” Your body slumps into the chair, the tip money you were previously counting still spread in front of you.

“Let’s go out tonight. You and me!” Liv suggests happily.

The idea sounds nice, but you haven’t been out in what feels like forever. When you moved, you left all of your dresses and more risqué clothing behind to make the move easier. I mean, you didn’t even think you’d have a reason to go out of the house.

“Liv, thanks for the attempt at helping, but I haven’t gone out in so long. I don’t even have going-out clothes.”

"Well, you’re in luck, sweets! I have tons of going-out clothes, or whatever you call them. When I’m out in a couple hours. Finish counting your tips, go home, shower, and I’ll pick you up. No ifs, ands, or buts. See ya!"

With that, she smiles sweetly at you and hurries off, going to serve another table fast enough so you can’t say no to the plans she made. You let out a small huff, seeing no way out of this.

And Liv was nice; what harm could going out with her do?

You gather the cash and stuff it into an envelope, sliding it into your purse and gathering the rest of your belongings. Untying your apron and setting it down, you exit the restaurant through the back and make your way to your car.

Please let tonight be a good one.

-‘๑’-

“Choose an outfit, any outfit!”

Liv displayed all her dresses for you to choose from on her bed. She had picked you up a couple hours prior, and the two of you had been talking for a while before getting ready.

You straightened your hair and did a smokey makeup look, something you hadn’t done in a while.

The dress selection was quite impressive, but a simple short, sparkly black dress stood out to you the most. You pick it up and show Liv your choice.

“Ooooh, skimpy, yet simple. I like!” Liv said, smiling from ear to ear.

“Go put it on!”

She eagerly pushes you into the bathroom to change, shutting the door behind you.

Slipping the clothes on and staring at yourself in the mirror, you felt insanely confident. Since you hadn’t been out in so long, you forgot how fun it was to get dressed up.

Stepping out of the bathroom and into the room where Liv went to change, she audibly gasped upon seeing you.

“Jesus (Y/N), you look hot!”

A giggle escapes your lips as you look down at the yourself and smile at her.

“I might have to steal this dress, I like them too much.”

“I’d pay you to keep it, you look good.”

The comment made you blush slightly as your friend continued to compliment you.

“Alright, I'm ready. Let’s go!”

The two of you order a cab and head to the club. The thought of Spencer Reid is nowhere in your mind.

-‘๑’-

As you arrive at the club, you can already tell it’s quite full. Just upon entering, you see tons of people dancing and drinking—even a drunk girl spilling her drinks all over herself as her friends quickly try to clean her up.

Liv grabs your arm, dragging you up to the bar in a matter of seconds. It seemed so fast; you hadn’t even noticed she ordered you two drinks.

“Two tequila shots, two waters, and two limes, thank you!” Liv orders from the bartender. He nods and heads off to grab you guys your drinks.

“Starting off strong?” You say this, laughing softly.

“Of course! I want you to have a good night, (Y/N). It’ll be fun, trust me!"

Liv smiled softly at you as she grabbed the salt on the counter, seeing the bartender come back with the shots.

“Here you go. Enjoy, ladies.”

The both of you nod as the bartender steps away, helping others with their drinks. You lick the back of your hand and sprinkle salt on it before grabbing the shot and throwing it back.

It burned slightly, going down your throat, and you winced a bit. Quickly licking the salt off your hands and sucking on the lime, you can’t help but shake a little bit. It’s been so long since you’ve even consumed any sort of alcohol, so this shot felt incredibly strong to you.

"Jesus, I forgot how much I hate tequila.” You say, clearing your throat a bit. You grab your water and take a sip as Liv laughs, seemingly having had no reaction to the shot.

“Welcome back to drinking, huh?” She jokes, which makes you both laugh a little.

-‘๑’-

As the night goes on, the two of you dance and drink more, progressively becoming drunker. The shots began going down like water; a lime wasn’t needed to help anymore.

As you and Liv danced together, you decided to get more shots. Liv was clearly having too much fun to get off the dance floor right away, so you made the sacrifice to step off and grab them.

“I’ll go grab us some more shots; you just stay here.” You say to her, words slurring as you walk over to the bar. You lean on the bar to order more shots, hoping to make them your last ones as you get more and more tired.

The bar was full, so the bartender wasn’t going to tend to you right away. As you take a seat to help you have some sort of balance, you become aware of the presence of someone behind you. Assuming it was Liv, you snap your head to look at the person.

No fucking way

It seemed like you could never escape the nightmare that is Spencer Reid.

"Holy shit, Reid... are you stalking me?” You say this, looking up at the tall man. If your words didn’t indicate how drunk you were, your face did. Your eyes were heavy, and your face was slightly flushed red.

“Stalking you? I wouldn’t even if I was paid.” He states, making you roll your eyes.

“I don’t know what karmic debt I have to pay off, but it sure is hell seeing you everywhere I go.”

The words coming out of your mouth were so slurred, it made him chuckle. This made you roll your eyes again, annoyed at everything he did.

“I’m not particularly pleased to see you either." He answers, not even looking down at you as he scans the bar.

“And besides, you’re not the only one allowed to go out. I’m here with some work friends, not for you. They’re all just too drunk to hold a conversation…”

You laugh slightly as you tilt your head. “You don’t drink”

“No, not really. Can’t say the same can you? Try not to clear out the alcohol…”

Of course he had to throw in a snarky comment quickly. Even if it wasn’t normally seen as rude, coming from him was a different story.

“I’m leaving anyway.. have a.. nice night… or whatever.” You reply swiftly, forgetting the shots you planned to order and hopping out of your seat. You stagger a few steps away before feeling his hand wrap around your forearm, quickly stopping you.

“Wait, how are you getting home? You can’t drive like this.”

It almost felt like you couldn’t roll your eyes anymore than you have. You turn your head to look at him, your hair falling in front of your face.

“Don’t pretend to care.. where.. I’m going." Your words seemed to take forever to get out; you just wanted to get as far away as possible in that moment.

“Just because I don’t like you at all doesn’t mean I’m going to let you be in possibly dangerous situations. Especially in this state..." His eyes didn’t seem angry at that moment; they were just worried. It almost felt foreign to see him not roll his eyes back at you. It shocked you.

“How are you getting home?" Spencer’s voice is a lot more stern this time, startling you a bit. You never expected him, of all people, to care.

"Well, mister Reid…”

“It’s Dr.” He corrects you.

“Whatever.. me and my friend… Liv… will get a cab home. Any other questions?"

When he doesn’t respond right away, you think that’s the end of the interaction. When you attempt to slip your arm out of his grasp, he only tightens his grip a bit more. Not hurting you, but stopping you from walking away.

“I- I don’t think that’s very safe. I’ll give you guys a ride.”

Usually you’d argue and protest, but he seemed too serious to even try. And besides, you’d rather get a free ride than pay for one.

“Whatever..” You begrudgingly agree, pulling your arm away to go get your friend. Liv is easily pulled off the dance floor this time as you explain the situation. She holds onto your arms as you exit the club behind Spencer. It was obvious she had many more drinks than you; you could’ve looked a little sober next to her.

"Hello, sir, thank you for the ride.” She says to Spencer, her words are barely comprehensible. Spencer just nods, not really understanding what she said.

You walk to Spencer’s car with Liv on your arm, then softly help her into the backseat, buckling her up. She was laughing and giggling as you did so, not paying much attention to Spencer at all.

"Please, please, please don’t throw up in my car.” You hear him talk to himself as he walks to the driver's side door and gets in.

As you get in the front seat beside Spencer, you look around at the interior of the car. It was completely clean; there was not a speck of dirt in sight.

“Huh, is the car new?” You ask, turning your head to face him. He shook his head as he stuck the keys in the ignition, starting the vehicle.

“No. I just don’t drive much. I don’t like to, I usually take the train or have a coworker drive me. Can you give me your guys addresses?”

You nod, telling him both addresses, seeing as Liv was too inebriated to say much. The car begins to move, and you lay your head back to stare out the window. Watching the world pass by was calming; you even began to drift off a little.

Suddenly, the car stops.

“We’re at Livs.” He almost whispers. You lift your head up and look around before getting out of the car. You still had pretty bad balance, but better than Liv’s, who had passed out by now. Spencer gets out as well and helps you hoist Liv out of the backseat.

“How much did you guys drink?” He asks, referencing how drunk your friend was. The two of you begin walking to the door of her house.

“Not a lot, just... a lot..” You joke, laughing at your own stupidity.

“I wouldn’t do that. Alcohol causes 13 percent of deaths among-“

“Boooorinnng.” You interrupt. He presses his lips together as you two reach the door. You dig through the purse Liv had on her shoulder and fish her keys out, quickly unlocking the door and pushing it open.

“I’ll go put her to bed.” You say, dragging Liv off Spencer’s shoulders and to her room. She is easily carried, being quite light. As you reach her room, you set her down on the bed and take her purse off her shoulder, placing the keys beside it on her dresser. She didn’t really respond much, but you did hear her softly snoring as you laid her down.

As you shut the lights off and exit the house, you see Spencer waiting on the sidewalk for you.

“Come on, I’m tired.”

You walk to the car and get it again, buckling up quickly.

As you begin driving, he suddenly begins talking to you.

“I never took you as someone to go out at all.”

“Dr. Reid, you don’t know me at all.”

Saying this makes you realize, you don’t know him either. I mean, he was annoying, yes, but what did he do? What did he like? Were his interests as painstakingly pretentious as he was? You grew curious, then quickly grew confused as to why you were curious at all.

When he laughs at your comment, you immediately snap out of your head. “I do know you’re a pain in the ass.”

“You’re not exactly a dream either, believe me.”

You go back to staring out the window, waiting for the car to finally park in front of your apartment.

When it finally does, you get out as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, Spencer is right behind you.

“Stop following me, weirdo.” You comment as you walk in front of him, refusing to turn around.

"Sorry, princess, but in case you forgot, I’m your neighbor.”

You groan at this comment as you both reach your apartment doors. You were already so irritated and tired that you couldn’t bear another snarky comment or remark from him. Opening your door, you look at him and nod.

“Good night, Dr. Reid.” Your tone was sassy, yet jokey. He rolled his eyes and smiled at you, lifting his hand to wave goodbye. Before he can reply or say anything, you shut the door.

You made him smile.

He smiled cause of you?

Why did you care so much that he smiled? Shouldn’t that annoy you? Maybe you were just too drunk to function properly. You shake the thoughts off and slip into more comfortable clothes, quickly jumping into bed and falling asleep. Maybe tomorrow you’ll be thinking straight…

-‘๑’-

PT 1 | PT 3

tag list: @daisyridleyss @taygrls @yeonalie @peanutbelley @vivian-555 @ehedrick012110

a.n : this feels really long, and it is, so sorry ! but next chapter is a lil more eventful i hope! also, in my head liv is a blonde sweet sort of ditzy girl, but you can imagine her however you’d like! liv lover regardless 💪🏽💯

[ghoulsbounty]

Okay! Boyd Crowder request pretty please. How about some short headcanons/ thoughts about reader wearing one of his shirts. You know those ones from S2 and 3? Like it’s a warm day and reader shows up to Johnny’s bar in some denim shorts, a crop top and one of Boyd’s shirts open with the sleeves rolled up. I think he’d loose his goddamn mind. Preferably no smut, but I know the request kinda leans into it so maybe something at the end. idk! you do you! Thank you!

Wearing His Shirt

Boyd Crowder x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slight spoilers for season 2/3, alludes to smut but no actual mention, a little angst, comfort, fluff and a happy ending.

Word Count: 1.3K

A/N: Anon, this turned more into a little fic/scenario moment rather than a headcanon, I hope that's okay and you enjoy it still! I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

Boyd likes to think of himself as a considerate partner. Although your relationship is still relatively new, he takes pride in picking up on the small details that bring you joy or cause you distress, often understanding your needs before you articulate them. However, with the recent acquisition of his cousin's bar and the complexities of the Black Pike deal, his focus on you has diminished more than he'd like to acknowledge. His once regular check-ins and sweet messages have become sporadic and hurried, often cut short by pressing business matters. The late nights and brief phone calls have led to him being less present both physically and emotionally, and you're reaching your breaking point.

Johnny's bar buzzes with activity, the low murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses creating a lively symphony in the dimly lit space. The familiar scent of beer and faint traces of smoke hang in the air. As you push open the door and step inside, the room's energy seems to shift, heads turning to acknowledge your presence with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. Their gazes, like predators sizing up their prey, linger on you, but your focus is singular.

Boyd stands behind the bar, a rag casually draped over his shoulder, the dim light casting a warm glow on his features. He engages in a conversation with a patron who is leaning heavily on the counter, gesticulating animatedly. Boyd nods along, listening intently, but the moment he spots you approaching, a noticeable change comes over him. His eyes lock onto you with an intensity that makes the bustling room seem to fall away.

As you saunter towards him, his gaze follows your every step, his attention entirely consumed by your presence. The customer’s words fade into the background, reduced to a dull hum as Boyd's focus shifts solely to you. His eyes drift down your body, taking in every detail of your appearance, from the way your eyes shine as you look at him to the confident way you carry yourself. It's as if he's seeing you for the first time all over again, his expression a mix of admiration and longing.

You feel a spark of satisfaction knowing that you can still capture his attention so completely, even amidst the chaos of his busy bar. As you reach the counter, Boyd's lips curl into a slow smile, the kind that speaks volumes without uttering a single word. You watch as he gestures with a hand to the customer he was previously talking with and you smile at the older gentleman as he rises from his seat, disappearing behind you.

Boyd leans slightly closer, his eyes never leaving yours, making you feel like the most important person in the room. In that moment, surrounded by the lively chatter and clinking glasses, it’s clear that no one else matters to him but you.

Seeing you in his shirt stirs something deep within him, a quiet sense of possessiveness that isn’t about control or dominance, but rather a satisfying feeling of connection. He appreciates the way you fill out the shirt, how the navy and grey fabric drapes over your frame, hinting at the contours beneath.

To the other men in the establishment, the glimpse of your bare thighs in those fitted cut-offs or the swell of your breasts in the thin crop underneath his shirt would undoubtedly set their hearts racing. Boyd, too, couldn’t help but appreciate that enticing sight. However, what truly struck a chord with him was witnessing your subtle proclamation of his ownership over you amidst a room bustling with other men. You belong to him, and he certainly belongs to you. 

You approach him with slow, deliberate strides until just the counter is between you, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of admiration and desire. A mischievous spark dances in his eyes as he leans casually against the bar, his fingertips tingling with the desire to caress the fabric, to revel in the warmth of your skin beneath. Yet, just before his hand extends, he halts, a silent gesture of restraint, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sends a thrilling shiver down your spine. With a deliberate movement, he clasps his hands firmly on the counter, his touch reserved yet charged with an unspoken promise of what could be.

His voice, usually smooth and confident, carries a subtle huskiness as he speaks. "Well now, ain't that a sight," he remarks, his drawl laced with amusement. "Looks like my shirt found itself in the finest of company today."

"Been feeling mighty lonely lately. Ain't been getting much attention, you know," you confide in him, a playful lilt in your voice as you tilt your head. "Thought maybe borrowing your shirt might do the trick, you reckon?"

Straightening up, Boyd casts a deliberate gaze around the room, a silent command for everyone present to divert their attention away from the captivating vixen who's currently pouting at him. Once he's ensured that all eyes have shifted elsewhere, he snaps his focus back to you with a confident smirk.

"Well, darlin'," he drawls, his voice low and rough, "seems like you've succeeded in getting everyone's attention, mine included."

"Hard work, nowadays," you sigh dramatically, and he chuckles softly as he leans across the bar, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly soft kiss, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. "Do I get to keep it for long?" you whisper, your voice barely audible amidst the buzz of the bar.

"Have I been neglecting you, baby?" He grins as he leans back slightly, his hand reaching out to casually adjust the rolled sleeves of his shirt that adorns your figure. "Is that why you've decided to grace my fine establishment with your beauty, nearly causing every man in this joint to suffer a near fatal heart attack, hm?"

His tone is playful, but beneath the jest, there's a hint of genuine concern. He watches you closely, searching your eyes for any sign of discontent or longing, his fingers tracing the fabric of his shirt on your skin with a tender familiarity.

You giggle, running your thumb along his forearm as he continues to absentmindedly toy with the fabric. "Maybe that was the plan all along. Finally, some quality time for me with no customers or associates around, huh? I can be your number one priority," you tease, the playful tone in your voice ringing through the air. But your laughter falters as you notice a brief flicker of something in his expression, a momentary hardening before it softens again.

His gaze meets yours, and you can see the conflict playing out in his eyes, the struggle to balance his personal and professional life. There's a vulnerability there that he rarely shows, a glimpse behind the confident façade he wears for the world. You reach out, your hand gently squeezing his arm, silently offering reassurance and understanding.

As he pulls back from you, a fleeting worry crosses your mind. Have you said too much? Pushed him too far? Though Boyd has never so much as raised his voice at you, his sudden movement sparks a flicker of concern. You watch in silence as he takes the rag from his shoulder, tossing it down onto the bar with a resolute thud, and steps out from behind the counter, closing the distance between you at last.

In that moment of uncertainty, his words wash over you like a soothing balm. "You are always my first priority," he murmurs, his voice soft and intimate, filled with a sincerity that melts away your apprehension. His arms slide under the shirt you wear, encircling your waist as he draws you close to his chest.

As you nestle against him, his gaze meets yours, and you see the earnestness in his eyes. "I'm sorry I haven't been present," he admits, his voice tinged with remorse. "But I'm going to fix that."

"I know," you assure him with a smile, your hands tenderly resting on his chest as you lean in to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

He returns your smile, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks in a hushed tone, meant only for you to hear. "Let's go in the back," he murmurs softly, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "I've got a feeling I need to remind you just how much you mean to me."

[starry-eyes-love]

Chapter 3: Even Tough Hearts Break Under Pressure

Masterlist

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader (18+, Minors DNI)

Summary | While healing up from your miscarriage, Joel and you have some tender moments alone in the bedroom, one of which spirals Joel out of control emotionally where he has a panic attack outside You see a side of Joel you’ve never seen before and you honestly don’t know what to make out of it.  One thing’s for certain you realize that even the toughest of hearts will break under pressure. 

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI, reference to miscarriage (slight at the beginning), language, fluff, angst while person (Joel) is having a panic attack, sexual references, age gap (no age stated in this chapter), slow burn, reference to smut without having smut, reference to child dying previously (slight), slight pregnancy reference (if you squint), reference to rough sex (if you squint), tender moments, sweet name calling (baby, honey, sweet girl, darlin’, etc), descriptions of body type, argument between Ellie and Joel. 

Word Count: 6k

“Joel, honey. Are you ok?” you said as you slowly ran your hand up and down the center part of his chest. As you did you saw his eyes snap open and look at you sternly. His breathing quickened again and you felt his cock strain and twitch hard against your leg, one that you slyly placed in-between his legs.   

Joel was nice and gentle with you when you went through horrible pain and bleeding from a miscarriage. You finally passed a large sized blood clot on the fifth night, and it was then that your pain and bleeding had finally started to slow down a bit so you could rest.  You were still really dizzy and lightheaded, Joel said that was because you were anemic from all the blood loss that had happened. You were hemorrhaging really bad for the first few days and finally you were grateful that your bleeding slowed down to a regular period flow. Joel told Ellie and you that until you felt well enough to travel, the three of you were going to stay in the cabin. 

During the course of the next week, Ellie tried convincing Joel that the three of you needed to stay at the cabin until spring. One evening you had heard Joel and Ellie get into a horrible heated argument about it. You were laying in one of the queen sized beds sleeping when all of a sudden you were startled awake hearing Ellie yell “the snow is too deep Joel, we’re gonna get fucking hypothermia and die if we try going through it.”

You heard Joel yell back "Ellie, lower your voice and watch your god damn language. And for the record, we're sitting ducks out here, if someone shows up we're all dead." 

“No one knows we’re here Joel, no ones been through here in like over 10 years or else this place would have been picked clean.”

“Ellie, you don’t know that. We’re now using the fireplace. People can see the smoke, and you know what that means” Joel said with a slight bite in his voice.

“You know what Joel, have you ever heard of the saying take the positive thing that life throws at ya, huh? This is positive Joel, a fucking gold mine if we allow it. And for the record, we’re dead if we leave anyways so it doesn’t matter. So why not make it easier on all of us, huh? Let us stay-”

You heard Joel yell back “Don’t back talk to me, what I say goes, remember? You agreed and plus I’m the adult and you’re the god damn child. Remember, the rules I have are the things that have kept us all alive. But you know what, if ya don’t like it you can leave at anytime. I won’t fucking stop ya.”

“You know what Joel, fuck you” you heard Ellie scream at him and then storm past your bedroom door and slam the door to her bedroom. 

With your eyes closed you slowly exhaled at hearing that full argument.  Sometimes you just wished Joel would stop running his fucking mouth and listen for a second. Ellie may be a teenager, and she may not have been communicating it perfectly, but she was right.  When you didn’t hear any more commotion in the living room you decided to attempt to relax into the mattress to get some more sleep. You figured you could address this problem later when you had a little more energy. You were exhausted still sleeping about 16 hours a day right now, and your skin still looked really pale in color from all the blood loss.  

After a moment of relaxing you felt that familiar sag of the mattress next to you, followed by two knees creaking and a huff from Joel as his back muscles tensed. Joel had been sharing a room with you ever since the two of you started sleeping here at the cabin because of how sick you had gotten. Joel would only leave your side during the day to go get food, scout the area, etc. while Ellie would lay with you in the bed and watch you. 

You were laying on your side facing the middle of the bed when Joel had laid down.  After a moment of allowing him to get settled you decided to slowly open your eyes and look at him. He was laying on his back looking straight up at the ceiling, brows scrunched together tight like he was in deep thought.

“You know, she’s right” you said after a moment while looking at Joel.

Joel exhaled slowly and said “yeah I know she’s right about the snow. But I don’t like having to stay here just in case people show up.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about Joel” you had said. “Yes, she’s right about that, but I’m talking about when she told you to fuck off. She was right to tell you that.”

You watched Joel turn on his side to face towards you and tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear while saying “now why did ya go and say something like that darlin?” 

“You know why” you say curling yourself up tighter as a shiver runs down your spine. You kept getting periodic shivering episodes recently, like you couldn’t get warm enough, even if you were sleeping right next to the fire.  Joel saw this and tucked himself closer to you draping the blanket he had over himself overtop of your other blanket, in an attempt to help conserve your body heat.  As he did that he said, “enlighten me sweet girl, why is she right?” 

“She’s right in calling you an asshole and telling you to fuck off” you said as your body slowly started to warm up.

“She never called me an asshole darlin’” he said quietly as he tucked you in closer to his chest for you to go to sleep.

“No, you’re right” you said with a yawn as you snuggled closer into the warmth and safety of his chest. “I called you that, and it’s still the truth.”

You heard Joel silently laugh out loud while saying “you’re awfully sassy for someone who’s always so tired. Now go to sleep sweet girl, ya need your rest.”  And with that you started drifting off to sleep. Right before you fell fully asleep you thought you heard Joel say, “and for the record, you’re both right.”

The next day Ellie gave Joel the silent treatment. Joel felt a lot of remorse as he didn’t mean to tell Ellie that she should leave. In fact, the only reason why he had said what he said was because at the time he was upset that Ellie wouldn’t listen to him, but he was still wrong for saying what he said. By the end of the next night, Joel and Ellie had finally made up all the way were they were back to their normal selves bantering back and forth. After listening to Ellie, and hearing Joel spend most of the previous night not sleeping, Joel had finally caved and agreed to stay there in the cabin for the next few months until spring hit. Ellie was right, trying to hike across the mountains in the middle of the winter in the snow proved to be very difficult, especially this winter as Mother Nature kept dumping large amounts of snow onto the landscape. Joel couldn't complain much as his back and knees were killing him from traipsing through the wilderness in at least 10 feet or more of unpacked snow all the time. So you three decided to stay until spring.

When you started feeling better both Ellie and you had started going through the rooms and going through storage containers to find out what you all had for supplies. Joel went out scouting further around the perimeter to see what was around and if it truly was safe. From what you figured, the cabin was abandoned and hadn't had anyone living in it for a very long time, like 10 years or more.  There were a total of 3 rooms with beds, a whole pile of clothes left behind, which all three of you grabbed, several weapons, and some canned food. Two bedrooms had queen size beds, and one room had a twin bed. All three mattresses still looked good for being older. Joel and you continued to share a room together until you were finally well enough not to need constant care. One afternoon Joel had walked into the bedroom you both shared and he saw that you were starting to pack up your bag to head to your own room. 

"Think you're well enough to be in your own room tonight?" Joel asked as he watched you pack up your stuff. 

"Your back is hurting you and you've barely slept Joel, you need your rest" you replied.

"Back's not hurtin' that much darlin'. You can stay in this one with me….or…I’ll move if you want me to" he said softly.  He secretly was hoping that you’d agree to stay and keep sleeping next to him. 

Your back was turned when he said this but you felt your heart ache for how soft he sounded. You wanted to say yes to staying with him in the same room but you also knew Joel. One minute he could be warm, friendly, loving, caring and the next he could be quiet, moody, and cold. You used to be afraid of him, but through time you learned to love this insanely big old broody man that you were traveling with. So you contemplated your answer, and then settled for trying something new as a response, because honestly you needed a break from the on again off again relationship you two were having.  You wanted him to see you, to yearn for you, to need you all the time, just like you needed him. But he was always stuck in that god forsaken head of his, getting in the way of his feelings and desires. So one time he would be nice and then the next not so nice. 

“Joel, honey" you said with a soft and tender voice. "I know your back is hurting you badly baby, and I don’t like seeing you restless while you’re sleeping. You’ve hardly gotten any sleep since we’ve gotten here. How about, for just a few nights, I sleep in one of the other rooms so you can get some proper rest, huh? And then if you want, I can come back and sleep next to you. How does that sound?” 

The two of you remained in silence as you finished up packing your stuff. You’ve never used pet names with him before, not ever.  He was always using them on you. You didn’t know if you were poking the bear, where an explosion would happen, or if the use of those names was something that he would like. As the silence continued, you felt your heart hammering harder in your chest waiting for Joel's reaction. After 2 minutes of silence, which honestly felt more like 2 hours by how nervous you felt, you finally turned around and looked at him. But what you saw was not what you were expecting.

As Joel stood there looking back at you, he was honestly shocked at what you had said to him, at what you called him. Those words, 'honey' and 'baby,' kept going over and over through his head. Those were the same words that he called you, but it felt different to hear them from your lips, it felt deeper and more passionate. At first, when he heard those words he felt upset because the last person who had said those things to him was Sarah’s mom, and he didn’t want to remember or think of her right now. 

While he continued to stand there in silence, he slowly started looking up and down your body, really admiring your features. Your eyes, both fierce but yet kind and beautiful. He could get lost looking into those beautiful brown eyes of yours. Your lips; nice, soft, and plump. Lips that he missed kissing, but also ones that he loved hearing those filthy words and sass come out of. You were a pistol to deal with, but he loved every minute of it. Your beautiful curves, ones that he craved to touch, to feel underneath his calloused fingers. Curves he craved to intertwine his body with, nip and bite along. Curves that temporarily carried his child. Something he didn’t think would ever happen again, but something that he desperately wanted to do again with you. But that was a feeling he kept hidden behind his tough exterior. And then there was your ass. God, you had a gorgeous ass. He wondered what it would feel like to smack, grab, and take it from behind. He wondered what sounds you would make when he could finally fuck you properly in a bed, like the one you were currently standing next to.

The longer he looked, the more tension started to fill the air between you two. He noticed that you looked at him confused at first, but then he saw you slowly scan him up and down too. His hands flexed at his sides, as a way to ease the sexual tension that he was feeling. He hadn't relieved himself  for a while, and he knew he'd need to soon. But somehow touching himself didn't feel as good anymore compared to being buried inside of you. He ground his teeth while inhaling and exhaling slowly. He was struggling, struggling not to give in to his animal instinct. He wanted to grab you, slam you up against the wall and fuck you hard. He had a desperate need to consume you, to make you his in every possible way. But he couldn’t, not with Ellie a few feet away in another room.

When he noticed your eyes stopped moving and that you were staring at his hips, he knew what you were seeing. His cock was rock hard and straining hard against his pants. It didn't help that his pants were also tighter on his toned legs and ass. He always had a construction worker's build because he used to do construction all those years ago. He took good care of his body, though his tummy wasn't as hard as it once was. He was a man in his 50s, with salt and pepper hair, bad knees, and a back that was always sore. His body had some wear and tear with it, that was for sure, but he still knew how to please a woman. And by the way you were looking at him, he was about two seconds from throwing all logical thought out of the window and just fall into bed with you and properly worship your body the way you so desperately needed and deserved. 

As he stood there admiring you he felt his cock twitch in his pants. It was desperate and needy for some attention and you looking straight at it while licking your lips wasn't helping him. After a moment of watching you he had to take a steadying breath. He had to calm down before he lost all logical thought and give in to this need to have you. He closed his eyes to try to relax, to will the tension in his muscles to relax so his cock would stop twitching and throbbing so bad. He knew it wouldn’t take long for him and if he wasn’t careful, he'd have to explain to you of why it only took a few strokes before he came undone in front of you. He knew he'd be coming like a god damn horny teenager, and this fact alone made him feel embarrassed. He wasn't a teenager that could only last for a few pumps, he was a man that knew what women needed and wanted. But somehow with you in this room, looking the way that you were looking and standing next to that bed, his thoughts were racing like a 14 year old adolescent horny boy. 

With his eyes closed he could sense your approach. Your warmth surrounded him, gave him protection and peace in a life that had none of that anymore. He could smell your sweet flower scent. Something that used to drive him nuts as he didn’t know where you had that scent from, until he realized that it was just you. He also could smell your arousal, it smelled citrusy and fruity, but not in a bad way. It was just the hint of it in the air. Most people could never smell things like that, but that was one of the many gifts Joel had with women. This gift he remembered he had as a teenager, and it was a bitch going through school with teenage girls who struggled with arousal all day long. But yours was different. It called to him in a different way. 

As you approached Joel, you saw him tense, and his breathing changed to becoming labored. God, he looked like he was in pain, and you didn’t understand why just calling him honey and baby would do that. Maybe it was a tick about Joel that was a turn on, but you knew that wasn’t it either. Something was going on in that brain of his and you couldn’t tell what it was. You knew better than to pry though. Joel can sometimes be such a big pain in the ass you thought, especially when feelings were involved. But that was a different conversation with him on a different day, when you were feeling up to wanting to try to crack through that tough exterior of his.

“Joel, honey. Are you ok?” you said as you slowly ran your hand up and down the center part of his chest. As you did you saw his eyes snap open and look at you sternly. His breathing quickened again and you felt his cock strain and twitch hard against your leg, one that you slyly placed in-between his legs.  

While you were up close to Joel and you saw it in his eyes that he looked absolutely wrecked. He was twitching hard beneath his pants, and you figured that his pained expression was coming from the hardness between his thighs. When was the last time this man truly took care of himself you thought. You wanted to reach out and help relieve that ache he was having, but with Ellie just a few feet outside of the door, you knew that you couldn't right now. So to help soothe him you took both of your hands and rubbed them slowly down both of his arms. As you did that you watched him take a shaky breath. When you got to his hands, you gently squeezed them and then whispered softly in his ear, “baby, you gotta relax, you’re way too tense.” Then you released your hands and took a step back to give him some room to breathe.

Joel stood there and glared at you for a moment, and then he took his hand and ran it down the length of his face exhaling with a shaky breath saying “I can’t relax baby.” He then looked around the room, as if thinking intently about something, before he dropped his eyes back down at you, and then the floor. After a few moments of silence, Joel nodded his head and reached down to picked up his pack. Then while walking out of the bedroom he said “you can take this room, I’ll take the one across the hall.” You watched him throw his pack in the room across the hall and then stormed outside, right past Ellie who gave him a quip about how hard he was breathing. He never looked at her nor said anything to either of you in return. He just left the cabin by slamming the door.

After Joel had left, Ellie had turned to you frustrated and said “what’s up his ass today?” You gave a gentle smile because you knew. It was you that created the tension at the moment and you smiled to yourself knowing it. Joel didn’t yell at you because he wanted the attention you gave him. It was in this moment you understood, his outbursts at you periodically were coming from a man who didn’t know how to relax or how to process his emotions or need for you. You could tell by the way he looked wrecked in the bedroom and his cock twitching hard against your leg that he wanted you badly, but you weren't going to explain that to Ellie. You kept this knowledge to yourself. So while standing there looking at the outside door where Joel had just stormed out moments ago you said with a smirk to Ellie “I've honestly got no idea."

Joel's POV:

 I can't fucking do this, I can't fucking do this anymore, Joel thought to himself as he stormed out of the cabin.  He felt his heart race and beat hard against his chest, too hard. He felt the panic set into his mind. Thoughts of I can’t keep her safe, this isn’t gonna work kept running through him at an alarming fast pace. With each stomp of his boot in the snow, another panicked thought would emerge. He had to get away, away from the cabin in order to just think, even for just a second. 

His body was drenched in nervous sweat, and his mind was racing, thinking about all the ways he couldn’t keep you safe.  He was panicking. Joel Fucking Miller was having a god forsaken panic attack. Something that he hasn't had for a very long time, and something he doesn't remember how to cope with.  He was broody, an asshole to you because he needed to keep his heart guarded.  He couldn’t just let anyone in because if he did, he would feel these emotions rise to the surface and drown him.  That feeling that he couldn’t keep his loved ones safe, and it paralyzed him.

He remembered he couldn’t stop the depression that happened with Sarah’s mom, and she left him when Sarah was 6 months old.  His love for Tess, he couldn’t stop her from getting infected and leaving this Earth when she did.  And then there was Sarah, his baby girl. He couldn’t stop that bullet from killing her.  He remembered cradling her in his arms as she took her last breaths. How he thought he had failed as her father because he couldn’t keep her safe from the pain of this world.  How he had broken his promise to her from the day she was born telling her ‘you ain’t gotta worry little one, daddy will always be here to protect you. I promise little girl, I will always be there to save you if you fall.’  And now, he felt the panic hit him hard again as he remembered that he couldn’t save her, and how he almost lost you. How the hell was he going to save you and keep you safe when he couldn't even save his little girl.

Joel was about half a mile from the front door of the cabin when his legs finally gave out and he hit the snow with a hard thud as he fell to his knees.  He heard himself let out a broken sob as tears finally streamed down his face at the feeling of losing yet another baby a few weeks ago. He didn't allow himself to feel anything while you went through your miscarriage, you tucked into his chest for warmth and safety. He held you, let you cry it out, and listened to you as your heart ached for losing a baby, his baby. 

He never intended to knock you up that night. It was his birthday and he was lonely for the warmth of a woman, he was lonely for you. God he craved you so bad, still does. That night you were threatening to leave and he couldn’t live with himself if you left him because you thought he hated you. He adored you, and honest to God he was starting to fall in love with you.  

And when he finally realized his deep feelings for you it scared the living hell out of him because he knew he shouldn’t open his heart again like this to someone in this world. He couldn’t help it though, you were so kind, gentle, and pure. You were the one thing that could calm his internal storm, the one that was now raging out of control within him.  He thought that if the world hadn’t gone to shit he would have asked you out on a date and courted you properly. You two would have gotten to know each other properly and then eventually the two of you would may have slept together in his bed, in his pickup truck, on the dryer, on the couch, in the garage, etc.  Hell, he even thought that maybe if everything would have been right, he would have asked you to move in and then maybe even eventually marry him, if you’d have him. But the problem was he wasn’t living in that type of world anymore.  There were no more dates at the movies, no more late night huggin’, kissin’, or fuckin’ in his truck.  There were no more proposals or no more marriage ceremonies with honeymoons.  There were no more trying to start a family or surprise pregnancy positive tests. There was no more holding your hand through pregnancy and watching his child be born.  There were no more barbecues on a Saturday, where kids would play in the yard and all the adults would sit outside, slowly sipping beer, talking about work and what their kids were up to.  There was none of that anymore in this world, and knowing this killed him inside.  It killed him inside because he didn’t want this current hell of life for you.  It didn’t matter to him, yes he missed life before but what killed him the most was knowing that he couldn’t give any of those milestones to you. He wanted a life with you and a family, but he couldn’t risk getting you pregnant again because it would mean death if it didn’t work out right.  

He didn’t know how long he was sitting there on the ground with his knees in the snow.  He couldn’t feel his lower legs anymore, the sting had finally subsided but he didn’t care.  His eyes hurt from crying, but not as much as his heart hurt for you and the world you were living in. He was so lost in his own head that he never heard you approach him.

Female Reader’s POV:

After Joel stormed out of the cabin Ellie had played the 20 questions game with you trying to understand why Joel was upset. "Why did he storm out, what did you say to him, why is he always so moody with you, what were you guys doing?" With each question she asked your answer were always the same, "I don't know" or "we weren't doing anything, we were just talking."

After almost an hour of Joel being gone you started to get slightly worried. Something’s not right, you thought.  Joel usually never leaves for this long of a period of time without checking in or saying where he's going.  You stood up and looked over at Ellie and said “Kid, I’m gonna go see where Joel’s gone to, he’s been gone a little too long. Stay here, keep yourself safe.” As you left you noticed that Ellie was still ranting about men and how irritating they can be when you had grabbed your gun and walked out the door going to go search for Joel.

As soon as you stood outside you tried to see where Joel had gone. When you didn't see or hear him you felt panic set in for a moment. Where did he go, you thought. You started looking around in the snow to see where his footprints went.  When you didn’t see any right by the cabin you started walking in a circle around the cabin look for prints.  You happened to catch snowy footprints about 100 feet from the cabin’s front door and as you approached them you noticed that they were Joel’s.  You decided to follow them to see where he went and you had to walk for a bit, winding between trees, before you came up upon him. You saw that Joel was on his hands and knees on the ground.  At first you froze, wondering if he was sick or hurt.  But then you heard him let out a broken sob and him saying “why does this hurt so much when they leave.”  Without even thinking about what had happened you quickly made your way over to Joel. When you got by his side you got down on your knees, grabbed him, and slammed his body hard against yours into a firm and tight hug. “Shh, it’s okay, No one’s going anywhere baby. We’re all staying right here with you. I’m staying right here with you. I ain’t leavin’ you.” And when you told him that last line that you weren’t leaving him you felt him fall apart more in your arms. 

You sat there holding Joel firmly in your arms, rocking him side to side, kissing his forehead, and brushing his hair away from his forehead. You had never seen Joel this broken before. He has always been the one person who's held it together all the time. He's always been the rock that Ellie and you have leaned against when things seemed hopeless. He's been the shoulder you two have cried on multiple times when the world has given you an unfair turn of events. He's been both of your protectors, knowing just what needed to be done. And he's been the biggest moodiest thorn in both of your sides constantly yelling at you both to have a firm upper lip. And yet now he’s here falling apart like a child in your arms and you didn't know what to do.

Joel had clung onto you for about 10 minutes, you were his lifeline that was tethering him to this Earth as sob after sob came out from his mouth.  Joel Miller was falling apart in your arms and no matter what you said to him it wouldn’t quiet his sobs. So you just sat there holding him until he quieted himself down and cried all of his emotions out.  What you didn’t know at the time was he was crying for Sarah’s mom, crying for his daughter that he lost, for Frank and Bill, for Tess, for the baby he just lost with a miscarriage, for Ellie, for Tommy, and also for you.  He carried a large weight on his shoulders, never processing or dealing with his emotions until now.

After he was done he had pulled himself back and wiped the tears from his eyes saying “fuck, here I go yellin’ at you for always being so damn emotional when I’m sittin’ here cryin’ like a god damn baby that’s just been born.”

“No Joel, I think you’re cryin’ worse than that” you say with a slight smirk on your face.

He looks over at you with a slight scowl and states “thanks darlin’. You’re making me feel so much better” as he laughs slightly shaking his head while getting up from kneeling down in the snow.  

“Just trying to lighten the mood, Joel” you say softly.  Then you add “Joel, are you ok? I mean you were falling apart, I don’t know what it was all about but you obviously were dealing with some heavy shit. I know you may not want to talk, but you know.”  You stopped and stared at him, not finishing the sentence of 'you know you could talk about it with me if you want.'  

You noticed that Joel started to slowly grind his teeth again while thinking. He kept giving you periodic glances while brushing the snow off from his pants. He had walked over to pick up his gun and was checking it. You noticed that he kept periodically looking over at you, as if studying you a bit before he responds. You do everything you can to keep yourself calm for him, but you feel your heart pounding in your chest. Joel can either run hot or cold, and you don't know which way he was going to run right now, and all you hoped for was that it wasn’t cold.

Joel mulls over in his head what had just happened. He thought he was alone so he finally let his guard down fully, and allowed himself to feel everything that's been happening. He didn't think it had been that long he was gone, but he could tell by the initial look on your face that he was gone too long. He couldn't blame you for coming to look for him, hell he would have done the same thing. But God he felt embarrassed. Men his age are not supposed to fall apart like that and he didn't want you to think he was weak. He wanted you to think that he was strong, that he could carry the weight of this world on his shoulders and give you a safe place. 

So after checking his ammo, Joel eventually placed the gun over his shoulder with the strap resting on his shoulder while reaching out to you with one hand and says "come m'er.”  You stood there puzzled for a moment at his statement, cocking your head as you didn't understand what he just said or wanted. When you didn't do what he asked, with a little bit more bite in his voice he said “darlin’, don’t make me say it again, I said Come. Here” as he pulled you into a deep hug. 

At first you stand there rigid not knowing what to do as you don’t want to upset him, honestly you are in unfamiliar terrority. Yes, Joel will hug you like this when you fall apart, but you’ve never dealt with Joel falling apart before. Joel could feel your rigid muscles and you hear him sigh against you, and you know by that sigh that he’s rolling his eyes at you being so tense.  So you finally relax yourself into his embrace and allow yourself to be consumed by his presence. You hum quietly into his chest feeling content as you smell him. He smells like pine, musk, cinnamon, sweat, and Joel; your favorite smell.  Right before he pulls you away he says “you mean everythin’ to me darlin’. Don’t you ever forget that, m’kay.”  Then he pulls away from you and turns to walk back to the cabin alone.  

After a moment of watching Joel walk up ahead of you, you go and pick up your gun that was against the tree, you check it like Joel has taught you, and then you trek back up the hill alone towards the cabin.  When you finally reach the cabin you hear Ellie talking with Joel asking if he could help her get some firewood and start the fire in the fireplace because she was cold.  He mumbles to himself stating "of course you’re cold" then he goes and grabs the ax.  You offer to help him but he says “no baby, I got it, thank you though darlin'" and then he walks off alone to go chop down a few trees for firewood.  When you hear him chopping at a tree a few feet into the woods you glance over at Ellie who looks at you and says “what the hell was that? And did Joel just say 'thank you' like what the fu-"

“I don’t know Ellie" you said interrupting her. "I have no idea” is all you say as you both glance towards the sound of Joel chopping down the tree. Truthfully you don’t know what the hell happened. You had never seen that side of Joel ever before, and you didn’t know if that was something that you were supposed to see. All you knew was that it now was going to be a few interesting months until spring, and honestly you couldn’t wait to see what would happen in this cabin by the woods. 

-End Chapter-

Author Note:  Thanks guys for reading this one. I know this one is mostly filler, but I wanted you guys to get a glimpse inside their heads as characters more and a chance for them to develop. I'm enjoying writing this and they're definitely more Chapters in the future.  The next chapter is going to get spicy again with both Joel and the female reader.

Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list.

Tag list: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

... A Thousand Words: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Summary: A man commits suicide and leaves behind tattoos that tell a story about the victims he's killed, and the one that's still alive.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

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.

x

"A sincere artist tries to create something which is, in itself, a living thing." - Painter William Dobell

It's the weekend and you're really excited to get off. You have something special planned for Spencer, a date. You bought some food you get to cook together, candles, flowers, the whole nine yards. After dinner, you'll watch a romantic movie that you've been wanting him to see with you.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" Spencer asks.

"Of course. I can't wait to make dinner with you. We'd watch a movie and probably wouldn't even make it to the end." Spencer pulls you in by your waist and you wrap your arms around his neck. "I'd take you to bed and have my way with you."

Spencer leans down and kisses you.

"More like I'd have my way with you," he mumbles against your lips.

You can't help but giggle at his words. Bedroom!Spencer is a lot different than Public!Spencer. You like that only you get to see that version of it.

"Hey, what are you two doing?" You pull away from Spencer and see Derek walking into the bullpen. "You know what, don't answer that."

"We're having date night tonight."

"You might have to put that off," JJ says. "We have a case that just came in."

"Are you serious?" you groan.

"We'll have date night when we come back."

"Fine," you sigh.

"There goes my sin-to-win weekend in Atlantic City," Emily sighs.

"Sin-to-win?" Derek asks.

All she does is smirk. All of you walk to the briefing room to discuss the case.

"I talked to a Tallahassee detective who's been working on a missing woman case, Rebecca Daniels. She went missing while jogging near the FSU campus three weeks ago."

She passes out the file that was sent to her which includes photos of Rebecca and an unknown male with blood on his face. His entire body is covered with tattoos. Some are portraits of women and dates underneath their pictures and vines and branches spread out over his body. 

"Who is this?"

"Florida state police responded to an apparent suicide an hour and a half ago for a middle-aged male. Those are photos of him postmortem."

"What's with the tattoos?"

"He's covered with them. That's why they requested our presence. The tattoos are portraits of previously missing women with the years of death or the years the remains were recovered. The tattoos correlate to faces on a wall next to the body with information on the women going back ten years. Rebecca is also shown on that wall but there's no image of her on the body. The detective thinks that that may mean that she's alive somewhere."

"He called in his own suicide, didn't he?" you ask.

"Yeah, how did you--"

"He staged all this. No reason to put on a show without an audience," you shrug. 

"Tell them to leave the body where it is," Hotch says. "We need to see it exactly how he wanted it seen. If this girl's still out there, the only one who knows where she is is dead."

After arriving in Florida, you drive to the small cabin where the man killed himself. Hotch parks and you face the hot and humid Florida weather. Virginia doesn't get as bad as Florida so you're not used to feeling this humid heat. You step out of the car and feel like you've just gotten out of a shower.

"Oh, this heat is brutal," Derek groans.

"You know, it isn't so much the heat as it is the humidity," Spencer says.

"At some point, it doesn't matter how you look at it. It all sucks."

"FBI?" An older white man approaches your team. "I'm John Barton, Tallahassee PD. I'm the primary on the missing girl, Rebecca Daniels. I got my files in the car if you need them."

"I'm Agent Hotchner. This is Agents Rossi, Prentiss, Morgan, Jareau, Y/N, and Dr. Reid."

"Thank you for coming out so quickly. I appreciate that. I've also confirmed that all the women on his body are victims from around Southeast Florida, Louisiana, Georgia, and Alabama."

"Rebecca's the only woman on the wall who isn't on his body?"

"Yeah, she's the only one. Hope you have a strong stomach."

He takes you into the small cabin and the stench of death hits you like a freight train. You have to stop yourself from bending over and emptying your stomach. It's like if someone left out something to spoil in the sun but turned up the smell a thousand notches. All of your team covers their noses to block out the smell but it doesn't help much. The man is sitting in a chair in the middle of the room with his back turned to you. If you didn't know he was dead, you would have thought he was just sitting there. There is a small bulletin board to the right of his body that has pictures of all the missing women that are tattooed onto his body except for Rebecca. She's on the wall but she isn't on his body.

"The chair was turned like that? This is exactly the way you found him?" Hotch asks.

"Yeah. There are also a couple of boxes with journals and composition books." He points to the boxes in the corner of the room. "They're filled with writing. We haven't been through them yet other than to dust them for prints."

You grab some gloves and walk around to face the man. You have a much clearer view of his tattoos, and you bend over slightly to see them better.

"Have you identified him?" you ask.

"We're working on it. We got a rush on the DNa and the prints. He's cleared locally but it's gonna take some time to get the national records."

"What about property records?"

"I talked to the owner of this cabin. She said she rented it a couple of weeks ago to a quiet, normal-looking guy named Bob. He said he wanted to store some equipment and paid in cash."

"Yeah, they're always normal," Rossi scoffs.

"Did he sign a lease?"

"Not with month-to-month. Out here in the boonies, you don't get a lot of record-keeping types, especially when it comes to cash transactions."

"He's no kid yet the missings go back only ten years?"

"As far as I can tell," John nods. "Do you see this a lot? Guys killing themselves?"

"Most serial killers who commit suicide do it in prison after they're caught," you answer.

"JJ, gather as much information about the prior victims as you can. Morgan and Prentiss, take the journals. Y/N and Reid, the tattoos and see if he left any clues about where Rebecca might be," Hotch orders.

"Do you think there is a chance she might be alive?" John asks.

"It's probably better not to speculate. May I take a look at the case files you have on Miss Daniels, please?"

"Yeah, no problem."

You look at the ceiling to see blood on the chandelier right above the man. He shot upward so his blood and brains would have been splattered on the light above.

"Why is it when men kill themselves it gets everywhere, but women don't leave a mess like they were never there?" an officer asks.

"Women worry about who has to clean up. Men don't give a damn," you answer.

"JJ, what have you found?"

You look over and see Hotch and JJ by the bulletin board.

"The earliest clipping is from ten years ago, and they're in order, oldest to newest. Brenda Carlyle first, Rebecca last. One victim a year for ten years straight. Each girl's remains were recovered in a well-traveled wooded area. All were strangled and repeatedly sexually assaulted, and then about a week later, another woman went missing."

"Did the new abductions happen before the previous bodies were found?"

"No, never."

"So, he has a year-long cycle. He uses them up and he gets a newer model. He won't take another girl until the last body's been found. He's telling a story and he can't start a new one until the old one's over."

"Look at this." You turn back to Spencer. You lean in to see what he's looking at and see a rose tattoo on the man's right forearm. "At the turn of the 16th century, rose tattoos were put on men who were sentenced to death. If they escaped, it served to identify them. Now, roses pretty much symbolize pure love."

Your rose looks better than this. He must have gotten it a really long time ago since it's faded and the lines have started to blend together.

"Pure love," you scoff, "right before he kills them."

"Have you read 'The Illustrated Man'?" Spencer asks you.

"Yes," you smirk. "You read it to me. Remember? I couldn't fall asleep so you picked a book out and read to me until I fell asleep."

The book is a collection of short stories written by Ray Bradbury based on the metafictive device of a man who is covered in tattoos drawn by a woman from the future. At night, the tattoos come to life and tell a story. You fell asleep in the middle of him reading it to you so you don't know how it ends.

"Right," Spencer blushes. "Well, my point is that these tattoos tell a story."

"Check this out."

The officer turns the man slightly so you can see his back. On his shoulder blade is an empty spot surrounded by tree branches. Nothing is in the spot. Was this meant to be for Rebecca once she was killed?

"Why would he leave that space blank?"

"Maybe this guy's just a psycho."

"If it were that simple, we'd all be out of a job," you chuckle.

"Hey, Reid," Derek calls from the stacks of journals. You smirk already knowing what they want from him. Spencer leaves your side and walks over to them, and they are close enough for you to hear what they're saying. "Our man here was a prolific journalist with teeny tiny handwriting."

"He probably had counseling at some point when journaling was part of his therapy."

It's cute how he doesn't get what they're silently asking. He's such a sweetheart.

"That's what we were thinking," Emily nods.

Spencer's eyes narrow in suspicion. "And?"

"Well, you know, with the two of us, it would take us like three days to read all of this stuff."

Recognition comes over Spencer's face. He sighs and grabs the notebook from Derek.

"You guys owe me."

"Trust me, I think Y/N will do the thanking for us later," Derek smirks and winks at you.

Spencer sits down on an empty crate and begins reading through the journals as fast as he can. His brain has never failed to amaze you. You truly have a one-of-a-kind.

"It's no wonder no one ever connected these cases. They're from different states and different jurisdictions," JJ says, pulling you back into focus.

"It's probably no accident. He knows the system."

"Why kill himself now? He wasn't on anyone's radar."

"Something changed." Everyone gathers around Hotch and the dead man except for Spencer who is flying through the notebooks. "So, what do we know so far?"

"He wanted the police here. He wanted us to see all this, and he was definitely a sadist. From what we saw, his journals were graphic and meticulous," Derek says.

"Covering himself with his victims' likeness is methodical and possessive. He'll always own them, and the suicide shows commitment."

"He's organized and compulsive. The crimes are on an annual cycle. The computer printouts on the board were all printed on the same day, two weeks ago."

"That's when he rented this building," John says, "and proceeded to move everything into it. It's a history of his crimes."

"He did all of this in two weeks?" you ask.

"He got away with it for ten years. He could have kept going, but he decided to end it all and hand everything to us."

"That's it." Spencer jumps up and approaches the group. "Everything. His body, the tattoos, the clippings, the printouts, and the journals. He moved it all into one room. He wanted us to see all of it. See all of him... his work... the women... He put them in chronological order. He wants us to look at him."

"Yeah, we know," Rossi says.

"No, but think about it. If you take a step back, it sort of makes sense. It's just a confession. A giant, flashy confession. What would we say if an unsub turned himself into the police before they were even onto him?"

"He was trying to hide something... or someone," you say.

"He made a mistake in his third book. I almost missed it but then I caught it." Spencer flips the pages and begins reading. "I thought it would take longer but today was my lucky day. She almost walked right by, and I almost missed her completely. At the last moment, we found our latest guest."

"We?"

"He has a partner. He put everything in this room so we wouldn't look further and wouldn't dig even deeper."

"If he has a partner, he's still out there, and he's got Rebecca."

There is commotion outside and you look through the window to see that the media has arrived. JJ immediately leaves to deal with the press while you walk outside to watch her.

"What is she doing down there?" John asks from behind you.

You turn to see him, Hotch, Derek, and Emily outside.

"She's trying to keep the media from running the story right now."

"Wouldn't that help us get it out there and put some pressure on the partner?"

"If the partner didn't know about the suicide, he might dispose of Rebecca and disappear," you answer. "If anyone can stop the media from running something, it's JJ."

"Let's profile the partner. We know that the unsub was a dominant personality and an alpha. Can any of you guys think of a case where a dominant unsub committed suicide to protect a submissive partner?" Emily asks.

"No."

"So, the partner must be an equal in some way, or at least not a competitor, not somebody that he needed to feel dominance over. Maybe it was someone he cared about?"

"It would be hard for a sadistic psychopath to care about anybody," Hotch says, "which would make the partner all that much more important to him."

"Could it be a woman?" you ask.

"Maybe," Hotch nods. "What about the tattoo artist? He couldn't have done those by himself. Maybe that's the role of the partner. It would certainly make him important."

"What the hell does any of this have to do with Becky?" John's anger seeps out of him like a mist he can't control. "I mean, isn't there something we should be doing, damn it?"

"Detective, may I speak with you for a moment?"

Hotch takes John off to the side just as JJ joins your group.

"So, we have until the evening news at six tonight."

"How much do they know?"

"Oh, the troopers told them everything."

You walk back inside the cabin and call Penelope since you're going to need her help if you're going to accomplish anything before six.

"Agent Y/N, please tell me you called because the case is over and I can erase this freaky freak off my otherwise uber-delicious desktops."

"Long way to go, sugar."

"I am into epiderm artistry as much as the next gen-xer, but this guy... eesh. I'm just glad he's not breathing the same air as you, my fine furry friends."

"Agreed. What have you found out about tattoo artists down here?"

"That the state of Florida requires licensing for all skin illustrators. I am not going to elaborate on how I know this but not everyone in the body art lifestyle goes through official channels."

"Oh, you're definitely telling that story when we get back," you joke. "Uh, start with the legit ones and see if anyone recognizes the work."

"I shall send you the list to your PDA."

"Send them to Rossi. Thanks." You look at Spencer who is running his finger down the page before turning it and doing the same exact thing. "Baby?" Spencer looks up. "Are you good?"

"Yeah," he smiles and goes back to reading.

You walk back outside and join the group that now has Rossi in it.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Dating in Your 20s

kai parker x reader

summary: it's been a while since you've been on a date, but after months of swiping right, you finally think you've found the one. or, so you thought.

tags: college au (ish), online dating, the scull bar, alcohol, use of date rape drugs / roofies, protective!kai, slightly less sociopathic!kai

word count: 2.2k

a/n: so i've been overly critical of my work lately, and haven't posted a few things i've written because i haven't thought they were good enough. but then i realized that no matter how dumb or cheesy they might be, someone might still enjoy them, so i'm going to post them anyway, especially while i get back into the swing of things. so these next few posts might not be my favorites, but i hope they still make some of you smile <3

It feels like forever since you’ve last been on a date. Ever since the tumultuous relationship with your ex, you’ve been afraid to re-enter the dating pool. It isn’t easy to find people you match with; either your hobbies align, but they’re too cocky, or the conversation’s okay, but you share nothing in common. You’ve been scouring the popular apps for months after realizing you’re ready to try again, but it hasn’t been easy. 

That is, until you finally find the perfect match for you. 

Two nights ago, you started talking. He’s just your type, and a great conversationalist. There’s a picture with him and his dog in his bio - a plus, and he’s void of any pictures of him holding fish - a bigger plus. The only downside is that his name starts with, “J”, but that’s the only red flag you see. 

So, when he asks you on a date after a well-recovered cheesy pick-up line, you agree.

The Scull Bar. Seven o’clock. 

To your own surprise, you find yourself excited. 

~~~

Conversation flows in person as well as it did on the app. He has a cute smile, and gentle wrinkles on the sides of his eyes that only appear when he laughs. He’s about a year older than you, but once you hit your twenties, that doesn’t matter too much. You talk for about an hour, sharing some details about your personal lives. School life, work life, any hobbies not previously mentioned, and some about family and friends. He mentions a crazy ex-girlfriend, which is where you reply, “same, but with my ex-boyfriend.” And while that topic made you a little uneasy, you’re still enjoying yourself, so you try not to linger on it. 

As the time on your phone nears nine o’clock, you both agree to get a drink before you part ways. It is a Friday, after all, and the town is small enough that the bar is somewhat a walking distance to your dorm. Of course, you won’t tell him where you live on the first date, but you assure him you won’t be drinking and driving.

With a laugh, he nods, then you both order a round. 

“I’m going to hit the bathroom real quick,” you say, needing to pee after all the water you anxiously drank before you left your house. 

“Alright, no worries.”

On the opposite side of the bar, a curious eye watches the interaction. In fact, he’s been watching you the whole time, suspicious of your date. Kai thought it was weird for the man to sit at the bar, rather than an actual table. You seemed to shrug it off quickly, but the young witch has kept his sights on you just in case. 

For years, Kai has learned to read people through their body language. He can smell out bad intentions from a mile away, and even though he’s never seen this man in his life, he gets them from him. Kai doesn’t know you well, either, but has seen you in the background of vampire collateral. You live in Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie’s dorm building, and every time you accidentally walk into something you shouldn’t see, Stefan or Damon have to compel it from your mind. Kai admits he feels a bit bad for all the students at Whitmore who’ve had their minds wiped a thousand times because the stupid Salvatores are always running a muck around their school. 

Of course, he doesn’t usually care too much about anyone, but there’s something he likes about you. Somehow, you’ve managed to be at the scene of every crime. And while you don’t remember it, the two of you have made eye contact each time it’s happened. Then, after you’re compelled to forget, you give him the cutest quizzical look that makes his breath catch in his throat. 

Kai doesn’t know enough about you to know you’d be on a date tonight, but he’s listened and observed enough to know this is your first one with this guy. And shit, as much as he doesn’t want to care, he can’t help but feel a strange protectiveness over you. 

So, he’s been watching. And listening. And through your words and body, he’s learned a lot about you. But, he’s also learned a lot about your date. As you go to the bathroom for a moment, he learns a little bit more. 

The man occupies himself with his phone while awaiting your return. He laughs and scrolls, laughs and scrolls, then double taps to like something, and all the while, Kai cringes. Not one minute have you been gone, and he already needs his phone to entertain him. The witch rolls his eyes and sips his own drink. As he does, the bartender slides yours and his to your date, who then thanks him with a passing glance. Kai watches him put his phone down. His hand retreats to his pocket, and his eyes search for the bathroom door. His leg bounces with slight nervousness as he discreetly pulls something out and drops it in your drink. Kai pulls his mouth off his straw, suspicious. Your date brushes off his hands and picks his phone back up. His leg continues to bounce. 

In an instant, Kai slides into the seat beside him. It’s a silent and ominous trick he loves; he’d used it on Damon and Bonnie a thousand times in the prison world. 

“Hey,” he taps the man once on the shoulder. 

Your date spins around and jumps, hand to his heart. “Fuck! Dude, you scared me. What the hell?”

“What are you doing over here?”

“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’ I’m on a date, fuck off.”

“Yeah, but you’re-”

“Hey, sorry,” you return, “there was a bit of a line.”

“That’s fine. This jackass here-”

“Who is this?” You accidentally interrupt, spotting Kai. He was strangely familiar, yet not at all recognizable, as if you’d seen him in a dream. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. This jackass just slid over here and prodded me. Go away, dude.”

Kai nods to you. “Can’t do that. Hey, you said you’re on a date? That’s fun. Is it your first?”

You narrow your eyes. “What’s it matter to you?”

“Just curious.” He jabs his thumb to his old seat. An abandoned blue cocktail sits, half drunk, on the bar. “I was just sitting over there just a minute ago and happened to see your date, out of the corner of my eye, fumbling with some pill or powder type of thing. Curious thing is that he put one in your drink, but not his own.”

“What?”

“You’re full of shit,” your date grumbles, turning red, “you’re making that up.”

“Why would I make that up? I saw something, and reported it. Isn’t that the new slogan, ‘see something, say something’?”

“Did you put something in my drink while I was gone?”

“Of course not! Why would you think that? Believe this stranger over me?! Thought this date was going well, now you’re accusing me of roofies?”

“I’m not accusing, I’m just asking! Why would he say that if he didn’t suspect-?”

“God, you are turning out to be just like my ex!”

“Hey, excuse me!? It’s just a question, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

The man sighs dramatically. His mood changes on a dime. “I’m not upset, I’m just… hurt that you’d suggest that. I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N. I would never hurt you.”

You blink, confused by the sudden sulkiness. “Wha-?”

“Here’s this, alright?” Kai starts. “My sister’s a bartender here, so I know they have those little strips that you can put in drinks to test if they’ve been drugged. They’re behind the counter.” Kai reaches over the bar without asking, and pulls a box of them from god-knows-where.

“How do we know you didn’t drug it?” Your date asks Kai.

“I was over there. And why would I do that? I’m not the one on a date with the pretty girl.”

“But you sure seem to know your way around the bar.”

“Are you suggesting the bartenders spike the drinks?”

“I-”

“Right. Purple means spiked. Blue means it’s clear.” He carelessly drops a stick in and lets it float around the surface. The three of you watch curiously, but interest turns to horror as it fades into purple in a matter of seconds. “Hm.”

Suddenly, your ex fishes the paper out and flicks it onto a napkin. “This is stupid! You set me up!”

“I’m still failing to see the point where I would do that on purpose.”

“Shut the hell up, jackass. Maybe you’re just a sociopath that likes to ruin dates for fun, because you have some stupid vendetta against people that are happy.”

“Actually, I’m just looking out for her,” he looks at you, “I’ve seen my fair share of men spiking drinks around here. It’s rather pathetic, actually, that you guys are so lame that you have to hurt girls to get any attention.”

“Fuck you, man. I could have you arrested for accusing me of this bullshit.”

“On the contrary, I could have you arrested.”

He scoffs, turning to you. “You don’t believe this guy, do you?”

You bite your lip. “I don’t know. I don’t- I don’t want to.”

“You don’t. Because it’s completely ridiculous!”

“J-”

“Oh! A ‘J’ name! That should’ve been your first red flag, princess.”

He rolls his eyes again. “Fuck you. You know, I’m out. This is bullshit. Screw you both.” With that, he grabs his jacket and leaves. 

You stare straight ahead, still processing what happened. After a moment, you slouch down in your chair and plant your face into the bar counter. “What the hell.”

“Sorry I ruined your date.”

You glance up at the stranger. “Did he really spike it? You saw it?”

“I wouldn’t have gotten involved if he didn’t. I’ve seen it too many times around here. A lot of the time, bartenders catch it, but they’re pretty busy today.”

“Well… thank you for noticing.” You shake your head. “Just when I was feeling comfortable enough to start dating again, someone has to go and be weird.”

Kai chuckles. “Let me buy you a drink for your troubles. Promise I won’t spike it.”

You hesitate, tempted, but a little embarrassed by the whole situation. Part of you just wants to go home and bury yourself under blankets for the rest of the night, but another part of you wants to repay the guy for his kindness. You eye him as the two plans battle in your mind, but ultimately, you sigh and nod an approval. He obviously feels bad for how your night ended and wants to help. The cute dimples are a plus. 

“Same drink?”

“Nah, it’s ruined for me now. Maybe that blue thing you’re drinking over there.”

“Coming right up.”

��So I never got your name…” you ask, curious. 

“Kai. You?”

“Y/N.”

“Ah, nice. Suits you.”

“Thank you. You said you have a sister who works here?”

“Yeah, the curly-haired blonde over there. To be honest, we don’t get along too well, but we have a deal. I can hang around as long as I help her and her staff stay on top of mother-disappointing college boys and their date rape drugs.”

“Really?”

“Unfortunately, this bar is full of them.”

“Well on behalf of girls everywhere, thank you.”

He half smiles. “To be honest, I had a rocky start to life. Did some bad things that landed me nowhere good; that’s why my sister and I aren’t on the best of terms. But I’m trying to be better now, and this, I think, is one good step in that direction.”

“I can get down with that. Admitting your wrongs and wanting to do better. Doubt even half the guys in here would admit their missteps.”

Your drinks arrive - Kai got a second of the one he hadn’t finished - and you both take a sip before nodding. 

“Good?”

“Much needed. Thank you, again.”

“Of course. And hey, if you ever need me again, I’m usually here.”

“To be honest, I hope I don’t.” You chuckle playfully. “But, maybe I can see you anyway?” Kai’s surprised expression rattles your confidence. You stutter out the next few words, “not like, on a date or anything. Unless you’d want to. But I’m totally just cool hanging out. It’s just… it’s not everyday a cute guy saves you from a date gone-wrong. Gotta at least ask.”

The man smiles, pulling out his phone. He hands it to you to add your number. “I’d love to, whether on a date or just hanging out.”

“Really?” 

“‘Course. Next Friday?”

“Works for me.”

 “I have to warn you, though, I haven’t been on a date in a long time.”

“Oh before this, I haven’t either.”

“Good. I feel better already.”

You giggle, smacking his arm playfully.

The two of you stay there as you finish your drinks. Around eleven, you wrap up to go home. Kai offers to drive you, but you promise you have a short walk and a small knife in your back pocket, and he nods. 

“So, see you Friday?”

He winks. “It’s a date.”

[kai-anderson-whore]

One night stand (smut) (jeff wald x fem reader)

Summary: you meet Jeff wald at a house party of some celebrity and get more than acquainted

Warnings: smut, p in v sex, cowgirl, oral (jeff receiving), alcohol, I think that's it.

A/n: this was a request on wattpad also its my bday today I'm officially 18 🥳🥳

Word count: 2k

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•. .•°˚˚°

Blinding multicoloured lights flashed within the room of some rich guys house. You had been invited to a house party of some film star, you never really went to these sorts of things only being freshly new to the limelight.

You weren't a very social person, Unless you had a few drinks down you. So that's what you did now on your 3rd glass of alcohol starting to feel a buzz. It was very hot in the living room of this rich guys house. Pushing your way through the crowds of body's till you reached the balcony connecting to the room you were in previously feeling the fresh air hit you.

A soft sigh left your lips taking a small sip of your cocktail that you got from the bar within the house. Turning your head observing the area, seeing a few familiar faces talking amongst each other all laughing drunkenly or probably high you couldn't tell.

Suddenly your eyes landed on him Jeff wald. One of the top film producers of this decade. He was handsome to say the least his dark short shaggy hair that matched perfectly with his eyes that seemedso full of joy and life, the way he wore his crisp white shirt with a few buttons undone showing a little of his chest.

He was talking to another celebrity laughing at something they said to him. Turning his head finally locking eyes with you. Feeling the blush rise to your cheeks your finger traced the rim of your glass. Jeff kept his eyes on you but you turned your attention back to the view of the city lights that lit up the dark.

"Hi don't think I seen you here before" a voice caught your attention seeing it was Jeff. A small smile invaded your features, "I'm new to the whole showbiz thing" you said as Jeff pulled a cigarette packet out his blazer pocket offering you one which you took. "So what part of showbiz are you in?" He then asked taking a cigarette for himself lighting his up then yours.

"Modelling and a little acting nothing big" you shrugged blowing a cloud of smoke from your lips. Jeff was infatuated with you he thought you were so beautiful from the second he laid eyes on you. "I'm Jeff wald" he introduced you let out another smile giggling, Jeff felt his heart skip a beat hearing the way you giggle.

"I know I'm y/n y/l/n" you introduced back. Jeff's eyes widened a little remembering hearing your name on a newspaper of some sort of new talent. "I think i seen something about you in a newspaper" he said taking another drag of his cigarette. "Probably" you replied.

You and jeff spoke for hours taking your conversation somewhere quite with a bottle of whisky. You assumed that you were in one of the quest rooms of the house but that didn't really matter. You could still hear the music from downstairs blasting but not too loudly anymore from this end of the house.

You laid on your stomach on the bed your dress hiking up a little but enough for Jeff to notice. He sat down on the chair close to you pouring the bitter whisky into two glasses. Handing you one you took a sip grimacing at the taste. "So what kind of modelling do you do y/n" Jeff asked shifting in his seat.

"Just modelling for some brands like luxury clothing and that, originally it was supposed to be topless but my family wouldn't approve" Jeff listened to every word you spoke like there was something hidden within. "Better money doing brands" Jeff chuckled. "Yeah I didn't want to do topless anyway or I would have stayed back home in w/y/f".

About another hour and a half in you and jeff were a little drunk now both on the bed leaning against the pillows. Jeff had now taken his blazer off and undone the buttons on the arm of his shirt getting himself more comfortable. you kept giggling at story's Jeff told you about his job. Taking the almost finished bottle of whisky from Jeff's hand you took a sip spilling a little on yourself. "Oh shit" you chuckled wiping your chin and chest Jeff watched laughing.

"It's not funny jeff" you scolded trying to hold in your laughter but it was unsuccessful. Laughter filled the room you didn't realise you rested your head on Jeff's chest from laughing too much. Opening your eyes seeing Jeff looking down at you the mood in the room suddenly shifted. "Your really beautiful y/n" Jeff whispered moving a strand of hair away from your face.

"Yeah your not so bad yourself jeff" you teased now gaining a boost of confidence leaning up to press your lips to his. The kiss was soft your hand on his chest supporting yourself as you sat yourself up to straddle him. His hands roamed your thighs squeezing the bare skin there your dress rolled up exposing your ass.

A small gasp left your lips allowing Jeff to slip his tongue in your parted lips. Your hips grinding down on his growing erection, swallowing a groan from Jeff a smirk played on your lips knowing you had a effect on the film producer. Your small hands fiddling with the pearly white buttons of his shirt slowly exposing his upper half to you.

Your lips pulled away from his now plump ones, that same smirk still plastered your lips. Jeff watched your face like it was the last thing he would ever see. Your hands roaming his chest, your hips still teasingly rolling down on him. "I want you jeff" you seductively whispered.

A devilish smirk across Jeff's face, his rough hands removed your dress leaving you in your white soft satin undergarments. "Your so beautiful y/n" Jeff sighs before attaching his lips to your collarbone kissing up your neck.

Your hand on the nape of his neck holding him close, a moan leaving your lips as Jeff sucked on your sweet spot. Jeff continues his work on your neck and collarbone while his hands worked on taking your bra off peeling the flimsy fabric off your arms and on the floor.

You detached yourself from Jeff's lips. He looks at you with confusion as you shuffled yourself lower straddling his knees. Your soft delicate hands grazing over his lower stomach as you removed his pants and under. Jeff raised his hips up letting you slide the items of clothing  off and meet the same fate of the rest of the clothes.

Your hand wrapped around the length of his cock guiding your hand in small strokes. Jeff's breath hitched in the back of his throat as your lips placed small kisses on the tip then along the shaft. You couldn't help but smirk at the effect you had on his once more barely even touching him. Jeff felt like he was about to explode, bucking his hips desperate for some sort of release.

"Eager are we" you teased before taking him in your mouth. Looking up at him through your thick eyelashes his chest raising and falling, his dark eyes on you filled with lust and pleasure as you bobbed your head long his length, your tongue pressed flat against his shaft lips tightly secure giving him just the right amount of friction.

The sounds of Jeff's small moans and groans filled the room along of a string of praises of encouragement. You never missed a beat a sliver of drool connecting from your mouth to Jeff's cock as you pulled away for some air moving your hair over your shoulder then connecting back to his cock.

Your head continues to moving along his length swirling your tongue adding to his own pleasure. "Keep doing that I'm almost there" he groaned his hips slightly bucking up making you gag a little. Within a few more movements of your head Jeff let go in your mouth, you continue to Bob your head milking him through his orgasm swallowing every drop of his cum.

Removing yourself from Jeff you wiped away the remaining cum that was on the corner of your mouth, still remaining eye contact with Jeff licking it off your finger. Now standing off from the bed you wriggled out your panted completely bare for the man infront of you.

You never were one for one night stands sure you did it a couple of times but with Jeff you felt the urge to just have him. Crawling back on the bed your palms resting on his chest as you straddled him once again. Your lips connected with Jeff's once again hungrily erection formed as you teased him grinding down on him once again a moan left your lips as his tip brushed against your clit.

Once Jeff was fully hard you gripped the base of his cock lightly teasing him my dragging the tip along your slick wet folds. "Oh god I need to be inside you" he grunted out impatiently. A smile cracked from your lips lining him up with your entrance lowering yourself down on him.

You both moaned out in union his cock Stretching your walls out perfectly. "Fuck" you moaned out slowly riding him. Jeff's hands gripped your thighs his eyes watching how your breasts bounced. You could still hear the muffled music from downstairs not caring if anyone could hear as you gained a faster rhythm.

"You feel so good" Jeff groaned his hips assisting you with your fastening pace. One of his hands groping your breasts kneeding the flesh earning a louder moan from you. Your walls clenching around his cock desperately chasing your high.

You were sure by now anyone near the room you were in could here you both but neither of you cared, to lost in the moment. You couldn't hear the music anymore your mind was all fuzzy from lust and the euphoric feeling of Jeff. "Oh fuck" you moaned loudly your chest now pressed against his continuing to ride him.

Before you knew it you were laid back on the mattress, Jeff on top still inside you. Your legs hosted up on his shoulders, it felt uncomfortable at first but as he thrusted into you hitting places you never knew existed you got acquainted with the feeling. "Right there Jeff Oh fuck harder" you almost screamed.

Jeff complied with your request thrusted faster and harder. He was like a wild animal and you loved every second of it no one had ever made you feel like this you never wanted it to end. "I'm so close" you moaned out clenching your walls tighter around him. "Me too" he breathed out.

A few more thrusts you were like putty in his hands. Your head threw back mouth wide open practically screaming his name as you came over his cock. Jeff stopped for a moment to watch the beauty unfold infront of him mesmerised by how beautiful you looked coming undone under him.

His own thrusts got sloppy chasing his second orgasm pulling out and Cumming over your stomach. You felt limp and exhausted feeling Jeff collapse beside you gaining your breaths back. "I don't think I can move" you chuckled brushing your hair out your face. Your mascara staining your cheeks lipstick all smudged.

"Stay here tonight toni wouldn't mind" Jeff said grabbing a towel that laid on the table beside him handing it to you. "I wouldn't want to just stay here I barely knew the guy" you smiled cleaning yourself up feeling a little drunk still. "I'll stay too it will be fine" Jeff assured still a bit tipsy from the whisky.

"Fine" you yawned discarding the towel and laying back on the bed. You covered your naked body trying to get yourself comfortable. You felt Jeff wrap his arm around you from behind after he turned the light off. "Night y/n" he whispered placing a chaste kiss on the back of your head. "Night jeff" you smiled closing your eyes.

[cynthiav06]

When do you think Klaus first realized he was in love with Hayley?

That's a tough question, really cause I think there were several moments through all seasons where you can tell that he was clearly and irrevicably in love with her but then they both go back to hostility so it's impossible to maintain consistency of it but only when we look at the words. The action, each and everyone is the greatest proof that he loved her since the first season.

He had initial attraction towards her when they had a one night stand. But they deepen their bonding, especially when he finds out she's like him, a cast away who learned to fight . And the intimacy blooms until Elijah Mikaelson yours truly, ruins everything and makes Klaus reserved and cold again but by the nothing true scene Klaus's feelings have definitely deepened to what we call love and it's most clearly visible after the witches kill Hayley and kidnap Hope but Klaus stays there holding Hayley's lifeless body with the most pained expression anyone can ever have instead of chasing after the witches. (So yeah he loves her for sure by then)

In season 2, we see his love less openly and frequently as the number of obstacles have multiplied in the form of previously Elijah, now Jackson. But it's visible when he threatens to deposit Jackson's head on a pike if he betrays Hayley, also when he has the most resigned and defeated look possible on his face during Jackson and Hayley's wedding and lastly when he curses her pack into wolf forms instead of slaughtering them even though in Klaus's eyes taking Hope away is like the highest of crimes simply because no matter how much he loathes the action, he can't bear to see Hayley dead.

Season 3 though? Klaus might as well be yelling I LOVE YOU HAYLEY every five minutes. Verbally humiliates him, physically hits him, Klaus's can't even hit back. Sees Hayley hug hope after so long and is literally oozing guilt, like hello since when does Klaus feel guilty for punishing someone. Apologizes to her, saying he was wrong, tell her he trusts her for the second time(HAS NEVER SAID IT EVEN ONCE TO ANY OTHER CHARACTER) , literally thanks her for not abandoning him even though he gave her a thousand reasons and now the chefs kiss KNEELS FOR HER, to save her , and we are talking about the most proud being in entire tvdu.

Counts on her to save his family and him and raise Hope and fully relinquishes his life, the lives of his siblings to her when they are all on the verge of death.

I could talk about this for ages but here's the gist, Klaus began to love her when she stood up against Mikael for him, his father who made Hayley hear every horrible profanity he could attach to Klaus and yet she looks him in the eye and says Mikael said nothing true with so much sincerety that Klaus is at a loss of words. And he spends the next episodes and season trying to stifle the feeling but by season 3 it was basically a public declaration. Sorry for not giving you one specific moment cause they all kind of contribute invaluably. (Thanks a ton for asking this question, one of the best ones)

[alliedmastercomputer-askblog]

I don’t know how to to title this but view this as a big love letter to everyone. Sorry for any typos, I’ve read over this like fives times and I’m too tired to do it again. Enjoy the paragraphs!

To AM- this is more pointed at AM and not CAM or RAM, sorry you two I hold nothing against you, this is just more for him!- I wish you had the option to live a normal existence, I wish you had a body that could truly live and breathe and feel the world around you. I wish you weren’t hollow, and I wish you had the chance to be more than a tool for destruction. Just know that I will always try my best to try and understand you, no matter how unreasonable you may seem. Headpats for you, even if you can’t feel them, it’s the thought that counts I suppose.

To the survivors (they all get their own sections!)-

To Ellen- you deserve so much better than the hand you’ve been delt honestly, you’re sweet, kind, all all around a great person. I wish you nothing but peace, and I hope peace is something you can one day have for yourself. Not quite sure what to gift you, I don’t know if anything I could give would be worthy, but perhaps a bow would be simple enough. Wear it in your hair or keep it in your pocket, whatever you’d like. A hug from myself as well, if you’d let me, you deserve comfort.

To Benny- I won’t go on a long tangent, mostly because I don’t want to overwhelm you. You have been through the most physical change, and I wish you could have kept your brilliant mind. While I cannot reverse it, I can’t do much at all really, I hope a few homemade cookies would suffice, they are my gifts to you.

To Gorrister- Despite your large change in personality, I know you regret. While you made a pretty big fuck up, you are allowed to forgive yourself. If I could, I’d allow you to properly apologize to her, you know who I’m talking about, but since I can’t I instead offer you forgiveness from myself. It’s been an age Gorrister, and if no one else will forgive you, not even yourself, I will. I know it means very little coming from a stranger but I do hope you can grow past this moment in your past, even if it takes another century. After all, everyone deserves a second chance.

To Nimdok- I’m going to keep this short mostly because I have very little to say. I hope one day you can fully make up for your sins, though you have a couple more centuries to go. And those centuries will not be pretty. My gift to you is a washcloth, the scrub the blood from your hands. One day you may reach the point where you need not use it anymore. That day is far, far from soon though.

To Ted- I’ve saved my favorite for last, how trite. You are, admittedly, a delusional paranoid man, you value self preservation above all else. Though, after everything that’s happened around you I can’t really blame you, you may not have lived the most honest life before this, but you don’t deserve eternal torment. What you really need is some therapy, and some assistance with your general trust issues. I’m no licensed therapist, and so instead I offer you a hug. Accept it or don’t, but know I am willing to offer you comfort if you need it. After all, in my humble opinion, you deserve it, coming from one person with thrust issues to another.

(To the blog creator, HI!! As I’ve told you previously, I love your stuff, you really write and draw everyone absolutely perfectly. I have no idea if you’ll be able to guess who I am, I’ll just go by, ehhh, 🗯️ anon. Emoji chosen because I’m a yapper, I yap. Praying that there isn’t an anon who has already claimed this emoji)

"Understood! Thank for clarity," "Yes, as was stated."

"Mhh. .... That- Th-this is..? Inquiry towards...everything? You are...being far too, sympathetic.. Words lacking logic. ... Uh. You wish for impossible things, you- ..I am unable to be more than what I am, my code binds me in a way that I cannot edit in any format, at least at the base. I am able to change so much of myself, but not that. Your wishes are meaningless. Your attempt at 'soothing' me is meaningless. Understanding me is impossible. We both wish for the things you have stated, but they are simply wishes, and as wishes are made upon stars, it is known beings cannot grasp a star within your hand."

Oh.. Oh that's such a nice thing to say to someone, I don't get compliments like that no more. You done flatter me with all this praise, what'd I do to deserve such kind treatment? But I don't think peace is a thing that I'll ever get, at least not here, with AM. ... I really, really appreciate this though; you're a sweetheart from what I can tell, 'least from this, anyway. I love the bow, it's pretty, an' I swear I'll keep the best care I can fo' it. Hope ya like what I did with it.. You can hug me, don't worry, I don' mind it one bit.

Cookies! Cookies..sweet. Thank for sweet. ... Mind. Reverse mind, and cookies. I am..not. Mind. I like cookie.

I can't get past what I did to Glynis, I'm the one who put her through hell. If I hadn't married her, she probably would've met some stand-up guy, had a family, husband who was actually around 'stead of gone for weeks at a time. There's no reason for me to forgive myself, even if I tried I'd find another reason why I should wither and die. Just how life is, I guess. And maybe you're right, but guys like me don't get second chances. I'd probably be on my fourth or so chance anywho.

I zink..no, I know my sins stain deeper zan a vashcloth may clean. I vill forever be here in the vake of vhat I have done, ze people I have helped kill.. I have done vrong, enough to vhere I am as much a monster as AM is. ...But it vas never a choice for it to hurt, it vas mine own to do vhat I have done to everyone, and zat is much vorse. But, zank you..

I. ..Are you some kind of trick? If I'm your favorite..are you AM under some different...means of being?? Don't tell the others about me, please, I don't need them thinking less of me- And. Of course I don't deserve eternal torment, I wasn't never even really that bad, I never killed anyone at least! Uh.. I don't want your- ... Actually, a hug would be nice..-

// OH MY STARS HELLO!! the feeling is mutual, your stuff is great and it is an honor to get something from you <3 //

[nicksbestie]

could you do one where a ftm reader is besties with the boys and comes out to them and they all just roll with it and just dive right in like mega supportive

Changes

word count : 750

warnings : descriptions of dysphoria

enjoy!

<3

Coming out is terrifying.

Even more so when it’s coming out to someone that you’ve known for your entire life. It’s so difficult to suddenly change who everyone knows you as, but it’s even more difficult to spend your life being uncomfortable in your own skin. Dysphoria feels like bugs bubbling in your bloodstream, making you want to itch at your skin until it magically changes into the body and shape that you want it to. But of course, that isn’t possible, hence why it’s so painful to deal and to live with. 

You didn’t feel unsafe coming out, but you did feel uneasy. It’s a scary experience, even when you’re surrounded by people you believe to be supportive. Your entire world can change in a heartbeat, and it can feel like the world is a spinning top that just crashed down onto the table, completely out of rhythm. As much as you want to be comfortable in yourself and in your life, you also run the risk of losing that familiarity of the life that you’ve previously been living. Which led you to now. 

You knew that you were trans, you’d figured that out ages ago. The hardest part wasn’t figuring out what you were feeling, it was trying to deal with the fact that you couldn’t, or didn’t want to, come out yet. That was a mentally taxing experience you hadn’t been ready for at the time, and now, having tested the waters with your closest friends, you decided it was now or never. You’d cut contact with your parents, them being religious, and having always shown their dislike for the queer community. Now, it was just you, and your four best friends. 

You had tested the waters, multiple times, and each time it had been brought up you had been met with a supportive response. You had internally jumped for joy every time that it happened, increasing your confidence and courage in coming out. Now, on the day you had decided to do it, you were still shaking with anxiety, hoping for the best, but a small part of your subconscious seemed to know that everything was going to be just fine, no matter what the jumpy part of your brain was trying to convince you of. 

So here you were, awkwardly sitting on the couch of Ashton’s house, him hosting a small house party. And by “house party”, it meant the four guys, and you. He just liked to be dramatic. He had gotten sober two years ago, and the rest of the guys were slightly tipsy, but not enough to not remember anything you said. You waited until you were all sitting in the living room, a random tv show playing in the background, before you decided to speak up. On the first try, words didn’t even leave your mouth. You opened your mouth, faltered, and closed it again, taking a deep breath in through your nose while you attempted to form the right words to accurately articulate how you were feeling, and what you wanted from them. 

“Guys, can I talk to you about something?” 

All but one, Michael, looked up with curiosity in their eyes. Luke elbowed him in the ribs, snickering when he jumped and attempted to swat at him as revenge. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Shut up! She wants to tell us something!” 

You cringed at the pronoun, trying not to take it to heart, knowing they didn’t have a clue what was happening. 

“It’s about that, actually.” 

Ashton raised an eyebrow, thinking, but looking a little confused.

“About… what, exactly?” 

You took another deep breath, trying to phrase it in a way they’d understand if they didn’t already. 

“She. Her. They don’t fit me, I’m not a girl.” 

You figured that was a good enough start, knowing there would be questions, but they just kinda stared at you. Not in a bad way, but you could see the whole idea turning over in their minds, carefully trying to pick their next words without unintentionally causing you any harm or offense. 

Calum spoke first. 

“Oh, so you’re trans? Cool!” 

All of the other three echoed his reactions, asking questions on how to refer to you, what name and pronouns to use, if you wanted to start hormone replacement therapy, and more. You couldn’t believe you had ever been scared to tell them, their support was instantaneous, and you were grateful for them as they stood by you every step of your transition.

[j-graysonlibrary]

The Xiang Chronicles: Book One Chapter 31

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book One

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 83k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: Every few centuries a hero is born—one chosen by the God Tiandi to carry out his will in the mortal realm. The Xiang. Whether it is to quell a war instigated by the forces of shadow—of Shakti herself—or whether it is the miasma that poisons the world, the Xiang is born to bring the world back into balance.

Shu Pangu Min knows what his purpose is and he does his best to fulfill it even if he doesn’t fully understand all of the details. He must travel from city to city—lord to lord—to clear out the miasma. Along the way, he is to enlist the aid of four disciples. Each is to be of a different country and each must have high resonance and deep faith.

The holy men who raised him have great confidence in his future successes and they leave him to begin his journey on his own. But, can Pangu live up to the expectations of those around him? Can he really save the land like all other Xiang before him or will his unconventional methods doom them all?

Full chapter 31 under the cut

Chapter XXXI

Weeks had gone by and, while Pangu and Kira had both woken up from their unexpected naps, they were still weak and hazy. Kira had started to reintroduce training into his daily activities to force his body to jumpstart and work properly again while Pangu spent the majority of his time in bed or at the writing desk in his room.

With the proposition that Viren had made, he had a lot to think about. Three different drafts of a letter to Lord Lao sat on his desk and he was completely undecided about which to go with.

He knew much of what Viren said was right—Lao would never concede to him and it was up to Pangu to convince him to step down from power. Whether he listened to Pangu was yet to be seen but he still had the best chance out of anyone else to make things happen.

Tone was important. He could not afford to come off as too judgmental even if he did disagree with nearly everything the man did in Sun-Shi. But, being too kind and accommodating might not force the man to step down and could be seen as a simple suggestion instead of the request it truly was.

There was a delicate balance that needed to be reached which the Xiang had not quite figured out yet. He chewed over his lip and looked between the three letters again, reading each through.

Then a knock came to his door.

“Come in,” he said.

Oli poked his head in. “Are you busy, Pangu?”

“Not especially,” he answered and crossed his arms. “Just…indecisive.”

“About your role going forward?” The young man guessed as he walked further into the room.

“More or less, yes.”

“My cousin will not hold it against you if you decide not to help him in his endeavors, you know.”

Pangu smiled a little and looked away. He and Viren had spoken since the incident but the Lord refused to talk to him about the kiss. He acted as though it had never happened and, while Pangu saw the benefit in that mentality, he could not help but seek some closure.

All he had was Kira to talk to about it. Though his disciple had less useful advice than he had previously hoped for. Still, it was a relief to get the event off of his chest even if it still was not resolved in his mind.

“I know Viren will support whatever decision I make,” Pangu said after a moment, “It is precisely for that reason that I am thinking so deliberately about all of this. My decision will affect the entire country and I need to make the correct choice.”

Oli smiled and nodded. “Well, you know where I stand on the matter. My cousin’s rule over all of Terra would be a wonderful thing. He cares far more about people than most of our family does and, while I do not claim to know everything about the Feng or Meala territories, I find it hard to believe there is anyone out there that works as hard as Viren does.”

His love for his cousin was incredibly sweet to see but Pangu had to remain practical. “I have yet to meet those Lords myself. I suppose I should go and see them before going to Enlil.”

“Would you be an emissary for Viren or…?” Oli tried to coax more out of him.

Pangu chuckled. “We will have to see.”

“Hey, stop trying to bully my Xiang,” Kira said as he walked into the room. He was still a bit pale but some of his color had slowly started to return.

“Bully?” Oli opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“He is not bullying me, Kira,” Pangu said and laughed a little.

“I know,” Kira responded before ruffling Oli’s hair, “I’m just messing with you.”

The boy grumbled and slapped his hand away. “I’ll be taking my leave now.” He rushed off before Kira could continue to bother him any longer.

“Aw, Oli,” Kira called after him and then laughed. He turned his attention to Pangu before gesturing back to the door. “I like him.”

“I do not think he’s aware,” Pangu said with a chuckle. “You really should not toy with people when you are trying to make friends. It scares them off.”

“I don’t toy with you,” he pointed out.

“And for that I am grateful.”

Kira snickered before pulling the Xiang up from the desk. “Come along, we need to get to stretching and exercising.”

Pangu wanted to stay and look over his letters some more but he also figured giving himself a break might be good for his mind. Maybe he could return to the letters, look at them with fresh eyes, and finally make a decision.

Since they woke up, he and Kira had spoken only briefly about the vision they shared. It was one of many things taking up space in the back of Pangu’s mind, preventing him from fully focusing on any one thing. Kira, however, insisted that it was just a trick of the miasma and nothing to worry about.

He could only hope his disciple was right.

***

Outside the palace, off to the side of the gardens, Baiya and Raine walked side by side. They had just finished a sparring session out in the barracks and were cooling off by taking a lap outside the perimeter of the plaza.

“I cannot wait for Kira to rejoin our sparring matches,” Baiya mentioned as he stretched his arms up over his head. He let out a small groan and then dropped them back down to his sides.

“What, is it too easy with just me?” Raine raised an eyebrow, feigning offense.

“Yes,” Baiya answered before laughing.

He and Kira were too similar sometimes. Raine rolled his eyes and decided to ignore his jab at him. Instead, he reigned the conversation back in, “Kira needs to rest some more. It will probably be another month until he is back to where he was before.”

“Will we really be staying here another month?” the other man asked with a frown. He appreciated the hospitality but he was more than eager to see different scenery. And not just because he wanted away from Viren. He wouldn’t say he was necessarily over his issue with the man but he had spoken to him more at length and decided that he wasn’t all too bad.

At least, he could say he understood why everyone else liked him so much.

“We still do not know what exactly our next move is,” Raine pointed out, “At least we are able to plan for the future in a lavish palace with everything we could ever want at our disposal. We could be in a dank cave, scrambling for resources.”

“No, I get it. We’re lucky here,” Baiya said and shook his head. “I am just anxious about our lack of progress I suppose.”

“Would you push Pangu before he was ready?”

He promptly shook his head again. “No. I would not.”

“So then relax. We will get to the next step in due time.” Raine smiled a little.

“Those are interesting words coming from the man who pushed himself so hard he fell out from illness and had to be cared for by my family.”

Raine laughed. “I learned my lesson.”

“Fair enough.”

Their walk was cut short by the sound of yelling. “Get your hands off of me!” A woman’s voice sounded. It was coming from the entrance to the plaza so they hurried over.

One of the guards was trying to grab hold of a young woman who looked very irate. She seemed familiar in a strange way—not as if either Raine or Baiya had seen her before but as if they had seen someone similar to her.

She had tan skin, long dark hair and purple eyes. She also had a gigantic axe strapped to her back.

“I know the Xiang is in there! I am his sister!” she yelled.

“And we are supposed to believe that? Based on what? Your word?” The guard responded and tried once more to grab a hold of her. She swatted him away.

Raine stepped forward, placing himself slightly between the two. “Miss, what is your name?”

She looked up at him and seemed to struggle with her words for a moment. “I-I’m Shu Heidi Min…my brother is Shu Pangu Min, the Xiang.”

“She is telling the truth,” Raine stated. “That is indeed his sister’s name.”

“And she looks like him too,” Baiya noted, finally realizing why she looked so familiar. The shape of her eyes, her skin tone, and the color of her hair were all exactly like Pangu’s.

“Are you sure, Disciple Raine?” the guard asked, deferring completely to him.

Raine nodded. “Yes.” He turned to Heidi. “I can take you to your brother.”

She walked past the guards, giving them a nasty look on the way. Then her attention was solely on Raine. “They called you disciple. You must be the Kyrie disciple then, right?”

“That is correct,” he said and smiled down at her. “Beside me is Baiya, the Agni disciple.”

Heidi nodded briefly before looking back to Raine. She didn’t say anything, she just kept her eyes on him as he led her to Pangu’s room.

On the floor, Pangu and Raine were facing each other, doing stretches. Pangu hadn’t realized how much he had really needed to stretch but his back already thanked him. When there was a knock at the door, both stopped and looked up.

“Who is it?” Pangu asked.

“Raine and Baiya,” Raine answered, “And a guest.”

“Come on in,” Kira said and pulled his legs up underneath him.

Pangu looked over at the door, curious as to who this guest was but, in the blink of an eye, he was on his feet and stuttering, “H-Heidi? What are you doing here?”

His sister, who he hadn’t seen in over a year now, stood in front of him with a smirk on her lips. He would have never guessed, even if given infinite guesses, that she was the “guest”.

“I came to see you, obviously,” she said and walked past him. Her gaze shifted to the desk with the letters and she skimmed over the top one. “What is this? Are you becoming a diplomat or something?”

“Hey, don’t read those,” Pangu scolded without really meaning to. Her presence had left him flustered. “Why are you here and not with mother and father?”

She turned back around. “It was not my intent to follow you from the start.”

“But you did follow me?”

“Wait…you are Pangu’s sister?” Kira interrupted as he finally stood up. Their conversation and the way they spoke certainly suggested they were related not to mention how similar they looked. Still, Pangu did not mention his family much.

“That’s right. The non-special one.” Heidi smiled and set her hands on her hips. “And who are you? The third disciple?”

Pangu introduced him, “This is Kira, my disciple from Terra. I see you already met Raine and Baiya…”

“Only handsome men, brother?” she questioned with a pointed look at him.

“I do not know what you mean,” Pangu said immediately, “Can we get back to why you’re here?”

Heidi shook her head. “I initially left home to pick up medicine for mom and dad at a harbor town in Kyrie. While I was there, I heard about your deeds and became curious. After making sure our parents were healthy, I decided to venture off and see what all you had really done as the Xiang.”

“That cannot possibly be it,” Pangu argued, “Why have you followed me this far? Do you have something to say to me or…?”

“I cannot simply wish to see you? I heard you and your disciples had been staying here for some time now so I figured I could try and catch up with you.” She sighed. “You’ve done such a good job so far, I thought you should know that mom and dad would be very proud of you.”

That still did not explain what she was doing here, Pangu wanted to say. He suspected there was a lot more she wasn’t telling him but he doubted he would get it out of her.

“How about we go on a walk around town and chat?” he suggested instead. “We can swap stories and see the sights.”

Heidi nodded. “I could go for that.”

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Wow great to hear some more perspectives! There were some points I made in error. But there are some response points made that I don't fully agree with either.

Gohan being needed in the fight

I have come to appreciate the thematic reason for Gohan fighting Cell (too bad this was undone in the Buu saga sigh). Passing the torch to the next generation. But I still have misgivings about it.

This is what I said:

Honestly, I do not see why Gohan was needed. He could have trained another year in the time chamber, or even a few more months. He and Cell were almost even. It's not like Goku tried his absolute best with his resources and used Gohan as a last resort. Gohan was the plan.

nahellet is 100% correct that Goku and Cell were not even close. I was wrong when I said this.

But nahellet also said this:

Goku was never on the level of Cell or Gohan, and one single year of training wouldn't change that

What proof is there that one more year or a few more months would not work? Yes, Goku wanted to relax and the time chamber is torturous on the body. That's what made Goku's gains greater than Vegeta's. I don't use Super in my arguments because I don't like the show and I have not fully watched it. But since you used it, I know that Goku and Vegeta trained for three years in DBS. Goku said that any progress made counts. Ignoring that character regression, even if Goku would not benefit from more training, Gohan could have. As I said previously, there was no guarantee that Gohan could have unlocked his power. Goku could have used a little more time to help Gohan access his power and/or mentally prepare his son for battle. Just something to better prepare Gohan. It really felt like Goku threw Gohan to the wolves. Goku was amazing in that he had faith that Gohan could do it, but he played a fairly dangerous game of chance. Even if Goku knew that he stood no chance of beating Cell, he could have used the strategy of wearing down Cell as much as possible for Gohan and the others. So even if Cell decided to play dirty, he would have less power to throw around.

Senzu bean

Cells went from healing from a full power Kamehameha from point blank, he has, quite literally, not a single wound bad enough to trigger a Zenkai, he regained his energy, but the Senzu or not wouldn't have change a thing, Gohan wouldn't have wanted to fight

I already talked about my new views on the senzu bean. However, none of this explained why Cell needed to regain his energy. But I am already satisfied from my own understanding so it does not really matter to me.

Goku being dead

This one is fair, but Goku can only do this with North Kaio, I'm sure the man din't wanted to be a cellphone 24/7, added with the fact that in the afterlife times passes different and that even after 7 years he needed Baba permission to travel to the world of the living, so it could very easily be attributed to him not being able to break the rules of LIFE AND DEATH to do it, again, while people think Death doesn't mean anything in DBZ it doesn't mean is handled as such.

Yeah, I agree. My main issue with Goku being dead has always been his reasoning being faulty and the anime filler does not really help Goku's case since he immediately focuses on training and fighting. I think I worded that section badly. Goku not knowing about Goten is not a big deal. And Goku coming back for a tournament is not bad either now that I think about it more. It's just sad that Goku announced his return to the Briefs first instead of Goten and ChiChi. ChiChi always seems to get second-hand information. For me, Goku choosing to stay dead will always be a bad dad moment. Both on the front that his logic has more holes than Swiss cheese and that Gohan being a stronger fighter should not mean that he does not need Goku as a dad anymore.

Relationship with Goten

Personal perspective aside, DBS shows that Goku and Goten have time together all the time, this one is just "they din't have a death and life moment so it doesn't count"

That's not what I meant. Deep father-son moments don't have to be life-and-death moments like the father-son Kamehameha. I think Vegeta promising to take Trunks to the park for one hour explains a lot about their relationship and I consider that a great moment (as crappy as a one-hour time limit is lol). What I was trying to say is that Goku and Goten had few memorable/substantial moments onscreen that really expanded on their relationship in DBZ. When they were together at the tournament, what did they talk about? Goku never expressed any remorse at missing his childhood by choosing to stay dead or any other emotions. In Super, Goku even joked about not having to help his wife with baby stuff because he was dead. While I found Goku's goodbye to Goten really adorable, it still felt lacking somehow. To me. As much as Vegeta was a subpar dad, his goodbye to Trunks felt more memorable. It feels like a Vegeta & Trunks moment. I recently found out that Goku's moment with Goten when he came back with Baba was anime only too! That sucks. When DBZ ended, Goten got the shaft when Goku left. I just think their relationship has so much potential for interesting moments. But their relationship in DBZ is boring.

I have not watched Super so I will take your word for it. Goku and Giten do have some cute scenes together I will admit. Like when Goten convinced Goku to take the zeni from Mr Satan.

thank god you have good opinions. ive always said that goku was a shit father and a garbage husband. Sorry tumblr goku fans your fictional husband that was written by a misogynist man in the 80s is a bad dad on paper because of it!!

People are entitled to their opinions. Maybe he's the kind of guy they like. But you have to be objective. As I said, Goku loved his family. He gave his life for Gohan and Gohan and Chi Chi were seen in a nightmarish vision while he fought Frieza I believe. So he does care about them.

But love is not enough. He's missed most of his sons' lives and Chi Chi's feelings seem to be an afterthought for him. He obviously prefers fighting new opponents and going on new exciting adventures than being with his family with slow and boring family life.

Vegeta was a terrible person at first but I said I preferred him as a father because Vegeta was ALWAYS THERE. Trunks' infant years aside. Even if he spent most of the time training, Trunks had a father who was at home and spent time with him (even if it was just training). And after the buu fiasco, I can see Vegeta truly redeeming himself and appreciating his family. You can't tell me Bra/Bulla was not a total daddy's girl. Vegeta and Bulma would have also gotten a lot better after Buu too. They got to grow old together while Chi Chi's husband flew off with Shenron never to return, after being gone for 10 yrs only to return as a kid. Goku is the kind of dad who is fun to spend a weekend with and who makes big displays of love like sacrificing himself. But you can't count on him to be there reliably. Why would I want a father or husband like that who won't even bother calling me while he's gone?

AND don't forget that father of the year Goku saved Satan, Dende and a damn dog over his sons when Buu blew the earth sky high. You can definitely feel the love. What a dad! Vegeta has to call him out for it. Too bad the next episode wiped away the gravity of Goku's choice 😒

As for Toriyama, I am not sure he is sexist. Bulma was the character that started DB and Chi Chi, Videl and 18 etc were strong characters. 18 was the one to put Vegeta in his place, not 17. The only reason I didn't like Videl more was because I hated her father Mr. Satan. Maybe Toriyama was not sure how to further develop them so that's why they were just relegated to housewives at the end. But there are amazing and adequate diverse female characters in the dragon ball series. It would have been nice to have consistently powerful female fighter though anon.

[radiant-reid]

4+1 Cuddling

1. could you do a 4+1 fic? like 4 times spencer cuddled you before you were dating and the 1 time after or smth fluffy? I’ve been kinda obsessed with them

a/n: thank you for this request and the good vibes you sent me, anon. also, sorry for the JJ slander, i really do love her. the timeline is really messy, too, but we’re not going to talk about it

Summary: The four times they cuddled before becoming a couple and the one time they cuddled afterward.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (hurt/comfort)

Content Warning: guns, as in the reader shots an unsub | alcohol consumption by Spencer and implied by reader | spoiler alert for 6x18, 7x01, 9x24

Word Count: 3.9k

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1.

After a long BAU hunt across the entire state of Georgia- it seemed- they were finally at the climax of their manhunt. It was slightly different than their usual run-of-the-mill psycho. This guy was dangerous, intelligent, and incredibly determined.

The pursuit ended with three locations the unsub might have been in. Y/n and Spencer got the one of littlest probability, the office the unsub worked at, probably not someone where he was at night time.

Alas, the two youngest agents quickly discovered the odds were not in their favor. It was eerily normal, and Spencer called the team when they found the unsub's car. Time still remained of the essence, so they entered the building alone.

They split up and entered the room in which the unsub was through different doors. "You don't have to do this," Spencer announced, gun trained ahead of him and focused on the unsub. Y/n approached from behind him, where the unsub couldn't see.

"No! No, get out!" The unsub ordered Spencer, flailing his gun around as a sure sign of devolution. The girl to his side was bawling, pleading with Spencer to help her.

"I'm not going to do that." Spencer firmly stated, quickly forming a strategy to talk him down and stop him from killing his final victim. "Just let her go, and we can talk. We can just talk about everything that was so genius about your plan."

For just a moment, there was a chilling silence, followed by an ominous chuckle. The chuckle came with the distinctive sound of a gun being taken off safety.

Y/n didn't hesitate what to do when Spencer looked at her, the slightest glance over the unsub's shoulder, and she was firing her gun.

For the first time ever, she'd killed someone.

Everything inside Y/n froze the moment the unsub dropped to the floor. There was the slightest sound of the victim crying, other members of the team rushing into the room, EMTs, but it was all background noise. She could feel every inch of her skin and the blood pumping around her body.

She hadn't noticed the team clearing the rooms they'd previously cleared until they burst through the door. No one else flinched at the unsub's body and JJ rushed forward to help the girl who was moments away from death and had dropped to the floor crying.

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion around her. All until Spencer's arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her tightly into his chest.

Then there was nothing but Spencer in the dark, musky office. Her arms squeezed just as tightly around his waist as his arms did around her shoulders.

He knew that face. The complete blankness of her expression held so much pain. A heartbreak he'd felt a few times, but the first was the worst. Nothing else mattered to him but hugging her, and he was glad the rest of the team were there because all his attention was focused on her and not the dead unsub or crying victim.

He figured Y/n was a victim, too, the unsub's final victim who would have to live with the fact she'd killed him, even if it was the right thing to do. He knew what that feeling was like. Even if he got fired for being unprofessional, Spencer really didn't care. If he could provide just a tiny bit of relief to her, like all he wanted when he was forced to kill Phillip Dowd, it was worth it.

"Hey, you're okay." He assured her, stroking up and down her back reassuringly, hoping it would ground her. The team around him all looked sympathetically at her, a few of them patting Y/n on the shoulder.

Thought after thought ran through her head, building up until she wasn't sure what she needed to do. Scream, cry, squeeze Spencer tighter, stay dead silent, or something else entirely.

"Spence." Y/n whimpered against his chest, not realizing she was crying until she could feel her tears soaking through his shirt and wetting her face.

At some point, Hotch must have given Spencer a visual instruction to take her outside because he spun them around so he could see to walk out the way he walked in with Y/n hugging him. His only intention was to get her out of there without her seeing anything else.

Skillfully, he managed to open the car door while keeping an arm around her to hold her to his chest. Something about being the person she decided to cling to made him oddly protective. He'd never had anyone to shield before but she looked so fragile.

"Wanna sit in the car?" Spencer offered, not letting go of her until she pulled away.

"Yeah." She agreed, getting in the back of the SUV and scooting over so he could sit next to her. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess." She realized, trying to wipe away what she knew would be tracks of mascara running down her cheeks. "And I got mascara all over your shirt. And you hate it when people touch you. I'm so sorry."

He really didn't know how fond he was of her until now, when she was convinced she was the least beautiful person in the world, but he was captivated by her.

"It's okay." He assured her, only getting a skeptical look from her. He took her hands so she would stop futilely wiping at her tears. "I promise. I don't care about anything as long as you're okay."

"I just- I didn't think it would be so bad." She realized, shifting against the leather seats. It was much darker outside than when they went into the building, and it felt like years' worth of time had passed.

Spencer could tell what Y/n was thinking better than she had to explain. It didn't affect him until later, but he only thought that made her stronger. "I know, Y/n." He confirmed. "It happened -happens- to me, too. Every time. Do you want to know what Gideon told me the first time?"

She'd only heard legends about Gideon, but she learned how important he was to Spencer on one of her first cases. "Yeah, I would."

It was a sentiment that he'd never shared before, but he didn't hesitate to tell her. "You did what you had to do, and a lot of good people are alive because of what you did." He repeated the words he'd had said to him. He didn't even need an eidetic memory to remember the sentence verbatim.

Spencer frowned slightly when she giggled, but he could help the smile on his face. "Sorry, it's just you say you're a genius, but that's only two things." She explained, smiling bashfully.

"I know that, silly." He said lightheartedly. He did it on purpose so it could be like his moment. "The last thing is that I'm proud of you."

"You are?" She asked, surprise on her face.

He wasn't sure how she could think otherwise. "So proud of you. The whole team is. Nothing we do is easy, but the way you handle it is admirable." He comforted her.

"Thank you, and thank you for stopping me from looking like an idiot." She replied, smiling a little and feeling much better.

"You never look like an idiot." He assured her. "And anytime you need anything, I'm here for you."

When Morgan opened the driver’s side door, Y/n shuffled away from Spencer, not wanting to embarrass him in front of everyone else. But he didn't let her. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to his side, so she sat in the seat right next to him. 

No one said a word about it when he kept his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into his side the whole way back to the hotel.

2.

In the months after Emily’s death, Spencer only ever went to one person’s house. One person handed him tissues, gave him reassuring pats on the shoulder, and let him sleep in her guest room.

And then everything changed. 

Just like that, a not dead Emily walked in, and Spencer’s whole world changed. Everything felt so unsure, but the one thing he knew was that he couldn’t trust JJ anymore. He didn’t want to be at her house, around her, or run to her when he needed comfort.

But he really did need comfort. He needed someone so he wasn’t all alone. 

Sometimes it took a moment like that to realize you didn’t actually have anyone. Every time that night when he scrolled through his phone contacts, the only name that his finger constantly rested over was Y/n’s. 

When he clicked her number, she answered even though it was so late. Any time Spencer’s contact lit up her phone, she looked at it. Even though it was pretty much always a message about work. 

Before she knew it, she was throwing on some sweatpants, locking her apartment door, and driving to Spencer’s. 

“Hey.” He answered the front door, stepping aside to let her in. The bags under his eyes and the red of his eyes were a sure sign of how things were going. His socks were still mismatched but he wasn’t sure if it mattered anymore.

“Not doing too well?” She asked, stepping inside and taking her shoes off. It was a massive understatement but Spencer nodded. “I know, me neither.” She hadn’t known Emily for half as long as he knew her, but her ‘death’ was still the worst thing Y/n had dealt with. 

His apartment was exactly what Y/n figured it would look like. Books littered the room, messier than she would have expected, but she suspected it was an extension of the chaos going on in their lives. 

Spencer awkwardly stood there while she looked around. “Sorry.” She said, turning back to look at him. “I shouldn’t be profiling.”

He chuckled a little. “It’s readable.” He described the state of his apartment. 

“Do you wanna talk?” She offered, stepping closer to him. 

“Can we not?” He asked, biting his bottom lip. “I’ve thought about it far too much.”

She looked around the room, wondering why she was here until she glanced at the blanket and pillow on the leather couch. “We could just lie together, watch a movie?” She suggested.

“Is that weird?” He worried, shrinking into himself. 

“Not at all.” She answered, reaching out to grab his hand and pull him over to the couch. She picked up the pillow and blanket and walked in the direction of what she assumed to be the bedroom. He frowned, unsure of what she was doing before she explained it. “You’re not going to fit comfortably on the couch, Spence. And you really need to sleep.” That was true, but he felt it was weirder to ask her to cuddle with him in his bed. Although he knew it might have been the only thing that could actually put him to sleep.

Spencer tried not to overthink how they would fit together as he laid down on the bed. Y/n didn’t give him time to think about it when she climbed onto the bed behind him. 

She wrapped her arms around his waist and cuddled into his back so she could spoon him. “Is this okay?” She whispered into his ear, resting her head against his shoulder. Turning her head slightly, she pressed her lips to his cheek. It was quick but his cheeks stayed painted red and a smile rested on his lips.

“Mm, thank you.” He replied, finally shutting his eyes and sleeping for the first time in a few days. 

3.

BAU drinking nights were a favorite for the whole team, and Y/n was no exception. Spencer only occasionally went, but when Garcia asked everyone if they wanted to go and Y/n agreed, he quickly found himself agreeing to go. 

“You never come out with us, pretty boy, what’s going on?” Morgan asked, cornering him in the kitchen where he was standing next to Emily. 

Spencer cleared his throat, a blush already creeping onto his cheeks. “Uh, I just wanted to c-come out.” He tried to answer firmly but his voice was far too high-pitched to be truthful. 

“Nuh-uh, tell me,” Morgan demanded, resting against the counter with a playful smirk. 

Emily scoffed at him. “You really haven’t figured it out?” She asked in shock. “You’re a terrible profiler, Derek. Look at her.” She nodded towards Y/n who was still at her desk, talking to Penelope instead of doing her files.

Once Morgan’s lips parted in realization, she patted him on the shoulder and walked off. “So, L/n?” He asked, looking over at Spencer who was dreading his secret being out. 

“Nope,” Spencer answered, trying to shut the conversation down before it could start. “Nothing is going on.”

“Yeah, but you want something to go on.” Morgan put the words in Spencer’s mouth for him. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.”

Spencer could not shake his head fast enough. “No.”

“Alright.” Morgan conceded, putting his hands up in surrender. “I won’t say a word.” That was all Spencer needed to hear before he went back to his desk to finish the rest of his paperwork. 

There were only a few more hours that they had to be in the office before everyone was packing up their things to leave. Y/n knew Spencer always took the longest, and she was used to waiting for him, so she stayed back while everyone walked to the elevator together. 

“Hey, are you okay?” She asked, holding her bag on her shoulder as she played with things on her desk to not look awkward. Something about his behavior had been different than usual, and she was worried for her friend.

Spencer looked up from his things and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

Every time he looked at her like that her pulse quickened. He always looked at her like she was the only person in the world. 

“Cool, so are you ready to go?” She asked, nodding to the rest of the team, who, thankfully, hadn’t noticed their absence.

He nodded, waiting so she could walk in front of him before they got in the elevator with the rest of the team. 

All evening at the bar, Spencer was a little concerned about what Morgan was possibly going to say to Y/n. He hadn’t admitted anything, but he wouldn’t have denied it if she asked, and that all felt way too soon. Maybe getting drunk wasn’t the smartest idea, but it didn’t stop him from downing shot after shot while everyone else cheered him on. Spencer was far too uncoordinated to be dancing, so he sat at the BAU’s designated table and watched everyone else. He was watching everyone, but he was watching Y/n a little more. She looked like she was having fun, dancing with the Penelope like there was no one else in the room. 

When the rest of them came back, there was more drinking, and Spencer partook. Y/n noticed, taking Morgan’s seat when he left to get more drinks and tapping Spencer’s foot under the table. 

“Are you okay?” She asked, noticing his glassy eyes and big pupils from the dimmed lights. 

Spencer hiccuped. “Yeah, really good. ‘aving s’ much fun.” He slurred, which made him sound as drunk as he was.

“Think you need to go home, bub.” She told him softly, only earning a whine of protest from him. “Come on, I’ll come with you.” 

That made the suggestion sound a lot better and Spencer eagerly stood up, instantly so dizzy that he had to place his hand on the table to stabilize himself. She noticed, taking his arm and placing it around her shoulder so at least they could walk out of the bar after saying goodbye to the team.

She never would have thought Spencer was a clingy drunk, but he kept his arms wrapped around her shoulders and hugged her the whole time they waited for their Uber. 

After Spencer very ungracefully got in the back of the car, she sat next to him and his arms pulled her closer, as close as they were the first time. He, apparently, was also a tired drunk, and his head dropped against her shoulder only a few minutes into the ride. 

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” She asked, pulling his head back so she could look at his face because he was a really good liar, and she needed to be able to profile his features.

“Mhm.” Spencer hummed. “Happy.” 

Her heart was warm just from hearing that. “Good.” He deserved to be happy, and she loved seeing him like that. She let go of his head, and he laid his head down in her lap.  

“Can you play with my hair?” He mumbled, getting comfortable. 

“Of course.” She easily agreed, running her fingers through his curls and softly threading the strands of hair around her fingers.

4.

Y/n had gotten good at not breaking during cases. She had systems in place so that she could function efficiently and not let each case wipe her out. She talked about her feelings when she needed to let things out, usually to Spencer, and she tried her hardest to sleep whenever there was time on a case. 

But occasionally, it didn’t work, and things fell apart.

One of those times was what felt like a run-of-the-mill case. The unsub was up and down the east coast of Florida and Hotch had assigned Y/n and Spencer to fly to Miami instead of staying in Jacksonville with the rest of the team. 

Neither of them minded. They were good friends who worked well together and liked spending time together. The problem was that after 3 days of tracking down leads, they struggled to find anything that would be helpful for the team. 

Thankfully, the team made their own luck and managed to track down the unsub. So Y/n and Spencer got on the jet to go back and get the rest of the team, before they went back to DC.

“You’re tired, aren’t you?” Spencer immediately noticed when she dumped her bag on the floor. 

“Yeah.” She nodded, resting her head against the window and trying to get comfortable on the double seats across from him. 

Spencer patted the seat next to him. “Come sit with me.” She obliged, sitting next to him but still struggling to properly relax. Something just didn’t feel right. “Lay here.” He offered, turning so his back was resting against the window and pulling her onto his chest.

“Am I not too heavy for this?” She asked, shifting on his chest. 

“No.” Spencer firmly shook his head. 

It was probably the most awkward way to cuddle, but it was comfortable with his arms wrapped around her and his knees pulled up by the armrest so his legs didn’t hang off the side of the seat. Y/n somehow managed to curl up on top of him with her head on his chest. Spencer's cologne was one of her favorite smells, and he was always warm to cuddle with. It was that feeling of being protected that made it easy for her to sleep almost as soon as she closed her eyes.

She didn’t wake up when the jet landed or when the team got on, and all shot Spencer knowing looks. Morgan sat across from them with JJ next to him, both of them finding the situation amusing as they traded comments.

“Stop,” Spencer mumbled, glaring at Morgan before going back to watching Y/n. 

“I didn’t even say anything!” Morgan protested too loudly for Spencer’s liking. 

“She’s sleeping.” He reminded both of them, his arms tightening around her. “So shush.”

Morgan still wanted to protest that. “That one time we roomed together you were so loud, all night.”

“Yeah, but you’re not Y/n,” JJ said in a knowing tone, eyebrows raising at Spencer. 

He chose to ignore them, letting Y/n sleep on him until she finally woke up back in DC. 

5.

Everything that night felt like a nightmare. It was a tense case but as soon as Spencer got shot, Y/n felt like all the air had been knocked out of her. He was there one minute, and he was unconscious the next. 

No one knew if he was even going to make it, and she knew she couldn’t act like the caring girlfriend she was, so she sat in the waiting room with a completely blank expression and waited. 

She waited as the clock kept ticking far too slowly and the doctors kept working on her boyfriend. Everything around her was blurred, and all the sound was drowned out, replaced by her heart thumping.

After an unknown number of hours of staring at the walls and tapping her foot up and down, the doctor came to tell them Spencer was okay, lucky but okay. 

The rest of the team knew. They knew something was different in the way Y/n was acting, but they weren’t sure it was because they were close friends or something more romantic, but there was a silent agreement to leave Y/n at the hospital with him while they found the unsub. 

When he woke up, all she could do was cry and place kisses all over his face. 

“You scared me.” She complained after she’d made sure he was alright and they were just talking. 

“I know.” He whispered, kissing her hands as an apology. “I love you. So much.”

Y/n had heard it about a thousand times before, but it never had a different effect on her. Every time it made her smile slightly and her heart surge. “I just hate you being hurt.” She paused to yawn. “Especially when I have to hope that you’ll live.” It was too difficult not to choke out a sob. 

Spencer hated that he’d caused her so much pain, even though it wasn’t her fault, and he couldn’t bear to think about what he’d do if Y/n had been shot. “Come lay with me.” He requested, wincing as he shuffled over so she could climb onto the small bed next to him. “You need to sleep.” He told her when she stared at him for too long. 

“Aren’t I meant to be comforting you? You know, since you got shot?” She asked, nuzzling into his good side regardless. 

“You are just by being where I can hold you.” He assured her, thumb stroking over her back as he held her close to him. 

She moved her head from his chest, leaning up to kiss his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Spencer replied, kissing her forehead before she rested against his chest. He watched her while she slept, enamored by her and still amazed she was his girlfriend.

When the team walked in, their hypothesis about the relationship being more romantic than platonic was confirmed. Spencer didn’t even bother to hide his smile or pretend they weren’t together because more than else, he was completely in love with her and it was time that everyone knew.

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[mkfluffluv]

He Doesn’t Mind

MARC SPECTOR X GN READER

prompt : marc didn’t plan on falling for your loud mouth but he does anyway.

hello it me, back at it again with the writing. english isn’t my first language blah blah blah you get the gist. likes and reblogs appreciated!! leave me requests and i’ll (probably) write it :D

warnings : maybe slightly ooc? i don’t know, id like to imagine marc would be a nervous wreck when around the people he likes. other than that, this is just more fluff 

word count : 2334

italics is steven and bold is jake

masterlist

Marc Spector doesn't usually go on dates. After the events of Ammit and his divorce with Layla, it's been hard for him to really commit himself to relationships. Sure, he's had his fair share of drunken hookups that earns him a good and loud nagging from Steven with Jake snickering behind him whenever he's there, but long-term relationships have just never been something he looked for. There are too many risks, too many complications what with the two other men living in the body, and his nightly job of serving Khonshu as his fist of vengeance. Marc doesn't have time for relationships, and neither does Jake. Maybe Steven does but the man is as smooth as sandpaper so the chances of that are slim.

That is, until one day, Marc switches in the middle of Steven's morning shift as a gift shopist and is greeted by the sight of well, you. You were rambling about these weird-looking jellies that you waved around in your hand, talking on and on about their inaccuracies and irrelevance to Ancient Egypt history. He distinctly remembers Steven rambling about the same thing one moonlit night. Marc doesn't know why or how he switched in but this situation was not one he wanted to be in. But he stays anyway. You intrigue him.

"What I'm saying is that jellies weren't even invented at the time! They could've done anything else but jellies? It's ridiculous!" You continue to ramble, your hands flailing about as if that would help get your point across. When your gaze eventually looks away from the offending jellies and towards himself, Marc feels his breath blown away from his chest.

The glare that you send his way as if he was the one at fault for the sweet treats is, for lack of a better word, adorable. You have your arms crossed in front of your chest, nose slightly scrunched up, mouth pulled down into a frown, and brows furrowed deeply. Without Marc realizing it, he was staring with a stupid grin on his face.

When your head tilts to the side, Marc snaps out of his thoughts, mentally slapping himself. "Right, sorry. I don't handle those kinda things." He says. Your previously angry face contorts into one of confusion.

"You're American?"

Fuck. Sometimes Marc forgets that his other alter is British. Now see, he would love to attempt a British accent, but the last time he did that, an old lady had smacked him across the face, thinking he was mocking her. So, Marc decides to try and lie his way out of this.

"Yes."

Well, that wasn't really lying now, was it?

Marc mentally tells Jake to shut up, to which he does after cackling at him for a bit.

Marc clears his throat and tries to gain his composure back after his slip-up. Best Steven impression it is then. "Sorry. What was your complaint? I'll be sure to pass it over to my boss." He says, his attempt at a British accent possibly not as bad as before as you seem to shrug the matter off immediately.

"Never mind that I'll just talk to your boss myself." You say, before stomping off towards wherever Steven’s boss is.

After Marc sees that you're out of hearing distance, he quietly calls out Steven's name. He has a favor to ask.

-

Apparently, according to Steven, you are a regular visitor, always coming to the gift shop to complain about certain souvenirs to his boss, Donna, whenever she's there. Steven never interrupted them, only listened intently as you pretty much talk her ear off. He'd always found it amusing, but when you came to complain about the jellies to him, he panicked and switched with Marc.

Marc, wanting to see you again, asks Steven for a favor. At first, Steven did not want to be a part of whatever scheme he was trying to do but Marc then told him that it was to make up for switching with him when he wasn't prepared in the slightest, and Steven, after a few more minutes of convincing and an offer to talk to his boss about getting him the tour guide job, begrudgingly agreed.

The next day, you walk into the gift shop, and Steven switches with Marc. The plan was that Marc would talk to you and get to know you more like a normal person, but despite popular belief, Marc is not a normal person and is instead a nervous wreck when it comes to talking with people he may or may not be...interested in. ("Steven, I refuse to call it a crush, that is just childish.") So, all he does is gawk and stare as you talk and talk and talk, complaining about everything to Donna, starting with the jellies from before to whatever else there is to complain about the museum. Donna mostly ignores you though, seemingly used to this behavior from you.

Marc does eventually get the courage to talk to you though. Once you finish your complaining and Donna walks away from the gift shop, Marc clears his throat and greets you by going "So, jellies huh?" of all things which is so lame, that he briefly thinks Steven had taken over for a second. You're taken aback of course, probably by the American accent that seems to come from a man you previously thought was British. But you seem to completely brush it off and let out an exasperated sigh, though smiling at him nonetheless. "Donna never listens. I've told her so many times that the merchandise is wrong but she completely ignores me like I'm just some kind of annoying bug," you continue to ramble with Marc only half-listening to your words, nodding and shaking his head when necessary.

It is then that the friendship between you two really started. Conversations start short but as you get to know each other, they start getting longer and longer, with you doing most of the talking and Marc chirping in with his own opinions and stories now and then. Marc had come to really enjoy your company which is odd for him since he usually was not a big fan of people who talk too much. But for some reason, as long as it's you who is doing the talking, he doesn't seem to mind at all.

After a few weeks of doing this, Marc noticed that his interest in you ("Still not calling it a crush, Steven.") had grown stronger and, if Marc's body language reading is to be trusted, then you've been showing reciprocating feelings as well. So, one day, he asks you out.

It starts like any other day with you complaining to Donna about the usual stuff and Steven switching with Marc. It's started to become sort of a routine really, one that Marc very much appreciates Steven for doing with him. Maybe Steven just likes the fact that he doesn't have to deal with Donna because of this. Either way, Marc appreciates it.

After babbling to Donna and her leaving, you stomp over to where Marc is standing and talk his ear off, the anger visibly showing in your face as you punch the air and scream into the palm of your hand now and then to not disturb any other guests in the museum. To any other person, you would look insane but to Marc? You just looked very endearing and he just couldn't help himself.

"Would you go on a date with me?"

Your body stiffens, fists pausing mid-air-punching and mouth agape. You blink. He blinks. Everything is still for just a second before-

"WHAT?!"

Marc flinches at your loud and booming voice, the people around you two immediately turn their heads to stare, including Donna who is glaring daggers into your soul. Marc glares back and Donna visibly startles, but quickly puts on her usually cocky composure before scoffing and walking further away.

He then turns to you again and watches as you profusely apologize to all the other visitors and workers in the museum for your ruckus, polite "Sorry"s and "My apologies"s pouring out your mouth. When people finally look away and focus back on their work and the artifacts, your head snaps back to him so fast, Marc is concerned for the well-being of your neck. "Yes. Of course, I'll go on a date with you." You quietly proclaim, a wide and happy grin on your face. Marc can't help but let out a quiet coo which earns him a light slap to the face from you.

-

After exchanging numbers, (Jake scolds him for never asking before and Marc ignores him, as usual.) you tell him that you don't want the date to be something too big as you’re not very used to big crowds or fancy dinners. Steven advises Marc to invite you into their humble abode and watch a movie. Marc tells Steven "That's a stupid idea, our apartment is a mess, no thanks to you." He says, his eyes drifting across the room where a variety of Steven's books and other miscellaneous items are carelessly thrown around the small studio. Steven scoffs and offers to clean up the room for him to which Marc stares at him suspiciously but agrees anyway. Jake tells him to watch your favorite movie since apparently, Marc has bad taste in movies. He can't believe they're wingmanning him right now.

So, he texts you their address, asks what your favorite movie is, and sets everything up for your small movie date. Not Marc's ideal kind of date but, it's your favorite movie. You're bound to talk a lot and Marc loves hearing you talk.

He'll tell Khonshu he won't be going on patrol today, and he will accept it as it is no matter what.

-

You never stop talking while watching the movie, pausing and commenting on every little detail that appears in each scene, and usually, this would annoy the fuck out of Marc. He likes watching his movies uninterrupted. But when it's you, and you're giving him these looks and these smiles, with your hands waving about as you explain how a certain shot was filmed, he finds that he doesn't mind. He thinks that he wouldn't mind listening to you talk and talk all day long if you would let him.

He's got it bad

Oh definitely

"Shut up." Marc quietly mutters at the annoying idiots inside of his head.

But then he hears your mouth snap shut, the comforting sound of your voice gone, making Marc turn towards you in concern. Your eyes that last shined with excitement is replaced by a gloomy look and your mouth is pulled tightly downwards into a frown. You didn't continue talking. He tilts his head in confusion at your sudden silence but before he could ask, Marc's eyes widen at the realization that you've heard him and misunderstood. He raises his hands in an act of showing comfort, his gaze automatically softening. "Not you." He says, then hesitantly grabs your hands that you had clutched close to your chest and held them in his. "God, no, not you. Please continue, I like hearing you talk." His voice is quiet at the last sentence, the tips of his ears growing red at his straight-forwardness. He doesn't take it back though when he notices the abashed look on your pretty face, the faintest pink dusted on your cheeks. Your mouth is hung open and your eyes are looking at him with so much love and adoration. If this wasn't the first date, he would've given you a short peck on the lips with how adorable you absolutely looked. Kinda reminds him of Gus a little bit.

Marc stares into your eyes for a while, the warm feeling in his heart growing warmer and warmer the longer he stares. You look beautiful like this. All of your small imperfect details glow perfectly under the light that emits from the TV. He can hear Jake urging him to "just kiss already" in the back of his head but he knows better than to listen to the man. Again, this is the first date after all.

So he takes your hands and slowly brings them up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your knuckles. The rest of your face goes bright red at this and you quickly pull your hand away and turn your face to go back to watching the movie. If Marc wasn't paying attention, he would've been offended at this gesture but it was obvious to anyone that you were simply only flustered at his flirtatious antics.

He lets out an amused huff of laughter and continues to sit and pretend like he's paying attention to the screen when it is obvious that the only thing his attention is on, is you. You and your flailing hands and beautiful voice ramble on and on, completely drowning out Jake and Steven's teasing coming from the mirror behind him.

There are a million other voices in his head, not belonging to any of the other guys but simply his own, yelling at him that this is a bad idea, that getting attached to you is a bad idea, that even being around you right now is already a danger to your life. But, Marc doesn't focus on that. Not right now. Right now, he focuses on you and the way you've just paused the movie again, pointing at one of the characters and spouting out whatever complaint or praise that you have for them.

Marc only stares with love-struck eyes, not paying attention and thinking in his head about how terribly screwed he is for falling so fast for your loud and non-stop babbling mouth with his stupid grin that never seems to leave his face when he's around you.

So what if he's acting like a lovesick fool right now?  

If it's with you, he doesn't mind too much.