#puts my head down and goes to be alone again

[ankol-heap]

» in a room full of art, he'd rather look at you; itoshi rin x gn!reader

synopsis; itoshi rin is failing his art class. in order to graduate his senior year of high school, he needs to pass the class with at least a b grade. you're assigned to tutor the hot-headed soccer athlete—kind and eccentric, you throw rin's entire world off axis.

a/n; my first post on here! this is set after sae abandons rin, but he still goes to school. enter stage left, front and center—asshole, but very much in need of some love, itoshi rin!

word count: 5.0 k words | now playing every breath you take, by the police

itoshi rin didn't have any friends. it's a fact all his teachers know by now. he's a stoic student, one that doesn't participate in group projects and eats his lunch alone in the library. normally, this type of behavior exhibited by students should have been noticed by his teachers and counselors. but rin was seemingly well behaved, and he had straight a's in most of his classes—so nobody took notice of him. he felt like a ghost, drifting through the walls of his high school without a single person by his side. it was his first day of senior year, and itoshi rin had no expectations for this year.

the phantom ache in his chest is harder to ignore nowadays. he doesn't realize he's been spacing out again until the bell rings, signaling the start of the next class period. rin is snapped violently out of his daze. he glances at the blank canvas in front of him before realizing he's spent the past fifty five minutes doing absolutely nothing. the students around him file out of the room—chatting and laughing as he stands there, a bit dumbfounded with how this class seemed to suck the life out of him.

when itoshi rin was little, he loved drawing. his imagination would run wild, and sometimes—he couldn't always act out the magnificent battles he wanted his toys to perform. dragons and princes and volcanos—his medium of choice used to be these scratchy crayons his brother, sae, would get for rin from the corner store. rin remembers how his parents had to force him to put his crayons down just to make him eat dinner. and now, he can't even manage to put a single mark on a canvas.

during his teacher's instructions at the beginning of class, he was, quite vaguely told at that, to use whatever colors and styles he wanted to on a 12 by 12 canvas to reflect his soul. bitterly, rin thinks his canvas reflects him perfectly. he'll turn this in tomorrow, he decides. a blank canvas—no feelings, no purpose, nothing. just like him.

he'll take the shitty grade and move on with his life. rin wonders if there's even a language that exists to put his feelings into something other people can comprehend. he doesn't think there is. if he wants anyone to understand how he feels, they'll have to tear his ribs out one by one to reach the barely alive beat lying inside.

itoshi rin is seventeen years old when he falls in love.

"do you need some help cleaning up?"

rin glances away from his blank canvas, looking up to meet whomever it is speaking. the class is empty now. his art teacher is busying herself in the back of the classroom, unboxing a new pack of paintbrushes when rin swallows the lump in his throat.

"i'm fine,"

your smile is hesitant. understanding, almost, as you look at rin's canvas and the tubes of unopened acrylic paint surrounding him. the window panes hanging high towards the ceiling welcome in the rising sun outside, and rin can see the light shimmering in your eyes—glittering shards of gold gleam like morning stars in your irises as you wordlessly pick up the neglected paint and brushes on his desk—carrying them over to the back of the classroom and putting them away as rin watches silently.

slowly, he picks up his own canvas—and he stares at his classmates' drying ones with an almost envious kind of sadness as he places his untouched canvas beside theirs. where they had explosions of colors, reds and yellows and greens and blues blending and combining into the most wonderful art—rin didn't. he had nothing.

rin turns around to where he'd seen you last in the back of the classroom, before clearing his throat. he doesn't lift his gaze from the tiled floor beneath him, pressing his hand flat against the surface of a nearby table to steady himself before speaking up

"thanks..." he begins, but his voice trails off when he realizes you've already left.

—

rin was sitting in english class when he heard your voice again. to be completely honest, he had no idea you were in this class. rin didn't talk to anyone in all of his classes, so hearing the sound of your voice was a surprise. and where he sat in the back of the classroom, you sat towards the front. you're asking the teacher a question on last night's homework, and rin takes his chance to watch you freely.

you have a tote bag slung over your shoulder. there's a landscape painted on it, with little pins placed all over. you have your hair down today compared to the updo you wore yesterday. it's only when you turn towards your seat that rin finally makes eye contact with you.

time slows, and the conversation around rin drowns out as if he's ducked his head underwater. his brain is nothing but white static for that one second you look into his eyes.

actually, you didn't even hold his gaze for a full second, it was more like a fraction of one—but rin's heart rate didn't calm until the bell rang, and he was the first student out the door. he left class that day with clammy palms and pink-tinted cheeks.

rin didn't have art class today, but he was called down regardless during study hall. his art teacher was an old woman with a wrinkly smile who always wore colorful cardigans. rin enters the room, moving through the empty desks and chairs before he stops in front of her with a quiet greeting.

"rin! it's so nice of you to come so quickly, students aren't usually so courteous! please have a seat," she says warmly, and rin eyes the blank canvas—his blank canvas—laying beside her on the desk.

rin takes a seat, fading in and out of the conversation as she talks. he already knew what to expect, and of course, he was right. akamatsu sensei had the type of voice rin imagines story tellers have, or lullaby singers do. she tells him that she's having trouble seeing signs of progress in his art and wanted him to be doing better. but her last sentence is what catches rin off gaurd. this he did not predict.

"a tutor?"

akamatsu sensei nods her head slowly, folding her hands in her lap at rin's apprehensive expression. she watches his delicate brows pinch together in discomfort, soft lips pulled into a small frown filled with silent frustration. rin didn't understand why he had to get another person to tutor him—he thought art was subjective.

"i promise you, rin, i have just the perfect person in mind. they're my best student—i think if anyone can get your imagination flowing again, it's them."

—

akamatsu sensei introduces you and rin to each other the following morning—and rin's learns that your name is y/n. he repeats it in his head a few times, committing it to memory before you speak his name in the sweetest voice he'll ever have the pleasure of hearing.

"rin-san, i think we're going to get along well! we can sit together in class and work on assignments with each other, but we'll also have to meet after school. what days are you free?" you question, and rin's heart positively plummets to his feet when you grab his hand and lead him towards his seat—you occupy the usually empty chair beside him, and he follows your lead.

"that's fine. i'm free every friday, every other day of the week i have football practice."

rin's hands clutch his knees under his desk when you pull your hand out of his, a fruitless attempt to try and calm himself after you so casually held his hand. your fingers curved around his perfectly—and while the gesture might not have meant anything to you, it meant so much to rin. he doesn't hold hands, he can't even hold a conversation—but you're bubbly and bright in a way that has him submitting in one second flat.

"football? that sounds like fun! i'm sorry, i'm not very well versed with sports. do you like it?" you ask, organizing the paints in front of you as rin nods wordlessly, staring at the gentle manner in which you treat the art materials. you smile at his confirmation, grabbing a tube of a radiant midnight blue and placing a dollop of it on rin's blank canvas with a grin

"when we're in doubt, it's like our minds subconsciously pull away. they shut down and sorta refuse to do anything, right? i want to push you out of your comfort zone and give you a blue canvas to work with rather than a white one. we'll see what you do with that, okay?"

rin nods, fingers moving to take the paintbrush you hand him before he turns to the awaiting paint in front of him. his brushstrokes are slow and a little messy, but five minutes later—the canvas is entirely blue.

"what do you see?" you question softly as rin stares at his canvas. he stays silent for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, and then—

"i don't see anything."

rin's inner turmoil is a storm. was he supposed to be seeing something? all he sees is blue. there's nothing coming to his mind, no connection being made—his bites the inside of his cheek, angry at himself and his clear lack of creativity.

"that's okay. let's think together, okay? what do you think of when you think of the color blue? it can be the simplest thing of all, rin-san. anything at all," you assure, gently scooting your chair closer to his as he nods, clenching his jaw as he thinks. blue. blue. blue. what the hell is blue?

"the sky."

you're silent a for a few moments before he hears it. it's soft and muffled with the back of your hand, but you're laughing at him. his cheeks burn in an instant, and his lips transform into a scowl immediately

"whatever, i know it's stupid—"

"no, no! i was thinking the same thing, that's why i laughed! now, the sky is a painting all in its own! think about it—it's orange and pink during sunrise, like a fruity drink on the beach. it can be a misty, pale haze during snow storms. but, i want you to think of a time you saw the sky like this—an inky void, like a dark blue veil's been put over the world. can you do that?"

rin doesn't respond. he stares at the sea of blue in front of him—blue blue blue.

"...sometimes, football practice gets cut short on rainy days. the sky sorta looks like this blue on those days. dark. blurry—but it's still...i can see some stars. and the moon peaking out from behind the clouds, too. i guess this kind of looks like that."

rin's brows furrow together in concentration as he stares at the canvas after speaking. he turns away from it and towards you after another moment—and he's met with your gentle lips parted in awe. he blinks rapidly a few times to confirm the sight of your awe struck face in front of him is real, not something his imagination made up, before you break into a breathtaking smile.

"well then, let's get some black to add some darker shading to the sky! and some white—for the stars and moon...come on!"

—

itoshi rin is attentive. it's something you would come to learn soon enough. you're an avid artist—truly, it was your passion. rin can watch you scribble away in your sketchbook from where he sits in the back. english class is droning on, and for once, he's not paying attention.

you tilt your head over your notebook, staring at your drawing before you erase something and redraw it. rin watches the way your hair shifts and moves around you as you look at your sketchbook from different angles—perfecting your art. his lips twitch at the sight of your pout when the tip of your pencil breaks. you're restless, quickly sharpening it and continuing your drawing when the teacher's voice breaks him out of his daze.

"all right class, partner up! i'll let you chose your partners this time. please don't make me regret it," she sighs, and the excited chatter of the students quickly fills the once silent room.

rin straightens in his seat. he had absolutely no idea what the assignment was since he wasn't paying attention—but, right now, he didn't care. his eyes stayed glued on you, waiting to see who you would partner up with. rin has to crane his neck a bit as his classmates moved around and shifted seats—effectively blocking his view. once everyone settled down with their partners, rin was able to see you again.

and you're sitting by yourself.

rin doesn't know what urged him to walk towards you. he can hear his heart pounding—tugging him closer and closer towards where you sat. he swallows the lump in his throat, standing behind you silently before he taps your shoulder

you turn around, obviously not expecting him—because your eyes widen a bit when you see rin. and rin just...stares. he doesn't say anything, and it's like the two of you were sucked into a bubble, separating you from everyone else—you both stare at each other, blinking blankly and staying absolutely silent

"do you want to—"

"are you—"

rin wants to crawl into a hole and die. he shakes his head, pressing his lips into a firm line before speaking again. the flush of embarrassment in your cheeks was making him feel flustered.

"sorry. i was asking if you wanted to be partners with me," he speaks. rin places an awkward palm on the nape of his neck, silently questioning where he got the sudden boost of confidence to approach you from, because it had suddenly, and very inconveniently, vanished into thin air—leaving him defenseless. you smile warmly at him, quickly moving over and beckoning to the open seat beside yours.

"yes! i'd love to be partners," you say, quickly closing your sketchbook and putting it away as he nods gratefully, taking the seat beside you.

"thank you," rin says. and then, it's quiet again. the tension is as thick as butter, and you look around awkwardly before laughing, nervously.

"so...do you know what we're supposed to be doing, rin-san?"

this was the first time you saw rin smile. and laugh. well, not laugh, per say. but he snorts, and it's almost as if he was surprised by his own reaction as he shakes his head with a soft grin.

"not a clue."

the rest of class consisted of the two of you leaning towards each other with bowed heads, you soft giggles and rin's low voice filling the void between you two.

—

itoshi rin has a friend.

this is what friends are, he decides. people who smile at you when they see you, people who help you with your homework and expect nothing in return. slowly, but surely, fall turned into winter, and winter turned into spring. friendship is a blossoming thing, he thinks. because it felt like every day that passed, you and rin became closer. like a knot tightening further and further—he was growing closer and closer to you.

your guidance is what rin needs. direction and kindness—you helped rin navigate his own mind through art, a language he could use to spill his heart's deepest desires. every stroke of his brush came straight from the core of his soul.

charcoal was your current medium of choice this friday afternoon. every harsh fingertip pressed into rin's paper and ever gentle brush of his knuckles against the page has its own meaning—its own purpose. his tongue is poked out in concentration, and you watch rin work quietly as the quiet sound of akamatsu sensei's record player filled the silence. rin thinks of the way your delicate fingers transverse and move when you make art, and he mimics your movements—your gentle voice reassuring him.

"beautiful," you breathe breathlessly, tentative hands carefully taking the paper rin hands you as you stare at the art piece he'd just created. a battle field—it's set up like a football field, but instead of players, there were towering presences instead. swords and shields, a storm in the background, long blades of grass and a constellation of stars—rin's spark and love for art had been rekindled.

"thank you, y/n. i...i couldn't have done any of this without you. you're the only reason i'm not failing right now," he says softly, his voice almost sheepish as your eyes flit towards his—welling with pride.

"i wish i could frame this! it's beautiful...akamatsu sensei is going to be so proud of you, rin-san! this talent has always been with you. i just got the wheels rolling. you're very talented, i hope you understand." you smile softly, your eyes crinkling with the motion as rin's heart rate spikes at the sight

"rin," he whispers, and you blink in confusion before he clarifies himself

"call me just rin, please."

"oh! okay, rin," you smile, the familiar flush returning to your cheeks as rin smiles softly. if he moves even an inch closer to you, his knee will bump against yours under the table. rin is suddenly hyper aware of the space between you two. the music playing in the back ground fades to nothing, just like the world did, when rin stares at you. your eyes soften, and rin's positive his heart is going to burst right out of his chest and into your lap.

friends don't want to kiss their friends. the realization is chilling, and rin's eyes dart towards your lips for a split second—he couldn't stop himself, and the sight makes his breath hitch. soft, pink, plump—he wants to kiss you. rin really wants to kiss you.

the screeching sound of his chair against the floor shatters the serene moment of peace. you blink rapidly from the loud interruption as rin wordlessly picks his bag off the floor, slinging it over his shoulder in a single, fluid motion before exiting the classroom. you're left stunned and alone, your smile falling as he leaves without saying goodbye,

alone again.

—

rin is not familiar with love, you have to understand this.

in his eyes—love was a transaction. a give or take scenario, and if you can't give something useful—you get your heart trampled on. a certain brother taught rin that. he leaves school that day sullen and empty, his heart physically hurting in his chest as he walked home.

rin started ignoring you after that day. he didn't show up to your after school tutoring sessions on friday, he stopped turning towards you when your english teacher told the class to partner up—and your seat in art class beside him was now occupied by his backpack, a clear message telling you he didn't want you sitting near him.

you have to understand—rin didn't have anything to give. he'd taken your kindness, your love, your guidance—but what did he have to offer? he's not very gentle, and as graceful as his movements may be, he can't always control the bite in his tongue. and he's sensitive. his humor borderlines between dry and downright crude. and he's not used to having a friend, forget a lover—so, itoshi rin will ignore you. he will love you from afar, but he won't so much as glance in your direction anymore. because he cares too much, and rin thinks you deserve better. he doesn't thrive like you do, he destroys. and he's certainly not your mess to clean up.

"y/n,"

you glance away from rin's retreating figure. once again, he didn't bother to look at you all day or say goodbye—he simply left class. akamatsu sensei's voice pulls you away from rin as you quickly approach her desk, bowing your head in greeting.

"sensei," you greet with a weary smile as her gaze softens. she hands you a slip of paper, her voice gentle as she speaks

"rin has been leaving class far too quickly for me to catch up with! would you be a dear and give this to him for me, please? it's a permission slip he must sign for our upcoming field trip,"

the words otsuka museum of art were printed neatly at the top. you'd been looking forward to this trip for months—you vaguely remember mentioning your excitement for it to rin at some point when he still spoke to you.

the otsuka museum of art scaled five floors, three underground and two above—of the richest art history ever. there were reportedly over a thousand paintings—masterpieces ranging from ancient times to the present day from all over the world. it was your dream to have your own art in a museum like the otsuka museum one day.

"okay! that's not a problem at all for, akamatsu sensei," you reply softly, bidding her goodbye as she waves enthusiastically to you. you manage a meek wave, offering a small smile as you exit the classroom.

this was your chance to talk to rin. determined to find him before he left school for the day, you move swiftly through the crowded hallways—keeping a firm grip on your tote bag and the slip of paper between your fingertips as you push open the front doors of the school

and there he is. his strides are slow and long as he walks on the sidewalk about a dozen meters away from you. your feet hit the pavement as you quickly make your way towards him. he doesn't look up from his path to the school's football field—his hands remain shoved deep in his pockets and completely unaware of your approaching steps

"rin! rin, wait!"

rin pauses mid step, and you watch every muscle in his back tense the moment your voice reached his ears. he swallows the lump forming in his throat, closing his eyes for a moment before reluctantly turning around. his eyes are round in an almost childlike manner as you approach him.

you take a deep breath before grabbing his hand—and he's startled for a moment before you place the field trip slip in his hand. he blinks down at it in confusion, squinting at the small text before they widen a bit in realization

"akamatsu sensei couldn't give it to you earlier, so, uh, she asked me to," you quickly say, wringing your hands together nervously as rin stays silent, blinking at the paper in his hand.

"i...i'd be really happy if you came. of course, it's a voluntary thing but..."

even though rin won't look at you, resorting to burning a hole through the paper slip in his hands again, you continue with your words.

"rin, i don't know if i did something wrong to upset you, or if i said something you didn't like—but...i'm sorry."

rin's jaw clenches, and a frown digs its way onto his face as he stares at you. he shakes his head as if to say no, and just when he opens his mouth to say something—a loud voice comes barreling your way.

"itoshi! you're late! on the field, now!"

rin's coach's voice is booming and demanding of attention—and you're startled enough to flinch. rin exhales sharply through his nose, a vein threatening to pop on his forehead as he fights to keep himself from cursing out his coach, something he'd done many times before, in front of you.

"...we'll talk another time, all right?"

he doesn't seem to want to leave until he gets your confirmation, and you quickly nod

"i...okay."

he frowns at your hesitance, taking a half hearted step back, sparing you one last glance, before walking away. his shoulders are slumping just the slightest bit with defeat, and you don't have the strength to keep watching. you begin the walk home, thoughts scattered and heart hurt.

—

thankfully, rin did show up the day of the trip.

your breath hitched when you saw him board the bus—his dark, inky strands mused from the wind outside as he huffed, handing akamatsu sensei his field trip form before he turned towards the open seats. yes, there was one right beside you—but rin took the seat on the other side of the aisle.

doing this, he kept himself both near you and faraway—you heart sinks at the silent rejection. you spend the bus ride sketching in your notebook, trying your best to not look at rin.

—

you fell asleep on the two hour drive there. rin thinks you look a lot like an angel when you sleep. your face is composed entirely of peace. your sketchbook lays idly in your lap, and rin frowns when he notices it's slipping from your grasp.

he waits for the bus to approach a red light before slipping into the vacant spot beside you. he grabs your sketchbook, prepared to close it and put it safely away into your tote bag, when he sees what you were drawing

it was him.

—

everyone arrives to the museum after another fifteen minutes. and after going through security, your classmates and akamatsu sensei stand in the foyer—buzzing with excitement. you leave the group the second you're given the green light. everyone is given ninety minutes to explore the museum on their own before you all have to regroup and grab lunch. you slip away as quietly as you can, moving through the crowd of people in search of some much needed solitude.

you let out a breath of relief once you escape rin's presence. now, you can't see him at all—all you can see is the hundreds of art pieces and hallways waiting to be explored. they beckon you forward and call your name. your first step is hesitant as you remember how much you wanted to explore this beautiful building with rin just a month ago, but you take it anyway.

you move through the museum slowly, allowing your body to sink into the moment and absorb the entirely new world around you. the domed ceilings themselves have art painted on them, and you twirl and waltz through the halls, taking it all in.

your heartbeat calms. your nerves, fears, sadness—it fades to background noise as you take it all in.

unbeknownst to you, rin follows you the entire time.

his movements are precise and elegant. he can duck behind a nearby family or statue the moment he anticipates your gaze nearing his vicinity. he keeps a healthy distance, his eyes never leaving your form.

there's a soft smile on your face as you explore the museum. rin can't help but watch the way you excitedly chat to the security guards posted by the arts and explain each piece's history. he watches your animated gestures to the enormous structures as you explain the myths and stories behind them.

you're far too kind for this world. truthfully, rin thinks your heart is bigger than the entire museum—bigger than the entire world, really. you give, and you give, and you give—but you don't ask for anything in return. you're selfless—offering your sweet smiles to passerby’s and dorky art facts to anyone willing to hear.

rin would soon learn the love you offered was unconditional.

you're moving from exhibit to exhibit, before you finally enter an empty one. he stands by the entrance where your back is facing him. rin is nervous beyond belief—but he takes the step inside, anyway. you don't notice him at first, too busy staring at a painting the same height as you with a feverish type of awe.

he steps beside you, not meeting your gaze as he peers up at the painting. a man and a woman sit at a piano, playing together in harmony. they're in a ballroom of some sort, both dressed in formal wear. rin can tell they're in love with the way they look at each other.

"i'm sorry."

rin can feel you go rigid beside him—he can hear the silent hitch in your breath as you keep your gaze glued to the painting, your fingers tensing at your sides as rin looks away from the painting, turning towards you.

he takes a moment to admire you. your lips, your lashes, the slope of your nose and the curve of your neck—before speaking

"i'm not good with my feelings. i push people away before they get to close, but it was like you slipped through the gaps—i...thought i'd hurt you if i stayed. but i hurt you by leaving. i like you, y/n. i like you more than any person i've ever known—i-i think i love you,"

the words fall from his lips in a broken whisper, and he wants to reach out and play with your fingers—have something to fidget with as he awaits your response. he wasn't going to shy away from admitting his feelings anymore, that wasn't rin. the only reason he messed up with you the first time was because he's never been in love before. but, he was willing to learn everything about it with you—he didn't want to do it with anyone else.

his eyes are glazed with unshed tears, because not once, not ever—has itoshi rin so clearly expressed his heart to another person.

this moment would forever be engraved into his heart, brain, and soul—but the sight of your face when you finally look at him steals the air from his lungs.

your lip trembles in disbelief for a moment, tears of joy springing from your eyes as you laugh—the sound a melody all in its own to rin's ears as you smile with all your teeth.

his mouth slots over yours a moment later. soft and oh so sweet—itoshi rin's kiss was like pressing your mouth against the petal of a flower. his hands cradle your face, his breathing coming out uneven and quick—he kisses you hard, and you laugh into his mouth as your hands wrap around his neck. he tugs you infinitely closer, molding his form against yours.

"i love you too, itoshi rin..!"

rin's eyes crinkle with a rare show of genuine joy. his eyes don't leave yours as he watches your thumb gently caress his cheek. because in a room full of art—itoshi rin would rather look at you.

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part eleven

Back to our regularly scheduled chaos 🫶🏻

Warnings: angst, reader is just really down on herself in this one sorry guys, Hotch being so strangely sweet for once, but then Hotch being down on himself (these two are a fucking wreck i wish they'd just TALK IT OUT)

Hotch doesn’t give you the day off after this case, but when you walk into the bullpen the next morning, you wish he had. For no particular reason other than you weren’t able to sleep, and dread seems to have made a home in your bones overnight.

And, of course, everyone notices.

“Oh,” Penelope’s frown looks out of place among her bright outfit. You hate that you’re making her frown. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you reply instantly, flashing her a smile. “Just exhausted.”

She doesn’t seem too satisfied with your answer, but wraps you in a hug all the same. “If you need anything, come see me. Okay?”

You squeeze her tightly. “Thanks, Pen.”

She pulls back and lightly pats your cheek. “Anytime.”

Morgan comes sauntering over with his coffee, eyeing you both cautiously. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Nope,” Garcia saves you the grief, turning to rest her hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Just telling her to come bug me when you guys start boring her to death.”

Derek laughs. “Riiight.”

Garcia heads back to her office with a flourish, something about needing to do her own paperwork to justify all the hacking she did for this last case. You dump your things down at your desk with a sigh.

You try to discreetly look up into Hotch’s office to see if he’s here. When you glance back at Morgan, you see he’s caught you red-handed. 

“Looking for someone?” he smirks.

You roll your eyes, busying yourself with putting your things away. “Is Hotch in yet?”

“Not yet, we’re the early birds today,” Morgan says, propping himself on your desk like he belongs there. “Why?”

I’m trying to avoid him at all costs, why else? “Just curious.”

Morgan hums. “Alright. Well, no, he said he was taking Jack to school this morning, so he’d be in late. You would know that if you didn’t put yourself in time out on the jet yesterday.”

You roll your eyes.

“I’m gonna start up that tally again,” Morgan jokes.

“Be my guest,” you mutter through a small smile.

Morgan goes quiet and that scares you, because you know exactly what’s coming next. Goodbye Joking Friend Morgan, hello Serious Big Brother Derek.

“Hey,” he says, leaning toward you. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You nod. If only everyone who says that knew that you can’t. “Yeah. I know.”

“‘Kay. Good.” Derek nods as he slides off your desk, returning to his own and leaving you alone.

Reid whirls into the BAU next, nose in a book, nearly taking himself out when he stumbles into Morgan’s desk. So, a typical morning for him.

JJ and Emily come in next, coffees in hand, having run into each other again on their morning commute.

Rossi next, stopping by your desk to ask how you’re doing. He doesn’t press when you say you’re fine and heads up to his office, leaving you alone.

Then, there’s Hotch, who comes in with his phone pressed to his ear, a frown on his face. He doesn’t even glance toward the center of the bullpen as he practically floats up the stairs into his office, shutting the door.

You share looks with the rest of the team. Reid grimaces. He must’ve read his lips through the office window. He goes back to his book without saying anything.

You return to your paperwork, scanning the text. It’s necessary, and you know why you have to do it, but that doesn’t make any of it less boring.

Next to you, Emily leans back in her chair. “You should join us for coffee tomorrow before work.”

You lift your head, your eyes slowly trailing over to her to make sure she’s talking to you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smiles. “JJ and I always end up at the same place, we should get there a little early and have breakfast.”

“Uh, hello?” Morgan pipes up, pointing his pencil between himself and Reid. “What about us?”

Emily inhales sharply through her grin. “Sorry, girls only.”

“Alright, I see how it is,” Morgan laughs. He turns to Reid. “Hey kid, wanna get coffee tomorrow?”

“Why?” Reid asks without looking up. “The BAU has free coffee.”

Morgan sighs. “You’re not helping.”

Reid still doesn’t look up, but his lips stretch in that little smirk he always gets when he pushes Morgan’s buttons just for fun.

You turn back to Emily. “I’d love to. Where?”

She lists off the name of the cafe and then pauses, “Oh my god, I need to add you to the group chat.”

“Group chat?” Reid looks up this time. “You guys have a group chat?”

“Girls only,” Emily says again, looking down at her phone.

“Is Garcia in it?” Morgan asks.

“Duh,” Emily replies. “There.”

Your phone buzzes. Emily added you to Women Only. You snort. “Thanks.”

Garcia sends a few hearts and other emojis when she sees you’ve been added to the chat. You laugh quietly before returning to your paperwork, even though you’ve read the same line probably fifty times by now. 

The conversation carries on around you, with Reid even chiming in here and there, but you’re mostly silent. You know it’s unlike you, so you figure it’s a matter of time before one of the profilers calls you out for it.

But they don’t, because they don’t get a chance to.

Hotch calls your name from the second level. You lift your head, eyebrows raising. You find him standing just in the doorway to his office, nodding his head for you to come up.

Just great. Great.

You’re too tired to offer any protests, so you stand immediately, taking your lukewarm coffee with you as you head up the stairs. You don’t need to glance down at the bullpen to know the team’s eyes are on you.

Hotch seems to notice, too, because when you walk into his office, he draws the blinds.

You freeze in the doorway. This can’t be good, if he’s purposefully trying to prevent Reid from lipreading. He normally doesn’t bother.

“Come in,” he says quietly, rounding his desk. “Sit, please.”

You’re being fired. You’re sure of it.

Still, you shut the door, eyeing him warily as you sit across from him. You place your coffee on his desk so you can clasp your hands together.

“So?”

Hotch tilts his head. “So?”

“What’s the reasoning?” you ask. “I’m assuming I’m being transferred or terminated, whatever we’re calling it these days.”

If you aren’t mistaken, his expression seems to soften. Just barely. “I’m not firing you.”

You sit back. “Oh.”

“Why would you think I’m firing you?”

“Why would I not?” you shrug. “We don’t get along, I’ve done nothing but cause problems — that I will admit—”

“Stop,” Hotch almost looks pained as he cuts you off. “Stop. You’re not causing problems by being here.”

You stare at him tiredly. “You know I hate it when you lie to my face.”

“I’ve never lied to you,” he replies, just as tired. “And I’m not lying now.”

You’re not convinced of either of those things. “Okay.”

He sighs, leaning onto his elbows on his desk. “I know we don’t…get along, as you said, but you are a valuable asset to this team.”

“Hotch, my first two cases, both unsubs have gotten away.”

“Is that what this is about?”

You don’t know. You don’t know what any of this is about. “I guess. Look— I’m just not on top of it today. I’m tired.”

“Do you need to go home?”

You glare at him. “No. I said I’m tired, not that I can’t work.”

“Just clarifying,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair to study you. 

It makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You hate the way he looks at you, like he knows something about you that you don’t know yet — or that you don’t want to know. Because knowing him, he’ll say it out loud, and then you’ll have to deal with it, and you don’t want to.

You think for a fleeting, terrifying moment that maybe Rossi told him about your father, but Rossi wouldn’t. Right?

“It’s not your fault,” he starts, but he keeps his eyes trained on his desk. “That the unsubs have gotten away. We got Lila back home safely, and that counts for something.”

You hum, uncertain.

“We don’t always catch the unsub,” Hotch continues. “We help where we can, and sometimes that has to be enough.”

“It’s not, though,” you shake your head slowly. “It’s not enough.” You look over at him, that anger still simmering like always. You’re tired, but it doesn’t take much for it to spike again. “I still don’t think we should’ve left them.”

“I did what I thought was right and I stand by—”

“What if it was wrong?”

“I’m not going to sit here and argue what if’s with you,” Hotch snaps, voice firm and tone final. “I don’t have to explain my decisions to you.”

“No,” you reply, pushing yourself to stand up. “But you could at least act like you care about your team’s opinion of you.”

You get to the door before you pause, eyeing the closed blinds. You turn around as you cross your arms over your chest.

“What was it you actually called me in here for?”

Hotch barely shrugs. “I just wanted to check in with you after the conversation we had yesterday.”

You roll your eyes. Highly unlikely that that’s the only thing, but fine. “Sure.”

Hotch sighs tiredly. “Here we go,” he says under his breath.

Might as well tease him. “Just saying,” you give him a wicked look.“You better be careful. Kinda starting to make me think you like me or something.”

He scowls at you. “Go back to work.”

You’re laughing as you leave his office.

+++

Hotch stares at your coffee on the edge of his desk. You forgot to take it with you. He could call you back in here to get it. Or let it get cold and get rid of it later. Or he could take it to you.

He needs a fresh cup anyway.

He grabs his mug in one hand, yours in the other, and heads out of his office. You’re already back at your desk, laughing at something Prentiss said. Hotch feels the corners of his lips trying to tug upward, listening to your laughter. He doesn’t hear it often, especially not like this. Carefree and light. He’s used to the sarcastic, condescending laughter that you usually give him. 

His frown returns with that thought. He’ll never be the cause of this kind of laughter from you. Not as long as you seem to have him at the top of your shit list. It’s been a decade, so he doesn’t expect that to change.

Shaking the thoughts away, he heads down the stairs to drop your mug off on your desk with a silent, “You left this,” like he did with your jacket just over a week ago.

He doesn’t hear you say anything as he strides past you and everyone else to the coffee machine at the edge of the bullpen. 

Hotch loves his team for many things. Their subtlety is not one of them.

He can hear them whispering, all trying to figure out what you and him discussed and why the blinds had to be drawn. None of them believe you when you say it was nothing.

For what Hotch had originally planned, yes, the blinds needed to be drawn. He wanted privacy to ask you about your father.

But how was he supposed to bring up your father when your first thought was that you were being fired? When your first thought is that you’re doing more harm than good by being here?

Regardless of how much pleasure you seem to find in pushing his buttons, he couldn’t let a member of his team go without addressing those kinds of thoughts. You’re a valuable addition to this team. If you weren’t, you never would’ve been hired by Strauss, let alone by him.

It’s bad luck, sure, that these last two cases haven’t ended the way they’d like. But that’s no one’s fault, and certainly not yours alone. It just happens. They can’t save everyone, solve every case quickly and easily. Nothing is neat and tied in a bow in this field. He needs you to understand that. Because if you don’t, you won’t survive. 

And he needs you to survive.

Hotch turns around to head back to his office, pausing to raise an eyebrow when his team scrambles cartoon-style to “act natural” — as if he has no clue they weren’t watching him.

He loves this team, he does. He shakes his head as he walks around them.

He feels your eyes on him, though, as he ascends the stairs. He glances down at you and you avert your eyes masterfully. If he didn’t know you so well, he wouldn’t have known you were watching him.

Hotch is too busy looking at you to notice Rossi has stepped out of his own office, and the older man gives Hotch an equally skeptical look when Hotch nearly crashes into him.

Rossi follows Hotch into his office, shutting the door behind him.

“What’s with all the secrecy today?” Rossi asks, gesturing to the closed blinds, tugging one down with a smirk as he makes eye contact with Prentiss. He lets it snap back into place.

“Nothing,” Hotch replies, settling back down at his desk. “You can open them.”

Rossi doesn’t.

Instead, he stands in front of Aaron’s desk, hands shoved in his pockets. “Did you tell her?”

“She’s still here, so obviously I didn’t,” Hotch mutters, looking up at his friend. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Rossi says, turning to open the blinds.

Unsurprisingly, the entire team, except for you, is caught in their attempted eavesdropping. Rossi laughs as he turns back around to face Aaron.

“Warn me before you do? I’d like some time to prepare to get out of here before you get a chair thrown in your face,” Rossi says.

Hotch stares at him. A chair will be the least of his worries when he eventually confronts you.

His eyes flick to you down in the bullpen, focused and content, swatting Morgan away when he tries to toss balls of paper at your head. Hotch doesn’t want to ruin this, the joy you’ve found here. 

But ever since the first day you met, that’s all Hotch has known how to do. Say the wrong thing and make you hate him. Over and over. 

It’s no wonder you push his buttons so much and fight so hard to get under his skin. It’s not like he can’t understand. It’s a vicious cycle with the two of you, and there’s no way out.

At least not one where no one gets hurt.

[morgana-larkin]

I was gonna have this out earlier but I was having major period cramps earlier so it's didn't really happen. Anyway, the story really takes a turn here. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Part 11

Just Tired - Part 12

Warnings: Manipulative relationship (Mentioned), Swearing, Smut

Words: 4.05k

Melissa wakes up and looks over to beside her and expects a young woman there only to find it empty. She then looks around and sees that she’s in your room and some memories come to her brain.  She gets up, gets dressed and goes downstairs and sees you’re already up. 

“Morning, how do you feel?” You ask her.

“Not so good.” She says. “My memories are a little hazy, why am I in your house?” She asks you.

“Well I wasn’t there the entire time so I can only tell you what I know.” You say to her and she nods. “I went there because Barb was worried about you and I found you dancing with some young woman. You threw up when I tried talking to you but we had a discussion right after to which you childishly walked away and went back to dance. I stayed to keep an eye on you and then you began making out with some girl, apparently to hurt me, and then I walked out. You followed after me, and also tripped, I brought you back here to clean up the cut and then you fell asleep.” You explain and Melissa takes a few seconds to process what you just said as some memories were coming back to her. 

“I was such an ass to you.” She says and then comes to join you on the couch. You hand her a plate with some toast on it and she takes it. “Thank you.” She says and takes a bite.

“Why were you being an ass? You ignored me all week and then went on Friday and Saturday night to the bar alone. You mentioned that you thought I was moving on from you but nothing else. I mean why were you spiraling?” 

“Because I thought I was losing you and you make me feel safe. So I thought I was losing what makes me feel safe.” She explains.

“Well you don’t have to worry about that, I’m not going anywhere.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“Thank you.” She says softly. “And I’m sorry.”

“I understand. I’m your safety net right now and it’s scary when you think you could lose it.” You tell her and she looks down as a tear falls down her face. “Melissa.” You say and you gently grab her chin and get her to look at you. “I forgive you. I’m not mad at you at all. If anything I was worried about you.” You tell her and she looks at you in disbelief.

“You forgive me?” She asks softly and you nod. “But- but I hurt you and I wanted you to feel that way.” 

“True, you intended to hurt me and I was upset that you were making out with a girl, but your emotions were getting the best of you and you acted out to try and protect yourself and make yourself feel better.” You tell her and she looks down again. “Melissa, did Joe tell you it wasn’t ok to cry?” You ask her and she nods without looking at you. “It’s ok to cry, it’s part of being human and crying makes you feel better.”

“No, it’s not ok, it’s…” She chokes out and doesn’t finish the sentence.

“It’s what? What did he tell you?” 

“It means I’m too sensitive, too emotional and that it makes me look pathetic.” She says as more tears stream down her face.

“I can promise you right now that none of that is true.” You tell her and she looks at you. “You’re a strong independent woman, and maybe you’re a bit emotional right now but you just escaped hell. If you weren’t emotional then I’d be worried.” You tell her and you hear her sniffle as she tries to stop her crying. “Hey, you don’t have to stop, come here.” You tell her and she puts her plate down and she leans into your touch as you wrap your arms around her. 

As soon as you begin hugging her, it’s like a dam breaks and Melissa starts crying. She wraps her arms around you and just cries into your chest. She just keeps crying for a few minutes and then she starts slowing down and starts sniffing. You begin stroking her head and rub her back and you feel her hug you tighter. You reach over to the table in front of the couch and grab the box of tissue and you hand it to her. 

“Thank you.” She says, voice raspy from the crying as she grabs a tissue. 

“I’ll always be here to help you, Melissa.” You tell her and give her a kiss on the top of her head.

“How did I get so lucky with you?” 

“Well maybe the universe made sure I was born so that I could help you.” You tell her and she hums.

“I’m glad you were born.” She says.

“Me too.” You tell her and wrap your arms around her. “By the way, yesterday you mentioned something and I want to know if it’s true.” You say.

“What did I say?”

“You said that you told those 2 girls not to touch you when they took you home. Is that true?”

“Ya, I couldn’t go through with it. I mean how could I when all I thought about was you?” She says and you lean your head on top of her head. 

“That girl I went home with, I imagined you the entire time.” You tell her and she lifts her head up and looks at you. 

“I’m sorry that I’m not ready for anything. Right now I need something casual or one night or even friends.” She says and you cup her cheek.

“I understand.” You tell her and she looks into your eyes. “Maybe… maybe you'd be interested in casual dating.” You say to her.

“What’s casual dating?” 

“Well it’s two people that date but they’re not in a relationship, they don’t put a title on it. They can go on dates or have sex, but it’s not exclusive.” You explain.

“That does sound nice but I don’t really want to try dating apps or anything to find someone like that.” She says and looks down.

“Well maybe…we could.” You offer and she looks at you.

“Are you offering to be my casual date?” She asks and you nod. “Why?”

“Because we’re both attracted to each other but you’re not wanting to be in a relationship right now, so maybe we can explore some casual dating with each other.” You explain and she looks down as she thinks about it.

“Are you sure?” She asks and you nod.

“I’m sure.” You say and she sits up. 

“Well I guess that leaves one question then.” She says and you quirk your eyebrows. “Will you go on a date with me?” She asks and you smile before nodding.

“Yes I will.” You tell her and she smiles. 

“Is tonight good for you?” She asks you and you nod.

“I did everything yesterday so I got nothing going on today.” You say.

“Can you drive me to Barb’s house? I would like to get ready for this date.” She says and you look at your phone.

“It’s 9am, when do you want to go on this date?” You ask her.

“Noon?” She asks and you chuckle. 

“Ok, noon it is.” You confirm and then you drive her to Barb’s. “Hey Barb.” You tell her as you and Melissa walk through the door.

“Oh Melissa, are you ok?” She asks her.

“I’m alright, Y/n helped me yesterday and this morning. And I want to say I’m sorry for snapping at you and I hope you’re not mad at me.” She says to Barb.

“I was never mad at you, Melissa. I was so worried about you and I didn’t know what to do.” She says to Melissa and Melissa goes and hugs her. “Melissa, you’ve been my friend for 15 years, it’ll take a lot more than you snapping and slamming a door in my face to push me away.”

“Thank you, Barb.” She says and then turns to you. “I’ll see you in a few hours?” She asks you and you smile and nod.

“Am I picking you up or are you picking me up?”

“Hm, I’ll come pick you up.” She tells you and you nod.

“See you soon.” You say and then leave.

“So want to tell me what you guys are doing later?” Barb asks her.

“She told me about this thing called casual dating, where we date but we don’t have a relationship and we could still do physical things like kiss if we want.” She explains to Barb.

“So you two are dating then?”

“If today goes well then hopefully.” Melissa says with a smile before she goes upstairs to get ready.

Melissa pulls up a couple minutes after noon and knocks on your door. You open the door and Melissa's eyes widen and her brain freezes when she sees your outfit.

“Wow.” Melissa says breathlessly when she takes in your little red dress that gives her a view of your cleavage and bottom of your thighs. You blush at her compliment and then look at her outfit. 

“You look beautiful, Melissa, absolutely beautiful.” You tell her as you take in her outfit. She’s wearing the iconic leather pants and jacket and a very revealing and beautiful pink shirt. You also notice that she decided to have her hair in a ponytail and she did her makeup a bit differently.

“Thanks hon, are you ready?”

“Yep, where are we going?” You ask her.

“I thought of taking a walk in the park and stop by the ice cream shop and if you’re up for it, go to my room after.” She says and you quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Your room for what exactly? Talk? Make out? Sex?” You ask her.

“Any of those I wouldn’t mind to be honest.” She tells you and you playfully shove her as you walk past her and she giggles. 

Melissa drives you both to the park and you get out and have a stroll through it.

“So do you have any questions you want to ask, get to know me better?” Melissa asks you.

“Does this mean I have free range and will actually get answers?” You counter and she hums.

“Maybe, you won’t know unless you ask.” She says

“Alright, we can start easy, you said you have 8 siblings right?” You ask and she nods.

“Can’t believe you remember that but yes, 5 sisters and 3 brothers.” She tells you.

“And what are their names?” You ask her.

“Well there’s Kristen Marie, Marie, Marie Camille, Maria Christina, sister Toni, brother Tony, John Anthony and Seamus.” She says.

“Seamus? Why is his name so different from the others?”

“Different dad.” She tells you and you nod.

“Do you have a favourite sibling?”

“No, they’re all annoying.” She says but you can tell she loved all of them.

“Have you told any of them about your pending divorce?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“I’ll only tell them when I’m actually divorced.” She tells you.

“Don’t you think they might ask questions on Thanksgiving or even Christmas when Joe is not there?” You ask and she hums.

“I didn’t think about that.” Is all she says. “My family doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving but we do celebrate Christmas and it’s Marie’s turn this year to host the Christmas dinner.” She tells you.

“You said you were the oldest sibling, so shouldn’t they have some respect for you? So I’m sure they won’t mind that you’re getting a divorce.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“Hon, this is an Italian family. They can be old fashioned at times.”

“You said they’ll only take you out of the loop, but they’ll still be your family.” You tell her and she shrugs.

“I guess. Since you asked some family questions, I want to ask you some.” She tells you and you nod.

“Ask away.” You tell her and she goes and asks a few questions about your family as you both walk around the park. She finishes asking you questions and you notice the tire swing is free. “Come on.” You say and take her hand before leading her to the tire.

“Where are you taking me?” She asks while laughing.

“To the tire swing of course!” You say and tell her to get on.

“Hon, I’m too old for it.” She says and crosses her arms.

“Get on the damn tire.” You say and challenge her with your gaze. She sighs before she goes and gets on the tire. She gets on one side and rests her feet in the middle of the tire on the other side. You go underneath the tire and pop up in the middle of it, in between her legs.

“Well that’s a view.” She says and you roll your eyes playfully before you hold the rope of the tire and do a run and jump on the tire, with your legs in between hers, as it starts swinging you both. You see Melissa starts laughing as you both swing on it and you decide to do something extra. You stop the tire from swinging and stand back in the middle before you start spinning it around, twisting the rope. “What are you doing?” She asks and you smirk.

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t know if I want to find out as you’re smirking.” She says and you giggle. Once you’re satisfied you’ve twisted it enough, you do the run and jump again. Only this time it’s untwisting as it swings.

“Aaaahhh!” Melissa yells out before she starts laughing. “This is a lot of fun.” She says as you’re still swinging.

“I did this all the time as a kid.” You say.

“I don’t doubt that.” She says through giggles. When the swing stops, you stand in the middle again to get it to swing again but Melissa stops you by wrapping her legs around your waist and brings you closer to her.

“Careful Ms. Schemmenti, there’s kids around.” You tell with a flirty tone and she hums.

“How can I be careful when you’re in front of me, in between my legs?” She asks and you smile.

“You find it hot when I’m between your legs?” You ask her and she nods.

“Very much so.” She says and she leans forward for a kiss but you place a finger on her lips. “You’re stopping me again?” She asks after you remove your finger.

“Oh I’m going to kiss you but not in the middle of the playground.” You tell her and get out from the tire and go behind her and you grab the rope close to where her hands are and place your head on her shoulder. “Because when I start kissing you, I won’t want to stop.” You say and start spinning the tire, twisting the rope. Once you twist it quite a bit, you let go and watch as Melissa is spinning and laughing. Once it's done moving, she looks at you with a smile. 

“Help me get off of this thing.” She says and you hold your hand out for her and she takes it and gets off. “Thank you, that was a lot of fun.” She tells you and you move back on the sidewalk as some kids come to play on the tire.

“How about we go to the ice cream shop now?” You ask her and she nods and she holds your hand as you walk to the ice cream shop. You both enter the shop and look at all the different choices before you decide on chocolate.

“Of course you go with chocolate, you chocoholic.” She says and you wink at her before she orders. You go and get your card out but then you hear a beep and look to see that Melissa already tapped her card on the machine and paid for both.

“You’re sneaky.” You say and she smiles at you before she gets handed her ice cream. A few seconds later you get handed yours. “Thank you.” You tell the worker and then you both walk out of the shop and start walking and eating your ice cream. Melissa glances at you as you take a big lick of your ice cream and she can’t help her mind from going places. 

“Is there anything else that tongue is good at licking?” She asks and you look at her with a smirk. 

“There is one other thing that I have some experience with.” You tell her and she gets wet between the legs.

“Let’s walk back to my car, and maybe drive us back to Barb’s? She’s not home right now and she won’t be home until the evening.” She says and you both start walking to her car while eating your ice cream. 

You get back to her car just as you both finish eating and then you get in and she drives you both to her temporary home. You get out after putting her car in park and she lets you both in and you take her hand and lead her to the bedroom. You enter her room and close the door before you bring her to the bed and you both sit down on the side of the bed. You can tell she’s a bit nervous so you cup her cheek and get her to look at you.

“We don’t have to do anything.” You tell her.

“I want to do it with you but this time I’ll want to be touched.” She tells you and you hum.

“And not only will you be touched, you’ll have an orgasm or multiple ones.” You say and she blushes and looks away.

“It’s been awhile since that’s happened.” She says and you lean forward and kiss her. She wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you closer to her. She then leans forward and pushes you backward and you get on your back. While kissing her you take her leather jacket off and fling it across the room. She runs her hands all over her body before she holds your hands and moves your arms over your head. “Is there a zipper on the dress or do I just pull it off?” She asks and you smile.

“Just pull it off.” You say and help her as she pulls it off of you and she looks at your half naked body.

“God, you’re so sexy.” She says as she touches all over your body. You reach for the hem of her shirt and then you take it off and freeze when you see her boobs in a fantastic bra and you get a better look at them. “I think you’re obsessed with my tits.” She says.

“How could I not with how big they are?” You ask and she giggles before she gets on your lap and pulls you up in a seated position. She cups both your cheeks and kisses you before she trails her down and goes behind to unclip your bra. She flings it across the room without looking and touches all over your exposed stomach before she looks.

“You look so beautiful.” She says and you tuck a strand behind her ear and she leans into your touch.

“You’re so sweet. I want to see your body as well, are you ok with that?” You ask and she nods.

“Please.” She says and you immediately unclip her bra and take it off and your mouth waters at the sight. “Please touch them all you want, Joe barely touched them.” She says and you look at her in shock.

“He had access to these magnificent boobs and he barely touched them?” You ask and she nods. “He’s such a fucking idiot.” You say before you lean forward and put a nipple in your mouth. She gasps at the sensation and puts her hands in your hair so you don’t move. You pay attention to what gets the most noises out of her and repeat the movements that she likes the best. After you’re satisfied enough, you switch to the other one and do the same movements that she likes. She ends up pulling you off of her and gets you on your back and puts one of your nipples in her mouth. Pretty much anything she does will get sounds out of you and she’s enjoying pleasing you. When she finishes with both nipples she trails up to your neck and sucks on it. “Oh god, Melissa.” You gasp out and she smirks as she feels you rub your thighs together. She slowly peels your underwear off of you and sees how wet you are.

“You’re soaking.” She says and runs a finger through your folds and you moan and buck your hips.

“Please, I need you.” You beg and she smiles before she slips a finger inside of you and you gasp.

“You’re so wet and tight, you feel perfect.” She says as she starts pumping. She then adds another finger and you buck your hips before she pins you down with her free hand. She then curls her fingers inside of you and you see stars and she goes faster as well. She then trails her free hand down and circles your clit.

“Oh my god, don’t stop.” You say and she watches as you get closer and closer to an orgasm. You wrap your hands in her hair and tighten them as you’re at the edge. Melissa feels you clench around her fingers and your legs shake. You then let go and your orgasm rushes through you. “Oh my god.” You say as you catch your breath. You then wrap your arms around her waist and flip you both so you’re on top and she’s underneath you.

“Oof.” She says and then you kiss her and she moans into the kiss. You trail down to her neck and make sure to leave a couple hickeys on her neck. You then take off her leather pants and underwear and see how wet she is.

“You’re perfect.” You say and you see the blush that makes its way on her cheeks and you think she couldn’t look more beautiful. You kiss all over her chest as you play with a nipple and she’s moaning underneath you.

“Please, stick a finger inside of me.” She begs and how can you deny her anything? You trail a hand down and slip a finger inside her. “Oh my god, that feels so good.” She gasps out as you pump your finger inside of her. 

You then go down to her pussy and you kiss her clit before you start licking and sucking on her. She starts bucking her hips and you pin her down as you keep going. She puts her hands in your hair and moves her hands all over your hair as you keep giving her pleasure. Melissa then feels her orgasm start to build and she almost can’t believe it. It keeps getting stronger and stronger as she gets closer to her orgasm and she tightens her hold on your hair. 

“Oh god oh god! I’m so close!” She yells out before her orgasm washes all over her and she lets go of your hair.

“Do you want another one? I can give you two orgasms.” You offer and she chuckles.

“No, I’m good with just the one for now, come up here.” She tells you and you go lay beside her.

“How do you feel?” You ask her as she wraps an arm around you and pulls you to her body.

“I feel so good. I can’t even find the right words for how good I feel.” She says to you and you smile as you lay your head on her chest. “Thank you.” She tells you before she gives you a kiss on the top of your head.

“Anytime.” You tell her and wrap an arm around her waist and get comfortable. Melissa hums at the feeling and then she looks up at the ceiling and smiles.

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@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

@sasheemo

@midnight-lestrange

@dashbag-art

@morgananyx

@schmentisgf

@cblanchetts

@that-october-night

@schemmentigfs

@italianaidiota

@ambessas-doll

@ankhsta

@olderwomenenthusiast

@ackleybloodybridge

@angelcorner

@creaturesaphique

@cupldscntrl

@calliopetworld

@alwaysgoodnight

@yoyo-w

Let me know if you want to be added!

[yumeaoka-chan]

Butterflies

Long overdue fluff @the-kr8tor @pleaktale and @hyperfix-wip 💕 Def inspired by that ask from Bleaky to Katy way back🤭

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader x Hobie Brown/ Ekko x Reader x Spider-Punk! Hobie Brown

Word Count: 1.1k

Tags: fluff, flirting, kisses, no physical description of reader, title from Butterflies by Michael Jackson (phenomenal song btw😩💕), modern au (they're all in Hobie's universe, really)

“So, again, what's the occasion?” You ask as you lean against the small table that sits near the window of your shared flat, eyes roaming over the two men that shuffle around the tiny kitchen. Soft music plays on the speaker on the table and a delicious aroma wafts through the air. A smile flits across your face when hazel brown eyes meet your own.

“We can't cook for our girl just ‘cause we feel like it”, Ekko questions as he blows a stray white twist that had managed to slip from his ponytail out of his eyes, hands busy cutting up some garlic. Hobie hums beside him in agreement, tossing a bit of salt and cayenne pepper into the pan on the stove. The question makes you sigh and shake your head. Your two loves had been adamant on making you a nice home cooked meal once you came home today, having spent most of your day helping out a friend.

When you had walked through the doors of your shared flat, both men had grabbed your hands and sat you down at the table as they continued cooking dinner, much to your surprise. And when you tried to protest and help them with the food, they sat you back down with little kisses that had your heart fluttering in your chest, turning you to mush and effectively silencing your complaints. At least, for a little while.

“Just relax, love. We wanna spoil you.” Hobie pipes up as he looks over his shoulder to gaze at you with a smile on his pierced lips, russet brown eyes filled with warmth and almost shining a pretty honey color. The sight alone makes your stomach do little flips. “And by we, I meant me. ‘Ko just put himself in the equation, for some reason. ‘M thinkin’ he just wants to steal my idea…” Those words earn him a smack against the head with a dish towel, the punk chuckling at Ekko's scrunched up face of faux indignation before pecking his lips. That makes his expression falter, eyes softening as he shakes his head. Ekko comes up to you then, spoon holding a steaming sauce in hand.

“Taste”, he mumbles while lifting the utensil up to your lips, eyes watching you intensely as you obey. A hum of satisfaction leaves you as the taste floods your tongue, savory and buttery with a hint of spice.

“Oh, wow. That's really good…!” Lips quirking up into a small smile at your words, he places the spoon into the sink and goes to take Hobie's spot at the stove, the punk sliding over to wash the dishes that had accumulated. As much as you want to let them continue on unbothered, especially since they told you to relax and let them handle it, you couldn't help the strong urge in your gut that kept nagging at you to help. Even if all you did was just pass them seasonings. Fiddling with the silver ring on your finger that matches the ones they wear, you lift yourself away from the table and walk towards the kitchen counter in three quick strides. Just as you go to wash your hands to start helping, firm hands gently bracelet your wrists and another set of hands settle on your waist. A gasp escapes you as you're promptly lifted up and sat down on the counter top, Ekko smoothly setting the cooking materials and ingredients onto the table.

“Lovie”, Hobie's breathy voice murmurs against your ear as he slips himself into the space between your legs that dangle off of the counter. “Thought we said relax, hm…?” Long lashes grazing his cheeks, he looks down at you with a quirked eyebrow and fingers brushing softly underneath your chin, tilting your head up just a bit. Even when you sat on the counter, he was ridiculously tall, his other hand resting on the counter and effectively caging you. The way he's looking at you has your brain fumbling to catch up and you blink up at him a few times, making him chuckle.

“B-But, I want to help”, You stammer once your brain has finally regained its nonexistent footing, lashes fluttering at his close proximity. You can feel his cool breath fanning your heated cheeks.

“We know you do, sweetheart. Just sit here, yeah?” Hobie's hand underneath your chin slides up to cradle your face, thumb gently tracing the curve of your bottom lip before leaning in close, lips pressing softly against yours and making you swoon. He kisses you sweetly, little pecks that make your breath hitch and send your heart soaring. Once, twice, three times, before pecking your cheek and backing away all together. There are practical hearts swirling in his honeyed gaze as he looks at you with a dopey, lopsided grin on his face. The punk turns back towards the sizzling food just as Ekko taps your cheek, making your dazed attention focus on him.

There's a knowing smirk on his lips and a shine to his pretty hazel brown eyes as white twists slip and curtain his intense gaze. It's all you can do to not turn into a puddle right then and there as he takes the punk's previous spot between your thighs, arms on either side of you caging you in as he leans in close.

“My turn, bug”, he mumbles before leaning in to kiss along your jaw, sweet, tender kisses that tickle your skin as he trails his lips towards your own. A muffled hum leaves him once he captures them, gentle in the way his kiss renders you speechless. Your hands drift up to gently grip onto the front of the baggy crop top he's wearing that used to be one of Hobie's old band tees, leaning forward and pulling him closer for more. Your brain has ceased to work properly at this moment, with Ekko consuming all the thoughts you had left that weren't taken by Hobie. A soft chuckle escapes him as he pecks your lips once more, then places one on your cheek, nose, and forehead, before leaning back a bit. Gaze swimming with warmth and sparkling affection, hearts swirling in his eyes. “Just what I needed, trouble. Thank you. Just sit right here for us.”

Ekko's words don't fully register until he slowly backs away, going back to help Hobie with the rest of the food. Blinking away the fog caused by your two loves, you raise an eyebrow at them in question, legs still dangling on the counter.

“Wait. How am I supposed to help you guys by sitting here?” Hobie chuckles at your confusion as Ekko tilts his head, a cheeky shine to his eyes.

“Just sit there lookin’ pretty for us, mama. That's all we need.” If you weren't a puddle of goo before, you definitely were now.

[veliseraptor]

top 5 fic recs? any fandom

five? any fandom? anon I have 1,065 fics in my bookmarks on ao3, which doesn't include in progress works that I'm really enjoying, and while some of those are for fandoms I'm no longer in it's like. that's a lot of fic to try to pick five from.

but I guess if I say "five completed single fics on the longer side (i.e. not a series)" then that narrows it down a little at least. and I'm still like. but what about everyone I'm leaving out.

so consider this a top frive fics that's in no way definitive.

Hard Mouth by road_rhythm.

There's something in Caleb's dreams. It wants him to know that he's not alone. It wants him to know that he'll never be alone again. Elves don't dream, so all Essek can do is watch.

It's been a minute since I read this one but it's a remarkable piece of work. It's Shadowgast canon divergence from late in Campaign 2, featuring Caleb suffering a whole lot and one of the best action scenes I've read in a fic, ever. Knotty and plotty and compelling.

Bargaining by @proantagonista

Faced with an eternity without his brother, Loki strikes a bargain to change the past. Post TDW.

I feel like the fact that this is MCU and I still had to put it on here speaks for itself, a little bit. This fic is possibly the best one I read in the MCU fandom, in terms of craft and also how much it made me feel; the slow build and arc of the plot makes a thing of beauty. One of the Loki fics I read that just lives in my head.

The Shadow That Remains of You by tenddisorder

After failing for years to restore life to Xiao Xingchen, Xue Yang decides to take a different approach to the problem. It goes almost entirely to plan.

Given the premise of this one (SongXueXiao travel back in time to dinosaur country) I would've been skeptical, but I think it was recced to me compellingly enough that I gave it a go and boy was I rewarded for that decision. Turns out that concept is a perfect way of basically isolating all three of these characters from everything else while they work out their shit. And there's some truly choice whump in there, too.

Under the Wheel by @silvysartfulness

Some few lucky times, the only thing you need to fix your horrible shared tragedy is a single heartfelt wish and a second chance to get things right. Or two. Or three. Or- okay, it's a bit of a work in progress. Song Lan spends centuries searching for a way to go back to a time before all horrors, undo all hurt and give him and Xiao Xingchen another chance at happiness. It could have gone according to plan.

Admittedly this one was written for me so that probably informs this decision a little, but it really is tailor-made for my specific wants and pleasures and it really pays off. Several of my favorite concepts combined (time travel, time loops, multiple people having conflicting goals having to work together) into a delightful piece of work. (As far as Silvy's work, The only reason Heaven Has a Road didn't make this list instead is because it's not complete yet.)

til my feet are memory by @curiosity-killed

The first time he meets Crimson Rain Sought Flower, Mu Qing barely makes it out alive. He throws himself, claws, crawls his way back to the heavenly court with his soul half out of his body, his limbs shredded and heart fluttering weakly as it weeps blood into the floor of his palace.

I waffled a little on the final one for this list - there were a couple VegasPete possibilities and an FMA fic that almost made it on, and I considered just having this list be a top seven instead of a top five) but ultimately I decided on this one partly because I am obsessed with this pairing, there's very little fic for it with the dynamic I prefer, and the execution in this fic is everything I want from it. In general this author does excellent work just...across the board, but this is possibly my personal favorite, at least of the works on the longer side.

so there's five. but like. I'm serious about that 1,065 bookmarks, all of which I rec to one degree or another. this is just a selection.

[oswaldthatendswald]

I did not expect to still be thinking about this, but actually now I'm thinking about it more than I was originally. A kind soul replied to inform me that "joker" is actually still used to refer to that card in Spanish, which should perhaps have cut the whole theory off at the ankles, but instead got me thinking about whether there's any other evidence that the codenames predate Doflamingo.

I'll skip the three hours I spent trying to track down every single panel focusing on Trebol: there's not really any evidence. But at this point, my loose collection of headcanons put on a trenchcoat and started impersonating an actual story.

Trebol's an interesting guy, albeit one I don't think about that much because I Don't Like Him. Preemptively, I'm going to tell you that I don't ascribe to the theory that he's the master manipulator behind all of Doflamingo's actions. I think he definitely enables Doflamingo's fall from "shitty little kid" to "homicidal Machiavellian murder demon," but I don't think that he somehow convinced Doflamingo to go down that route. Partly because that theory seems mostly designed to reduce Doflamingo's responsibility for his own actions (and as much as I like Doflamingo, I like him best as a villain), and mostly because I think it cheapens Doflamingo's own power as a character.

What Trebol does do is target Doflamingo when he is quite young, (functionally) alone, likely terrified, and definitely furious. He validates Doflamingo's rage and nascent grudge, gives him multiple weapons (a gun AND a Devil Fruit, Trebol? Really? He's TEN), and encourages him to go kill people.

(Crucially, we never see him suggest that Doflamingo kill his father. If we had, I would absolutely be arguing that Trebol is the real power on the crew, because that would be intentionally inciting the removal of the only authoritative adult in Doffy's life, and that would reek of manipulation. However, I've mentioned elsewhere that what isn't shown in a story can be as important as what is, and so I think it's key to understanding Trebol to highlight that he only suggests that Doflamingo kill anyone he wants and get his revenge.)

Having given a TEN YEAR OLD a gun and a Devil Fruit, Trebol looses the little shit on the world to do what he will. Doflamingo then kills his father, takes his head back to Mariejois, and upon being kicked out, returns to Trebol. He is then immediately crowned god-king of their little group and goes on to lead them to spectacular heights of infamy.

Trebol is deeply weird, to the point that I think he sets off everyone's "shit is up with this man" sensors. How does he know so much about Devil Fruits? And Haki? Why does he seem to worship the Celestial Dragons? .....I don't have answers for those questions. I do have an idea as to what's going on with his manipulation (?) of Doflamingo, and that idea is this: I think Trebol's done this before.

So, okay. Bear with me as we careen wildly off the path of canon and into the weeds of fanfiction. Trebol has information about Haki and Devil Fruits both, and in the world of One Piece-- especially outside the Grandline-- that's valuable. Powerful, even. Like everyone else with a taste of power, Trebol wants more. He has his own Devil Fruit, but one man can only be so strong out here. He needs a crew.

Personally, I think Pica was first. Physically formidable, but with a voice that was nothing but a source of mockery. Easy to flatter and bribe with promises of strength beyond physical-- power to crush anyone who tried to make him the butt of the joke ever again. Literally.

With Diamante, I can't help but think that the Devil Fruit must have come before the man. Trebol was looking for someone who could use the Fruit to its greatest effect, and a swordsman seemed tailor-made. With Pica to offer an illustration of how utterly devastating a Fruit can be, Diamante would have been a fool to say no.

Then Vergo, not for a Devil Fruit, but for his Haki. Rare enough to find a Haki user in the North Blue; what a stroke of luck to find one who was young, alone, and unallied with any crew. Self-taught Armament; a prodigy. There was no need to find Vergo a Devil Fruit. Besides, you need someone who can swim on a crew of anchors.

But on a nowhere island, a midpoint stop, Trebol heard of an impossibility. Celestial Dragons? Here?

It was better than he could have hoped. A god just barely fledging, furious with the world. King's Haki, but he needed more for his revenge. And oh, Trebol could give it to him. Whatever power he bestowed on Doflamingo, it would be returned tenfold, he was certain.

The boy-god left with his father's head for Mariejois and had to break back out when they refused to return him to his rightful place. That's alright. Trebol's crew welcomed him with open arms. Their wildcard and leader. Defend him long enough for him to grow up, and he'd show them the top of the world.

The funny thing is, I think Trebol really believes it when he tells Law that the Executives are all equal to Doffy. He put the crown on the king, so surely he gets a piece of it, right? But by the time Doflamingo was old enough to use Trebol's old tricks on Law, he was already their uncontested leader. By the time he's a Warlord? King of Dressrosa? Law's right: Trebol is nothing more than another puppet.

All this story is given to us in the span of one chapter. The idea that Trebol is somehow responsible for the rise of the Heavenly Demon comes from his own mouth, and Law is quick to point out the reality only a few pages later. For all that Trebol seems to have intended for Doflamingo's power to benefit him, the reality seems to be quite the opposite.

I know it makes more sense to assume that the card suit codenames (Trebol, Corazon, Diamante, Pica) come from Doflamingo due to the whole Spanish thing, but against all logic I've always headcanoned that they actually predate Doflamingo. I chose to believe that they're actually Trebol's invention to make his little gang/cult more cohesive, and Doflamingo just really latched on to that theme. My only evidence for this is that his own codename, "Joker," is in English, which to me makes it feel like a tacked-on addition by a kid who didn't quite understand the theme they were going for, and my only excuse is that I think this is funny.

[flyingspicerack]

im cooking something

[wayfinderships]

The Snow yearning is so strong tonight

[kkeke99]

Enough time has passed now, so I can finally say with certainty that the only good MLs of the Jewelpet Series are Akira Nanase and Retsu Akagi 👍🏻

[lamefish]

kento nanami is an anniversary man. nsfw

you think it's sweet, how he has the date of big events in his life on memory. when it's a loss, he'll take the day off to remember, with his head in your lap as he tells stories of whomever has passed. you listen intently, ask questions about them and watch as your husband recounts every good thing about a person.

he celebrates the good, too. almost excessively. the date you met is circled on the calendar, and kento will wake you up with breakfast in bed and a day of doting to show you just how important this anniversary is to him. you turned his world upside down in the best of ways, and what kind of man is he if not one to celebrate the light in his life?

of course, your wedding anniversary too. it's the one he goes all out for: more often than not you put a weekend aside to take a trip and spend some uninterrupted time together. you'll act as newlyweds again, because you still feel like newlyweds despite the passing years, and you'll be reminded over and over just how lucky you are to have found your soulmate in a man like kento nanami.

a man who is sentimental, and so very in love with you. and also celebrates the first time you had sex.

that first year, he had spent the day doting on you so profusely that you were convinced he was going to propose. he was pulling out all of the stops, taking you out fopr an expensive meal, dosing you with fine wines and so many kisses you could get drunk off the taste of him alone. he took you home, ran you a scented bath and took care of the house while you relaxed.

and of course the night ended in mind blowing sex—as your nights usually do. he had insisted on fucking you in missionary despite his recent penchant for taking you from behind and, once he has ripped two orgasms from you and was working on your third, he let it slip.

“we made love for the first time a year ago today,” he whispers against your lips, cock pulsing inside of you as he reaches deep inside of you. “just like this—looking into each others eyes, three orgasms from you, two from me. fell in love with you that night, do you know that honey?”

“you kept track of the day?” you cant finish your sentence without a moan breaking from your throat. “kento, you’re something else.”

“of course i did. it’s an important date, reaching such intimacies—feeling these beautiful velvet walls of yours for the first time… i’ll never forget it.”

you laugh, though it’s quickly swallowed by a kiss from your lover. he rocks his hips into you, feels every inch of his veiny cock disappear inside. he looks down to watch himself sink into you, though his gaze his brought back when you speak.

“three.”

kento blinks. “three what?”

“orgasms from you. you said you had two, but you came a third time right at the end—i milked you dry and you were so sex-drunk and exhausted but you insisted on making me food.” you reach down and grab his hand, the one that had been cupping at your chest, and hold it up for him to see the gentle scar that runs across his thumb. “you cut yourself slicing the bread because i fucked you mindless.”

it comes back to him in gentle flashes. you had, in fact, milked him of a third release. he had just been so out of his mind with nerves and pleasure that the memory had washed itself clean from his mind. he scolds himself mentally for ever daring to forget a detail about being intimate with you, but smiles.

“i remember,” he says. “you told me sex made you hungry so i wanted to incorporate it into your aftercare…”

“silly man,” you wrap your legs around his waist and lick your ankles behind him. with a gentle nudge, he’s forced that tiny bit deeper inside of you. “my silly man.”

kento moans—his eyes flutter shut and his lips catch between his teeth. he adores you—he really does. so much so that the sheer memory of his first time with you is quickly becoming too powerful of a memory to have.

and you, his beautiful other half, laid beneath him with lustful eyes and parted lips, smile up at him. “are we recreating our first time, ken? is that what this is?”

he nods, a little wordless as he tries to keep his mind straight.

“then i think you know what i’m going to do to you, my love.”

he smiles. “milk me for all i have. it’s all yours anyways.”

you lean up and kiss him. it’s slow, gentle, like your first kiss with him was. you taste him wholly on your lips and thank all the divine beings that may exist for putting such a man in your life’s trajectory. his cock twitches inside of you, he fills you out so perfectly.

still, you smile as you roll your hips up to meet his. “just let me handle the aftercare this time.”

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Seeing ghosts in Gotham

He’s walking alone. Despite how dark it is, he’s not particularly nervous, not like the couple of people hovering in an alley.

His shift at Batburger went a little long, not that he’s complaining, he needed the money.

Everything is fine. Splendid. Fantastic. A little quiet, enough to pretend it’s a nice stroll home like it was back in Amity. Of course that all kind of goes up in flames when a dark figure drops into a crouch right in front of him. About two arm lengths away is a guy who straightens to a little taller than Danny himself. From the flickering street light across the street he can spot red, crisscross yellow, and a dark cape.

Red Robin.

Danny shakes his head and turns around.

“Nope.”

A smaller body is already standing behind him, blocking his path. The little guy with a serious face folds his arms across his chest as if challenging Danny to try to get by him.

He’s had enough tussles with Danielle to know better than to test the kid.

Danny rubs at his eyes with a hand, purposefully keeping the other limp at his side. He turns back around.

“Okay. Fine. What? What do you want?”

“You sent in a folder of information to solve the Boothe case,” Red Robin states confidently like there wasn’t any doubt it was Danny who sent it in.

He frowns. It was sent in anonymously. As in they shouldn’t be able to know it was him. Then again they are detectives in their own right even if they dress weird.

“See? This is why no one helps out the police if they’re gonna get grilled for it later on,” he complains sourly.

“That case is connected to another string of crimes we’ve been investigating. I need to know where you got your information.”

Danny glares at him for a second, actually thinking about telling him, then he remembers how quickly these guys throw people into Arkham.

“Do you not get what anonymous means?”

“What is your source?” He asks, completely ignoring Danny’s concerns.

“What are gonna do? Dangle me over the side of a building to get me to talk like you do with the criminals you guys pick up? Go ahead. See where that gets you,” he shrugs indifferently.

“You’re a runaway.”

Danny’s eyes widen in surprise before narrowing into a warning as he turns to look at the pipsqueak that spoke.

“From your poorly made fake ID and the fact you don’t look close to eighteen, you must be a runaway minor. We could bring you in to the proper authorities if you prove to be… uncooperative.”

Danny sneers in annoyance.

“Seriously?” He turns back to Red Robin. Clearly the older of the two and the one leading this investigation. “This is what I get for trying to help? Blackmail?”

“Robin can be a bit… abrasive. I, on the other hand, can appreciate a different approach.”

Suddenly there’s a couple pieces of paper money in between his fingers. Danny couldn’t see how much it was from this far away, but it didn’t really change how he felt about the whole situation.

“Now bribery? Wow, you guys really got the whole good cop, bad cop thing down, don’t cha?”

“Then what do you want?”

“For you to stop wasting your time,” Danny answers with a snap.

Red Robin pauses.

“Our time,” he repeats calmly.

“Yea. Your time. This is a dead end and you should move on.”

“And why are you a dead end?” Presses Robin.

“Because,” Danny emphasizes with a look over his shoulder, “the guy you’re really looking for, my source as you put it, is dead, okay? So you can’t go ask him questions. I sent in everything that was relevant. Find another lead.”

Red Robin’s expression remains blank as he mentally calculates his next move. Danny hopes he takes his advice and let him go home.

“His name?”

Danny folds his arms over his chest, a pathetic attempt to protect himself. He chews on his lip a minute. To tell him or not to tell him. It’s not really ratting the guy out since he’s, you know, dead. Although there is a large chance Danny’s missing something and it’s all going to lead back to him somehow.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“I never said you did,” the vigilante replies calmly, almost nonchalant.

Danny shifts his weight with nerves. He really wasn’t getting out of this without giving them something, huh?

“Greg,” he grinds out like it’s painful.

Silence for a few moments, then-

“As in Gregory Boothe?”

The victim of this whole conversation? Yes.

Danny’s silence is answer enough and the diverted gaze just solidified their suspicions.

“Gregory Boothe’s body turned up a month ago. Presumably he’d been dead for several weeks before that.”

Red lets that damning information hang in the air like Danny didn’t already know.

“So when did he talk to you? Last week?”

Danny jerks at the off handed joke, actually taking a step back and hitching his shoulders up to his ears. He grimaces at his knee jerk response, but can’t take it back. A glance toward the vigilante shows a calculating stunned expression from what he can see ignoring the mask. He looks away again finding a discarded soda can very interesting.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Demands Robin behind him.

Danny tried to resist the urge to curl even more into himself, but knows he failed without even having to look.

“You’re a medium,” Red Robin states. It’s not even a question.

Danny flinches and shoots the guy a scared glare.

“I am not one of those scam artists,” he hisses firmly.

“No,” Red agrees, “you’re not. You didn’t ask for money or attention.”

Danny stares like it’s his first time seeing him. The lack of aggression or accusations was new and a little disarming. He was genuinely confused as to why the guy wasn’t immediately going to denial or throwing him in Arkham.

“Hell of a city to hide in when you can see ghosts,” Red Robin says in a light tone like he was teasing him. The small tug to his lips just proves it.

Danny’s shoulders practically sag at the playful demeanor. A hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Yea, well… no one was gonna look for me here.”

Which was only half the reason he chose Gotham, but it was still truthful.

“So… Greg?”

“Isn’t here right now.” Danny pauses and snorts at himself. “Please leave a message.”

The vigilante does have a sense of humor because he smirks in response to the joke.

“Is there another way to… make contact? Summoning maybe?”

Danny raises an eyebrow incredulously.

“Summoning is rude,” he says like it’s common sense.

Instead he turns to the nearest reliable ghost in the vicinity.

“Hey, Susan, can you go-“

The vigilantes can’t hear how she interrupts him because she was standing there the whole time and knows exactly what he was going to ask.

“Okay, thanks. Meet at mine.”

The ghost woman nods and flies off to go hunt down dear old Greg and Danny turns to Red Robin. He makes a casual move with his head to say ‘follow me’ and continues walking down the sidewalk past the guy and further into the old, decrepit buildings he’s been squatting in.

They already know he’s a runaway, being homeless shouldn’t come as a shock to them. Even with his two jobs, he can’t afford to rent an apartment. No wonder so many people are in poverty or in the slums.

He ducks into his rundown building, ignoring the rats scurrying away, and hops up the rickety stairs, avoiding the ones that were unstable. It was a nightmare figuring out which steps were faulty. Lots of injuries.

At the top he turns to see Red easily copying his movements up the stairs while Robin balances along the railing like a tight rope. When they reach the top at the same time Danny just stares at them for a moment before shaking his head in exasperation. Darn vigilantes. Why did Danny have to get caught up in this mess?

He turns, walking along the floor closest to the wall before getting to what he’s deemed his room.

It used to be an office from what he can tell. A desk pushed against the far wall and a ripped sofa he’s been using as a bed on the other wall. The floors were the most stable in this room which really won out.

Danny goes to the desk where all his papers are scattered over the surface. An organizational pattern only he understands as he shuffles through the pile he pulls from the cubby above the desk. It holds all the same information he sent into the police, just in its raw form with about twice the amount of useless information. Along with it is a few other ‘cases’ that sounds familiar that he just threw together into a pile. Maybe the genius detectives could decipher what he couldn’t.

“Here,” he says, holding out the stack. Red Robin doesn’t hesitate to take it off his hands.

There’s no chair for the desk anymore so he slides some papers out of the way to hop onto the desk to wait.

“No.”

The vigilantes look at him and he shakes his head and looks over to the side.

“No, Abby. I’m not wasting their time.”

Red Robin goes back to flipping through papers. Most of them were old business papers he had found in the office and just written on the back. Some were receipts or pamphlets or some other random scrap of paper he could get his hands on.

“Because yours was an accident. There’s nothing for them to solve.”

Robin watched him cautiously as if waiting for Danny to snap or suddenly turn violent. Instead he leans back on his hands in a vulnerable position which screamed ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone’.

“There is a lot more information here than what was submitted to the police,” Red Robin comments neutrally, purposefully ignoring Danny’s exasperated sigh and one-sided conversation.

Danny shrugs in defense, “Didn’t think all of it was relevant.”

The vigilante doesn’t respond.

Robin drifts closer as Danny gives a withering glare to the corner. He examines the mess of papers surrounding the teen in the low lighting.

“Are these all files of victims?”

Danny glances over them with a knowledgeable eye.

“Most.” He twists to point at the top left corner of the cubbies. “Those are accidents though… well, what sounds like accidents.”

“There should be more.”

Danny looks at the boy with a tilted head and raises brow.

“Not everyone sticks around,” he explains simply.

Then something draws his attention away across the room. Surprisingly his eyes don’t glaze over like someone with mental illness, instead they sharpen to see something they can’t. It resembled Constantine or Thomas.

“Greg, these guys wanna talk to you.”

What proceeds is a very awkward interaction with Danny as a middle man between victim and vigilante. Despite the need for a translator, Red Robin does in fact get a lead from the conversation.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Danny nods. “Sure, no problem. Just don’t rat me out to the police and I can help with any other case that pops up with a ghost attached.”

“You know we can help with your living situation,” Red Robin offers with a glance around the room.

“What, and put me in foster care? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“There are other options,” Robin chimes in with nonchalance that implies he doesn’t actually care.

“You don’t pass for eighteen, but if you let me make you a new ID we could say you’re emancipated.”

Danny frowns.

“I’d have to be sixteen to be eligible for emancipation.”

“You could be sixteen.”

No, he really couldn’t. Maybe if you squint your eyes and tilt your head, but Danny is fourteen with all the baby fat and innocent face that comes with it. His license now is a clear fake to anyone who sees it, but in this city no one’s gonna question it to his face. They just raise a brow, look at him, then shrug it off and roll with the lie.

“What do you want?” He demands. All this good will and wanting to help him can’t be free.

“We want to help,” Red says too easily.

Danny stares for a second, eyes narrowed as he tries to block out the multiple voices around him.

Insurance. He wants Danny to owe him so he can keep coming back for more information.

“I just told you I would help. Why are you still trying to get leverage?” He demands with irritation.

“We want to help-“

“You want me in your back pocket.”

Red Robin doesn’t give that a response, his lips pressing together to make a hard line.

Instead of pushing, he surprisingly takes a step back and heads towards the door, papers still in hand. Danny doesn’t argue.

Robin ducks out first, blending into the shadows without even a glance over his shoulder. Red Robin pauses in the doorway.

“Don’t try to skip town,” he states like an order. Like if Danny did in fact try, he would be found and brought back.

It didn’t even cross Danny’s mind.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says tiredly, too fed up with the day to defend himself.

Red Robin watches him for a moment before nodding and disappearing out the room.

Danny slumps with a groan, finally sliding off the desk to shuffle to the couch, body flopping face first into the worn cushions.

It’s silent to everyone else but Danny.

“I know.”

…

“I know, Jack, but I don’t trust them. Even if he is your son.”

Danny never noticed the bug planted by Robin on the underside of the desk.

[bi-writes]

Thinking about going into labor while your partner is on the way somewhere unimportant, who refuses to come home to help you. And instead of being alone and scared, you hang up and call up one of your childhood friends everyone thought you'd wind up with. Kyle shows up at your door, furious but does his best to hide it, and helps you through it all. Next day the father of your child has the audacity to show up like nothing is wrong to see Kyle holding your baby so you can take a well deserved nap.

he picks up on the third ring. you tremble, gripping the edge of the porcelain tub. when you finally hear his voice, just the sound of him soothes your beating heart, just a little.

"'ello, love."

"kyle?" you sniffle. his background quiets a bit. you hear a door close, and then he's a bit louder.

"hey, love. what's wrong? you sound upset."

"my water broke," you hiccup. "a-and i...i was in the bath...i-i..." you close your eyes. "i can't get out of the tub."

"jesus fucking christ." you whimper, but kyle just hums. "not you, baby. hey, you just relax, alright? you said you were in the bath. just relax, and i'll be there soon."

"kyle--"

"don't be scared," kyle chuckles, and you whine a little. "hey, you're gonna have a baby. you've been waiting for this, yeah? haven't you?"

"y-yeah..."

"aren't you excited? you always tell me how much you can't wait, right?"

"yeah..."

"don't be scared," kyle repeats. "you just relax. be happy. she's coming today!"

you smile, wiping your face a little, and when kyle hears your giggle, he sighs.

"good girl. you sit tight."

so you do. you lean against the side of the tub, and you rest in the warm water as you stare at your phone screen.

he won't answer the phone. he hasn't read your texts. he's not coming.

you hear the front door open and close, and then there's a gentle knock on the bathroom door. when kyle comes in, you try to cover up, moving your hands over your tits, embarrassed, but kyle just goes to look for a clean towel to help you out.

"it's okay, love, i won't look," kyle tells you. he smiles at you, cupping your face gently, and you look into his dark eyes. "you look so pretty. you're glowin', y'know that?" you smile through gentle tears, putting a hand over your belly, and you try to move, but it's no use. kyle drops the towel, kneeling, and you shake your head.

"i-i can't get out--" you gasp, and kyle rolls up his sleeves over his thick forearms, putting the towel over his shoulder before he reaches for you.

"it's alright. i'll get you out. i'll try not to look, okay?"

"i'm so embarrassed...i'm so sorry, kyle..." you sniffle.

"don't apologize, love. i got it. give me your hands, put 'em around me."

you lift up your wet arms, wrapping them around his neck. you press your chest against his, and he picks you up as you stand, helping you to your feet. as you cup your belly, he wraps the towel around you, covering you, and then he holds your hand as you step out of the tub.

"alright. now where's your bag, darling?"

kyle grabs your bag and supplies as you get dressed in your room. as you pull your socks on, kyle comes up behind you, smoothing your hair down your back before he starts to braid it. he used to braid your hair all the time when you were kids--he always said he wanted to practice for his sisters.

"you got the car seat, kyle?" you ask as he holds your hand, and he nods.

"mhm. in the car already."

"a-and the diaper bag?"

"in the boot."

"my extra clothes? and my...my stuff?"

"mhm. i got it, love. and whatever you forgot, i'll get it for you. alright, up, buckle in, that's a girl."

he holds your hand the entire way. you groan softly when a particularly painful contraction hits you, but when you squeeze kyle's hand, all he does is squeeze back. you take deep breaths, leaning your head back, and he hums.

"you're doing so well, love. so well."

"why..." your eyes water. you squeeze his hand again, and when you look down, your vision is blurry from your tears. "why didn't he answer? w-why...why doesn't he...w-why would he..."

"don't worry your pretty head about tha', love," kyle interrupts you gently. "only thing you need to worry about is you and her. i got it."

"o-okay."

she's beautiful. she looks more like you than her father, and kyle counts that blessing. she's got your eyes, your nose, your hair. her cheeks belong to her father, but she might as well be your twin, and when kyle takes her from you later that night, rocking her gently, he can really see up close how much she looks like you.

in the middle of the night, kyle holds your hand as you get up to go to the bathroom. your entire body is tender and sluggish, but kyle keeps you upright as you walk, kissing your head gently as he helps you take a seat on the toilet.

he even gets your underwear set up for you, with the big pad and everything, and he helps you step into it and slips them up and over your hips. you're a tearful mess as he does this, but kyle just presses his forehead against yours.

the look in his eyes, you will never forget it. the intensity. the commitment. the stability. every time you pick up the phone, kyle answers, and sometimes he's thousands of miles away. your own boyfriend can't even have the decency to answer when you're nine months pregnant--what did he fucking think the call was going to be about?

back in your room, kyle fits into the bed with you. he lets your rest your head on his chest, and when you ask him if he's going to go home, he tells you this is close enough.

in the morning, kyle's sitting outside your room with the baby. he's holding her, touching her little nose, letting you sleep in. you had a rough night, and when he found you still with your eyes closed that morning, he figured he would let you keep sleeping, just for an extra hour or so.

you deserve it.

"is that her?"

kyle's head turns with a snap. standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, is your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. not man enough to answer the phone when you most needed him, not strong enough to do the right thing and marry you, and not wise enough to realize all he had to do was take care of you, and the world would be right again. you're not greedy. you don't ask for anything. all you want is to love and be loved, and kyle doesn't think that's too much to ask for, kyle thinks you're one of the most selfless women he's ever known, so why does this fucking bastard of a man get to call himself this girl's father?

kyle looks back down, fixing the blanket over your daughter's neck carefully. he thinks he did pretty good swaddling her this time, but you might have an opinion on it.

"i'm gonna say somethin', mate," kyle says lowly. "'n after i say it, y'r gonna do some thinking, real thinking."

he laughs a little, shaking his head.

"why don't you give me my baby, and get the fuck outta 'ere?"

kyle looks up and snickers, shaking his head. he gets a better grip on your daughter, sitting back, and he fixes your ex with a sinister smile.

"and what if i don't? you gonna take her from me?" kyle chuckles. "i'd love to see you try."

he stands, raising a brow.

"listen here, and listen close." kyle takes a step closer to him. "you're a right pile of shit comin' here thinking that you can just waltz right in and be daddy of the year, alright? what kind of man are you, eh? your girl in need, callin' you, and you don't even have the fuckin' balls to answer her? take a good look at your kid, mate, cause it's the last time you're ever gonna see her."

"no, i have the right--"

"to fuck right off," kyle snaps. "if i see you near her or her daughter ever again, i'll find you, and i'll make it worth your while, mate. make you feel real sorry finally, y'hear me? 'n when i take her back home, all of your junk better be out the flat. otherwise, i'll fucking burn it."

"kyle?"

your voice pulls him away. kyle adjusts the baby in his arm, going back inside, and he shuts the door behind him, finding your eyes. you reach for the baby, arms outstretched, and kyle easily sets her down in them, watching as you cradle the tiny thing into the crook of your neck and stroke the back of her neck.

the nurses come in and drop off a few papers. one stops, looking at kyle, giving him a big smile.

"congratulations," she tells him, and he smiles back at her. she takes a seat next to him, holding out a clipboard. "do you think i could get a few details? i just need to know mum's name, baby's name--"

kyle gives it to her. your birthplace. your birthday. your name. your baby's name. then she flips a paper over, putting her pen down.

"and dad's name?" she asks.

kyle sighs, leaning back in his chair. they don't give out birth certificates right away. you have to request it. you won't find out, not just yet, maybe he'll even pick it up for you. you'll be much too busy being mummy dearest.

"kyle," he tells her, flashing her that big smile. she blushes a little, writing it down. "kyle garrick."

he looks back at where you are, your eyes on him. you smile shyly when your eyes meet, and kyle leaves the nurse to come up to you and drape a hand behind your head. he strokes along your hair gently, thumbing at your temple.

"i heard you outside, kyle."

"did you?"

"and i heard you just now."

"mm."

you blink, reaching for the edge of his shirt, and you pull him down, further, until his face is nearly against yours.

"i guess i shouldn't be surprised," you say softly, reaching up to smooth a a few knuckles down his cheek. he leans into it, licking his lips, and you bite your lip. "you've always had a habit of...taking what doesn't belong to you, huh?"

kyle laughs. always the pretty boy, ever since you were little. one smile from him--kyle could get away with anything. anything at all.

"who says you don't belong to me?"

[cold-kitty]

Due to very, very high demand for part two of my Yan!Mermaid (looks at my notifications and cries), here it is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Contains: NSFW, dub-con, same warnings as the last one other than that

Yan!Mermaid who starts clinging to your leg as you sigh, so happy that you're giving him another chance.

Yan!Mermaid who watches your hand signals and listens to your foreign words, not understanding a thing but tries to listen for your sake.

Yan!Mermaid who forces himself not to straddle you when he sits next to you, his tail swaying slowly behind him.

Yan!Mermaid who watches you fish all day, just enjoying your presence.

Yan!Mermaid who pouts and whines and clings to you when you try to leave. no no no no no! don't leave! i don't wanna be alone! stay with me, i promise to keep you warm!

Yan!Mermaid who tries to climb into the trunk of your car, and somehow manages.

Yan!Mermaid who happily slides out of your truck when you arrive home, smiling wide.

Yan!Mermaid who's surprised when you don't seem happy too. you look mad, but you suck it up and groan.

Yan!Mermaid who doesn't like how you put him in a tank with the fish you caught, he wants to sleep in your bed!

Yan!Mermaid who climbs out of the tank when you're asleep and crawls across the floor to your room, curling up in bed with you.

Yan!Mermaid who lets his mind wander to when he was grinding against you, how good it felt. y-your skin is so w-warm and soft... a-ah...

Yan!Mermaid who is immediately worked up again, pressing himself against you tight.

Yan!Mermaid who lets his hands greedily trail over you, gently squeezing your thighs and watching the flesh bounce back into place.

Yan!Mermaid who hesitantly pulls down your pants. he promises himself that he's just looking, but he can't resist the temptation. s-so pretty...

Yan!Mermaid who starts by squishing the flesh of your ass, watching it jiggle. he continues to do that for a while, almost mesmerized. he loves watching you squirm in your sleep too.

Yan!Mermaid who sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them and getting them wet.

Yan!Mermaid who starts by pushing one finger into you, slowly so he doesn't hurt you. he watches how your unconscious body squirms and reacts to the intrusion.

Yan!Mermaid who slowly pushes another finger into you, but that wakes you up. you look behind you almost immediately, a horrified look on your face.

Yan!Mermaid who expects you to hurt him, staring at you with wide and fearful eyes. he starts moving his fingers nonetheless, hoping that it might calm you down, twisting and curling them with slight hesitation. oh please don't hate me! you're just so irresistible!

Yan!Mermaid who watches as your body starts to quiver softly, your head falling back into the pillow. you were giving up to the pleasure, even if reluctantly.

Yan!Mermaid who feels encouraged, his fingers thrusting fasted, twisting and curling them to his hearts content. he makes sure to get real close to you so he can hear all of your soft whimpers and moans. a-ah... keep making those sounds... so cute...

Yan!Mermaid who keeps this up until you cum, and oh my God is he so happy. he watches as you convulse softly, pulling his fingers out and licking them. he doesn't mind if it's nasty if it's you.

Yan!Mermaid who lowers himself down and starts licking up the cum that fell onto the bed.

Yan!Mermaid who pats your back reassuringly as he positions himself behind you, helping you out though the whole thing. stroking your hair, praising you in his language, kissing every inch of your body, going as slow as he can.

Yan!Mermaid who cuddles you the whole night after that, kissing you softly. he's so happy, so fucking happy. he finally got to mate with you like a real lover, even if it was only one short round.

(BONUS NSFW: Yan!Mermaid definitely does analingus, %100. Yan!Mermaid puts your needs and wants before his, if he wants to go fast and you want to go slow he goes slow. he hates seeing you in crying, so he refuses to overstimulate you, nothing rough or degrading, and he doesn't dare leave marks on you. Yan!Mermaid AFTERCARE, SO MUCH OF IT.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Does anyone know how mermaid dick works? Like honestly, how. Is it in the tail? Just hanging out there? HOW!?

~🐈‍⬛

[radiant-reid]

24 Hours

request: a blurb where he actually gets mad at JJ when she confesses to love him but doesn't really say anything at the moment. But then when he introduces reader to the team as his girlfriend, JJ is being kinda rude to her. She tries to tell him she doesn't like her, that she's not good for him. And spencer gets mad and protective👀 maybe he even throws a "i'm going to marry her, whether you like it or not".

a/n: my return piece !!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Fluff)

Word Count: 2.2k

Spencer sees red when he walks out of the jewelry store after shooting the unsub.

JJ is the first girl he has ever asked out, someone he pined over for years after her subtle rejection at the Redskins game. He understood her reasoning. It would have been impractical for them to add relationship highs and lows to everything the BAU has been through over fourteen years, and that's if they stayed together. If they hadn't, things would have been even more complicated.

Also she just generally didn't like him that way. Or so he thought.

It didn't mean she wasn't his ideal for many years. His first love, who had so many traits he didn't have that he desperately wanted.

His confirmation he would be unlucky in love came after that with Maeve, who he once again thought could be the one for him. And then he realized that maybe the person for him had been taken away from him.

Then he met Y/n, and it all seemed worth it. All those terrible nights of crying and feeling like he would forever be alone, all the times he was the only single one on the team, knowing everyone was going home to someone they loved unconditionally and relied on for support.

She's the sun and the moon, and he fell in love so fast he couldn't stop it. Luckily, she did too.

Until JJ fucked it up.

The truth she had to tell to get them out alive dropped an atomic bomb on his newly formed life plans.

Spencer doesn't speak to her that night as they finish their recounts and reports. She leaves it out, though, he discovers, opting to write the secret about her miscarriage instead of confessing her love for her best friend and the godfather of her kids.

It messes with his head the whole way home. He can't sleep on the jet, even if he wanted to as he tried to work out what he was feeling.

All JJ does is send him pleading looks, and all he does is get angry because how dare she do this now? After she had fifteen years of them working together, all those chances to tell him how she felt.

He would have married and had a family with her, the family he always wanted. It's always stayed in the back of his head for so long, and just as he sees someone else in that role in his dreams, she drudges all of it back up.

It's such a long flight, and he taps his foot the whole way while staring out the window, not even able to read.

He goes to Y/n's. He's not sure what he's going to say, how much of it he's going to tell her, but he needs to see her to cool off the fury boiling out of him.

"Hey, handsome." She calls out when he walks in the door as cheerful as ever.

He feels a pit of guilt sink into his stomach because he can't tell her without ruining everything they delicately have put together. Maybe it's wrong to lie by omission, but his brain keeps coming back to fault. And it's JJ's fault. She's the one who's jeopardizing everything.

"Hi, gorgeous." He replies, walking into the living room to find her laying on the couch, book in her hands and her head on the armrest. He's reminded how accurate the petname he calls her by is when he's taken off guard by her breathless beauty. "How are you liking it?" He asks.

"It's good." She answers, putting the book down. "But that's because it's very you."

She gets up, meeting him behind the couch to cup his jaw, stroking over his skin and staring into his eyes for a moment before kissing him properly.

He relaxes into it, the tension in his shoulders easing and his brain slowing down for a moment. It's heavenly, as always, and it's what being loved is meant to feel like.

"How was your case?" She asks when she pulls back, still not daring to move too far away from him.

He tenses instantly at that, totally readable behavior, but he's got to perfect excuse to play it off. "It was rough." He holds out his bandaged hand that he's been avoiding showing her. "I got hurt."

"Shit." She straightens up, noticing how big it looked. "What happened?"

"Cut it on glass." He answers, not going as far as to say where he was when it occurred. "I'm fine, though. Promise."

She nods, reassured. "We've got to be up in, like, six hours, you know?" She reminds him of the time.

With the amount of coffee and adrenaline in his system, he barely registered it was already past 2 in the morning. Usually, they would have stayed in LA for the night, but being home in time for Rossi's wedding trumped a good night of sleep for everyone.

"Can I sleep here?" He wonders, awkwardly looking down at his feet.

"Duh. I'm not going to kick you out and make you come pick me up so we can go tomorrow morning." She jokes. "Picked up your suit, too. You're going to look very handsome."

Spencer grins because she seriously can't get more perfect. She still feels so unattainable, but he'd do anything to make sure he doesn't lose her.

He really should tell her, but he can't. Not right now.

Y/n snaps him out of it. "Bedtime now?"

"Please." He agrees gratefully, keeping his arms wrapped around her while they walk to her bedroom.

He keeps her close while they go through the motions of getting ready for bed. Spencer quickly sheds his suit and both of them brush their teeth.

His head is on the pillow for only a few seconds before he's asleep, and she follows soon after.

The alarm going off isn't as much of a problem when Spencer is lying in bed next to her, arm wrapped around her waist. It's one of the things she misses a lot when he's away.

"Hi, beautiful," Spencer whispers, a husky voice as always. He's glad he fell asleep quickly, not having wanted to sit up thinking about the stupid things JJ has said. He just couldn't understand why it was coming up now. Sleep provided absolutely no clarity.

She grins at him. "Hi."

"Are you ready for today?" He asks softly.

"A little nervous," Y/n admits. The BAU is his family after all. His mom is there but the BAU has been where he's spent most of his life for the last 15 years.

"They'll love you." Because I love you. Spencer assures her.

She smiles softly, feeling a little better. "Let's get up then."

Spencer agrees, not before planting a few kisses on her lips and hugging her tightly.

They get ready side by side, feeling a great sense of domesticity. She's never gotten close to someone as quickly as she has with Spencer. Somehow, it's not scary that it's happened this way.

"Wow, you're very gorgeous," Spencer tells her as she touches up the final strand of her hair, adding enough hairspray that it won't fall out. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom, admiring her. "Wow."

"Thank you." Y/n spins around to look at him in his deep maroon suit. It matches her dress color which she agrees looks very nice on her. "And you're very handsome."

"Ready? The car is coming soon." He says.

She nods, fixing her bracelet. "Let's do it."

There are still some nerves as the car takes them to the venue. Spencer does a good job of assuring her it'll be okay, his hand like a magnet to her thigh. He seems slightly off like there's something out of place, but she shrugs it off. She hopes he's being cute and afraid his friends still say something embarrassing.

The venue and interior are exquisite as they make their way in. She takes a deep breath before they come across the man of the day, welcoming everyone at the entrance. She has no doubt that the value of the artwork in this room totals her apartment and everything in it.

"Spencer." Rossi, supposably, greets him in a tight hug.

"This is my girlfriend, Y/n." Spencer introduces them.

As she expects, and as she was warned about by Spencer, Rossi pulls her in for a hug, immediately calming her nerves with his warm greeting. "It's so nice to meet you. This one won't stop talking about you." Rossi jokes, nodding at an increasingly reddening Spencer.

"It's nice to meet you too." She smiles. "Thank you for inviting me."

Rossi nods. "Of course, it's a pleasure."

And then the rest of the introductions begin. Everyone's so kind, like she expected. She's seen photos and heard stories but everyone seems to have more personality than he conveyed. She's quickly fast friends with Penelope and Tara who do their absolute best to make sure Y/n's feeling comfortable.

It's how she ends up being dragged onto the dance floor after the ceremony. Once the alcohol starts flowing, there's no more anxiousness left and some extroverted spirit has been brought out.

Spencer's not one to dance, but he's one to admire. Only Y/n, though. She looks angelic, despite the old-style dance moves.

He's so wrapped up in watching her that he doesn't register JJ's heels on the ground as she approaches him. It's only when she sits next to him that his head turns around to face her.

He waits for her to speak first. Hopefully, provide some explanation.

"Spencer." She says his name softly, almost like how he used to imagine she'd say it if they were together. Much to his surprise, she doesn't go into any detail about the bomb she'd dropped less than 24 hours ago. "I'm worried about you."

He doesn't hide his scoff. "Worried about me?" He repeats.

She goes for another tactic, trying not to get him mad. "You don't think you're rushing into this?"

"Rushing into what, Jennifer?" He spits back, snapping to anger. Using her first name drives the point home, almost unnecessarily when he sounds so angered.

"You know what I mean." She continues. "You've only been talking about her for a few weeks and now she's here."

He can't fathom that she'd suggest he's rushing into a relationship. He's been careful and deliberate, but Y/n's safe, and she's proved it time and time again.

"She's been part of my life for 6 months." Spencer fact-checks her. "And you said I seemed happier since I met her."

JJ stalls, regrouping before trying another angle. "She's just not what I expected. Is she really the type you should be with?"

"What does that mean?" Spencer states, more furious than ever. There's a chance he will fully snap at her and he wouldn't be sorry.

"I feel like you should be with someone extroverted." She suggests. "You know, someone to get you out of your shell."

Spencer needs a deep breath. "You're not being a good friend right now." He tells her much more calmly. There's not one thing he doesn't love about Y/n, whether she's more on the extroverted or introverted side."I'm going to marry her, whether you like it or not." It's not even what he expected to come out of his mouth.

"Spence-" JJ tries again to reason with him.

"No, don't you dare," Spencer says firmly. "You flew back and forth from New Orleans so many times to see Will, without telling us once and we were all accepting of your relationship. If you don't like my relationship, I don't care. But it's not too soon for me to know. We can talk about what you told me later, but for now, I'm going to dance with my girlfriend." Without another word, he gets up and walks off, leaving her a little gobsmacked.

Y/n frowns at him as he approaches the dance floor. "Are you okay?" She checks.

"More than okay," Spencer tells her with a soft smile.

"Dance with me then." She says, mirroring her smile and holding out her hand.

"I'd love to." He takes her hand just as a slow song comes on for them to sway together.

JJ gets ignored by him for the rest of the night, something unnoticed by Y/n but purposeful by Spencer. But it's fun. So much fun. And he's sure he wouldn't be having as much fun had Y/n not been there. She truly makes his day.

They're in the car later that night, parked near her apartment, ice cream eaten on the trip home. "I'm in love with you," Spencer admits when her laughter falls off after he tells a joke.

It's not a word they've said before.

Her expression is of pure shock, but joy quickly creeps in. "I'm in love with you too." She tells him, grinning.

And it's an entirely better confession than the one he heard 24 hours ago.

[be-xkyy]

Ok I can't stop thinking about a farmer x a city girl.

Tw: Yandere,smut, forced breeding.

She who is a city girl who studies in a good university, has a nice car, a nice house and a bright future.

She who goes to the countryside every year because her grandfather lives there and she takes advantage of her vacations to go see her favorite grandfather.

She who during one of those visits and when she is on the porch meets the sexy farmer who helps her grandfather with what he needs, she who stays looking at him longer than necessary, absorbing his firm figure and admiring his muscular forearms visible thanks to the rolled up sleeves of his blue shirt that accentuate his sun-tanned skin, his serious brown eyes with long eyelashes and his sexy jaw covered by a short beard...

She who wakes up from her daydream when he says in a thick and firm voice to get out of the way because she is blocking his way and only then she notices the shopping bags in his big hands so she moves awkwardly letting him enter the house.

She who walks into the house while she can't help but think he's a grumpy, rude jerk, she who walks into the kitchen and sees the man leaving the bags on the counter while he talks to his grandfather who smiles when he sees her and formally introduces them.

She who greets him with a sullen nod still offended by his previous attitude while he greets her back in kind while the grandfather rambles on about his favorite granddaughter and how you're so cute, smart and extraordinary... she who notices him silently scoffing at the words of his grandfather who says he'll happily go get the album with your photos from when you were a baby.

She who when they're alone asks him in an annoyed voice what's so funny only for him to reply in a mocking voice something like "I don't think it's very smart to come to the countryside in heels and those clothes... rather I think it's something extraordinarily stupid."

She who gets annoyed by his mocking tone and his sneering look at her shorts and tank top, and she tells him that this is a free country and he can wear whatever he wants and if he doesn't like it he can tear his eyes out.

She who gets even more annoyed when he laughs as he puts the last of his canned soup away in the cupboard, and puts the plastic bags away in a drawer, then approaches her and says in a mocking voice "Why tear my eyes out when I can do something much better... like tear your clothes off?"

She who doesn't know how she ended up pinned face down on the kitchen counter with her shorts and panties caught around her ankles as his fat cock abuses her wet, rubbery pussy, her walls sucking and sucking his cock as if they wanted to get him deeper while one of his calloused hands covers her mouth tightly preventing her moans from escaping.

She who rolls her eyes when he uses his free hand to tightly grab a handful of her hair tilting her head back and sending waves of pain and pleasure to her swollen pussy as he makes her teary eyes look into his dilated eyes.

She who whimpers sharply into his hand as he thrusts hard into her and gets close to her ear and says things like "Such a good girl, just one good fuck was all it took to get rid of your attitude huh?" or "Let daddy turn you into an honest girl, what are those slutty clothes you wear? No. There won't be any more of that for you."

She feels her body shake and her toes tense as his cock hits that spot inside her over and over again making her see stars and causing her orgasm to wash over her and her pussy to tighten around his cock and he growls at the delicious sensation moving his hips harder chasing her orgasm before giving a few more thrusts and staying still deep inside her flooding her insides with his warm semen while she stays limp on the cold counter so fucked that she can't think about anything not even the fact that she's not taking birth control.

The one who can't help but squeeze you with his weight, his chest on your back while his fingers move a strand of hair stuck to your sweaty forehead and whispers in your ear with a dark voice that shivers "You know it's time to settle down, I'm not getting any younger and I want to have at least 8 children, but don't worry honey we have plenty of time to do it... after all you're not going anywhere."

[chleem]

Mistletoe

One shot: bf drew starkey x gf yn

Summary: In which your secret relationship with drew gets exposed due to a quick kiss beneath the mistletoe.

Genre: fluff (making out wdrew)

⋆.˚ please dont copy or translate my work!

♡⸝⸝ happy xmas! | halloween | mr & mrs starkey

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You thought no one would say yes to a Home Alone marathon, but here you were—with seven friends huddled on your couch the week before Christmas.

You were prepared for rejection from them; watching the entire trilogy alone - well, not alone. With Drew, of course. 

Your boyfriend, of three months. Secret boyfriend. 

No one knew about you and Drew. And you both planned to keep it that way. The moment anyone found out, the teasing would be relentless. The questions would come. And honestly? You weren’t ready for that invasion of privacy.

It was easier this way. Just the two of you. Even if Drew was laughing along with everyone else, sitting across the room, his gaze on you would linger longer in a way only the two of you understood. 

What did Taylor Swift once say? Romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours. 

Maybe, the best thing she’s ever written. 

You stand up from your seat, carrying your empty cup. You needed a refill of hot chocolate, the only thing (other than Drew) that’s keeping your sanity alive in this cold weather. 

When you walk past where Drew’s sitting, the heavy weight of his stares makes your heartbeat uncontrollably speed up. 

Entering your kitchen, you immediately reheat the milk using the coffee machine, then pouring a bag of the instant chocolate powder into your cup. 

It feels like hours has passed waiting for the coffee machine to stop. 

Luckily, you weren’t alone while waiting. 

Before you can even react, arms snake around your waist, caging you between his body and the kitchen counter. His chest presses lightly against your back, and the warmth of his body sends a shiver down your spine.

Your heart already knows who it is: Drew. 

“Hey you,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing. 

He kisses your temple, and you sneak a look past his shoulder. The kitchen had a wall separating itself from the living room; but you could never be sure. 

“No one saw me,” he says, reading your thoughts. You look into his mischievous blue eyes with your skeptical ones, trying to suppress your smile. 

“Well, you can’t just sneak up on me like that,” you say, leaning into his touch. Without thinking, you let your nose drift near his neck; because why not? 

And as expected, he smells nice. 

“Mhm,” he’s never going to stop sneaking up on you. Drew’s eyes avert themselves down to your lips, before licking his own. “When are they going to leave?” 

“You know what a movie marathon means, right?”

Your words causes Drew to frustratedly groan, and throw his head back dramatically. You laugh at his reaction, finding it cute. “And we’re only on the second one…” 

“Patience, baby, okay?” You coo at him, a smile appearing on your face. 

You reach for the hot milk, pouring it carefully into your cup. As you finish, Drew’s hand moves up, effortlessly reaching the cupboard above you. Without a word, he pulls down the jar of marshmallows and hands it to you, his fingers brushing against yours. 

“We should just send them all home,” he whispers in your ear, seductively and annoyingly so, knowing that no one’s in here but the both of you. 

You send him a glare, shaking your head at him. “You mean I should send them all home. No.” 

You try to step away, cup of hot chocolate in hand, but before you can make it to the door, Drew pulls you back toward him again. His grip tightens around your waist, his hands feeling like they've found a permanent spot there.

You stumble slightly, not expecting the sudden pull, and end up having your chest tightly pressed against his. The heat from the mug in your hands is nothing compared to the warmth radiating from him.

One hand goes and takes the hot drink away from you, putting it back on the counter. “C’mon, I’m not done with you yet,” he smirks, undeniably teasing you. 

“Seriously?” you mutter, eyes narrowing at him, but the way your lips twitch betrays you. You like how he impatient he is; how he acts as if he can’t spend seconds away from you. 

You watch as Drew straightens up, his eyes gleaming with excitement, hand still firmly around your waist. The other slips into his pocket, and you raise an eyebrow, already bracing yourself for whatever this latest move will be.

“What now—” you start to ask, but your words die in your throat as Drew pulls something small out of his pocket.

The smallest sprig of mistletoe possible.

Your breath catches as you look up at him, eyes wide in disbelief. You expected anything but that.

He holds the mistletoe above the both of you, now expecting you to kiss him.

Then…“With you~ shawty with you,” the familiar tone of Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe leaves Drew’s mouth, but completely out of tune. 

You snort, unable to hold it in, the goofy sound escaping your mouth before you can even stop it. Romantic moment? No, maybe the complete opposite. 

Drew’s grin widens, and before you can even get a word out, he continues to sing the last chorus of the song. 

Your soft giggles encourages him to sing even more dramatically, adding in ad-libs. And when the song comes to an end, he attempts a high-note on the last lines, “kiss me underneath the mistletoe.” 

“You dork,” laughing, you hit his shoulder lightly in attempt to push him away.

“C’mon, kiss me,” he leans down closer to you, “especially after that performance.” 

You look up at him, eyes still gleaming with laughter, but something shifts. The playfulness in his gaze deepens, the smile slipping into something a little softer, a little more serious. He’s still holding the mistletoe above your heads, but it no longer feels like a joke.

And because it was such a good performance, you wrap your arms around his neck, pull him even closer, and kiss him. 

You pour your emotions into it; kissing him soft and slow. Drew immediately melts into it, kissing you back with the same tenderness. 

He drops his hands to wrap around your body, the rough leaves of the mistletoe tickling the skin your top doesn’t cover. You giggle into the kiss, leaving the invitation for Drew to thrust his tongue deeper into you. 

His hand slips lower and cups your ass, giving it a tight squeeze. 

Moaning into his mouth, you know this kiss is escalating. Escalating, rather fast. 

The pulse that speeds up in your lower stomach can support your thoughts. 

You pull away from him, breathless and slightly starstruck. 

Drew is definitely starstruck, lips plumped, cheeks red, and his blue eyes no longer able to hold a single thought behind them. 

He leans down to continue, and when you pull away, a pout is evident on his lips. 

“Earth to Joseph,” you giggle breathlessly, cupping his face. 

He smiles at the mention of his full name, lazy look in his eyes. “They didn’t notice I was gone,” he murmurs, his voice laced with desperation to kiss you again. 

“They will soon,” you gently tell him, before planting a quick kiss to his lips again. 

“Fuck,” he groans, biting down on his lower lip. His gaze drops down between the both of you, and you follow his trail of line. 

Sure enough, the crotch area of his jeans is slowly emerging, a line evident.

“Forgot how easily aroused you are,” you tease, patting his shoulder as you walk past him.

Your gaze flickers to the doorway, and when your mind confirms it, you freeze.

“Shit.”

Your eyes lock with Madelyn’s. She’s standing there, mouth opened in a gasp, eyes wide with shock. She doesn’t even try to hide the fact that she’s caught you in the act. 

Her eyes flicker between you and Drew, who immediately turns his back to face her (obvious reasons why). Her opened mouth turns into a full-wide grin, before raising a finger to point between you and Drew. “Oh! Oh-“

Madelyn’s loud remarks echoes through your apartment, making herself heard to the rest of the group in the living room. You embarrassingly bury your face into your hands, hearing the footsteps of your friend group entering your kitchen. 

Great. So much for keeping this relationship a secret. 

“What happened?” You hear JD ask, worry in his tone. 

“They were making out! And- and Drew’s hard right now!” She practically yells it, leading to a chorus of gasps and laughs. You’re pretty sure Rudy laughs the hardest, his laugh full of amusement and disbelief. 

You groan in embarrassment, your face burning as you sink to the floor, hands instinctively covering your face like a shield. "Fuck," you mutter under your breath.

“You owe me fifty bucks!” You hear Chase happily chirp to someone. 

Everyone takes advantage of you and Drew’s discomfort, just like how you expected them to do once they found out.  

You then feel hands cupping your face, forcing you to look up. 

You meet the familiar blue, Drew now kneeling beside you with an embarrassed smile that matches yours. He rests his forehead against yours, his chest vibrating with laughter, “guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

You giggle at his capability to joke along, hitting his shoulder lightly. “You’re so annoying.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” Drew says, brushing off your comment with a playful shrug.

You shake your head, but the warmth in your chest is undeniable. With a quick move, you grab the collar of his sweater, pulling him close. You tilt your head just enough to meet his lips in a kiss.

It’s soft. Brief. Sweet. Just enough to drown out the noise, to remind you of the quiet between you two amidst the madness.

When you finally pull away, your breath mingling, you murmur softly, “Merry Christmas,” your voice a gentle whisper that only he can hear.

Drew’s eyes soften as he looks down at you, his smile warm and genuine. “Merry Christmas,” he repeats, as if this moment—this simple kiss—is exactly what he needed too.

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word count: 1.6k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: merry christmas!! hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! i love writing these little holiday specials, bc it gives me the opportunity to write something fun & weird! last one i wrote was hallow's eve, and i just wanna say thxs for liking it. that is, im currently writing another christmas oneshot, so look forward to it!

elevator | other | mr & mrs starkey | hallow's eve