#sorry this one is shorter but I wanted to get it done before I work on the follower celebration requests so

[hcdragonwrites]

Banquet ( a @journey-to-the-au fic)

I had to split this into two parts because … it’s 16 pages and I did NOT want to swamp anyone with a wall of text. I’m finishing up the last bit later today possibly after work or tomorrow. I hope you all enjoy!

If there was anything that Heaven knew how to do, it was to throw a party.

In the most boring way possible to Willow.

The entertainment for tonight’s banquet of Heavenly Delight were four great white mares, set to dancing. The great beasts were dressed in robes so long they brushed the courtyard ground beyond their feathered hooves. Purple and gold, saffron and yellow silk was tied to their manes as they sashayed and side stepped in perfect tandem to the soft orchestra led by Gold Chimes Softly. The drums beat a second heart to the horses hooves. Everything was ever perfect and in time. Not a swish of a tail or a twitch of an ear. Willow heard the bells on the great hooves beat in perfect harmony. Other women from their seats applauded as the mares danced softly from side to side. To everyone who awaited the main course and delighted in the dancing, it was the most marvelous entertainment.

To Willow, she was bored to her wits end.

Not a single spark of spontaneous will, Willow thought as her hands settled in her lap. It was another feast her father had requested by letter for her to attend. Well her and Wukong who-even now after almost hundreds of years!- the celestial busy bodies still whispered that she, Earth Reaching Willow, must be under some sort of cursed spell, some beguilement to be married to him.

Sometimes the pasty nobles and smooth beautiful faces of the lady’s behind their fans and sleeves earned the deepest scorn from Willow.

She looked up to the sky. They were seated in the courtyard of sorts, where the pavilions were open to the air and backdropped by the perfectly cut ivy crawling it’s way up the trellis. The warm air and the music was welcome but also stifling in a sense. Incense burned not too far away, cloying with the scent of cooking food in the worst possible way. Willow saw that every star was in its perfect place, the constellations playing at perfection to please their Emperor. Another laugh from nearby caught her ear over the dancing horses. She turned and saw a few attendants huddled in a whisper, pointedly looking between other guests at the banquet. Seems their is rumor scheming going about. How dull.

I bet none of them have witnessed the beauty of a star shower from earth.

She hid it well however, her scorn. Willow couldn’t understand how anyone would choose Heaven over the ever changing earth below. None of these thoughts made themselves visible on her face however. Schooled and taught, bred to peaceful serenity, Willow let nothing ripple the calm of her outward appearance. As cool as a northern star, as serene as a flower in a vase.

Captive peace was hardly true peace. It was stagnation. It was the loss of what made the peace worthwhile. Willow had experienced that feeling: of tumbling in the grass, the heat of the fire as a lightning strike burned a forest down, of the sea and its salty spray in a storm. Willow had felt the movement of a world and it had caught her and held her constantly in its motion.

She took a sip of wine to hide her mouth as it began to slip into a frown. The wine may be of the best quality, brewed by the greatest hands and purified in the finest crystal, but it would never compare to the joy of the toasts her earthen family held in their patch of paradise. Of how when Ba got into his cups he would challenge his sister Ma to a duel of jokes and japes. The music made by Sweet, a kind little monkey, was a better tune and full of more life then Gold Chimes Softly well placed and organized orchestra. Sweet could play a jaunty tune upon their flute, while the rest of his little musician group followed along. They could whip the troupe into a frenzy of dancing and table jumping. Willow had danced before, controlled and reserved like the Mares in their bells and ribbons. But dancing within her husband's court had been an experience she never would have imagined missing. The dancing wildness and stamping feet, the spinning from partner to small partner, the joy that filled the air and the laughter. It had been better than star wine - it had been an intoxication that had left her heart drumming and face smiling wide.

The horses finished their beautiful dance and the court clapped. Willow clapped too. The mares did wonderfully. It was not their fault that the dance felt too restrained, too controlled.

Her father was happy to have her home. Willow could tell by the very evident glances down to his daughters from his seat at the head of the table. He had all of his family arrayed about him, basking. Willow made polite conversation that only scraped surface level with her sisters and the passing women who came to visit her seat. Willow complemented the lady’s jewels and colored gowns. To the men she disarmed a hundred pointed comments that were trying to dig beneath and get to the root of what would be tender and delectable tea to spill in court.

That great sage- he drinks with a gusto! Is it always this way?

Translation - is he a drunk ?

My what clothes. Such a unique style it must have been picked up in his travels!

Translation: He dresses like a Savage. Is He a Savage to you?

Willow had almost slapped another adviser who had pointedly remarked on the lack of children they had and questioned Wukongs ability to perform.

Her sisters, oh her clever sisters, had rallied to her defense in the most courtly way they could: they turned him into a piece of gossip to throw back to court.

“Did you hear?” Wind Over Sea stage whispered to Autumn Leaves Falling.

“Oh do tell!” Autumn Leaves Falling flashed her most wonderous smile, catching the Advisor in her trap.

“Seems that Moon Shadowed Clouds husband has been kicked out of their bedroom!” Wind replied, making direct eye contact with the Advisor.

“How terribly pitiful!” Weaves the Clouds remarked from her cushion beside the other sisters. The Jade Emperor watched from above, keeping himself out of the gossip.

“Wasn’t he caught drinking down in one of the mortal brothels ?” Autumn added, her eyes slashing toward the advisor.

“I heard it was on his Wife’s birthday to boot!” Winter Frosted Grace sniffed, setting her cup of tea down.

Her sisters turned in unison to stare down the Advisor with such cat like intensity.

“For shame!” Little Weaver Girl, the youngest of the brood of women, said loud enough for the court to hear. Little could get away with being louder than the rest- she was adored by their father and was the master weaver of heaven. Her creations had been sought after by all the courts when their father had worn one of her robes that Little had made. “Trying to twist your bad fortune onto my sister.”

The advisor, of course, made a swift exit with red ears and wounded pride.

Willow was thankful for her sisters. They alone understood that Willow, for whatever reason, had found comfort with Wukong and was truly happy. They didn’t see why she wished to remain down among the earthly mortals. Her happiness was what they valued and, like a streak of tigers, would defend with witty claws and well disguised barbs any that fancied a go at making court gossip from the Emperors family.

Willow wished for the upteenth time that she could bring the lot of them to their mountain. To see what she saw. She knew deep down that none of them would really understand. Except for Little. Her youngest sister often snuck from the court to watch the common people live their lives and to see the other mortal weavers of the world. Little would love their mountain. She began to think of Flower Fruit Mountain as theirs - her and Wukongs. It Held so many memories- so many joys and sorrows.

Where was Wukong?

Willow was surprised he had been absent so long. Wukong was still a bit unaccustomed to the Celestial workings of the court and it’s people. Even after attaining buddhahood and becoming an enlightened master, Willow knew that the gossip surrounding them would never die out. It was tiresome to interact with people who still brought things up from almost centuries ago.

She cast her gaze about for him and saw a flash of his red fur—

And his teeth.

Willows stomach fell, like a falcon folding her wings for a dive. Straight to the bottom of her soul

Wukong was surrounded by a swath of richly dressed courtiers, lords and men of the Palace. They kept a respectful courtly distance but Willow knew it was too close. Her dear friend was giving all the warnings she had learned over the centuries together to read. His eyebrows had been raised at the beginning of her watching but now they lowered, the teeth on full display. A smile of aggression. A smile that said ‘I take offense’. He felt accosted and would soon act upon it. For all the calm that had been taught, her husband could not forget that he was a creature that had to fight for so long.

Oh these utter fools, Willow thought. They still don’t know when to leave him well enough alone.

It would be their fault for not understanding Wukongs simple and very obvious attempts to walk past and around them. But another man would join, asking to hear of his teachings from the Buddha himself, and his eyes would make direct contact with theirs and the teeth would shine all the sharper. That wasn’t a smile. That was a promise of violence.

Willow knew if Wukong reacted it would only cement the court's opinion of Wild Beast they saw. Willow had to act fast before the feast turned from one of peace to one of violence. So Willow, setting her goblet down whispered to her nearest sister, Winter.

“Catch me.”

“Beg pardon?”

And then Willow, with the grace of all her years of acting and tricking the witless fools of Heaven, swooned and fainted. Winter caught her, crying out in more surprise than worry.

Willow made sure she brought her hand up dramatically to her face, the sleeve covering her mouth. Her elbow she had knock into the tray that held food and Willow was rewarded with the loudest clatter of porcelain cracking onto the floor beneath them. The goblet she had placed was sent flying to spill into the rug beneath their cushioned seats.

Sorry father. I know you wanted a peaceful night with us all.

Her dramatics had the desired effect: the court all took in a sudden breath and some gasped. She heard her father call to her and the worry in his voice made Willow's heart beat with a bit of guilt.

“Sister?” She felt hands shake her shoulders in worry and looked up beneath lashes into Winters frosty face.

“Play along, so that way the court doesn’t catch on.” Willow whispered and her hand subtly pointed to where Wukong had been- and where he was running up to her.

“Willow!” He sounded so worried it made her heart give another guilty squeeze. His hands had grown in size, meaning he had made himself larger than regular. “Are you alright my love?”

Willow looked just beneath her arm as she brought it up higher in a mock groan. But he was close enough to hear her now.

“Let’s go home.” Willow could see the stress lines on his face, the anger that had been there cooling like coals in a fire.

“Seems my sister fainted.” Bless her, Little was close enough to see that a game was afoot. And she always approved of games. “It’s been so long since she was at the Palace after all. The scents may have overwhelmed her.”

Wukong looked down just long enough to see Willow give a wink. Some of the tension leaked from him and she could feel it leave his hands. His fast mind seized onto this statement (now that he was given a signal that this was a ruse) and elaborated upon the story.

“My wife was worried about tonight. The winds over our mountain have been so clean and clear while Heavens incense must have overwhelmed her delicate nose.” Wukongs arms took her up, face close to hers.

“How did you know?” He mumbled into her hair. He didn’t ask her if she knew what. Wukong understood that she was doing this for him in some way. It was the intuition of being with each other for so long.

“Saw those courtiers - the fools.” She barely moved her lips to speak and was glad to have her sleeve covering her face. She couldn’t help the smile as he blew air into her ear, tickling her.

“You are a Heaven send.” He said to her then addressed the court.

“Seems my wife needs to clear her head. We will head home on the leave of my Father-in-Law the Jade Emperor.”

“You may go, Sun Wukong. Let me - let me know how she fares will you?” The worry that made the end of his voice tremble at the end had Willow feel just a bit more guilt.

Sorry Father.

Willow felt Wukong bow his head and then they were away, faster than a falling star on a path back to earth. Once past the Celestial guards Wukong tapped her shoulder with a claw and Willow dropped her act and sighed.

“Thank small mercies.” She sighed, gazing out at the fast approaching world below.

“Mercies exist but they are not small.” Wukong said. “I’m holding one in my arms.”

“You flatterer.” She laughed at the sappy look he gave her and she pressed his nose with a delicate finger. “Come, tell me true- what we’re those vipers cornering you about?”

“Seems they were beginning to question my … ability to … well …” Wukong was looking everywhere but her, the wind blowing across his fur. It couldn’t hide the blush turning his face and ears into a tomato.

It only took a second for Willow to understand- and she turned in his arms to glare back into the sky. “I will flay that Advisor!”

“Advisor?”

“Yes. The little shrew of a man must have set the rumour to running before he approached me himself.” The coward. She was glad her sisters had known enough gossip to spin his dilemma into a full show for the court. Willow touched Wukongs cheek, worried. “Tell me what happened.”

“They started asking about my ascension in Buddhism and asked about my teachings. Then they started … well. In on the questions of you and me and our… intimacies.” He was so uncomfortable that he was rubbing at his forehead, claws leaving little red marks on his exposed skin. “It started making me uncomfortable and I couldn’t see or get a clear path to return to you.” Wukong sighed. “I’m sorry Willow.”

“Sorry? You have nothing to apologize for! That man had come up to me and my sisters to dig at us for information as well.” Willow chuckled, remembering how Little, Winter, Cloud and Autumn had perfectly embarrassed the man. “Of course you know the sort my sisters are- even if they don’t quite approve of me living on earth they won’t stand for such pointed questions.”

“You were asked about children as well?”

“Yes and I was about to slap him.” This made Wukong laugh. They sped past a cloud front, promising heavy rain. The mountain was coming into sight now within a sea of jet black turned silver by the moon.

“I would have paid good money to see it. The second slap heard in all of Heaven!” Wukong chortled. Then he sobered. “I’m sorry again.”

“Stop Wukong.” Willow caught his face and pressed a kiss to his temple. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

And then her stomach gave a tremendous growl, like the traitor it was. It took the wind from her words and flamed Wukongs look of timid regret.

“I pulled you away from the feast before you could even get a bite in.”

“We have all the food back at home.” Willow countered. Cursed stomach. As the Mountain got closer and the silence stretched a bit longer Willow looked back at her friend. His face was concentrated in thought that was slowly beginning to brighten to delight.

“Wukong, I know that face. What are you thinking ?”

He was silent, trying to make his face neutral again. And failing miserably. Once they had stepped down and onto solid ground, Wukong set Willow down and returned to his original size.

“Wukong…” Willow tried again, but was interrupted as the two sentries that night, Ma and Ba, came bounding forward, weapons drawn. When they saw it was Wukong and Willow they relaxed and called greetings.

“My King? You Return so soon!” Ma said.

“Was the feast good?” Ba asked, his broken tail giving an agitated flick.

Wukongs face was fully alight with a genuine smile as he looked at Willow then back at his family.

“The feast was a drab thing of mediocre blathering. We will outdo them here!” The Monkey King walked forward, taking Willows hand gently. She followed, knowing that she was about to get her answer to what Wukong was about to do

“Ma! Ba! Call the troupe- fire up the ovens. Set Water Curtain Cave in its best ! We will have our own feast that will rival Heavens!”

“Yes my king!” The two answered in unison then sped off, whooping and calling and waking all of the mountain for a feast. Ma grabbed at her brothers ear and yanked, getting ahead of him. Ba snarled in mock aggression, swinging his leg to knock Mas out from under her. The two had turned it into a race and it didn’t seem that either would make it out without a few bruises along the way.

“They seem eager for it.” Wukong laughed. He led Willow into their home as the lanterns were turned from their sleepy glow to a bright blaze.

“Wukong …”

“What?”

“Why a feast? I don’t need a feast — I would be satisfied with a simple fruit tart and some water.” Willow felt a bit guilty as she saw sleeping mothers poke their heads from the stone homes and peer out at the ever growing and excited crowd calling for feasting. She saw the kitchen fires light up like a twinkling row of stars coming to life.

“Nonsense!” Wukong assured, pulling her along. “ Why should Heaven have fun and we not have any? Besides I have to find a way to thank you for saving my pride while you lost a bit of your own.”

Was that what this was about ?!

“Oh Wukong it’s fine! Women are expected to faint and fall over themselves with the silliest things.” Her sisters had fainted countless times. Mostly to attract the eye of a gentleman or women they thought was beautiful or fancied. Willow had seen Autumn take the most spectacular swoon, right into the arms of one of the generals! Maybe theatrics ran in the family. Wukong simply shook his head. The idea had him now, the excitment of competing with Heaven growing brighter in his eyes.

“I won’t hear of it.” Wukong declared. Willow forgot how competitive her friend could be. But he also was hiding something else he wanted to do. She could read it like a book.

“You are planning something else are you not? Don’t lie, I can see it on your face plain as day!” She teased him, his mirth infectious. The whole cavern was now alive with the news- droves of the family were coming out now gathering in the banquet hall with foodstuffs to share and enjoy in. Wine was being brought up from the deeper colder caves and already the air smelled intoxicating as the cooks set to work.

It was Wukongs turn to wink at Willow now as he left her at her room door, smiling softly. “You will see~”

[klemen-tine]

No Prince Charming

(Batfam x Mom!Reader)

Anonymous asked:

Hello, I really like your work.

I saw that you have an open request, so I want to share an idea that has been sitting in my head for a long time.

Reader married Bruce for convenience. (In my head, the reader is a woman, but I'll leave it to your taste) The wedding takes place shortly before the appearance of the first Robin. Bruce and reader have a cold relationship. Reader comes from the wealthy population of Gotham. Therefore, reader is well educated and intelligent. So after a while, when Dick already appears, reader understands what her husband does at night. But reading doesn't say anything about it or hint at it. The reader doesn't want to get involved in any of this, it scares her. And although the reader is planning a divorce, she takes care of all the members of her new family. And although she is neglected in the family, the reader becomes a parental figure for children. But the children won't admit it. When Damian appears, the reader doesn't say a word to Bruce. But Damian treats reader very badly. And that becomes the trigger. The reader slips Bruce the divorce papers.(not to mention that they are getting divorced, since Bruce is likely to protest) and when Bruce signs them, he leaves the estate, leaving the divorce papers and the wedding ring on the bed when no one notices. And only then does the family realize what they have done with their neglect of reader. Their yandere trait is waking up in them and now they need to somehow find their reader.

Sorry if it's too much.

And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator

❤

Warning: Non-consensual drugging, not descriptive sex. It's just mentioned, no details. Hinted at Dick's trauma with his sidekick.

It was a marriage of convenience. That's all it was. Bruce Wayne knew Y/N L/N since childhood, and while they weren’t close, Y/N was the only one who never treated him any differently after his parents were murdered. Maybe it's because her own father was murdered, and she understood that sometimes the greatest support was to act like nothing changed. 

Fast forward to young adults, Bruce Wayne was now Brucie in public, and Y/N was the unstoppable woman leading her own company by the reins. Bruce had come to her with an offer, one that had her brows raised and painted lips smirking. For Bruce Wayne, this will help solidify his position as someone who was not Batman, and for Y/N it would finally silence the hecklers that gnawed at her heels and bit into her shoulders. 

A frigid marriage, filled with cold greetings, Brucie still entertaining women, Y/N still controlling her company with painted lips, and rumors surrounding them. Despite the coldness, Y/N knew a lie when she saw one. She knows a front when she comes face to face with one, and it is why when she saw Batman in the hallways of Wayne manor, staring at her in shock and apprehension, she rolled her eyes and continued to sip her wine as she made her way back to her office. 

“Please don’t stain the carpet. Alfred just shampooed them.” They never brought it up again. Bruce was no Prince Charming, despite the front he put on for strangers. There were no whispered promises, no flowers, no gifts, nothing but ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes.’ 

Then, along came Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson. A child who had blinked up at her with large blue eyes, and Y/N could feel her heart crumble. She had welcomed him with open arms and smiles. She had welcomed all of the Robins in. Her manicured nails getting shorter each time, so she doesn’t have to fear hurting one of them, and her smiles became softer. Y/N had never tried to replace any of their mother’s, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one. 

But it was Bruce they had a closer bond with. Which is why they started following his behavior towards her. Clipped words and rolling of eyes were common, as were the cold shoulders and tense silences. 

“You’re not my mom! So stop asking how school was!” Y/N stared at Jason in shock and curiosity about where that outburst had come from. Alfred was the only one to say anything. A stern, “Master Jason,” and a look that had even Bruce cowering had the young boy apologizing. Y/N ignored the way her heart slowly broke, as the quirky child full of smiles, sass, and who loved classics, turned his back on her. 

As if she wasn’t the one to introduce those books to him. 

Y/N doesn’t blame them for their cold behavior towards her. She doesn’t blame Dick’s disregard, Jason’s hurtful words, Tim’s cynical looks, Steph’s taunts, and Damian’s heated actions.  

Y/N had cried at Jason’s funeral, she helped Bruce fight for custody for Tim, she had consoled Dick after some of his own traumatic experiences, and she sat there and listened as Damian compared her and Talia. Talia, of all people. She had met the woman once, and Y/N had nodded at her. Y/N never judged Bruce for sleeping with the woman. Hell, Y/N would have too.  Y/N can recall the day Damian came to their manor, and the short look Dick had given her when she and the child made eye contact. 

Y/N doesn’t know if it was a look of concern or mockery, but she knows he did look. 

She was there for Richard when his trauma with his sidekick happened. He may have never told her, but Y/N is a woman. A woman who has known people that have suffered the same way Dick has. That are still suffering like he is. 

“I’m sorry Richard.” 

“What do you even know?! You know nothing! Absolutely nothing so just butt out!” Dick glared at her with blue eyes that had put the arctic water to shame. Y/N stood there and took it all. She stood proudly with her shoulders back and chin up. 

In public, she was a stoic mother keeping the children in check while Bruce goofed off. She was the woman who failed her children, because she chose to continue running her business. Her very, very, very successful business. A business that had taken her and her mother from the bottom of High Society, to the top 10%. A series of great investments, smart marketing, and pretty words have lined her pockets with money that she could easily retire on. 

Yet, all that money couldn’t save her mother. The woman died of a heart attack, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Y/N could do besides bury her mother. 

“Bruce please.” 

“I am busy.” 

“I know but Bruce, this is my–” 

“Ask Alfred.” He had turned his back and Y/N was stuck staring at the retreating man with a new feeling of heartbreak. The tabloids ate up that she was alone at her mother’s funeral. A private event that no one was allowed into besides close family and friends. 

When she came back, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, Damian had picked the time to make his disdain known again, “–and my mother would have never let herself go like that. You look horrid, unbefitting of a Wayne. A disgrace.” 

Blank E/C eyes stared into raging green and she sighed, “Thanks, Damian.” She spared him no glance after that, and she walked towards her bedroom to take a hot shower. It was there, under the hot spray of water that she finally cried. She cried for the last part of family she had, and the years she lost from marrying a man who didn’t even like her enough to attend a godforsaken fucking funeral. She cried for the children she couldn’t even call her own. 

She cried for the life she missed by marrying Bruce fucking Wayne. 

“Honey, are you happy?” 

“Of course Mama.” 

“You never could lie to me sweetie.” Her mother kissed her forehead and looked into E/C eyes with nothing but love, “You’ve worked so hard, sweetie.” That acknowledgement alone had her almost in tears, “But please start working for yourself now.” 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N hopped out of the shower and called her lawyer. Divorce papers were in her hands within 24 hours, and her bags packed in 3. 

She stood next to Bruce, ignoring the scowl on his face as she ‘disrupted’ his work. Y/N kept her face neutral, because if she smiled it would give it all away, and handed him the page he needed to sign. 

For a billionaire and for a vigilante, he sure didn’t read the damn paper. Which is fine. Great even, because now, after being here for over a decade, Y/N is free. She laughed in her room, laughing so hard that it almost tore her throat. Leaving a copy of it on Bruce’s bed once he was gone, she grabbed her suitcase and accidentally ran into Alfred on her way out the door. 

The old man took a look at her clothes, her bags, and her expression before sighing, “Shall I drive you for the last time, Lady Y/N?” Y/N smiled, bitterly at the thought of leaving Alfred, her only solace in this cold mansion. 

“To the airport, please.” The ride was silent, and Y/N didn’t look back as they left the gates of the mansion. It wasn’t until they were halfway there that Y/N spoke up, “My lawyer will call in a few days, just to hash out the details.” 

“Is that so?” 

“There’s nothing I want. No assets, no money, nothing will be taken, I just want a divorce.” She just wants the law to recognize that she is not a Wayne. That she will never be a Wayne. 

“Lady Y/N, perhaps a check for compensation for the emotional strain would be nice?” Y/N laughed, bitterly and sad, “I don’t want his money. I want nothing to do with him anymore.” 

“And the kids?” 

“They don’t need me. They never did. I doubt they will even notice.” Gotham International Airport wasn’t crowded, and that may be because it was 1pm on a Tuesday. Alfred helped her with her bags, and the old man stared at the woman before him. He remembers meeting her for the first time, a confident young woman who had a way with words and was unfairly intelligent. Matching wits and able to speak confidently in a room of people who thought little of her. 

It's good to see some of that coming back. 

Y/N hugged Alfred, “Thank you, Alfred. For everything.” The older man sighed and watched as the woman took her bags and walked away. Not once did she look back and Alfred decided to stay until her form disappeared in the building. He sighed heavily and when got back in the car, he dialed a number he knew by heart. It only took three rings before the voice of the man he raised answered, “Alfred, is everything okay?” 

“Master Bruce, I fear you may have lost something precious, and I do hope you, and the young masters, have a plan to make this up to them.” He hung up afterwards as he merged into traffic, and he hoped his message finally hit something within his son’s dense skull. 

When he returned back to the manor, he began the preparation for making dinner. All was silent throughout the manor, until the door opened and the rush of the footsteps began marching towards him. 

“Master Richard, I urge you to not run.” 

“Bruce told me there was an emergency and to hurry to the manor?” Alfred sighed, “While it is an emergency, it is not one you can fix on your own.” No, this was something for Bruce to fix seeing tha all the problems stemmed from him. 

Dick raised a brow, “What kind of emergency is it?” Alfred pursed her lips, “Miss Y/N Wayne is now Miss Y/N L/N once more.” He turned to look the man he has considered his grandson in the eyes, and he could see the revelation sink in. 

“Y/N divorced Bruce?” Alfred nodded, “The papers have been signed.” 

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Alfred raised a brow, “They are signed and waiting for him to read.” Dick slowly walked out of the kitchen, “Is she still here?” Alfred turned back to the food and Dick began speed walking towards Y/N’s room. As a child it never occurred to him why they would they never slept together, but as he got older he understood. 

He knocked on her doors, calling her name like he used to as a kid. 

Dick had always understood that Bruce’s and Y/N’s relationship was not one of a couple in love. He also understood that Y/N’s treatment in the manor by the residents of the manor was unfair. Whenever he could, he would correct Damian’s harsh words, but even he himself couldn’t fully bring himself to be all that kind to her. 

He tried. He desperately tried, because he saw all that she did for them behind the scenes. He saw the mistreatment and judging looks others would give her as her ‘husband’ was out fooling around. 

Dick saw the blank look she had given Damian after her mother’s funeral. The one none of them had gone too. 

“What do you mean you didn’t go?” His voice panicked as he talked to Tim, “I didn’t go. I was under the assumption someone else would go.” 

Y/N could have been Gotham’s biggest bitch, but not even then would she have deserved that. What made it worse was that Y/N was not a bitch. She wasn’t cruel, or unkind. She was as much of a philanthropist as Bruce was. Always aiding those whose needed it and desperately trying to make Gotham a better place. 

Dick opened her doors and was greeted with an empty room. Gone were the picture frames, and the closet was empty along with the bathroom. Her prized jewlery, the things she took care of almost obsessively, all of it was gone. 

He could remember beng 9 and sitting next to her as she cleaned one of her sapphire earrings. Thin fingers with long nail held the earring next to him, a scrutinizing look on her face before she would break out into a grin, “As I thought, nothing could ever compare to our Dickie’s sapphire eyes.”

“Holy shit.” 

“What’s going on- why is Y/N’s room empty?” Tim looked throughout the room, and Dick could see the wonder across his younger brother’s face. Right, between all of them, Tim and Y/N had the least amount of time spent together. 

Dick stared at his brother as the image of Y/N smiling at a string of pearls entered his mind. She had explained to him when he asked that pearls, while feminine, also symbolized new beginnings. She had gotten it when Tim’s custody was signed over to the Waynes. 

“She’s gone.” Tim met Dick’s eyes, “Like… taking a vacation gone?” Dick gave a humorless chuckle, “She divorced Bruce, Tim. Y/N is gone.” This must have been what Alfred saw when he broke the news to Dick. The confusion and then realization coming to light in those blue eyes. 

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Dick had said the same thing, and yet here she was. Gone. As if to emphasize his point, Dick made an exaggerated expression and motioned to the empty room. 

Tim looked around and he could feel a headache forming, “Bruce is gonna be pissed.” Dick groaned, “Fuck Bruce for a second, the only stable-mentally healthy-adult figure that isn’t Alfred is gone, Tim.” The boy didn’t look all that bothered, “Well, if she’s happier then I don’t mind.” 

Of course he doesn’t mind. Why? Because this little stalker most likely knows where she’s going. Tim did a good job hiding it, but Dick was raised by Bruce. He is trained to spot the mciroexpressions of people, and even if they are his own siblings. 

Tim is panicking. The very thought of Y/N leaving had not once occurred to them, and for Tim who loves planning, this was not once ever in the plans. 

Not once. Y/N had been a staple within the manor, and to imagine her not being here was rough. Evenw hen she left for business trips, it was fine because they all knew she was coming back. SHe would come back with souvenirs, handing each of them something that reminhded her of them, before running upstairs to get out of the family’s judgemental line of sight. 

“Fucking hell.” 

++++

Bruce entered the condo with ease. His steps light as he walked through the dark room, noting the all the furniture. There was no Y/N in the living room or kitchen, but when he looked out the balcony door, he could see her back. She was leaning against the edge of the infinity pool, without doubt a hot tub of some sorts because it was too cold to be swimming in a regular pool. 

She didn’t even turn around to look at him, her attention focused on the view of the snowy mountains and raging seas in front of her. Bruce could see the wine bottle left on the side of the pool and the glass that looked like it was finished only a short while ago. When she did turn around, E/C reflected the stars and dimly lit light around the pool, making them shine and sparkle like they were the galaxy.

Bruce isn’t blind. He knows Y/N is an attractive woman who had many people lusting after her even when they were married. Talia even made a note of it, “You should see if she wants to join next time.” He should have known that his clipped response was a sign. 

It was all there, and yet he did everything within his power to ensure that he would not fall in love with her. Falling in love has always been out of the question, and when Y/N came into his life, Bruce made it his mission to do just that. The woman before him had never complained, and she never seemed to fault him for it, but he could tell there was resentment. If he couldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love with her, he could have at least offered her friendship. One that made life more bearable for the both of them, and set a good example for the kids. 

“What are you doing, Bruce?” She didn’t seem shocked that he was here, let alone in her vacation condo. Bruce took off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before joining her in the hot tub. He had grabbed two glasses of wine before doing so, handing her one and taking a sip from the other. 

 “Is it wrong of me to want to join my wife on her vacation?” 

“Ex-wife. The documents are signed, and besides this is a girl trip.” Bruce re-read those documents and kicked his foot for not fucking reading them when he first signed them. He should have known she was up to something. 

“Y/N, come back to the manor.” He stared into E/C eyes as she took another sip of the wine. Bruce had come with a speech prepared, ready to convince her to come back with him, but it was all lost as he stared and observed the woman in front of him drink delicately from the glass. Y/N L/N has always been a woman of class, even when she was near the bottom of high society. It wasn’t her good looks that landed her in the top 10, possibly even top 5%, and like every classy woman, she was only allowed to regret a few things. Their marriage is one, but leaving is not even an option on the list of things she wants to regret but can’t. 

He knows this. She knows this. 

And yet, Bruce could only focus on how beautiful she looks, and how beautiful she would look sprawled on the silk bed sheets. Y/N has aged like fine wine, looking even more beautifully and worth more and more with each passing year. Aging gracefully and beautifully as the years passed and still catching the attention of others. 

It's a shame his younger self was more into whiskey than wine. 

He wonders how different their relationship would be if he had gotten to know her before and during the early years of their marriage. Without a doubt it would be easier to talk to her. Easier to convince her to come back to a manor that now misses her.

“And why should I?” It’d be easier to answer her with a compelling reason, one that would have her actually debating on whether or not to come back. Bruce reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and he’s shocked that she even let him do that. She didn’t flinch, nor did she lean into his touch. Y/N stood still as he moved the H/C lock behind her ears. 

“The manor misses you.” He’s never heard her laugh the way she did in that moment. Throwing her head back and exposing unblemished skin to the night air as she laughed, and continued to laugh. Her shoulders shaking from the force and slightly distilling the wine. 

Once she was done, her cheeks were red from the laughter and she was gasping for breath, “Yeah, okay. So Alfred misses me, I’ll make sure to give him a call then.” She turned her back to Bruce and began walking towards the edge of the pool. 

“The boys, girls, and I do too.” Chateau Petra was on his lips and the feeling of cold wine hitting his face and upper chest had him closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Y/N’s wine glass was empty and on her face was a hard expression. Cold E/C eyes glaring into his as she pulled herself out of the pool, and grabbed the rest of the wine bottle. 

“Sleep on the couch. You’re going home tomorrow.” Her steps quiet as she stalked into her home and she headed for the bathroom. Bruce sighed, and stared at the night sky with a new look in his eyes, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ He would like to believe that he is above this. He wants to believe that this was the worst case scenario happening and therefore this needs to happen. 

Has to. The very thought of Y/N being away caused an itch to form under his skin and a burning fire in his chest. A fire he never knew blazed in him until it went out. Now, more aware and protective of it, Bruce found himself craving the warmth in ways that had his mouth foaming and muscles tensing. He looked down at the water and saw the red wine diluting and sprawling throughout the pool water, looking like blood for only a second. 

A smile curled on his lips and he pulled himself out of the pool water, drying himself off before making his way into the shower with his ‘ex-wife.’ They may have never been lovers, but they were two adults living under the same roof. 

So, of course they have had sex. 

Hate sex is the best and worst sex. It is the best because Bruce can go as hard as he wants to and Y/N will love it. It is the worse because hate sex is all Y/N will see this as. Y/N will only see it has hate sex and not for the love Bruce feels for her. She won’t feel it in the way he caresses her skin or in the way he leaves his bite marks on her thighs. All Y/N will see this as, is hate sex. 

Which is fine. If hate sex is what Y/N needs to see this as to work then Bruce will take it. He has time. He has plenty of time to show her how much he cares and loves her. Those divorce papers will be long gone, every single one of those copies non-existent. He loves her. He loves her in the way a cactus loves the sun, or how the stars love the moon. 

Bruce was so enamored by her, that he couldn’t help but to fall deeper. Her soft hands, that have never broken a bone but have broken many hearts, cradling scarred shoulders and sharp cheeks. She didn’t flinch when his own rough hands gripped her’s, bruising and secure, and she didn’t flinch when intense blue eyes met hers. In fact, she smiled, like this was all a joke he was the butt of it. 

It pissed him off that even she could have secrets and inside jokes that he doesn’t know about. As she laid there, her eyes now closed and body relaxed, Bruce pulled out a syringe filled with something that will keep her asleep. Only for a few days. Barbara is already working on getting rid of the divorce papers and the kids were preparing for her return. 

Bruce kissed her forehead, smiling down at his Sleeping Beauty. If need be, the manor will be her castle and the kids her vines covered in thorns. Bruce, in all his daunting and terrifying glory shall be the dragon, keeping her locked within her castle because nowhere was safer than the castle. Only she could keep him calm, and only she could make him feel human. 

Batman was never Prince Charming.

_________________________________________________________

Not my best work in my opinion... but I still like tbh.

@problematicreblogger

@kurai-hono-blog

@rosecentury

[itsthewritergal]

don't tell Bucky - B.Barnes x reader

Summary: Reader is broke and refuses to tell mob!bucky the extend of it

TW: fluff, happy ending, little swears, mention of money, getting fired, (think that's everything)

ENJOY!!

:)

Y/N was used to the biting cold in her apartment, it had been a long few months with her hours being cut down and bills piling up she was in debt. Badly. She had started cutting costs where possible, heating was the first to go, she had opted for  not turning the heating on despite the freezing temperatures outside, food was the second thing to go, she had starting making meals stretch and eating less and slowly things seemed a little more manageable. The bills continued to pile up, yet things seemed a little easier. Every single penny was put to the side to clear her debt. She had been seeing Bucky as much as possible but she couldn’t talk to him about it, he would just offer to pay her debt off and then she’d owe him for almost the rest of her life. She couldn’t ask him. She wouldn’t. Bucky had picked her up from work, it was a surprise, and something Y/N was grateful for as she wouldn’t have to pay for the bus home. 

“Do you want to stay at mine tonight?” Bucky asked gently pressing a kiss to her cheek as they finished their heavy make-out session in the car 

“I’ve got work in the morning,” She said softly, breath slipping through her lips 

“Call in sick” Bucky said between kisses “You can go without one shift can’t you?” Bucky asked 

“We’re short staffed Buck, I need to be there” She lied easily, 

“Let me come in? I just want to hold you tonight” He said softly pressing another kiss to her lips. Y/N nodded in agreement, how could she ever say no to an offer like that? 

Bucky followed Y/N up the stairs to her apartment, she unlocked the door and was met by an icy breeze. Bucky shuddered. 

“Why is it so cold baby? Your heating broken?” He asked 

“Hmm?” Y/N asked turning around to face him 

“Your apartment Y/N, it’s cold” 

“Oh, sorry Buck I turned the heating off” 

“For good?” Bucky asked closing the door behind him “Or is it broken?” He asked

“Oh, no I just turned it off whilst I was at work” Y/N said softly, 

“Why would you do that?” Bucky asked again pulling Y/N into an embrace 

“It was just while I went to work Buck”

“That’s not safe doll, you should keep the heating on so you don’t get ill, even when you’re not home. You need to come into a warm house” Bucky said, Y/N resisted the urge to cry. 

“I usually do Bucky, it was just a one off” she said. 

Bucky didn’t mention the heating again that night. Y/N was grateful for that small mercy. What he did mention was the mountain of blankets that sat on her bed. 

“Doll?” He called from her bedroom 

“Yeah?” She replied coming into the bedroom, her eyes falling on Bucky’s metal hand clasping three blankets, 

“You coming down with something?” He asked “I can call Banner to come and check on you if you want?” 

“Oh Buck, no I’m ok. Just get cold when you’re not here” She said, it wasn’t a complete lie, just a small one. It made her feel a little better. 

“You know you could just move in with me?” Bucky offered 

“Don’t be silly Bucky, we’ve spoken about this” She said and Bucky stopped himself from starting an argument by pressing his lips to hers. 

— — — 

The next few weeks were tricky. Y/N had started picking up more shifts than she could count which lessened her time to do anything; most of all see Bucky. 

When one fateful day put Y/N’s life into a tailspin, 

“Y/N could you come into my office when you get a moment please?” Her boss’s voice cut through the noise, and Y/N felt a panic run through her body, 

“I’ll come now” She said quickly, hurrying behind the shorter lady, “is everything ok?” 

“Take a seat Y/N” She said, Y/N knew this wasn’t good, she never asked her to take a seat before, this had got to be bad news. 

“Have I done something wrong?” 

“No, Y/N you’re one of the best workers we have here” She said taking a deep breath “but we can’t afford to keep you on, with prices and wages going up we’re cutting down to less staff members and well it’s only fair that we let you go first. You’ve got enough experience to get another job quickly whereas the others don’t” 

“You mean the others are cheaper because they are younger?” Y/N said noticing the true meaning behind her words. 

“That isn’t what we are doing Y/N” her boss spoke halfheartedly 

“When do I leave?” Y/N asked dejectedly, knowing it was a loosing battle 

“Today’s your last shift, you are let go without holiday pay or leave notice” She said passing Y/N an envelope “All the necessary documents are in here, please hand your keys in at the end of the shift” 

“No need to wait” Y/N said, pulling her work keys out her bag and putting them on the desk. Picking up the envelope, Y/N walked out. 

The walk home was a cold one, not only because of the biting wind but Y/N felt empty, numb, like she’d just been caught in the rain. She wanted to call Bucky, but after her neglect of him she knew that he was probably mad at her and calling him to cry would not be the best way to go. However, her ringtone cut Y/N’s moping thoughts short, 

“Hello?” 

“Doll, oh thank god. Steve just told me he passed you on the street, he’s turning around to pick you up so don’t go anywhere. What’s happened?” Bucky asked 

“Nothing Buck, I’ll talk to you later, tell Steve not to worry” 

“No, he’s picking you up and you can come here or go home then come here, or just head home if that’s what you want but I’d rather Steve did it than you walk yourself doll okay?” He said 

“It’s going to happened whatever I say right?” Y/N chuckled halfheartedly, the lack of reply on Bucky’s end confirmed it “I’ll wait for Steve” 

“Good girl, I’ll see you soon” He said ending the call quickly. 

As if on cue Steve’s car pulled into view, 

“Hey Y/N, Buck’s waiting for you” He said opening the door for her, 

“Thanks Steve” 

After a few quiet minutes Y/N answered the question which was burning in Steve's mind, 

“I got fired” She said quietly, 

“They did what? Oh Buck won’t be happy, how dare they” Steve said forcefully, 

“They can’t afford me apparently” Y/N chuckled sadly 

“Bullshit” 

“Promise you won’t tell Bucky?” She asked 

“I won’t lie to him if he asks” Steve said “But I’ll divert attention so he doesn’t ask” Steve agreed quietly 

— — — — — 

Y/N had avoided Bucky for another two weeks, she hadn’t meant to. But she had been sending CV’s, babysitting, dog walking and selling small handmade bits online. Anything possible to make some money, she was yet to receive an interview or even any interest. It seemed that everyone was full of employees or was hiring younger staff, there was no place for Y/N. 

She had been dodging her landlord phone calls, and the electricity company and even a few others who she knew were angry that she hadn’t paid. Stretching her legs out wide on the floor she took a minute away from her laptop screen and picked up her phone. 

“I’m on my way, be there in 15” Bucky had texted around 15 minutes ago, Y/N let out a panicked sigh and started picking up the mess around her to try and make herself look presentable for Bucky, she had to keep up appearances. 

“Doll?” Bucky called through her apartment, 

“In here” She replied quickly shoving some dirty clothes at the bottom of her wardrobe, 

“Hey doll” He said softly pulling her in for a kiss, not seeming to notice her dishevelled state. 

“Hey Bucky” she pressed a kiss to his lips, something she had missed dearly. 

“I need to talk to you” Bucky said pulling her down to sit on the bed, she sat down with his hands gripped in hers as if he was about to disappear. 

“I know I’ve been awful Buck, I haven’t spoken to you and I’ve avoided you, please don’t be mad, I’ve just been so stressed and—”

Bucky quickly cut her off “I’m not breaking up with you Y/N” 

“You’re not?” 

“No, doll I’m not” 

“Oh” 

“I know what’s going on Y/N” he said sincerely 

“Nothing’s going on” 

“Doll I know” 

“Bucky nothing is going on”

“You got fired, you’ve been trying to find another job, you’ve been dog walking, which I’m not happy with because that’s dangerous when you don’t know the dog or the owner, and you’ve been selling your adorably little crochet animals online” Bucky said 

“You got someone to follow me” 

“You started shutting me out” Bucky justified 

“Fair enough” 

“Did I miss anything?” Bucky asked 

“No” Y/N said her eyes welling up with tears, she let go on Bucky’s hand to hide her face in them, 

“Oh doll, come here” Bucky said wrapping his arms around her, letting her cry all her stresses and troubles away onto his shirt, he knew once she had cried they would be able to talk through options properly. 

“I’m sorry” Y/N said with a sniffle 

“Can I finish what I was saying earlier?” Bucky asked, Y/N nodded silently “I’ve paid off all your debts, I did the landlord, electricity, water and that loan you took out, you can pay me back if you want to if you have the money, if not it’s my birthday present to you I know you won’t accept it any other way” He said 

“Bucky please”

“It’s already done” 

“I should be able to do this better,I  should be able to pay my fucking bills” 

“No” Bucky said calmly 

“No?” 

“No you’re not doing that. You are doing as best as you can. And I refuse to listen to that shit. Now put on a nice dress, we’re going out to eat” 

— — — — 

That night when Bucky and Y/N were laying in bed cuddled up to each other, Y/N decided to be brave 

“Bucky?” 

“Yes doll?” 

“Do you think I could move in with you?” She asked pressing a kiss to his chest “I don’t think I want to do this alone anymore” 

“Doll, I’d be delighted” 

[luveline]

gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing

thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k

Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated. 

You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong. 

"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?" 

"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks. 

Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach. 

"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong." 

"I'm just trying to figure something out." 

This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance. 

You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein. 

He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?" 

That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop. 

"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something. 

"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself." 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention." 

He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights. 

Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done? 

You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time. 

I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again. 

You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears. 

This is all so messy, and it's your fault. 

I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me. 

You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid. 

—

The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help. 

"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?" 

He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go." 

He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention. 

Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up. 

He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell. 

Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you. 

"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it." 

Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry." 

Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel. 

Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug. 

He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes  

He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon. 

His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two. 

"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset " 

"I'm an idiot–" 

"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"

"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–" 

"I shouldn't have–" 

"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away. 

Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up." 

He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into? 

"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me." 

Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says. 

"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile. 

"It's not okay." 

"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even." 

"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked." 

"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?" 

"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back." 

You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better." 

"I know." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you." 

What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful. 

"Does it look really bad?" 

"N–no. You look really pretty," he says. 

"Are my eyes puffy?"

A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already." 

"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to." 

Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid." 

"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask. 

Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not." 

You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure." 

"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."

"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want." 

"Can I give you a hug?" he asks. 

You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it. 

"That feels nice," you mumble. 

He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?" 

"Don't," you warn. 

He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?" 

"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it. 

"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry." 

Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.

[mistymisfit]

Dirty A-Z headcanon game  

MINORS DNI!!!

Implied that reader is shorter than Jason. Most are GN reader, except the pet names (princess and ma) but other than no specified gender :)

My personal headcanons. Sorry everyone, I don't think he'd be all that kinky, he just needs some affection fr. I have a Dick Grayson version on my drafts, and he is a slut so wait for that one lol.

Finished this draft trying to get out of writer's block, I don't think it worked lol.

edit: fixed some typos

A - Alone time (how do they get off when they’re all by themselves? do they watch porn, is it all in their imagination, do they jerk off, do they use toys?)

On nights where he spends too much time away from you, and he starts missing your your kisses, your warmth, your jokes, your hands on him, and his on you, he's forced to take out the big guns. That encrypted (mentioned in point P) folder he keeps as protected as he can for your safety. It has a few videos, some of them more intense, others more goofy with you two laughing. The one he watches the most is the one that begins with him telling you to say something to check the sound and you reply with "I love you" a sweet smile on your lips. The camera's then hurriedly left on the nightstand, and your giggling ensues with him kissing you all over your face.

B - Bondage (do they like it? do they not? do they prefer to be the one being tied or the one doing the tying?)

Absolutely against being the one tied up, past traumas and all, he needs to be able to move for his peace of mind. Completely opposite opinion if you're the one being tied, especially if he's tying your wrists with his costume's garrote (ribbons).

C - Crying (is it a turn on? a turn off? do they cry during sex? have they cried during sex? what was the reason?)

Very much into you crying, and he definitely feels conflicted about it. He wants nothing more than seeing you happy and safe, so why is his dick getting hard when he sees tears streaming down your pretty face? Also, yes, he cries during sex!!! It's not always, but sex is such a vulnerable moment for him--something he struggles with very much, so he can't help but shed a few tears. And you're also into it. Truly matching each other's freaks.

D - Dominance (do they prefer to dominate, or be dominated? do they have experience as a Dom? Do they have a Dom that they trust already? What kind of things do they enjoy as/with their Dominant partner?)

Prefers dominating, low-key a control freak, and is obsessed with the amount of trust you have on him. If he's letting you take control, it's in a more "let me take care of you, baby" way. On some occasions, more often than he'd like to admit he enjoys it more when you both refuse to let the other take charge, usually happens after an argument (see next point). He'd never admit it but he likes that more than anything.

E - Extra info (any other fetishes? feet? leather? role playing? blood? fantasies that they might want to experience not on this list?)

Marking: He would never hurt you, really. But there's something about his teeth leaving a mark on your skin, the whimper you let out every time he does it, and the soft kiss he leaves behind after he's done. God forbid he draws blood, it drives him up the wall. It's only fair game that he'd let you do it too, catching himself proudly smirking when he catches a glimpse of the scratches you left across his back. Or the time you bit his shoulder as you came, he followed shortly after. He's never lost his composure that fast before.

Role-Playing: It started with you joking once, playing damsel in distress and acting like he'd just saved you from a life-threatening situation, but it awoke something in him. Something something about calming his anxieties about not being able to keep you safe. He asked if you could do it more often, you nodded excitedly. If you knew it'd get him so riled up, you'd put yourself in danger earlier. Would love to fuck in his Red Hood get up but he thinks it'd be too impersonal to you--you'd agree in a second if he asked.

Praise kink: He needs you to tell him he's good, that you want him. You told him "I need you, Jay," and he's never taken his clothes off so fast. Most times it's not sexual; he just loves hearing you tell him he's doing a good job.

Make up sex: Jason likes seeing you mad, something about how feisty you get and how you could be as stubborn as him turns him the fuck on. He likes how rough you both get, gripping each other's clothes, hair pulling and biting harder than what you two usually do. Sometimes he starts arguments for this sole reason.

F - Food play (do they like using food in the bedroom? are there any foods they prefer to use during sex or foreplay? any they’d like to try?)

He got hit with fear toxin one time, you spent a couple of days taking care of him until he came down from a nasty fever. A side effect to the antidote Alfred and Bruce couldn't work out yet. You spoon-fed him soup, and he swears he fell in love with you all over again. If he hadn't been so sick he would've knocked over the plate and kissed you senseless.

Also! He likes watching you eat whatever he cooks. Sometimes he waits for you at home with dinner ready, well aware you always come back home starving. Most times, too hungry to cook a decent meal. So watching you sigh when you take your first bite, telling him how good it is, how much of a good boyfriend he's for doing this for you, his blush reaches his ears. He's just winning his way to your bedroom heart with food.

G - Group sex (would they have a threeway? four? an orgy? do they put on a show for spectators? or do they like to keep it just between them and their partner?)

Another no for him. Jason's not good at sharing, he's way too possessive to share your attention. And honestly, it'd hurt his ego a little bit if you were to suggest it. He's insecure, so his mind would instantly go to "I'm not enough"

H - Humiliation (does degradation and insults get them hot? do they get off on humiliating someone else? what kind of humiliation is good for them?)

See point E. He's too in love to call you a bitch. He's not exactly opposed to the idea of having kids with you someday if you wanted to, and he just can't imagine calling the future mother of his kids a whore. However, he's not past calling you a "fucking brat" if you keep on teasing him or using a mocking tone every once in a while like "Aw, is it too much? Thought you said you were a big girl"

I - Impact play (here’s where talking about things like spanking, paddles, canes, floggers and the like.)

Not specifically into spanking but has slapped your ass before, heart skipping a beat when his hand left an imprint on your skin. You could awake something in him if you tried, for sure.

J - Jelly (what kind of lube are they using? is it flavored? have they tasted it? do they prefer to use something other than real lube during sex?)

He's a big boy, so you could imagine what he's got under his pants is proportionate to the rest of him. He'd use it to make sure he won't hurt you, but he's more old fashioned prefering making you cum a couple times to prep you.

K - Kissing (what parts of their body do they like having kissed? what parts of their partner do they enjoy kissing? do they like leaving marks / having marks left on them?)

He's a hungry kisser, knocks the air out of your lungs, grabbing your face, knocking things over as you take a step back not to fall type of kiss. Tied in with C, he likes kissing the tears off your face. Most random spots he likes to kiss are the back of your knees and your ankles when he puts them on his shoulders. If he's sitting down and you're standing in between his legs, petting his head, he'll most likely kiss your stomach.

He has a spot, his pulse point on his neck, not easy to reach considering his height, so he has to be in a horizontal position for you to reach. You kiss him there, and he melts instantly. And his back, if you manage to cuddle as the big spoon and start pressing kisses across his back, he could pass out right there. Matter of fact, any kiss from you makes him melt, he's touch starved, so any contact you initiate flusters him.

L - Lighting (are the lights on? off? do they have some kind of mood lighting set up?)

At first, off. You have to work your way until he's comfortable enough to have some dim lights on. He's too afraid to scare you off with his scars.

M - Masochism (do they like pain? scratching? biting? being bossed around? spoken down to? choked?)

Scratching, biting, are all fair game with him. He's a bit feral like that. Doesn't like being spoken down; his ego's fragile enough from all his own self-hatred. Being bossed around? He's almost incapable of following orders, this man had no figure of authority before Bruce when he was a kid.

N - Not yet (orgasm delay? orgasm denial? do they tell their partner not to touch themselves for a certain amount of time or under certain circumstances? do they delay or deny other things like bathroom usage or food? do they need to beg first? do they like being denied / delayed?)

He's tried, seriously, but all you had to do was beg a little and look at him with those glassy eyes, and his resolve faded away fast. He's unable to say no to you; you know it and often use it to your advantage.

O - Outdoor sex (have they ever done it in public? would they? where?)

Yes, on his car, the bat-mobile he stole once just out of spite (Bruce was well aware he took it- and traumatized to find out his adoptive son's reasons) and against his bike on an empty parking lot (that one was pure wish fulfillment for him)

P - Photography (are cameras allowed in the bedroom? do they send nudes? do they ask for nudes? would they ever record themselves having sex / being caught up in a sexual act?)

For safety reasons he doesn't keep any pictures or videos on any phone (he's got many). HOWEVER, he has a couple of encrypted-not even Babs wouldn't be able to hack- videos of you two for times he stays away from you for long.

Q - Quiet please (what’s the volume like in the bedroom? are they quiet? do they scream? do they like a loud partner? do they prefer if their partner is more soft spoken?)

He whimpers!!! he acts though but he's a whimperer!!! It takes a while before you warm him up to make more noise, he was shy at first. On the other hand if you were quiet he'd worry, he need some encouragement to know he's doing good.

R - Routine (do they have a routine when it comes to picking up one night stands? do they have scheduled sex with their partner? are things spontaneous or planned ahead of time?)

Jason's not really one for one night stands, he has problems with vulnerability--and intimacy as a consequence. He's more of a spur of the moment guy; everything else he does is planned-- stopping some villains' plans, striking a drug trade deal--, so he's glad he gets to be more spontaneous with you.

Once you're in an established relationship, and he knows you're okay with him being blunt, he'd straight up ask you. "Can we have sex when I get back home?" you got a text while he was out on patrol; you blushed and giggled before telling him "yeah" and "wake me up if I fall asleep." he replied with a smiley emoji.

"Babe?" His hands held your hips, correcting your posture. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body behind you, and there's no reason why he should be sticking this close to you. He insisted on teaching you some self-defense moves, so now you were both sweaty, the furniture in your shared apartment moved so you could have more space to move freely. Sure, he could've brought you down to the cave, but this was more private and intimate. You hummed in response, eyes looking up at him. "Wanna ruin the carpet?"

Or he catches you bending over, your arms resting on the kitchen island, mindless watching something on your phone. He stands behind you, hands grabbing your hips. You look back, and you're about to ask him what he's doing when he wins, saying "Haven't had you like this in a while, you busy right now?"

S - Sleepy sex (do they give oral to wake their partner up? do they like receiving oral to wake up? do they like fucking their partner awake? being fucked awake? how about being fucked to sleep at night? do they have lazy morning sex?)

Being fucked awake would probably be too overwhelming for him. And no matter how many times you told him it's okay, he probably wouldn't like that doing it to you. BUT he's very much waking you up kissing you so you could have lazy, half asleep, sex. In his head, it feels extra intimate, even more if he does it in the attempt to make you stay in bed with him a little longer.

T - Top or bottom (self explanatory…)

U - Underwear (what kind of underwear do they put on in the morning, if any at all… do they own any sexy underwear or lingerie?)

In your opinion, the sexiest underwear he could wear is a towel right after he showers, hair still dripping water onto his chest. It makes you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his uncovered torso as he looks for clean clothes in his drawer. You stand on your tip toes to press your lips between his shoulder blades. He turns around, smirking and already knows exactly what you want.

"We'll get the bed wet" He reasons

"Don't care" You smile, fingers tracing his v line stopping where the towel starts.

V - Voyeurism (do they like to watch, or are they more hands on? are they more of an exhibitionist?)

Wouldn't like anyone seeing you two in that situation. Even if he convinced you to have sex in a risky place most times, he's already gotten rid of any possible outcome where you two end up on a certain list. Also watching? He can barely keep his hands to himself around, in a sexual way or not. He's just touch starved like that.

W - Water (pool sex? bath / shower sex? are they into watersports at all?)

I may be biased but I don't really think he'd be into watersports lmao.

Shower sex is a yes, he particularly loves when he comes back from patrol and you get in the shower with him, helping wash the blood off. He's always a bit shaken when he comes home, thinking about his own mortality and how fragile life is, and it ends up with something else. Just to feel alive. Jason's very fond of moments where you run him a bath, in the hopes of calming his nerves and the soreness in his muscles. You'd sit next to him, outside the tub, washing his hair. He'd always manage to find a way to convince you into getting in and riding him.

X - X-dressing (do they crossdress as a part of teasing / foreplay? does crossdressing turn them on? turn their partner on? do they prefer to do it or watch their partner crossdress instead? do they use other costumes? cat ears, tails, etc?)

Not exactly cross dressing lol. But if he catches wearing any of his clothes, it's over for him. You put on his Red Hood muzzle once, and he couldn't get it out of his head for a month straight.

Y - Yes, Master (what kinds of names are used during sex? do they like being called master / mistress, daddy, etc…? what names do they call their partner?)

Him to you: Sweet pet names, most used are princess, pretty, baby, him calling you ma with a breathless sighs makes you want to jump his bones--again.

You to him: Handsome, if you want to see his entire face turn red. He also likes hearing you moan his name. My love, you called him this once while sitting on his lap and felt his attitude change, clearing his throat, and moving you away from his crotch.

Z - Zones (what are their erogenous zones? what spots on their body should be touched, bitten, kissed, when someone wants to get them in the mood?)

Like mentioned before, his pulse point on his neck. If he's mad at you, all you have to do is trace your fingers under his shirt and over the hem of his pants, and he's already forgotten why he was pissed off to begin with. You were play fighting with him once and dragged your teeth through his bicep, threatening to bite if he didn't let you go, he didn't silently waiting for you to sink your teeth into his skin. Even hoped for a scar, a permanent mark that didn't come from violence but affection.

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt 6

Bruce's eye twitched as he forced the well-worn grin on his face.

It was a subtle thing, one that Tim would have thought he had imagined if he didnt know better, but he did.

Across from the both of them was Vlad Masters, he was a tall man, taller than Tim but still shorter than Bruce, all of him screamed rich villian, that is other than the way the second Bruce made a comment off hand about the Gotham Knights football team.

It was then the cruel looking man melted away, and Vlad Masters devolved into a chattering 40 something that knows far too much about the Green Bay Packers.

"Oh if I could go back in time and see that touch down again I could die a happy man" Vlad said with a wistful looking smile on his face, eyes glazed over in memories before he seemed to snap out of it and shake his head, a light dusting of pink came across his cheeks, lighting up his papery skin.

"Ah...do please forgive me...I seem to have gotten a tad bit carried away..." Tim bit back a scoff as he leaned back into his chair, they had been talking for almost a full hour and nearly all of it was Vlad ranting.

Bruce let out a small chuckle that sounded fake even to Tim, "No worry Mister Masters! Perhaps next time the Knights go against the Packers we can share a box!"

Tim knew this was to help sell the whole 'Brucie' act, but he still couldn't keep the cringe on his face, "B? Um...the Knights are a minor leauge team they...ugh forget it." Rubbing at his eyes, Tim cut off the words that Masters looked ready to say, "What was it again that you asked for a meeting Mister Masters? Something about..."

Looking down to his tablet, Tim sent a check in timer, if Vlad was to strike it would be soon "some sort of collaboration? With your subsidiary Axion Labs?"

Masters seemed a little taken back from Tim's thinly vailed bluntness but pushed onward, "Of course, my dear employees at the labs have been working on an interesting new energy source! You see it's fully green and has a positive net energy production." He paused for a moment and a sneer like condescending grin got plastered on his face, "That is Mister Wayne, meaning it produces more energy then we put in it."

Bruce's eyes crinkled as his cheesy grin could only grew more, "Thank you! I was just about to ask, my dear boy Tim here is far better at understanding all that...wiggley wobbly science things!"

(Liar) Tim thought before sending Masters a bashful smile, "I know enough that what your saying is astounding to hear...why come to Wanye Enterprises with this?"

Masters grin was predatory as he spoke smoothly "Well~ Lex and I have a...bit of a history so I couldn't possibly be able to work this with him, Queen Industries are more biotechincal in nature, while WE is far more wide spread! Not only do you have a tech division, but also medical, defense and mechanical divisions!"

Things were clicking in Tims mind, Masters wanted to use WE to distribute, make them stake their own reputation for what Masters was peddling.

Bruce's persona was slipping slightly, his blue eyes steely as he looked Masters down, "We will need a working concept before we can press onward for anything else."

Masters kept the grin on for a second longer before it slipped, "Of course, I will go above that and even send my two top scientists here to demonstrate-"

He was cut off by a shrill ringing coming from Tim's tablet, making him wince as he rushed to imput the code for the check in timer, sending the man a small smile Tim spoke, "So sorry about that, I thought I put that on silent...but do look at the time Bruce, We have a meeting with Lucius in twenty minutes, did you get those slides done?"

Sending Bruce a sideways glance, Tim watched as the man stiffened but shook his head, "I did not. I am sorry Vladdie, but we will have to cut this short, I am sure you know how many meetings it takes to run a company...but please, do meet with Maddie my receptionist to schedule those scientists of yours to come over yes?"

Tim could have sworn he saw a blood vessel pop as Masters hissed a little before he gave a terse nod, "Of course...Maddie you said? Yes...I do think I will speak to her." The man seemed to calm rapidly at the name, and seemed to almost float out of the meeting room.

---

Bruce let his persona fall the same time his head fell into his hands, the heels of his palms rubbing at his eyes.

There was silence in the meeting room, he could hear Tim's fingers pattering against the tempered glass of his tablet, and the soft chatter of the office from the outside and the ever faint sound of wind whipping around the high rise tower.

Picking his head up, he looked to Tim, doing a few hand motions, "DO. BUG. SWEEP" Getting a nod in response, Bruce went over the meeting.

Something was definitely strange about Masters, he was only 48 and yet fully gray, his skin was waxy and looked translucent, deathly pale, he had a cain but didn't have a limp.

Not to mention a seemingly tense history with Lex Luthor, to the point he would seek out WE instead of Lex for his seemingly miracle energy source and-

"Clear B, not a bug in place. "

"Hn" Bruce grunted in response, trying to get his brain back on track.

The energy source was another thing that was sticking out to Bruce, it sounded far too good to be true, it broke the laws of physics to-

"Bruce? What do you think of him? Suspect or...?" Tim spoke again, and Bruce let out a small sigh, his deductions would have to wait till later.

"I think we will need to monitor him closely, I have Drs Fentons are his lead researchers..."

---

Scrunching up his face, Danny stuffed his face into his elbow before sneezing thrice, groaning for a moment before he straightened up, rubbing at his nose, the Halfa came over to the sink in the kitchen of the Diner.

It was his second day as an over night chef and he was honestly having fun? Like cooking is so much cooler when the food wasn't actively reanimated and trying to kill him.

The diner was at a new place, now it was on the old rail ways that ran through Park Row, or how the people that lived there called it Crime Alley.

He had been nervous at first, because he had felt the familiar shiver of entering another beings haunt, but thankfully the diner was stationed just out of the haunts bounds.

Biting back a little yawn, Danny flipped a page in Lunch Ladys, only to see the recipe shift and change, going from a tuna casserole to one for a classic chili.

Blinking a few times at the book, he sighed, "Well alright then." Taking note of the ingredients, Danny drummed his fingers in the book, it was obviously more than just a simple cook book, with it, you know, actually shifting and changing each page.

Shaking his head, Danny straightened up and stopped leaning over the counter, "So...Spooktastical Chili? No that sounds dumb...Cursed Cauldron Chili? Closer..." thinking out loud, Danny set a massive pot over the stove, flipping the flame on as he work shopped cheesy names for his new dish.

---

Jason had an itch.

The kind that just wouldn't go away no matter how hard you scratched at it.

The problem he couldn't get even a second of relief since the itch was in his chest, right dab in the middle.

Rubbing at it as he groaned, Jason rolled off his bed and stood, it was late, he had finished patrol an hour ago and he just...

Felt the itch to do something, to go see something that was just right out of reach.

Sighing as he stumbled around his room, grabbing discarded jeans and an old hoodie with the arms cut off, slipping them on as he left the small bedroom of the safe house.

Stopping in the tiny kitchen, Jason did his best Bat glare (tm) at the empty refrigerator, letting out a grumble as he slammed the door closed.

"Fuckin...shit." flipping the cabinet doors open he glared at the small tub of mostly empty peanut butter and sleeve of crackers that were clearly ripped into by a rat.

"Fuckity fuck fuck..." sure there were spices, so many spices, but he wanted to eat, not cook, Alfred had spoiled that feeling into him through many years.

Slamming them closed as well, Jason growled as he stomped over to his boots, toeing them on before he stormed out of his safe house, fumbling with his keys to lock it behind him.

And with that he set out on the Alley, letting his feet carry him through the streets, he waved at some of the friendlier working girls and boys, but kept walking.

It took a moment for him to realize where he was going, to that little mom and pop diner that closed years ago, they used to give him left overs when he was still one of the dirty street rats trying to live...

"Since fucking when did the lights in that place turn on?" Stopping outside of what he had thought was a clossed down diner, Jason squinted at the banner stretched above the doorway.

"Big C's diner? No...old guys name was like Tony, so ain't their kids that wanted to take over..."

Before Jason could stop himself, his hand was already around the door handle, and he was pulling it open.

[kentopedia]

I loooveee the way u write nanami 🥺🥺 was wondering if u could do a mini fic on nanami x reader but when they were in high school :O I feel reader would constantly flirt with him but he stays unbothered until she stops 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 thank uuuu

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS — nanami kento

omg thank u so so much, you're very sweet <3 i think i was taking requests when you asked this, so im so so so sorry i took forever to answer :( this isn't exactly what you said but i hope it's close to what you had in mind <3

contents: sfw, high school nanami & reader, mutual pining, silly teenage emotions, fluff, it's not even really romantic but they're best friends that won't admit they have a crush on each other, reader is shorter than him, gn!reader — 1.2k

“you can’t stay mad at me forever, kento.”

your best friend — or so you thought — stayed silent as you walked through the abandoned warehouse, searching for the curses that needed exorcising. so far, they’d evaded you, just as kento had all of your questions.

he glanced over at you, mouth drawn into its usual line. “i can if i want.”

“oh really?” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you continued forward, following him through the building. “are you fifteen or five? you’re supposed to be the mature one!”

kento rolled his eyes, but didn’t dignify that with a verbal response, letting his blade dangle loosely at his side. an odd sound echoed through the hallways, but it wasn’t quite menacing enough to be a curse.

you groaned. “don’t you know everyone will just keep pairing us up on missions until we work this out?” if kento was going to continue to be a pain, you wouldn’t allow him the silence he wanted so desperately. he’d been ignoring you for over a week. “haibara’s lucky. he gets to go with the second years.”

nanami glanced over his shoulder, raising his eyebrow, before looking ahead once more. “you mean he’s lucky he gets to go with gojo.”

though you weren’t sure if it was supposed to be an insult to you or not, you laughed. “maybe.”

“yeah,” kento scoffed. “i thought so.”

the tone was flatter than usual, even for someone like kento, and you raised your eyebrows, letting the words settle between you.

“you’re being so sour. you know, you never even told me what i did wrong. you’re so mad at me, kento, and i don’t even really know why.”

kento watched his feet take one step, then another, the opposite ones moving ahead. he’d grown a lot over the summer — a fact you’d somehow only realized. since when had he been that much taller than you?

“i’m not mad,” he finally settled on. a weak argument as to why he’d been ignoring you for the duration of your mission, and the week before.

you frowned, chewing the inside of your mouth. although kento had a kind heart, you knew how nasty he could be to people he didn’t like. you didn’t want to be one of those on the list. “kento… i really am sorry. if i’ve done something wrong.”

the tension drained from his shoulders. he sighed. “you haven’t.”

despite wanting to push the issue further, you let it die, deciding to listen to the silence in case of any curses. though, it had been nearly half an hour, and you hadn’t found any yet. you were beginning to think that maybe your teacher had led you astray.

“can i ask you something?” kento, after ten minutes, finally interrupted the quiet again. and though that sort of phrase was never a good sign, you would’ve taken anything to get him talking to you again.

“of course, kento.”

he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, seeming shy, almost. had it not been so dark, you would have seen the slight tint of pink on his cheeks, that you only assumed was there to begin with.

“what is it about gojo that you like so much?”

you blinked. “what do you mean?”

“you’re… interested in him, aren’t you? like that?” kento shifted awkwardly, holding his body as if it wasn’t quite his own. “i mean, i just assumed…”

all over, you great hot, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, a wave of dread heaping onto your stomach. “you think i have a crush on gojo?”

“don’t you?”

you thought about it for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “i don’t know. maybe.”

“maybe?” kento pinched his eyebrows together. “what the hell kind of answer is that? you either do or you don’t.”

“i think he’s...” you stumbled over the words, not really sure when you’d started talking to nanami kento about these sorts of things. the words tasted sour in your mouth. “well, i suppose he’s attractive, isn’t he? he’s certainly charming. he makes me laugh.”

“you’re always flirting with him," kento said skeptically.

you shrugged. "i'm just teasing. if you consider that flirting, then i guess i am."

“hm. you sound like you think you’re supposed to be interested in him, just because he’s gojo.”

that raised a small laugh out of you. “maybe you’re right. i think i might just be interested in people i know won’t ever like me back.” kento’s eyes flashed, and before he could say anything, lips parted, you continued. “but what do i know about anything, anyway? teenagers are supposed to be dumb like that, aren’t they?”

kento frowned, brown eyes softer than you’d seen in awhile. “i don’t think you’re dumb.”

“thanks.” for some reason, that made you bashful, darting your eyes away as you smiled at the ground. “have you ever had a crush on anyone, kento?”

he gave you a tiny little smile, poking you in the temple, before repeating your words from earlier. “i don’t know. maybe.”

“you’re so stupid.”

kento laughed, then, a light noise that was more familiar to you than it was to a lot of others. “you know, if it makes you feel better, i think gojo likes you. really, i do. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes when you laugh at his jokes. geto told us. he talks about you to him all the time.”

and though you’d expected the words to send a wave of glee over you, the sort of silly emotion that came with a teenage crush, you didn’t feel excited as you should've. perhaps because satoru had never been the one you wanted.

“gojo just likes to be admired. besides, everyone likes when people laugh at their jokes. that's not special.” you kicked at the floor. “anyway, geto’s probably just telling you all that so you’ll tell me and i’ll make a fool of myself in front of them. that would really make them laugh.”

kento frowned, contemplative. “i don’t think he would do that.”

he wouldn’t. it just seemed the only good way to diverge the conversation.

you threw your hands up, expelling a loud sigh. “well… whatever. honestly, it doesn't matter. i don’t think i even want a boyfriend.”

kento gawked at you for a moment, lips slightly parted, before he shook his head, another snort of a laugh leaving him. “you’re so confusing.”

“you should be relieved. wouldn’t you be miserable if i started dating gojo?” you were only teasing him, bumping his shoulder with your own, a playful grin on your face.

but kento’s voice was gentle when he returned his answer, and the relief was evident on his face. “i would.”

whether you knew it then, or not, that little confession had changed the course of your life. you brushed it off easily, gripping your cursed tool tightly as you turned the corner again.

“hey kento?”

“what? the curses are going to sneak up on us if—”

“you’re my best friend, by the way. even if i was dating gojo, you’d still be my best friend. you’ll always be my best friend.” you stopped him, serious now. “no matter what happens.”

kento smiled softly, barely there at all. he squeezed your hand in return. “i hope so.”

[nicholasluvbot]

EVERYTIME WE TOUCH ( &TEAM )

. . . o r ✶ &team when their s/o's love language is physical touch !

genre. gn!reader , est. rel , fluff wc. 2K ( around 200 words per member ) warnings. reader is shorter than k , jo is called 'pumpkin' (affectionately) requested. 'heyy i love your works sm <3 could you write headcanons for &team when their partner's love language is physical touch? that is, only if you want to! thank you <3 note. count how many times i've said 'kisses' for maki

— MASTERLIST !

K

loves it. loves it so so much. would let you cling to him like a koala and carry you around with him if you wanted, no questions asked.

when he first notices your love lang, he's delighted cause he loves physical touch just as much. "it's like we're meant to be!" he says.

gives you long hugs after bad days and never pulls away first. and since he's so much taller than you, expect soft kisses on the top of your head all the time.

doesn't mind when you give him bear hugs and refuse to let go in the morning, even if it means that he'll be late for work.

especially loves it when you're affectionate and touchy in public, or around the members, because that way everyone knows that he's yours.

his favorite moments are those when he makes you laugh so hard that you tumble into his arms, clutching your sides cause he's so funny that it hurts, and wraps his arms around you in a warm embrace to steady you. he's happy that he can make you laugh like this, because your laughter is the best sound in the world.

FUMA

would rarely ever initiate physical touch, but he loves it when you do and never rejects it.

you go for a hug before he leaves for work and he wraps his big arms around you in a bone-crushing hug that makes you want to never pull away and stays on your mind all day.

your hands are cold? he'll hold them till they're warm (lowkey doesn't wanna let go even after they're warmed up, but also doesn't want to come off as clingy so he reluctantly lets go). you feel tired? his shoulder is yours to rest your head on. you want attention when he's playing games? his lap is free for you to come and sit on anytime (plays with your hair or gives back rubs when you're feeling tired).

doesn't mind when you sleep with your head on his chest and wouldn't complain when you keep it that way all night, even if it makes his body sore the next day.

big baby who sulks when you're not being as touchy and follows you around asking questions like, "are you upset?" and "i'm sorry if i did something to make you mad, i promise i'll fix it."

and then you just can't take it anymore so you jump in his arms and smother him with kisses all over his face cause he's the most adorable boyfriend ever.

NICHOLAS

such a tease about it.

like you two would get into a silly argument over something stupid, and then when you go to him for cuddles, he's all like, "can't go a single day without my cuddles, can you sweetheart?" but wraps his arm around you anyways, pulling you closer.

always has his arm around your shoulder or on your lower back, guiding you through crowds or in social gatherings just so that everyone knows that you're the love of his life. it isn't much, but it makes your heart flutter even though he's done it countless times. it's just the effect he has on you.

tries to act nonchalant when he's doing something random and you just come cuddle him or snuggle against him, but inside he's all giddy.

"you know, you're pretty cute when you're all cuddly like this," he says with a smirk, trying to act like his heart isn't beating hard and fast. but you see him go red when you tilt your head to face him and say, "and you're pretty cute when you're not being a tease."

loves loves loves kisses. wants to start his day with one, and if he doesn't get it, turns into a grump until he gets a thousand kisses all over his face.

another one who loves it when you're touchy while the members are around, cause he gets to brag about it later like, "i'm literally dating the best person ever and you're not." (sometimes he has to hold back giggles cause, "aren't you just so adorable.")

EUIJOO

this boy is so clueless at the beginning of the relationship, its endearing. (but also kinda confusing)

when you first wrap your arms around him, he's just standing there awkwardly... he doesn't know what to do with his hands so they're just limp against his side... and his heart is beating so fast cause he adores you so much but doesn't know how to express it so he just ends up embarrassing himself (heart eyes from you but he doesn't notice)

you stop being as touchy, cause maybe he doesn't like it that much. but when he notices that you're distancing yourself he's just like :(( do you not love him anymore :(( are you upset about something :((

asks the members for advice and he gets laughed at (my baby), but probably ends up getting advice from the younger members (i feel like maki gives the best advice second to k)

and when he realises he's like oh!

after dating him for a while he becomes just as affectionate as you, cause if you like it and it makes you happy, he's gonna do it. for you.

also becomes a teeny tiny bit clingy as your relationship progresses, but when confronted about it, he'll strongly deny.

asks for kisses every minute. you ask him to open a jar or reach the top shelf, he'll do it if he gets a kiss in return. you want to know the date? okay, but you'll have to kiss him first.

sulks if he gets less than 10 hugs per day, and the only way to make up to him is hold him while he falls asleep and playing with his hair while placing soft kisses on his forehead. (you gladly do it)

YUMA

another tease. (but is actually more clingy than you)

whenever you hug him, you're immediately met with a smirk on his face and a teasing comment, but also doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you and crushing you between them. (also never pulls away first)

also did i mention how clingy he is? needs to have his arms around all the time, needs kisses whenever you're around him. at some point you get tired of his demands for affection, even though its your love language (no you don't)

would never admit but loves being babied so so much.

turns red when he complains and you coo at him, bonus giggles if you stroke his chin, that boy is down bad for you

needs you to stroke his hair whenever you're hanging around the house. will literally go crazy if you don't do it.

the first time you ran your hands through his hair, his eyes fluttered shut as he sighed at your touch and shit, he was in love.

not big on pda, but holds your hand under tables and in crowds, or just has his arm around your shoulders, tracing circles or playing with your hair.

oh and if you ever tease him back about how he's also a softie for you, no cuddles for you that day!

JO

doesn't hate it. doesn't love it.

would never, i mean never, initiate it. but he's all yours you can do whatever you want with him.

you wanna cuddle? his arms are always open. you wanna nomnomnom his cheeks? uhmm... sure.

your life-sized teddy bear. you can go and hug him, kiss him whenever you want, and he doesn't complain

very awkward at first, but as he gets comfortable around you, presses his cheek against your when you hug him, or nuzzles into your side.

gets all flustered when you hug him from behind, like you can feel him turn to putty in your arms.

if you ever miss any of your routine hugs or kisses, follows you around like a lost puppy all day because hey! you forgot his kiss, and he's sad now

doesn't say a word about it though, cause he's embarassed, but lightly tugs on your clothes to get your attention to the little pout on his face.

and when you just can't resist this pumpkin, you're all over him, smothering him with kisses and hugs and cuddles (and he's fighting for his life when you're doing all of this, cause he doesn't wanna burst into giggles)

HARUA

just like euijoo, also very awkward at first and makes you think does this guy even like me or what?

but in reality, he just adores you very much but doesn't wanna come off as clingy

even brushes (?) your touch off at times, even though he doesn't want but he's just not the best at reciprocating affection

but gets used to it very quick! now he wants a kiss every minute and is always hugging you

does not care if he gets teased by the members, he just wants love

lets you kiss his cheek all you want, cause have you looked at them? they're the softest, plumpest cheeks on the entire planet! (screams when you bite them, though)

asks for kisses every night, cause they help him rest better (rather than helping him sleep, they just leave his heart racing and his cheeks pink)

TAKI

he's also kind of touchy, but when you're affectionate, he turns into a stuttering, blushing mess!

but gets used to it pretty quick and soon he becomes demanding.

you refuse to kiss him cause you're eating? how dare you! you can't take away his kissing rights ˙◠˙

lets you bite him. you can bite his shoulder, his cheek or whatever; he doesn't even flinch.

rather, he bites back. harder.

cuddles with him are the best! cause he's so silly and makes you laugh till you're clutching your sides cause it hurts, but also so loving that the little pillow fights and tickles are followed by the best night's sleep.

kisses you all over your face and hands and neck when you're feeling down, till you're laughing and tell him to stop (he doesn't plan to, though)

the most needy boyfriend ever. always asking for hugs and if you say no (which you never do) he's gonna pull you in, wrap his arms around your waist to pick you up and spin you around till you're giggling.

treats you like his best friend and makes you the happiest person in the world, showers you with all the love and affection you want, because he wants to be the the best boyfriend ever (he already is)

MAKI

hand kisses. neck kisses. shoulder kisses. forehead kisses. nose kisses. sad kisses. happy kisses. angry kisses. sweet kisses. i love you kisses. i miss you kisses. hello kisses. goodbye kisses. rain kisses. beach kisses. sunset kisses. first kisses. hundredth kisses. playful kisses. hot kisses. cold kisses. kisses in the light. kisses in the dark. kisses. kisses. kisses. he just wants kisses.

you like physical touch? not more than him.

hugs. kisses. cuddles. hugs. kisses. cuddles. hugs. kisses. cuddles. that's all he wants his day to be. (all of them only from you, of course)

wraps his arms and legs around you to stop you from getting out of bed and away from him.

loves it when you kiss him to shut him up. as much as this boy loves yapping, he loves kisses more.

presses your cheeks together on cold days and holds your hand inside his pocket to keeps you warm

back hugs. all the time. you just have to face your back towards him, and then within the next few seconds, his arms are around your waist and his neck is chin is resting on your shoulder.

as much as he expresses his love for you by touch and affection, he also expresses the same amount through words. like saying 'i love you' in multiple languages all throughout the day, texting you about everything exciting that happened when you're away, or whenever he thinks of you, whispers sweet nothings to help you fall asleep.

[pathologicalreid]

If your down could u write an imagine where reader is new to the bau and Spencer is just coming back from jail and he makes reader nervous and when he notices he starts to mess with her nothing to wild but he teases her every now and again -🖤

drop | S.R.

in which reid seems to be there every time you drop something

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: fluff, lighthearted teasing, clumsiness, obliviousness, reader is mentioned to be shorter than 5'7" (sorry it just worked for the story)

word count: 1.1k

a/n: hey anon! thanks for requesting, i think i may have verged away from the request on accident. also this is the one i posted about earlier that had been deleted by word so i had to rewrite it and therefore it's not very thoroughly proofread. hope you enjoy.

It came as a shock, most people needed to apply to the BAU and even then, they spent years trying to get in. You had gotten a call four months ago and were told you were leaving IOD in the Hoover building and would be expected at the BAU the next morning.

Years ago, you had a run-in with Emily Prentiss while she was heading Interpol in London, but you didn’t think she remembered you – let alone wanted to work with you. She brought you on to the team to help catch Peter Lewis

Now, Peter Lewis was dead, and Spencer Reid had been exonerated. You thought your time with the team was done, but when Emily caught you packing up your things, she told you she had no intentions of sending you back to the International Operation Division.

So, you made yourself comfortable at your desk across from Luke’s, even adding a picture of your family, just to make it seem a little lived-in.

It was something you’d had drilled into your head by your father: if you’re not early, you’re late. That was the reason why you were usually the first to the BAU, only sometimes being beaten by Dr. Reid.

Penelope said he was harmless, but that didn’t change the fact that he made you nervous. Not nervous in the sense that you were scared of him, but nervous in the way that he was something of a legend in the FBI.

Even more so since his recent release from prison.

You felt a sort of disconnect from the team when it came to them trying to get Reid out of prison, whenever Nadie Ramos came up in conversation, you picked up your files on Mr. Scratch and distracted yourself. Of course, you helped where you were needed, but you didn’t know him like they did.

This particular morning, you had beaten him to the office, taking your spot at your desk and flipping through a file you had abandoned in the name of sleep last night. A slight crash made you jump so badly that you fumbled with the papers in an attempt to not drop them. You looked up to see Spencer had dropped his bag on his desk, “Good morning, Y/N.” He greeted you.

Blankly, you stare at him for a moment before giving him a half smile. “Good morning, Dr. Reid,” you responded.

“I told you that you could just call me Reid, or Spencer,” he said, sitting down at his own desk.

Nodding, you found yourself interested in your coffee cup. “Yes, you did,” you took a deep breath. “Good morning, Spencer,” you tried again, offering him a fuller smile.

That seemed to appease him for now because he flipped open his own files and started inspecting them.

As you were preparing for the 10 o’clock debrief, you found yourself in the office kitchenette, pouring a cup of coffee from the pot that had been brewed an indeterminate number of minutes ago. Vaguely aware of the person standing behind you, you turned around to find Spencer, holding his own mug in both hands. “Oh! Hey,” you said, mentally smacking the palm of your hand to your forehead.

You moved out of the way as you added cream to your mug, watching as Spencer poured his coffee and followed it up with an almost equal amount of sugar. As you were about to make your way to the round table room, Spencer spoke, “You know, before 1975 you wouldn’t even have been able to be an FBI agent.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you stopped in your tracks and turned to face him, “Wait, what? Why?”

“Before 1975 people shorter than 5’7” couldn’t be FBI agents,” He responded plainly, but there was a bit of mischief in his eyes.

You looked at him curiously, warmth flooding your cheeks. You stammered something about being late and rushed to the roundtable room, taking your usual spot next to Luke, and watching what Garcia presented to you—pretending not to notice Spencer across the table from you.

The BAU had been asked to consult on a case, but there were no precincts that had asked the team to make a trip to them. You had finished the paperwork on a recently closed case and got up to bring it to Emily, stuffing the papers in a file folder, you turned around and ran into Spencer. “Sorry!” You squeaked out, dropping to the floor to pick up the papers. To your surprise, he crouched down next to you and helped to pick up the papers. “Oh, jeez, now they’re all out of order,” you moped, setting the papers back down on your desk.

“It was my fault,” Spencer said. The honesty in his voice made your shoulders slouch.

Shaking your head, you smiled at him, “It’s okay, Spencer. They’re just papers.”

He looked at you like there was something more he wanted to say, but he didn’t, he just turned from your desk and walked out of the bullpen, leaving you staring.

When you finally brought your papers to Emily, she asked you to close the door behind you. Patiently, you stood in her office while she added your file to the menacing pile she kept on her desk. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you’re doing. With the BAU, I mean,” she told you, leaning over her desk.

“Good, I think. I’ve gotten very few complaints so far,” you told her, unable to help the uneasiness you felt. Had someone said something?

Emily nodded, her dark hair shining with the movement, “Good, I haven’t heard anything negative about you at all. Which is actually uncommon for the BAU.”

You let the rest of the day pass, but as the team trickled out of the bullpen, only you, Emily, and Spencer were left.

At the sound of rustling, you looked over to see that Spencer was packing up his things and putting them into his familiar leather bag. Resting your cheek on your hand, you went back to your case file, marking thoughts in the margins.

Jumping when something hit your desk, making the metal rattle, you dropped your pen on the ground. Peering up to see Spencer giving you a lopsided smile before he bent down to pick up your pen, “Hey, at least you didn’t drop a bunch of papers again.”

You flushed as your eyes followed him out the glass doors of the BAU, turning around to see Emily watching on, leaning on the railing outside her office, looking between you and Spencer as if she knew something you didn’t.

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 6

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 6.4K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: some angst, but this is a fluffy chapter so not much to say

Author's Note: hi everyone, i hope you're all well! sorry it took so long to get this out, i was really going through it and didn't have a lot of motivation to write, but this is finished now!! it's a lot shorter than i wanted it to be, but i decided it didn't matter and wanted to post anyway, so i hope you guys enjoy it despite the length (or lack thereof). thank you guys again so much for being so patient and understanding, you all are so amazing and i couldn't ask for better readers. i hope you enjoy the newest installment!

TAGLIST CLOSED [follow asingledaffodil tag for all notifications]

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandyrecs @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @pastelpeachess @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeowmeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @sylviamuela @notarshia @minghaosimp @ilikekpop-c @maynina @rinkud @jesshujk @kimsaerom @suker4angst @mar-627 @maynina @pitchblack0309 @wobblewobble822 @praetae @yoongibaybee @weareatthebadlands

previous / masterlist / next

Walking through the lobby of Yoongi’s apartment in what was essentially a morning after look left you with a new sense of embarrassment you hadn’t felt before. You pointedly avoided eye contact with the security guard as you beelined to the elevator, hoping he couldn’t make out the outline of a crumpled dress and lingerie in the bag hanging from your fingertips. The elevator takes what feels like an eternity to open its doors and once it does, you quickly ducked inside, repeatedly hitting the close button so no one else can enter. 

Once you reached Yoongi’s apartment door, you breathed deeply, trying to calm your nerves before entering. You punched in the passcode, hearing the lock click and slowly turned the handle to crack open the door, seeing if you could catch a peek of Yoongi in the living room. Luck seemed to be on your side as the couch was empty, and you darted past the door, speed walking to the stairs to get changed. Making it to your room felt like winning a marathon as you shut the door behind you and chucked your plastic bag at the floor. You didn’t know what you would’ve done had you run into Yoongi dressed in nothing but Jaehyun’s shirt, missing even undergarments. 

While you showered and dressed yourself in comfier clothing, making a mental note to wash and return Jaehyun’s shirt as soon as you could, you contemplated how you should approach your conversation with Yoongi. You hadn’t talked to him since Friday night when you’d caught him on top of Jimin. You ran multiple scenarios of how a conversation with him would go as you entered the shower, wondering how he would react to you saying that you had feelings for him. 

Wait, is that what you were going to do? Confess to him? You weren’t sure about that. You knew you wanted to be honest with him but not that honest. But…if you asked him to remain exclusive or said that him seeing people other than you bothered you, wouldn’t he be able to put the pieces together from that? You sighed, letting the warm water trickle down your face, pushing your hair back against your scalp, at least not confessing would save you an iota of embarrassment. 

You finished showering rather quickly, a bit too quickly for your own taste, you wanted to delay this inevitable conversation as long as possible. Picking your clothes was simple enough, aiming for a comfy outfit with a simple sweatshirt and leggings, noting the chilled air in the house. 

Finally, you were ready. Physically, at least. 

Emotionally? You wanted to crawl under your bed. But that wasn’t an option, or so you told yourself, as you combed your hair and stared yourself down in the mirror.

You could do this. How hard could it be? 

A glimmer of gold caught your eye on your desk and made you hesitate, seeing your ring sitting patiently on the flat surface. You reached for it, reasoning that if you wanted to commit to Yoongi, you should be wearing it. The cool feeling of the metal sliding onto your finger was grounding, something you needed for the conversation you were about to have. 

Reaching for your door handle, you worried your lip over the fact that you still had no idea what you wanted to say. Should you wait until you’d formulated a plan? Or until you felt properly ready? No, you’d never talk to him at that rate. 

As you opened the door, you stumbled back in shock, seeing Yoongi already standing there, looking disheveled and exhausted. He seemed equally surprised that you’d opened the door, showing in his slightly open mouth and wide eyes. You noticed the dark circles sinking in under his bloodshot eyes and messy bangs adorning his forehead, his lips were chapped and parted. Was he alright? But that’s not what was important right now.

“Yoongi-ssi,” you stuttered, caught off guard by his sudden appearance, “What are you doing here?”

Yoongi sighed, running a hand through already messy hair, before looking at you directly, “I wanted to talk to you. About Friday,” he paused, “About everything.”

Great.

“Oh, okay, I actually wanted to talk to you too. Why don’t you come in,” it felt awkward gesturing for him to enter your room but he looked like he was about to fall over any second and you didn’t want to risk him getting a head injury. Guiding him to your bed, you watched him sit before pulling your desk chair up so you could face him. 

“Would you like to start,” you asked, trying to meet his downcast gaze.

“No, no, I want to hear what you have to say first,” he said quietly. 

“Okay, well, firstly, I wanted to apologize for how I reacted on Friday,” you started, holding up your hand when you saw Yoongi begin to protest, “I’m not apologizing for being upset, I’m apologizing for taking it out on you. In our agreement, you were allowed to pursue other people and I shouldn’t have reacted that way, at least, not externally. You didn’t really do anything wrong. But, to clear the air, I want to explain why I reacted the way I did.”

This was going well so far, or at least, that’s what you were telling yourself. Yoongi seemed surprised but only nodded for you to continue, so you did. 

“To be completely honest, I’m not really okay with us having an open relationship, I don’t like the idea of you with other people or me going out with other people, it feels,” you weighed your words carefully, “It feels disrespectful, at least, that’s how I see it. But, I should’ve made that clear when it was first brought up, so that’s on me.”

Yoongi shook his head, but you continued on, feeling like you were unable to stop talking now that you’d started, “Honestly, this entire relationship has felt kind of one-sided. I don’t like how you get upset at random things or draw a line between us so harshly. I understand that this wasn't ideal for you, I’m not asking you to fall in love with me, but I do want us to work together.”

“I want us to try and at least be friends to start, I think we started off too hostile,” you continued, feeling like you were building to a crescendo.

“To be totally transparent,” you took a deep breath, was this really what you wanted to do? There could be devastating consequences, but you felt in your bones that you wanted to be completely honest with him. You satiated your nerves by reminding yourself that you had your own apartment to go back to should Yoongi’s reaction be extremely negative.

“Even before we got married,” another deep breath, you could do this. This wasn’t such a big deal, you didn’t even have very deep feelings for him, they felt superficial. So with that logic, you told yourself, a rejection wouldn’t be the end of the world. 

“I’ve had a sort of crush on you,” there was no turning back from here. You had told yourself you weren’t planning on confessing, yet here you were, baring your soul. Your eyes were turned downward, afraid of seeing Yoongi’s reaction, the only thing you heard being a surprised exhale at your statement. Your fingers entangled with one another in a nervous tic as you slowly lifted your gaze to meet Yoongi’s. 

His eyebrows were knitted together, in what expression, you weren’t sure. His eyes held an emotion you couldn’t read. His mouth was pursed in a sentiment you couldn’t decipher. Why was he so difficult to read? Why couldn’t you tell what he was thinking? It only made you more nervous. You had tried to quell your fears by telling yourself that your feelings were too shallow to warrant being so upset at a rejection, but you knew that it would still be devastating to you. When did your heart ever listen to logic?

As you sat in a silence that felt like it lasted minutes on end, Yoongi finally opened his mouth. 

“I didn’t know,” he stated, you still couldn’t read his expression. Was that all he had to say? You could feel your heart sinking into your stomach and your eyes begin to well with tears. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly want to announce it,” you retorted, feeling exposed and upset. You had confessed something of this caliber and that was all he could say in response? It was angering and you could feel the control you had over your expression slipping from your grasp. You turned away from Yoongi, attempting to steel your outward appearance, not wanting to let him see how much he affected you. 

A hand caught your arm that was reaching up to run a hand through your hair, making you face Yoongi once more. His eyebrows were more scrunched together than before, making him look upset, but you couldn’t be sure. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I want to say more, it’s just a lot to process,” he said, biting at the chapped bits of his lip, making your eyes catch on the movement. You quickly averted your gaze back to his own, waiting for him to speak. 

He released your arm, leaning back in his position on your bed, letting out a sigh, “I’ve been thinking about a lot of stuff the past few days, and I want to apologize, for a lot. It was shitty of me to try to sleep with someone else, it was shitty of me to do a lot of things. You didn’t deserve any of it. I should’ve tried to get to know you better before we got married instead of imposing stupid rules, I should’ve been nicer to you during the whole process, and I shouldn’t have been so back and forth with how I acted towards you. There’s a lot I wish I had done differently, and I want to apologize for all of it.”

His words left you silent, mouth slightly parted in shock, not having expected such a genuine apology from his lips. 

He took your silence as a sign to continue, “I’ve probably been really frustrating to deal with, with how I’ve been handling this, but I want to make things clear, I definitely feel something for you too.”

Your ears felt like they were ringing, was this really happening? You hadn’t even prepared yourself for this type of outcome, you weren’t sure how to react. 

“It took me some time to actually come to terms with that because I didn’t understand what I was feeling, but I can confidently say that I like you too. I want to make this work, I want to do this together, with you,” Yoongi finished, running a hand through his messy hair before looking at you once more. 

You weren’t sure of what to say exactly, your palms were growing sweaty and your mind felt blank. But you couldn’t leave Yoongi hanging, you had to say something, anything. 

“We shouldn’t try to start a relationship,” you blurted out, surprising Yoongi and yourself. But it was true to how you felt, with how things had progressed so far, you absolutely did not feel ready to jump into a relationship with Yoongi. The power imbalance felt too great, despite him just confirming that he had feelings for you too, you knew he could ask anything of you and you’d oblige. That wasn’t a healthy foundation. 

In addition to that, you didn’t feel like you knew him well enough. You liked to be friends with people for a little bit before starting to date them, it allowed to get to know them without the pressure of a relationship, and usually only aided in your feelings towards them. Right now, you knew what you felt for Yoongi was too shallow to start a relationship that you would enjoy. 

And the most important, you wanted to make sure you had an out. If a relationship between you and Yoongi didn’t work out, you couldn’t just stop seeing each other, you’d still be married. You’d still have obligations to each other. You wanted to make sure that you and Yoongi could function as friends first, roommates at the least, before you jumped into a relationship that had the potential to end badly. If you knew that you’d be able to have a fall back plan with him, you’d feel much more comfortable going into this. It was a bad habit of yours, though, looking for a way out of situations before they had even come to fruition. You had tried to shake it, you really had, especially at the advice of your college counselor back when you actually got therapy, but it had creeped its way back into your routine. 

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed, “Why?” 

Biting your lip, you made sure to take an even breath, “With how everything has been so far, I feel like it’d be better to start as friends. It feels too fast to jump straight into a relationship.”

Yoongi nodded slowly, “Okay, that makes sense. How about a compromise?”

Your attention quickly drew to his face, your eyebrows scrunching together in confusion and intrigue, “What do you mean?”

“Let me take you out on dates every now and then, we can go slowly so you’re comfortable,” he stated, sharp eyes carefully gauging your reaction. 

You could feel your mouth open slightly in shock at his proposition, but your mind raced to consider the options, would you be able to handle dates with him? Would you even survive?

A new thought entered your mind, slightly unwelcome, but the fact remained that you didn’t have to restrain yourself anymore. You didn’t have to be concerned with whether you would survive dates with Yoongi anymore, because Yoongi liked you. It was mutual. There were no consequences to worry about, no reason to catch yourself, to monitor your feelings.

Because he liked you. 

You silently nodded, still processing the entire situation, barely registering Yoongi’s returning nod. 

“Okay,” he stated, a little breathlessly, “I should really go shower, so I’m gonna do that.” He stood quickly, nodding at you, before rushing out your door. You weren’t quite so far gone that you didn’t notice his burning red ears, making you smile softly. 

Hearing the door shut gently, you leaned back in your chair, exhaling loudly.

None of this felt real. 

Did that really just happen?

You had spent so long pondering the possibilities and endless realities of Yoongi rejecting you, being disgusted, upset, or divorcing you that you didn’t know what to do in the situation where he felt the same. Your mind was spinning and you felt yourself rise from your seat only to fall back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

It felt like a dream, almost.

But the slight chill in the air, the feeling of the comforter beneath your fingertips, the distant sound of the shower running proved to you that it was real. A smile grew on your face as you sat in your thoughts, wasn’t this the best case scenario? And it was truly happening.

Turning your head to the side, you glanced at the clock sitting on your bedside table. It was only around noon at this point, plenty of time left in the day. Noting the time made your stomach growl, berating your choice to have not eaten until now. You sat up, deciding to cook, leaving your room to head to the kitchen. 

Cooking was a hit or miss for you, it really depended on what mood you were in, if you felt like cooking. You were in a great mood today, though, and it showed in your enthusiasm at wondering what you should make for lunch. Something light and easy, shareable. Because you wanted to share it with Yoongi. 

You settled on kimbap, finding the necessary vegetables in the fridge and starting to chop them. When you were happy, you made spam kimbap, so that’s what you made. A small little hum started up in you, influenced by the music flowing through your headphones, inciting a sway in your step and a tap in your foot. You hadn’t been this content in a while, but it felt achingly familiar, a fond tug in your heart. You almost didn’t know what to do with yourself without the lingering sadness or restriction on your feelings toward Yoongi. 

You weren’t sure if it had truly set in yet, the reality of the situation, but while it hadn’t, you were going to enjoy the honeymoon phase of just having confessed to each other. 

Flipping the spam on the stove, you quietly sang along to your song, using your chopsticks as a makeshift microphone in your muted movements. The last time you were able to relax like this, you recalled, was before you moved out of your apartment, after getting off a call with Hoseok and Joohee. The call had been a regular check in between the three of you and had left you in an exceedingly good mood and aggressively singing in your kitchen while making dinner. Your movements slowed and voice died as you thought about the past few months and how you had rarely had a moment of true content. 

Your thoughts were constantly plagued by Yoongi and later, his actions toward you and what they could mean. You felt a wave of emotional exhaustion hit you now that your brain wasn’t in overdrive trying to regulate your feelings and decipher Yoongi’s. 

A glance down at the spam told you it was done and you quickly moved it to another plate. Turning around to retrieve the veggies, you were met with Yoongi standing silently at the edge of the kitchen, leaning against the pillar, making you stumble back.

“Oh, Yoongi-ssi, you surprised me,” you breathed, pressing a hand to your chest before reaching for the veggies to lightly stir fry. 

“My bad, I should’ve said something. What are you making,” he asked, walking over to you. 

“Just spam kimbap,” you said shortly, keeping your eyes trained on the pan in front of you. You weren’t used to him being this casual with you. 

“Y/N,” he called, drawing your attention to his form now leaning against the counter, “Shouldn’t we be more casual with each other? You still call me Yoongi-ssi.”

“Oh,” you stuttered, “I suppose so.” This was maybe too much too fast. 

“How about it, Y/N-ah,” he said, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Um, sure, Yoongi,” you said, trying to turn your gaze back to your vegetables, how did he switch up his attitude so easily?

You heard him chuckle quietly before you transferred your veggies to another plate.

“Is there any way I can help,” you heard him and you had to stop yourself from automatically rejecting his offer. You could change your attitude too, it couldn’t be that hard. Hopefully.

“Sure, would you mind taking the rice out of the cooker and into a bowl on the counter,” you asked, to which he quickly obliged. 

This all felt a little too domestic, you weren’t ready for this level of familiarity. It was a difficult transition, to say the least. You were used to maintaining apathy toward Yoongi, at least, externally. Your body’s natural instinct now was to turn away from him and mind your expression, it was tough to turn that off. 

“Why don’t we both roll, it’ll get done faster that way,” Yoongi suggested, innocently looking at you from the other side of the counter, unaware of the turmoil brewing inside you. Why couldn’t you just relax around him?

“Sure,” you stuttered, making your way to the table so you could sit and roll. Yoongi sat down next to you, not a care in the world it seemed, and began expertly portioning ingredients and rolling the kimbap. 

You looked on in half-awe at his skill, your own hands slowing in their motions. Yoongi paused before looking at you, eyebrow raised.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, feeling heat flood your face, “I didn’t expect you to be so good at this.”

Yoongi only chuckled slightly before resuming his task, “Yeah, Jin hyung and I used to make these during the holidays, Jeongguk too once he was old enough.”

The fondness in Yoongi’s voice made you smile, “That sounds really nice. I can imagine Seokjin oppa being pretty strict in the kitchen.”

Yoongi laughed, a sound that was warm and pleasant to your ears, “Yeah, I always thought he’d grow up to be a chef.”

You nodded, you thought so too, having witnessed the way he forced the kitchen staff at their home to let him join in the cooking and play expeditor whenever you visited Joohee. 

You and Yoongi worked in a comfortable silence, entering a smooth rhythm of making the kimbap, ending with being delegated to slicing the rolls that Yoongi formed. Once you were both finished, you dug in, savoring the comforting flavor of the spam and stir fried vegetables. 

Yoongi sighed into his meal, eyes closed, “It’s been so long since I’ve had kimbap, especially homemade.”

Your eyes traced down his side profile, noting his rounded out cheeks from food and contented smile, “Yeah, it’s nice every once in a while.”

Yoongi opened his eyes, looking at you, “Yeah, it is.”

You felt embarrassed as your cheeks warmed from his eyes on you, but you tried to maintain composure. It was clear, you decided, that his effect on you had only increased since your conversation. 

It would be difficult to remain just friends, but it felt a little easier now that you knew you weren’t alone in your feelings.

“What?”

“Are you serious?”

Joohee and Hoseok’s voices blended together as they shouted over each other on the video call. You giggled, shaking your head, “I still can’t believe it either.”

“That’s great, though, right,” Joohee asked, spooning another mouthful of noodles into her mouth, muffling her voice, “This is what you wanted right?”

The million dollar question. It was, wasn’t it? You felt content, and you were confident in that feeling for the first time in a while.

“Yeah,” you smiled, “It is. I’m happy that we’re starting as friends.”

“Y/N-ie,” Hoseok said softly, “You look so happy. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, squeezing the Pokemon plushie in your arms, “It feels really nice.”

Joohee sighed, “Damn, you’re making me feel really single.”

Both you and Hoseok laughed, making Joohee choke slightly on her ramyeon. Even while you were telling your friends, it still didn’t feel real. Your head felt foggy almost, like you were in a dream, but you’d pinched yourself multiple times since this morning to confirm your consciousness. 

“So why did you decide to just be friends? Wasn’t being together for real the whole point,” Joohee said after swallowing her noodles. 

You paused before answering, unsure of quite how to phrase it. To say you thought it through extensively before you’d proposed only friendship to Yoongi would be a lie, it came out of you before you could stop it. It was something you knew you needed to do, to make sure this was going to last, relationship or not. You hadn’t thought it out beforehand mainly because you hadn’t considered this outcome a possibility.

“I needed an anchor, I guess. I needed to know that this could work even if we didn’t get together, because we’re still married. And, I won’t deny it, I wanted to take it slow. I guess my feelings for Yoongi have been really shallow and I want them to be a bit more before we jump into a relationship,” you said, “I don’t know. Maybe that was the wrong move.”

“It absolutely wasn’t,” Hoseok said, sending you an encouraging smile through the screen. You could see the moving boxes piling up behind him now that he’d finally found an apartment he liked and was close to his future studio.

Joohee nodded in agreement, “Yeah, it’s better to start off as friends and work your way up. This relationship is already so unconventional, it’s good that you guys will be starting in a more grounded way.”

You smiled, the feeling of your friends backing up your decision made you feel more confident. 

“Are you feeling ready to go back to work tomorrow?”

Your smile slowly faded, thinking about the pile of work awaiting you after two weeks of absence. 

“Yeah, I’m excited to have something to do,” you started, fiddling with the pen at your desk, “But our main project got delayed by the devs again, looks like some performance issues after beta testing. We still have to move ahead so we’re in the late promotional phase now, looking at some influencer endorsements. I was thinking of asking Jeongguk, actually.”

Joohee grinned, “Yeah, that rascal will totally say yes. He’s smitten with you!”

You felt heat take over your face as you stared incredulously at Joohee, “What do you mean?”

“He just really likes you! I don’t think he has a lot of gamer friends, at least that he knows in person, so I think he’s just really excited to have you as a friend,” she explained, pushing her bowl to the side. 

“He told me he likes older women,” Hoseok said bluntly, making you choke on your sip of water. 

“What,” Joohee exclaimed, bringing her face much closer to the camera, “When did you talk to him?”

“We talked a bit at the wedding, he heard me mention the dance studio so we exchanged contacts because he was interested,” Hoseok detailed, “I mentioned offhand that it was hard to find a date in Seoul and he asked what my type was. Then he just said that he liked older women when I asked him the same.”

You stifled a laugh while Joohee didn’t hold hers back, making Hoseok join in too.

“Looks like Yoongi has some competition,” Joohee giggled.

“As if! I’m not into younger guys,” you wrinkled your nose.

“Except for that one hookup in our fourth year,” Hoseok interjected, “Wasn’t he a first year?”

You groaned, covering your face, “I didn’t know! He looked a lot older, and I thought we agreed not to mention that anymore!”

Hoseok and Joohee continued laughing, and even though it was at your expense, you couldn’t help but join in. The weekend had certainly been eventful, but closing your Sunday afternoon with the comfort of your friends left you feeling quite pleased. 

After ending the class with Hoseok and Joohee, you scrolled on your phone for a bit, catching up on unread messages and emails. 

Jimin’s apologetic message stood out to you and you finally typed out a reply, quelling his concerns and promising that he had done nothing wrong. You hadn’t mentioned the incident to Hoseok in case Jimin felt uncomfortable with it, so you were confident that the two of you could move past this easily. You also didn’t want things to get awkward between him and Hoseok right before they started up the studio.

A soft knock on your door drew your attention and had you get up from your relaxed position on your bed, opening the door up to Yoongi’s form.

“Hey, I just wanted to see if you had any plans for dinner,” Yoongi said, biting his lip and knitting together his eyebrows. If you didn’t know any better, he almost looked nervous. 

“No, I don’t, did you have something in mind,” you asked, inviting him inside your room. 

“Oh, well, there’s a nice restaurant that I like to go to for some good comfort food, if you’re good with that,” he said, fingers playing with the thread on his black pullover, distracting your gaze. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you smiled, “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

“Okay, great,” he said, a tad too loudly, before relaxing in his posture, “Great. I’ll meet you downstairs when you’re ready. You can dress casually, by the way.”

“Will do,” you smiled, why did he feel so awkward? Maybe he wasn’t as good at this as you had thought earlier in the kitchen. 

He quickly left, nodding a short goodbye before entering his room and shutting the door. You did the same, turning toward your closet entrance, pondering what to wear. Casual, right?

Your finger dragged along the hanging clothing in the closet, brushing the different fabrics. You picked out a soft cotton t-shirt that you got from a work event and some jeans, settling on the simple look with a comfy oversized jacket. 

Giving yourself a once-over, you deemed yourself presentable. You weren’t sure if Yoongi was already ready and waiting downstairs, so you left and made your way down there.

Yoongi was waiting in much the same outfit as he was in before, but switched out his sweatpants for some dark, straight legged jeans and put on a black snapback. He looked far more casual than you’d ever seen and it was a welcome sight. 

He smiled softly at you before tilting his head, “Ready to go?”

You nodded, slipping on your shoes by the door and walking out into the main hallway. Yoongi and you were silent on the elevator ride down to the garage. It felt a little awkward, but it was a different type of awkward than before. Where before you both didn’t know what to say to each other, now it felt more like you didn’t know how to say what you wanted to. You weren’t sure if that was better.

When you got down to the garage, Yoongi led you to a sleek black sedan, opening the passenger side door for you. You sent him a slightly confused smile as you got in and he clarified, “This is my personal car. I don’t use it that much daily because parking can be a hassle at the office, but it’ll be fine where we’re going.” 

“Oh, okay,” you responded, this mystery destination had started to feel a little bit ominous. As he walked around the car to the other door, you clicked in your seatbelt, wondering where exactly you were going. Yoongi slid into the driver seat, seamlessly starting up the car and clicking in his seatbelt. You saw him turn towards you, hand outstretched for a moment, before glancing down and retracting his hand.

He cleared his throat before switching gear and pulling out from his parking spot. Yoongi’s driving was smooth and relaxing, making you melt into the leather seats and stare out the window at the sun beginning to set. Yoongi had started up some soft jazz on his speakers making you further enjoy the quiet ambiance of the evening drive. 

After a little while, Yoongi pulled into a small parking lot, next to an empty grassy lawn near the Han river. Shutting off the engine, he quickly exited, speed walking around the car to open your door for you barely after you’d finished unbuckling. His dedication to chivalry made you chuckle softly, thanking him with a nod as you got out of the car. 

While you were distracted by the sight of city lights reflecting on the Han river in mesmerizing shimmers in time with the water current, Yoongi gently led you to an outdoor eating area with some plastic covers keeping out insects and smoke rising from the kitchen near the back. Delicious smells of cooking meat and seasoned vegetables filled your nostrils and you inhaled gratefully. 

Yoongi led you inside, nodding at the older woman by the counter and guided you to a two seater table in the corner. The older women quickly brought you drinks and side dishes, affectionately ruffling Yoongi’s hair before he prattled on an order of meats and veggies, letting you do the same after him. 

While you waited for your food to arrive, you took a moment to observe your surroundings further. It wasn’t what you were expecting, when Yoongi said he wanted to take you to dinner, but it was certainly welcome. The loud chatter and laughter from other tables fed into a cheerful environment and the gentle smoke from meat cooking made your stomach growl. 

Yoongi seemed to be quite familiar with the staff as well, leading you to question him, “Do you come here often?”

He smiled, shrugging his shoulders, “Not as often as I’d like to anymore. In college, though, I’d come here all the time with Namjoon and Jin hyung. The ahjumma there has been running this shop for over twenty years, I think, and she knows me fairly well by now.”

The thought of a college aged Yoongi sitting at these tables with his friends and enjoying charred pork on top of a bed of perilla leaves, laughing at something Seokjin said, made you smile. 

“Are you okay with coming here? Instead of a classier restaurant,” Yoongi asked, though he didn’t seem to be afraid of your answer. 

You shook your head anyway, “Of course I am, I’ve been craving some barbeque actually. Joohee, Hoseok, Mina and I used to go to these all the time in college too, but those were much closer to campus. The view is nicer here,” you finished, looking out onto the river through the almost see through plastic sheets.

“Mina,” Yoongi questioned, looking at you.

“Oh,” you stuttered, inwardly cursing yourself for letting that slip, “She was my ex, back in college.”

Yoongi nodded, not seeming too taken aback, “Makes sense. Those kinds of meals always made those college exams worth it.”

“Definitely,” you laughed.

The older woman approached your table balancing multiple trays and expertly set the food down in front of you. You didn’t have to cook your own meat here, so you and Yoongi immediately dug in and began wrapping the meat and vegetables in lettuce and cabbage. 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence while you ate, too preoccupied with the food to really focus on conversation. As you both eventually slowed your eating, Yoongi began asking you basic questions, wondering about your work, friends, and hobbies. You happily answered him, returning the favor by diving into his own interests and life. It felt natural, like two people just hanging out and getting to know each other. 

You found that this was the most relaxed you’d felt in Yoongi’s presence so far, and it was definitely something you could get used to. Watching his cheeks puff up when he ate, his eyes close as he savored the flavor, and his smile as you answered his questions made you feel warm and lucid. 

You soon finished up and Yoongi stood to go pay, even though you’d offered.

“You can get it next time,” he’d said, smiling down at you. That made your cheeks flush and you had to look away from his gaze. 

The drive back to the apartment was calm and serene, the scenery of the river blowing by through the window. Your arm rested on the surface between the two front seats and you flinched slightly when you felt Yoongi’s elbow touch yours. His eyes remained forward but you spotted the red tinge to his ears, betraying his indifferent exterior. 

It was cute, you decided, chuckling quietly. You left your arm in its position, pressed against Yoongi’s. 

It was nice. 

Yoongi collapsed onto his bed, breathless. Had this weekend even been real? The rollercoaster of emotions he’d experienced had left him reeling, from unimaginable guilt and self hatred to elation that you harbored feelings for him to a calm and quiet first date with you. 

He flipped over in bed, sighing into his pillow. It felt unbelievable what had happened in the past two weeks since he’d gotten married. He’d been so headstrong in protecting himself and drawing harsh boundaries, dealing with the confusion of growing affection for you from when your families had dined together all those months ago to now. 

As he donned his clothes for bed, he recalled your earlier proposition. To start as friends, he mused. It didn’t seem like a bad idea. Yoongi was well aware of the wrongs he’d committed against you and he was determined to make up for them. 

He wanted to take the opportunity to show you that he was a good person, despite how you two had started off. 

It wouldn’t hurt, either, that it’d give Yoongi the chance to get to know you better, something he was desperate for. He thought back to your dinner by the river, the way your skin glowed in the soft yellow lighting, tendrils of smoke framing your face, and the flush of your cheeks due to the warm atmosphere. 

You’d looked ethereal. 

He’d thoroughly enjoyed your conversation, reveling in being able to learn so much about you. You were slowly opening up and it was exciting, he’d been craving getting to see more sides to your usually stoic nature. 

Earlier that day, after your climactic conversation, he’d spotted you in the kitchen after his shower. You were humming along to a song he’d assumed was playing in your headphones, your hips were swinging gently, and your foot was tapping along to the beat. He’d stood there for a while, admiring your form loose and relaxed in front of the stove. 

He’d never seen you like that before, but he decided right there it was a sight he wanted to come back to every day.

It would a lie to say Yoongi wasn’t nervous about how quickly his feelings for you were developing. He had felt them building up during the wedding preparations, especially so during the rehearsal dinner and ceremony itself. But the way he was becoming overcome with fondness and affection for you was maybe a bit concerning. 

Another reason why your decision to start as friends was probably the right one. Yoongi wanted to savor every moment of falling for you, and you falling for him. He wanted to catch your eye from across the room and make you smile, he wanted to bring redness to your cheeks and make your eyes dart away, he wanted to feel his heart race when you smiled at him, cuddle with you on the couch during a movie, and feel your palm against his as you walked the streets of Seoul. 

As Yoongi fell asleep that night, he dreamed of a sweet and slow romance between you two and of daffodil petals in your hair. 

previous / masterlist / next

[princessbrunette]

you remembered the first time you laid eyes on jj maybank.

a shitty admin job was the best you could score from your father, the sheriff — something light you could add to your resumé, whilst doing minimal work. you didn’t anticipate working in the local jail to be as boring as it was, despite knowing you were going into a job that consisted solely of checking people in and out and punching names into a computer. you tried to make it as fun as possible, showing up in your cutest miniskirts, fluffiest jackets, daintiest mary-jane heels, but there was never anyone interesting coming in and out the cells, only drunks being thrown into the tank after one too many.

that was until jj came along.

it was like everything moved in slow motion the first time he got brought in. your father had the blondes wrists clipped behind his back, shoving him along the hallways. it was the first young person you’d gotten in weeks, your shoulder finding the door frame as you stare, watching in intrigue. whatever jj had done to get himself wound up in a cell, he didn’t seem remotely sorry about it. the smirk on his face was worn proudly as a medal, even whilst being shoved along by the sheriff he had this swagger to each step. you didn’t even realise you were staring, dressed in all your girly glory until he locked eyes with you.

his smirk spread on his face. jj knew who you were, but that was to no surprise — everyone did. the sheriffs daughter. a title you wore not so proudly, as all it did was get you labelled as a narc by association in high school and barred from any party where drinking or smoking could potentially be occurring. jj’s eyes drag down you, and then back to your eyes, even turning his head to hold the eye contact as he got shoved into a cell.

your father followed his gaze before grabbing a fistful of his white tshirt to hold him straight. “and quit eye balling my daughter, would you?”

he holds your gaze with that amused grin for a moment longer before blinking down at the shorter man. “thats my bad, sheriff.” he drawls in that lazy southern accent of his. you had to have him.

it was over from that point on. you’d seek him out, tired of being associated with your fathers profession and wanting to have some fun for once. jj was more than happy to oblige, infact he couldn’t believe his luck. there was a thrill to the two of you being out in the open together, something in the two of you wanting to be caught — just to see what would happen. you’d even go as far as to makeout against your car right outside the station after you’d finished a shift, jj all but shoving his tongue down your open mouth as his hands grope you all over for other officers to see and relay to shoupe.

jj frequently returned to his temporary cell with all the trouble he’d get in — your glossed lips turning upwards elatedly at the sight of his cuffed form trudging its way through the hall like routine. you’d even gotten to the point of ignoring your father and running to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “oh jayj what’d you get yourself into this time?” you whine, only for him to chuckle it off with the same joke he made each time.

“maybe i just wanted to see you, babydoll.”

by which at this point, your father had yanked you off the boy, sending you away. “go do your work, don’t lemme tell you again.”

of course it drove a wedge between you and your father. but he deserved it! he ruined your social life growing up by shutting down parties and arresting your peers, the least you could do was date one of his hottest cell-regulars. every gaze across the waiting room as maybank checks out was met with your father appearing seemingly from nowhere to ask “you really think it’s gonna work out with a kid like that? don’t come cryin’ to me when you get hurt. i warned ‘ya.” to which you’d roll your eyes and walk away. jj would never hurt you, not unless you asked him to.

he was always desperate to get his hands on you in other ways during your alone time, crowding you from behind at the sketchy bar he’d brought you to and wrapping his arms round your waist.

“your daddy’s gon’ be real mad at me for bringing his sweet little daughter to a joint like this.” he jokes, pressing kisses to the sweet spot behind your ear as you lose interest in attempting to attract the bartenders attention.

“he’s not the boss of me.” you sigh, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his hands and mouth on you. you hear him chuckle, craning round to look at you from the side.

“nah? all grown up now, huh.” he comments, making a weak giggle leave you as you press your ass further into his crotch. “guess someone’s gotta step up then, right? maybe next time i’ll be the one puttin’ you in cuffs. bet you’d like that.” his coarse hands slide down your arms to your wrists before binding them with his hands behind your back, continuing to attack your jaw and neck with little kisses.

“you can do whatever you like to me, jj.” you admit sweetly, and he responds with a kiss to your cheek.

“i know. it’s my favourite thing about ‘ya.”

[whatislovevavy]

Sliding Stops & Beating Hearts

Reiner! Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader (Honeybee)

Summary: Tyler Owens has worked almost his entire life for this moment. And he's so glad he gets to share it with you.

Warnings: Tyler being down bad for his wife, afab!reader, fluff, swearing, smut (18+), oral (m+f), facesitting, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

WC: 4.6k (I'm so sorry, but not sorry enough to make it shorter)

AN: Hey girlies :) Apologies for taking so long to post this, I've been very busy and it feels like I have to wait for what feels like some kind of astronomical event for me to be able to write. Tyler Owens is essentially Jake Seresin so yeah I'm writing for him now lol. Reining has always been one of my favorite equestrian sports to watch. Granted, I've never done it nor competed so apologies to any reiners out there if there's inaccuracies with how competitions go lol. Anyways, hope you enjoy :)

None of the pictures featured are mine and were taken off of Pinterest. All of my writings will be added to my writing side blog @sophs-writing-nook 

This is an 18+ fanfic, so minors scoot pls. You are responsible for the media you consume. Do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate this fic without my explicit permission as it is my own creation. 

The competition had been fierce and each ounce of caffeine in your veins from your strenuous, early morning drive from Arkansas to Oklahoma had done nothing to quell your nerves. 

You could feel the sweat emulate from your palms as you watched each rider and horse pair complete their routine with near flawlessness, confidence, professionalism, and near perfect scores on maneuvers. 

Tyler would need to give it his all to bring home the NRHA world championship title for this season. 

You watched with bated breath as the pair before Tyler’s exited through the in-gate, applause and cheers ricocheting off the concrete and aluminum walls of the stadium. The announcer’s voice crackling and echoing through the speakers as the pairs score was displayed on the JumboTron that hung ominously above the center of the arena, threatening to crush Tyler's lifelong dream if a perfect score wasn't achieved. You fiddled with the competition program in your hand, waiting for the announcer to give the go ahead for Tyler Owens and Coppertone Boy, or as he was affectionately called at home, Copper, to enter the arena. 

“Come on, honeybee, I think you're more nervous than I am.” The fingers of your hand stop gingerly massaging into the muscle between Copper’s alert ears, eyes meeting Tyler’s unnervingly calm ones. You sighed, bringing your hand down to softly stroke the stallion’s velvet muzzle, looking back out at the arena that would be vacant for only a few moments more. “It's just the anticipation is all.”

He swallowed, dipping his heels down further against his stirrups, his weight settling on the back of the palomino American Quarter Horse. His thumb running along the smooth leather reins in his moderately calloused hands, his posture straightening. Tipping his hat on his head, eyes drifting from your almost perfect facade of calm collection to the no longer virginal arena footing. 

He gingerly scratched at Copper’s strong, gilded withers and neck concealed by the silken, alabaster strands of his freshly detangled mane, easing any anxiety the 10 year old stallion may have had. 

“Copper will take care of me out there, and I'm coming back, Sweets” his lip quirked into a gentle smirk, letting your anxiety ease a bit. 

Copper gently nudged you with his head, trying to get one last scratch in before entering. Or maybe to try to reassure you. “I know, I-,” you took a breath, licking your lips,” just really want this for you, and we're so close. I can taste it.” 

His eyes glazed a bit, a special kind of warmth spreading in his chest. You had helped him hitch the trailer to pick up Copper from the auction a few townships over back in his early twenties. You were the one who was with him every step of the way, through every high and frustrating low of training him and getting him ready for every competition. You were the one to stay up all night with him when Copper coliced during a muggy spring night a few years back. You were the one who encouraged him to try reining after his bull riding rodeo career came to a halt. You were the one to hide out with him on his family's ranch in Arkansas during the summer thunderstorms in the hayloft as kids and lovesick teenagers. And you were the first person he got to kiss out in the back field after the haying season was done, laying under the cover of Cassiopeia and The Big Dipper with homemade strawberry moonshine. It made the wedding band on a chain around his neck all the more meaningful. The microphone crackled as the announcer cleared his throat, announcing for Tyler to enter the arena. 

“Come on, baby, I need my good luck kiss before I go out there.” His urgent, but sweet, tone made you chuckle.  Stepping on your tippy toes, you met his lips that only seemed to get softer the more you kissed him. As your lips left his, you gave the stallion that gleamed like a new penny under the stadium lights a last, quick rub at his withers and a whispered “take care of him for me.” The stallion nudged his pink and gray muzzle into your side, letting out a puff of breath, seeming to listen and affirm your wish. 

You turned back to the man you had loved since you were a sophmore in highschool. “You'll get something a lot more when you come back.” You said softly with a flirtatious tone, trying to lighten the nerves that seemed to electrify your fingertips. Your eyes told an unspoken “whether you win, or lose.” His eyebrows rise before a smirk settles on his lips. “Looking forward to it darlin,” he winks before turning his attention to the packed arena. He gives the stallion a gentle squeeze of his sides with his calves to get him into a working walk, head low, and relaxed as his metal shoe-clad hooves rhythmically ricocheted off the pavement leading up to the arena as applause and whistles from the crowd marked his entrance like a gladiator entering the Colosseum. You watched him leave your side with bated breath. 

You always envied how he was able to feed off of the crowd instead of cowering under it, even when he was getting tossed around as a professional bull rider in the local rodeo circuit. It was a trait that Tyler and Copper had in common that made them a perfect pair.

You watched each calculated movement he whispered to Copper through his hands, legs, and seat. Each movement done in perfect harmony, from flying lead changes to each heart racing spin and rollback. You practically knew the routine like the back of your hand, softly mouthing the required movements right as Tyler and Copper conducted them with  complete poise and confidence. You couldn’t help but let your eyes flit back and forth from the golden stallion enrapturing the attention of the crowd and the judges scribbling down notes that had the potential to cut like a blade. Tyler had a calm, at-ease aura around him; his hands still with just the right amount of contact on the reins, loose hips and strong legs that wrapped around the barrel of the strong, powerful, and graceful horse below him. Copper’s ears kept at ease, each one flitting back to listen to each whispered task Tyler gave him. His mane and tail swayed beautifully with the rest of his muscular, golden dappled frame; steel horseshoes gleaming under the large overhead lights. You felt your anxiety rise as Tyler only had one maneuver left to accomplish- a sliding stop from a full gallop, the most exhilarating maneuver in reining.

Your breath felt like lead in your lungs as you watched each stride Copper took to complete his routine. With an impressive stall of his hind quarters, Copper planted himself against the arena footing to come to a full stop, his hind legs slightly folding under him as Tyler kept his body steady. The arena went quiet for only a second as Copper found his footing, remaining in a halt. As soon as the judges gave Tyler the go ahead to leave the arena, you jumped up in glee, applauding and whistling, just like the entirety of the arena   as Tyler gave Copper a loose rein, giving his strong neck deligent pats of encouragement and rubbing his withers as he made his way out of the arena at a working walk pace. After all, he had earned it. 

But would it be enough to win?

You couldn’t contain the smile on your face as Tyler met your gaze with a heart stopping grin, his handsome dimples on display, timothy grass green eyes shining for you as his chest rose and fell from his exertion, and the sweat evident under his Stetson at his hairline. 

As soon as he cleared the in-gate, he was out of the saddle and embracing you, lips on yours as you giggled against him as he picked you up and spun you around, your fingers splayed over his stubbly cheeks. Copper stood patiently as his reins hit the cement floor. Your fingers resting at the back of his neck, feeling his sweat, natural scent, and the smell of leather and horses caress your senses. 

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” you said, voice thick with tears bubbling beneath your eyes as your hands encased his gently stubbled cheeks, his grin matching your own, voice thick, “Honey, whatever happens, I’m-,” his eyes becoming glassy, “I’m just so glad I’ve been able to do this with you. I love you so goddamn much.” He brought your lips back to his in a sweet, love filled kiss that made your stomach flutter.  The crackle of the microphone breaks you both away from your kiss, his embrace still on your hips. Tyler cranes his neck to look up at the JumboTron. 

Your eyes widening, putting your hands over your mouth and looking up at Tyler’s shock-parted lips as the arena broke into cheers. Tyler swings you around by your hips before bringing you to his lips again. 

A perfect score. 

—

As soon as Tyler rode out on Copper with you by his side during the award ceremony, and your picture was taken with his NRHA Championship trophy and Copper got his red, blue, and yellow tri-colored ribbon, you both were ready to load up Copper and drive all the way back to Arkansas. 

Photographers, interviewers, and cameras followed your little group out of the arena. Tyler and Copper both walked with pride in a way that showed a healthy balance of confidence and natural charisma. Copper not once flinched as cameras flashed as Tyler had him periodically stop for interviewers to ask questions, reins loose in his hand. Copper seemed to almost pose for the camera with his ears forward and moving with momentum whenever the cameras flashed; aware that he had done a good job and was being appreciated. You, on the other hand, preferred to be on the other side of Copper’s strong withers, away from the cameras, gently running your hand along his glistening coat; it took you and Tyler countless hours for it to gleam like gold. 

“Who would you say is someone who has always supported you on the road to winning this NRHA world championship title?”

You felt like you were hiding behind the near two ton animal, peeking over his strong neck to watch Tyler with his tipped up Stetson and near alabaster dress shirt. He turned from the interviewer to you with an easy grin on his face, gently reaching behind him to take your hand from underneath Copper’s neck, bringing you around his large head and into Tyler’s chest, placing a kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks like wildfire as you gave the interviewer a shy toothy smile. 

“I’ve had the undeserved pleasure to have by my side, during this entire journey, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known; my wife.” You felt your throat tighten and tears start to bubble up in your eyes at his gesture, all while trying to subtly hide away into his shoulder as the interviewer seemed to soak up the sweet moment between the new NRHA world champion and his wife. 

“You’ll have to forgive her, my honeybee’s a bit shy.” he chuckled, the interviewer following suit before asking her final questions with you by his side. 

As the last of the interviewers left to talk to the other competitors, you and Tyler led Copper back to the trailer to get him bedded in the trailer for the long way home.

You tried to keep your thoughts pure as you walked through the trucks and trailers with Copper in tow, passing competitors that turned into friends; like Bradley Bradshaw and his oil black quarter horse gelding, Turn and Burn, and Natasha Trace and her sorrel chestnut mare, Rising Phoenix. Both of which had gotten in the top 5 tonight out of 38. 

But Tyler looked too good right now. Too good. And his display of affection in front of the interviewer made your insides warm and jumble inside you. 

His hair peeking out from under his stetson, the color subdued from sweat; his taut jeans around his slim waist; his obnoxiously large belt buckle that glimmered in the overhead lot lights; his flushed, sweat soaked skin; bright, fern green eyes, and the defined line of his jaw to his handsome dimples. 

It didn’t help that you got distracted watching him tend to Copper as you put the tack in the trailer, biting your lip as you watched the thin material of his shirt cling to his back muscles. 

“Honeybee, you alright over there?” You almost needed to shake your head out of your trance, before trying to quickly put the tack away in the closet of the trailer, trying to focus on the task at hand and not on your lewd thoughts. 

As soon as you turned around from putting the tack away, Tyler was at the entryway. Both hands on the edge of the storage space prevented any chance of escape, sluttily leaning his weight on the frame like the scantily-clad men in those romance books Tyler always teased you for reading. He didn’t have anything to complain about though; he reaped the reward of it everytime. 

Your eyes met his mischief filled ones. “You got something on your mind, Honey?” 

You diverted your gaze from his eyes to his Stetson. He noticed, promptly removing it and placing it over his denim-clad pelvis with a teasing smile as he saw your eyes follow his movement. He always loved the dust of pink on your cheeks when he flirted with you. He took a step into the trailer, feeling his intoxicating scent invade your senses. 

You took a step forward, letting your eyes obscenely run over from his sweat-slicked back hair, to the slight crook in his nose, to his plush lips. Leaning into his ear, “I’ll tell you once Copper is in the trailer. Fed and watered.” Tyler almost shivered at the barely decent tone you used. You both were in a public space for Christ’s sake. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

You bit your lip, a chuckle vibrating in your chest at his pace towards the patient stallion grazing from his well deserved hay bag as soon the words left your lips.

—

After ensuring all of your belongings were packed away, you went to check on Tyler and Copper. As you turned the corner, Tyler was just finishing up putting the latches on the trailer. “How’s our big guy doing?” You asked, leaning against the side of the trailer. 

He turned to you, “fed, watered, and out like a light. Copper’s going to sleep well on the ride home. Gave him a few extra flakes of hay to keep him occupied.”

“Now,” he took a step closer to you, a smirk painted across his lips, “I wanna hear what was on your mind earlier, pretty girl,” he purred. 

You took a step closer to him with a flirtatious smile blooming on your face, reaching out for his belt loops on his jeans. 

— 

“Honeybee,” he whimpered, heading hitting back against his truck as you sunk to the dusty ground beneath your knees, scrambling to unbuckle his obnoxiously large belt buckle, and unzipping his denim jeans with a harsh tug. He hissed, “careful, sweets, don't want to damage the goods,” you chuckled before bringing his jeans down to his knees. His breath freezing in his throat as you ran your palms against his defined Adonis belt and abs, scratching at the hair of his happy trail as your smooth palm found its home - wrapped around his thick, pulsing cock in his briefs. Tyler's eyes clenched shut, a hiss leaking from his kiss-swollen lips as you began to pump him in a corkscrew motion. God, he looked so good like this. Letting you take care of him and make him crumble beneath the palms of your hands. 

“Jesus, sweetheart.” His hips stuttered as you gave his oh so sensitive, engorged tip delicate kitten licks before taking him into your mouth, sucking softly. Eyes drifting shut as you savored the subtle musk of your husband and the salty taste of the precum leaking out of his cock. You hummed around his dick as his fingers weaved into your hair, keeping his cock encased in your hot mouth. 

Jesus, the glorious sight in your mind- Tyler’s head and Stetson tipped back, lips agape, cheeks flushed pink with sweat and arousal, dress shirt unbuttoned, strong abdominal and pectoral muscles exposed from years of ranch work, hips jutting out as his jeans and briefs tethered his ankles as you worked his fat cock. 

A sound akin to a mewl left his lips as you bobbed your head along his length, working his cock with your saliva soaked hand. 

“Oh fu- baby, that feels so fucking good.” His graveled voice made you clench your thighs, his eyes opening to see you pumping his cock as you playfully sucked on his balls. Saliva dribbling down your lips to the dirt below, leaving your mark on the event grounds. Your sinful acts hidden in the shadows of your truck and trailer. 

This was definitely the best way to celebrate a world championship win, he thought through a hazy conscience as he failed to find a steady tempo of breath. 

You could feel the tightness of his balls and the steady throbbing of the vein running underneath his thick cock. His fingers tightening in your hair. 

“God-Fuck-” His trail of words were cut off with a deep groan he tried to muffle the best he could.

 His hand kept your mouth around his cock as he shot his load down your welcoming throat, letting you swallow every hot drop he had to give. His body slumping against the truck, catching his breath as you rose up off the dirt, tenderly tucking him back into his jeans, bringing your lips to his. 

After a few moments, Tyler deepened the kiss,  reaching for the backseat door. He broke away from your lips, littering your neck and collarbones with messy, open-mouthed kisses. Your lips would get swollen soon from how hard you were biting them to conceal your mewls. His hands palmed and toyed with your cotton-clad breasts, feeling his calloused fingers slide under your t-shirt to fondle at your steadily peaking nipples. “Baby, we might need to do this half-clothed,” you murmured against his lips. He let his lips leave yours, realizing where you guys were: on the outskirts of the arena grounds. 

“Well, Honeybee, we’ll just have to do it with your pants down then, pretty girl.” He smiled sinfully. His gravelly tone always made you clench your thighs in need, and feel excited and jittery inside; like a new-born foal learning to run. 

He stripped off his dress shirt, leaving him with chest and abs exposed in the shadow of the truck. Before you had the chance to admire his half-bare body, he was unzipping your jeans and pulling them down along with your panties in one fell swoop. He guided your legs out of them before placing his beloved Stetson on your head. The sight of you bare below the waist and his white stetson had his cock twitching again. 

He hopped on the seat, laying down on the leather upholstery. “Come on, honey girl, get up here. I want a taste.” He purred, eyes raking from your face down to the little honey stash between your thighs with a Cheshire-like grin. 

You chuckled, excitement thrumming through your belly like a current of electricity. His hands guided your hips over his twitching dick, over his thick pecs, and right above where he wanted you. Your breath catches in your throat as Tyler brings your hips down with his broad hands, clutching at your soft waist as he starts lapping at your drenched core.  

“Fuck, Ty-” you clutched at his tufts of hair that peaked through your fingers, like the daisies in the hayfields. He toyed with your clit, his stubble scratching deliciously against your sensitive inner thighs. He gently sucked on your clit to pull each sweet moan and gasp from your lips. His thick fingers forming troughs along the soft flesh of your hips and thighs, keeping your weeping pussy pinned above his eager mouth. 

“Please.”

He grunted as your hips rocked against him, his grip tightening on your hips, guiding your movements. Your head tipping back as your thoughts failed to construe into something tangible besides broken moans and words. It’s amazing how Tyler’s Stetson has stayed on during your impromptu ride. 

God, the sight he had from below your thighs; black t-shirt riding up to just below your bra, your hands clutching at his hair and your covered breasts, beautiful parted lips, reddened cheeks and his staple atop your head.

You looked divine like this. Hell, you were divine for wanting to marry him in the first place. 

He gave your clit a delicate kiss, just enough to make you whine a little. Littering kisses along your inner thighs, feeling the tender flesh quake above him as you protested him giving attention to places that weren’t where you needed him to be. He licked his lips savoring the sweet taste of you on his tongue, and gently teased two fingers at your entrance making you gasp and whimper at the intrusion.

“Baby, you look so good from down here, so fucking good.”

His graveled voice was marked by a unique breathlessness that times like these brought him. Your hands pushed your t-shirt up and your bra down to toy with your exposed breasts and perky nipples as the Oklahoma evening air pebbled them. Your hazy gaze looking downward at your lover’s tousled hair, flushed cheeks and lust-blown pupils with a characteristic devilish grin on his arousal soaked lips.

“Fuck, baby”

He smiled as he guided his fingers into your welcoming heat, your pretty moans music to his ears. 

His fingers finding the perfect tempo against that little spot inside you that made your toes curl against the upholstery of the car. His free hand holding an iron grip on your hip, keeping you steady.

If you hadn’t felt like you were going to cum before, you were now.  

Tyler could feel your velvet walls constrict around his welcomed digits. A soft yelp leaves your lips as he finds your clit again; toying and sucking at the delicate bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. He sucked harder the more you pulled at his hair.

“Tyler, I’m so close, please make me cum baby-please.”

The wanton, sultry tone your voice got in this state made him ache in his jeans and move his fingers that much more eagerly. 

You felt the familiar build up of pleasure in your tummy and the sparks of pleasure traveling from your toes. Tyler watched as you fell apart over him with a wracked moan of his name as his fingers continued to rub that special spot inside you, and as he continued to toy with your poor, abused clit.

He slowed his movements to a halt, letting his fingers leave to hold your hips steady, bringing his lips to languidly kiss and lathe at your cum soaked folds, drawing out any last sparks of pleasure and the sweet, little noises you always made for him. 

Your thighs shook with the aftermath of your orgasm, your body still ringing with small sparks of pleasure and sensitivity, your whimpers pouring out. 

He lathed his last set of kisses to your pussy before sliding your hips down to rest over his throbbing dick, hidden behind a layer of denim. 

Tyler brought both hands to encase your face, bringing your lips to his in a kiss full of teeth and tongue, your mouth going to the prominent vein on the side of his neck, lathing and marking the flesh as your own, spurred on by the deep groans of the man underneath you. He growled, feeling you bite into the skin there. It would surprise him if you didn’t draw blood. 

“I want to ride your thick cock, baby.” you simpered.

“Fuck, you make me so hard, Honeybee.” He growled, feeling you unzip his jeans, pulling out his aching cock and lining him up at your entrance. Gently teasing the tip, running it along your folds, letting it soak up your arousal. You smirked as you listened to the borderline moans that reverberated from his chest. He felt his eyes almost roll back at the feeling of your walls welcoming him in; back home. You watched with lust hazed eyes as his face was consumed with tension; his eyes clenched shut, brow lines rippling the tanned skin of his forehead, his tense jaw and kiss swollen lips. 

He guided your hips, savoring the feeling of you. His hips bucking up into your awaiting pussy as he got more and more invigorated for his release. 

“Fuck, Honey-fuck!” He growled as he felt your walls squeeze him for all he was worth. 

“God, you’re always so good for me, such a good fucking girl” he said as he held your hips tighter, fucking up into you at a faster pace than before. Gasps and moans falling from your lips as he pummeled that sweet, heavenly spot inside you that had you seeing a kaleidoscope of sensations behind your eyes, and your fingers clawing at his pecs and shoulders for stability. Tyler could feel the coil in his stomach tightening as his release was barreling towards him like a train going into a station. His abs tightening, pace unrelenting as he chased his high. He could feel you were close with this new set pace, your lips parted as sweet sounds echoed from your lips. He held on until he felt your walls snap close on him like a vice, your thighs shaking as your high washed over him with a broken moan and tremor. His hips rose, fucking into you one last time before releasing his hot load into your pretty pussy with a deep growl. 

—

He gingerly pulled up your panties, keeping his cum trapped between your folds. He snapped the button of your jeans closed as he languidly made out with you. He changed into a t-shirt that hugged his biceps just right, keeping his jeans on. You both silently changed into your new set of clothes with content, lovesick smiles on your face. You gave him a kiss as he passed you his sweatshirt to wear during the ride home. 

You both settled into the front seat of the truck. By now, most people had gone home, the bright stars above watching over you. He placed his Stetson on the backseat, smirking as he watched you reach out for the cowboy hat, placing it on your head with a cute smile that made him smirk and shake his head. 

He leaned over, placing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“I love you, Honeybee.”

“I love you too, Ty.”

You give his thick thigh a squeeze, smiling as he groans into the kiss. He pulled black from the kiss, putting the truck into drive. As soon as his hand is free, he takes your hand in his, making your cheeks warm at the gesture, kissing the back of it as he pulls out of the dirt road onto the interstate towards Arkansas.

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[eroscomet]

Young and Dumb?

OneShot

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Paring: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader (leans a bit into mass not too much)

Context: Two strangers meet by chance in a small bookstore and quickly hit it off. What starts as some witty banter about books turns into a deeper connection. Before they know it, they’re caught up in a whirlwind of emotions and make a few bold, spur-of-the-moment choices. It’s a story about love, fate, and taking risks when nothing makes sense, but everything feels right.

Warnings: Honestly, none that are concerning. This is mostly fluff.

Word count: 3.7k

Song inspiration: Marry You by Bruno Mars

A/N: Helloooo lovelies! A little bit of a late update from me but I decided to actually write something. Not even going to lie, I continuously had to take breaks inbetween writing but I was determined to get it done today. I wanted to give you guys a little something extra for all the support that I've been recieving. Thank you all so much for reading! This was meant to be a drabble but turned into a oneshot. Hope you guys enjoy!

Not proof read

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Time, you've always felt like it went by extremely fast. Spending your evenings after work at a bookstore helping customers as if you work there. The manager had even offered evening shifts but you had politely declined at the time but still, he'd insisted that the offer stood. Oftentimes, the bookstore was empty anyway, leaving you alone to browse and read different bits of books if not the whole thing. You had a knack for reading some heavier topics if not philosophical or psychological ones.

This day had been no different than the others. Like clockwork, you left your job and headed for the bookstore near your home. You weren't the richest but you certainly weren't the poorest, being able to accomodate yourself to a middle-class life. Enough money to have a fairly sized home and have a couple of nice things outside of necessities.You walk into the store, greeting the workers, who over time became your friends, with a smile before heading to a section that you haven't yet looked over.

Your eyes scanned the various books, enjoying the silence of the library along with the vague sound of classical music playing. Your hand brushed over the different spines of the books, reading the titles. You weren't looking for anything specific, just something that would catch your attention. When reaching for a book on one of the upper shelves, the book had pushed the book on the other side of the bookshelf, off the shelf. That's when you hear a small noise, andsuddenly become alert to the fact that you might've hurt someone you hadn't known as there.

"Ouch!" Was the small heard you heard before carefully holding the book in your hand and heading to the other aisle quickly.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know anyone was here. Are you alright?" You asked as you approached the girl, leaning down and grabbing the book that had fallen off of the floor with the same hand that held the book you had earlier been interested in.

"Yeah, I'm fine... It just hurts a bit." The girl replied sheepishly as rubbed the top of her head with her palm, careful not to mess up her hair. "Thank you. And you, you work here?"

"Me? No, no. However, I can tell you about practically everything here. I spend a lot of time in here, I know the sections if you need help." You replied, returning her a bashful smile as you looked at the shorter girl.

The black-haired girl had scanned your face for a moment, taking note of the bit of shyness and embarrassment your smile held. She couldn't stop a small smile from appearing on her lips as well.

"Is that so? I could use some recommendations, I'm looking for something to get me out of a reading slump. Anything that's not romance."

"Hm.. Try, The Myth of Sisyphus by Albert Camus." You replied as you raised the book that you had grabbed earlier in your hand. "Now that is my kind of book."

Your eyes took note of her expression changing from a small smile to not a slight frown after hearing your recommendation.

"Philosophy, really?" She had asked, a bit skeptical at the recommendation. It wasn't something she would've expected of the girl in front of her.

"What is the matter with Philosophy?" You asked, quirking an eyebrow at the shorter girl. "Alright, how about...The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky?"

"Dostoevsky, Oh my, It's getting heavier and heavier. Don't you have a lighter recommendation?" 

"Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Suskind."

Her expression once changed to a now more slightly amused one. She was a bit surprised at the recommendation as now the suggestions had fallen into the horror genre. 

"And what's that? A psycho love story or a slasher?"

"Both? It falls more into the theme of obsession."

"I don't know whether to be impressed or scared of your taste in books now." She replied with a small laugh.

"I read just about anything and everything." You stated with a hum and a small smile at the girl's laughter.

"Everything?" She asked in a curious tone, tilting her head to the side. She couldn't imagine someone reading every genre there was. "I'm sure that's not possible, there's so many genres. I mean, I doubt you ever read romance."

"So, you've caught me," You said as you put your hands up for a moment, pretending to be in surrender. "I try but I can't get myself to do it. What's the point of reading a story about a perfectly happy couple and how they met? It's boring to me, add a slasher or some kind of deep-rooted hurting between the two and I'll think about it."

"You prefer a little bit of drama in your love stories, huh?"

"I suppose some."

She eyed you for a moment before speaking again, "You seem to like a bit of everything in your reading preferences. What about movies? Are you into horror in the movie world too?"

"And if I were to say that I don't keep up with movies? That I'd rather read the books that the movies are based on? Everyone knows the book is better than the movie."

"A woman of culture, I see. And I agree with you that most of the time the book is better. But I find it hard to believe that you don't watch any movies at all."

"Some here and there." You replied with a hum and a shrug. "Why? Are you cultured in movies, then?"

"Me? Of course, I am. Movies, old and new, I watch them all. So tell me, what's the last movie you watched recently?"

You took a pause for a moment, thinking back to the last movie you watched, "Black Swan."

"Black Swan, I remember that one. Disturbing, but excellent. Did you know that it is based on Swan Lake, the ballet?"

"I knew of the ballet far before I knew of the movie."

"Oh, of course, that makes sense. You're passionate about classic literature; naturally, you would know about Swan Lake as a ballet." She paused for a moment before speaking again, "Are you a ballet aficionado or just a fan of Black Swan?"

"I'm just aware of the theatre arts rather than film arts.

"So, you prefer the theatre, hm? It's no wonder you'd like Black Swan, then. But what about Literature? You know something besides Fydor Dostoevsky and Albert Camus?"

"Immanuel Kant?" You replied, a bit of uncertainty in your voice while awaiting her reaction.

"Ah, Immanuel Kant, a lover of ethics. I can definitely place you in the philosophy section now. So you like Kant? That explains why you recommended Albert Camus' work as if it were a lighthearted romance. You've got very specifictastes."

"I like to contemplate life, existential crisis' are my favorite. What better way to feel real than to feel fake?" You joked with a small laugh.

"I was expecting something else when you started talking about that kind of crisis, especially coming from a girl like you." She tilted her head, her brown eyes fixed on you, "But I have to admit, you've piqued my interest even more. You're not just a pretty face, you've got substance."

"So you think I have a pretty face." You replied with a smile as you tilted your head to the side, "Good to know, stranger girl."

"Stranger girl, huh? What if I said I wanted to change that? I want to know more about the mysterious girl with great taste in art but weird taste in romance."

"Now, would that really be a good idea? I'm a new face, I could take after the books I read, you know? You give up too easy." After a beat, you spoke again. "I could be your come-to-life Joe Goldberg and you wouldn't know a thing. Was he not book smart as well?"

"You bring up Joe Goldberg when I've just called you mysterious, huh? That's quite a way to flirt. Don't tell me you think I'm as easy as Beck."

"Then, what? You're....my Love Quinn?" You ask with a smile.

"Love Quinn? You wish." She paused for a moment, obviously in thought, "More like...Marianne. Don't you think?"

"Marine, the one that got away? I'd hope not."

"Oh, please. I'm not saying for you to be like Joe Goldberg. I was just comparing myself to Marianne. But if you want to be my book girlfriend, be a bit more... Joe-like. Think you can do that, mystery girl?"

"Who's to say that I haven't been this entire time? A naive girl at a bookstore, a book falls onto her head, catching the attention of me and what do you know, she's pretty too. Begin engaging in talks about books, seeming more and more interested in me the more that I talk. You like that I read. You like that I can keep up. You like the understanding." You said trying to mimic your best Joe Goldberg inner monologue impression. "Is that Joe enough for you?"

"Now we're getting somewhere." The shorter girl replied as she leaned against the bookshelf next to her. "Say, you look tall enough to reach that book without a stool."

Your eyes darted over to the book she pointed at where a copy of Crime and Punishment resided.

"Dostoevsky." You said with a smile, putting the book that was in your hand that had fallen onto the shorter girl's head,back onto the bookshelf. Then, you grabbed Crime and Punishment handing it to her, their hands brushing for a moment, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by the girl.

"Impressive. And very "Joe-esque" of you."

"Hello, you." You said, mocking the line in the show, earning a laugh from the shorter girl.

"Now you're just mocking me." She said while tilted her head to the side. "You really do like to mess up the cliché romance scenarios, don't you?"

"Maybe then I wouldn't have to lock you in my basement."

The shorter girl almost laughed aloud at your statement, her smile widening. She found herself really enjoying the banter and the back and forth with you, it had been a while since she'd had such an intriguing conversation with anyone.

"I was wondering when you would bring up the basement. But I must say, I'm quite pleased. You're not disappointing me so far, mystery girl."

"I don't disappoint. How would you be my Love, tell me?" You asked before speaking after a beat, "Would you be like Love in season three?"

"Now, Love's a character that's a bit complicated..." She said with a smile before pausing, "But if you're asking if I would be obsessed with you...maybe a little bit more than Love was."

"Sign me up. I'm Y/N, Y/N L/N." You said returning the smile as you offered her your hand to shake.

"Jenna. Jenna Ortega." Jenna replied as she held onto your hand after shaking it, "So, Angel, what's your next move? Are you gonna charm me with your witty banter or are you going to ask for my number already?

"We can skip bot and put you in my basement already." You joked with a small laugh.

"Oh really? Just gonna skip right to locking me up in your basement. How romantic of you."

━━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━━

Before they knew it, the two of you were back at your house. Not being able to make it through the front door without already throwing themselves onto each other. Jenna's hands roamed all over your body, exploring every inch of skin that she could reach. It was a heated and passionate moment that took over Jenna completely, leaving no room for rational thoughts or hesitations. She was lost in the moment, only aware of the feel of your hands on her, the taste of her lips, the sound of their heavy breaths.

You pulled away from the kiss with a smile as you shut the door behind the two of you. Your back leaning against the front door.

"God, you're a good kisser." Jenna let out a breathless laugh.

"Yeah?" You murmured breathlessly with a hum as she leaned into Jenna's touch. "Now, like Joe Goldberg, I don't want you just to get laid or any of that. Not after just meeting you. So, coffee or tea?"

"Coffee, please. And don't worry, I'm not the type to just.... get laid and forget about it either." Her hand cupped your cheek and gently caressed it.

"I like the whole domestic feel, sometimes. You can't have that with a one-night-stand."

"You're not wrong about that." Her thumb not tracing your jawline gently. You hummed softly in reply as you pressed a peck to Jenna's lips.

"You're so sweet." She murmured against your lips. Not pulling too far away, just enough to press your forehead against Jenna's.

"Gosh, you're really good at this..." Her hand moves to cup the back of your neck. 

"At what?"

"This..." She mumbled softly, "You just...make me feel so... I don't really know how to explain it."

"I could marry you off this very feeling."

"You'd marry me just like this?"

"Just like this."

"And what if I say...yes?"

"We...elope?"

"Now that would be a sight." Her fingers caressed the back of Angel's neck. The idea was insane, it sounded like a plot from cheesy rom-coms that she loved so much, "Where would we go? Do you think you could convince me to run off to Vegas?"

"Is it bad that I was also thinking Vegas?"

"Oh my gosh. We're both crazy." She replied with a smile on her lips only widened as she looked at you. The idea of eloping to Vegas was growing more and more appealing by the second to her. Just the two of them, no fuss or big wedding, just them, in Vegas, making a spontaneous decision that was probably completely reckless and irresponsible, "Do you think we should do it? Just...jump into it?"

━━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━━

"What are we doing? I mean, seriously!" Jenna said, in the passenger seat of your car, trying to speak over the blaring music and the wind entering the car from the windows down.

"Making you my wife." You replied back enthusiastically with a smile as you glanced over at Jenna in the passenger seat before returning your gaze to the road, "I don't know, I like it! Wife. My wife!"

"Your wife." She repeated with a smile as she shook her head.

"My wife, my wife, my wife. Me and my wife." You said as if tasting the sound of the words off of your tongue and liking it.

"My wife, my wife." She repeated after you, basking in the new words as well.

━━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━━

What better way to have your wedding than to have an Elvis impersonator officiate it in a small chapel in the middle of the night?

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the matrimony of Y/N and Jenna, alright now." The Elvis impersonator began which began to feel like a blur to you and before you knew it...

"I, Jenna, take you, Y/N, to be my lawfully wedded wife. I promise to love, honor, cherish, and respect you, in sickness and in health, in good moments and in bad, till death do us part." 

The words hung in the air, the promise of forever in their commitment.

"I, Y/N, take you, Jenna, to be lawfully wedded wife. I promise to love, honor, cherish, and support you, in health and sickness, in joy and in hardship, till death do us part.

The words from both of them were met with a moment of silence. The vows felt as if they echoed through the small chapel, filling the air with a mix of anticipation and gravity. The Elvis impersonator smiled and said a couple of more things before allowing you to slip the ring onto Jenna's finger. Your touch was firm and gentle, each movement a silent declaration of commitment. Then Jenna slipped a ring onto your finger, the cool metal felt heavy on your finger, a tangible symbol of the promises they had just made.

"By the power not invested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you wife and wife. You may kiss." 

The words hung in the air, each syllable seeming to carry a profound weight, and then...you closed the distance between the two of you, your arms wrapping around Jenna's waist, pulling her closer. And then, your lips met in a kiss, soft and gentle, yet filled with a promise of forever.

The kiss was simple yet profound, a gentle press of lips that sealed the promises they had just made. The chapel's silence was filled with the echo of their commitment... with the knowledge that they were now truly bound together, for better or for worse, for as long as they both lived.

For a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them and the soft sound of their breaths mixing together. The kiss was slow and tender, a silent confirmation of the promises they had just spoken, a wordless promise of love and devotion. As their lips parted, Jenna opened her eyes, meeting your gaze, her heart thudding loudly in her chest.

They were, in fact, married. Married on a spontaneous, impulsive, and wonderfully crazy night in Vegas.

━━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━━

For the rest of the night until early in the morning, the two practically ran around Vegas together happily. After getting a hotel room, the two simply found themselves jumping on the freshly made hotel bed. 

Jenna squealed as she landed on the bed, the soft mattress bouncing beneath her. She couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up from her chest, the sound tinged with both amusement and disbelief at the absurdity of the whole situation.

"We just got married, in Vegas, in a spur-of-the-moment decision, and we're celebrating by jumping on the bed like teenage kids?" She let out another laugh, shaking her head as she jumped, her hair messily tousled from the jumping.

"Live a little! We're all kids at heart!" You replied with a laugh as well, jumping on the bed next to Jenna.

"True, true!" Jenna replied, a grin spreading across her face. The feeling of you jumping alongside her on the bed, laughter mixing in the air, was liberating. 

They were adults, newlyweds even, and yet, in that moment, they were carefree and childish. The bed continued to bounce with their movements, Jenna's giggles growing louder as she playfully flopped back on the mattress. You flopped down next to Jenna, pulling off your tie.

"You look good in a suit, wife," Jenna said as she watched you remove your tie, her eyes drawn to the movement of the thin fabric as it unraveled. The image of her new wife, still in her suit, lying beside her on the bed was oddly appealing. She hadn't taken the moment to realize how good you had looked.

The word 'wife' had an unfamiliar ring to it, but Jenna found she liked the way it rolled off her tongue. She shifted a little closer to you.

"I'm sure you look in everything," You replied with a soft smile, tucking back Jenna's hair behind her ear gently, "And tonight, you look perfect, my wife."

"What a cheesy line, wife." She teased affectionately.

"You must be my weakness, then. Making me say cheesy things to get you to smile. I must be doing something right if you married me."

Jenna pretended to pout at your words, her eyes narrowing as though she was annoyed by the comment, but there was a hint of a grin on her lips, a tell-tale sign that she found your cheesy words endearing, if not endearing, very adorable. She moved a little closer until they were lying side by side on the bed, their bodies snuggled together. 

"I must be weak then. I just married some charming idiot, just because she made me laugh a few times." Her words were playful, her words a soft tease. She reached for your hand, interlocking their fingers and bringing it up to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your knuckles. The simple gesture was both endearing and affectionate, a subtle reminder that despite the impulsiveness of their marriage, there was a layer of genuine connection between the two of you.

"Well... I'll take care of you. Treat you good. Right, even. Better than. I promise." You replied in a soft and genuine tone, earning a soft laugh from Jenna. The idea that she needed to be 'taken care of' seemed laughable—she was a strong, independent woman, But the way you said it, with such sincerity and devotion, touched her. She returned the gaze, her eyes softening as she looked into your eyes. The intimacy between them was almost palpable, the air thick with a mix of adoration and vulnerability.

"I promise that I'll always be gentle, never harsh. Never put a hand in a fight. We will have disagreements, not fights. I'll always listen and understand your side before I ever counter against it. I know that I don't know you well enough to know if you like being taken care of but I don't mean it in the way you think. I mean it in the way where your soul and heart have needs that I want to provide, that I will provide." Your hand gently caresses Jenna's as well.

"You're too good to be real, you know that?" She mumbled softly as she thought out your words.

"I promise to keep you safe and make you always feel safe around me. I promise to hold and comfort you whenever you need it. AS well as reassure you about anything or anyone that you are beginning to feel insecure about." Your forehead pressed against her as you spoke in a soft and genuine tone.

The reassurances, the care, and the concern...it was all so new, so strange, yet it felt right. It felt safe, like something she wanted to hold onto.

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

A/N: Hey lovelies! Thank you so much for reading! If you're new, feel free to look at my other works. I hope you enjoyed! Let me know if I should add any warnings to this. Love you all, bye!

[soaps-mohawk]

Plans For The Rest Of The Year

Since we are in November, it's time to touch on some things I've been thinking about over my month long break.

First things first, CRCB will continue but there's going to be some changes to the update schedule. I will not be doing weekly updates anymore. It's just not possible anymore. It was a stretch back when I was lucky enough to have the ability to do weekly updates, but now with work and the upcoming holiday season, it just won't be possible anymore for me to do weekly updates.

Instead, I'm going back to how things were in the beginning. Those of you who are OGs will remember that I kind of just updated whenever I had a chapter done and that's what the update schedule is going to look like going forward. It probably will remain that way for the rest of the duration of the story since come January I will be going back to school and also working on moving. This will also allow more time to answer comments and asks and not make me feel like I have to crunch to get things answered within a week along with writing the chapter. I'm very sorry to everyone who will be disappointed, but for my own sanity I have to just update whenever I can manage to get a chapter done.

That being said, there will be some other changes. During the break I worked on an old fic for a different fandom, and I honestly kind of miss writing for other fandoms. So that's also going to play into CRCB's update schedule. Sometimes I just want to (and need to) write other things, and I'm going to allow myself to do that. I also have some other COD fics (shorter fics) that I'd love to work on as well when the inspiration comes so it won't just be no content until the next part of CRCB. There will be other things posted as well. Those of you subscribed to my Patreon, you'll be getting a similar post but with some other things regarding content there soon.

That's the plan moving forward at least for now. The end of this year and next year are going to be very busy for me with a lot of changes, so I have to adapt this hobby to fit into my real life schedule. Since that's what this all is. A hobby. It's not my job (even though I wish it could be) so it has to be sacrificed a bit in favor of things going on in my real life. I'll still be writing and posting and updating stories, it just won't be nearly to the extent that I was before October.

There probably won't be a CRCB chapter this weekend since I don't have one ready yet, but potentially at some point next week. I'll probably make a post here the day before the chapter will be posted, and I for sure will post on my taglist blog the same time that the chapter drops here so make sure you're following there and have notifications on if you want to be notified of when the new chapters are coming out.

I think that's all I have for now regarding this blog and CRCB and what's going to happen going forward. Again, I'm very sorry for everyone who I'm going to inevitably disappoint with this news, but things just have to be this way.

I hope you all have a good day and I will see you probably later when I answer some of the asks sitting in my inbox.

[mapiforpresident]

Hi, can you please do prompt 18 with Mapi x Ingrid x reader?

Late night baking

You were craving chocolate chip cookies. Mapi and Ingrid help you bake some.

mapi x reader x ingrid

~~~

You were currently laid out on the couch with your head in Ingrids lap and your torso over Mapi's lap as the three of you watched the men's Barça game that was about to end. Ingrid was carding her hands softly through your hair as Mapi kept yelling curse words at the TV almost knocking you onto the floor.

You had already eaten dinner. Mapi had picked up sushi on her way home from her gym session that ran longer than yours and Ingrid's regular training session.

"I want a cookie," you whined out once there were only a couple seconds left in the game. You had been craving a good chocolate chip cookie all day since Patri was talking about some this morning from this new bakery she found.

"We don't have any love, Mapi ate the last one before dinner," Ingrid told you laughing at the glare you sent your other girlfriend. Mapi immediately looked betrayed and pushed you off of her and ran to the bedroom.

You got up after her and ran to the bedroom door and started knocking on it loudly as Ingrid watched on in amusement.

"I'm sorry amor, please do not hurt me. I did not know you want it." Mapi said as you still pounded on the door demanding she open it.

"I bake, I make you more. We have ingredients. We bake some." Mapi desperately yelled in English trying to get her point across once you still hadn't accepted her apology.

You thought about it for a moment, you did have the ingredients and a fresh one warm out of the oven did sound good. Although you knew Ingrid would have to help with the baking process since you and Mapi were not allowed alone in the kitchen together.

"Fine, but if they don't taste as good then I will tell Alexia that you were the one that dented her car door and she will make you run laps for a week straight." you finally replied as Mapi slowly opened the door.

"No, no please not tell Ale. They will taste good. Ingrid will help I promise." Mapi said as she went over to ask Ingrid to help them bake some new cookies.

~~~

A couple minutes later, you and Mapi had made up and were standing in the kitchen tying each others aprons as Ingrid pulled out all the necessary ingredients.

"Can we please use the dark chocolate chips those are my favorite," you asked Ingrid as you finished tying Mapi's apron.

"Of course, let me grab them."

As Ingrid grabbed all the ingredients, Mapi finished tying your apron, turning you around and pecking your lips to let you know she was done. You pulled her in and kissed her again never getting enough of your shorter girlfriends soft lips. Mapi immediately kissed you back, deepening it and slipping her tongue into your mouth. A couple seconds later you felt a kitchen towel hit your ass.

"You guys are worse than horny teenagers, these cookies will not bake themselves and I am not doing all the work. Mapi preheat the oven and y/n come help me mix the dry ingredients together," Ingrid said as you rubbed where the towel hit you.

You frowned at her, but she just laughed at pecked your lips making you immediately perk up. Mapi did as she was told as you added the flour and sugar into a big bowl before Ingrid stirred the mixture.

After all the hard work was done, Mapi put the trays in the oven. While you waited the three of you rewatched an old Barca game.

Finally, the timer went off, and the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air. You rushed to the oven, pulling out the tray, and the sight of the golden-brown cookies made your mouth water.

“Are they perfect?” Mapi asked, peeking over your shoulder.

“Let’s find out!” You took one out, letting it cool for a moment before breaking it in half to reveal the gooey chocolate inside. You took a bite, and your eyes lit up. “These are so good!”

“Oh thank god!” Mapi said as she grabbed a cookie for herself.

[reiderwriter]

hi i love your writing

could you do something with reid loving that reader is pregnant. fluff or smut or both

A/N Hello! Thanks for the request! Dad!Spencer is the cutest thing on the planet so this is some unapologetic fluff. And now I have baby fever.

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, idiots in love. Loosely based on Haley and Hotch's conversation in 1x1. Very fluffy and probably very cheesy and sentimental too... Sorry, you give me girl dad Spencer and suddenly there isn't an impure thought in my head, I just want to lovingly stare at him like I'm the dead wife in an action movie montage.

My requests are open, check out my masterlist for more 🌸

“Okay, what about Amelia?”

“No, Amelia Dyer, Victorian serial killer. She killed multiple infants over a thirty-year period.”

“Okay, okay, how about, Myra?”

“Myra Hindley, she and her partner Ian Brady abducted and killed five children and teens in the early sixties.”

“God, not that then. There can’t be a psychopathic murderer called Belle, right?”

“You’re making this too easy for me, y’know. Belle Gunness, Hell’s Belle, she’s one of the most prolific female serial killers of all time, even 100 years after her supposed death. It’s fascinating, you know, people think that she actually faked her death - when the doctor who performed the postmortem testified, he noted that the cadaver was about five inches shorter and about fifty pounds lighter than Gunness supposedly was….” You raise a single eyebrow at your wonderful husband, and he immediately shuts up.

“I’m rambling aren’t I?” He smiled down at you as you sat curled up as much as you could in your favorite spot on the couch, the cosiest part of your shared apartment. You smiled back up at him as he leaned down for a kiss and you gladly craned your neck up in response, meeting his lips for a sweet moment.

“Hotch was right you know,” you joked when the two of you parted. “All of the best baby names have been taken by serial killers.”

“Yeah, you’d think with the ratio of female to male serial killers, a girl would be easier to name.” He leans down to kiss you again before falling into a crouch next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and placing his hand on your stomach.

“How big did you say our little girl is now?”

“Y/N, you asked me that half an hour ago. I know pregnancy messes with your brain a bit, but if you’re that bad we’re going to have to get you back to Dr Patel and see if you’re doing okay.” He was joking of course, but you showed him your little pout anyway, knowing that he loved seeing the silly expression on your face.

“Humor me, Doctor.” He strokes your stomach and moves away, but not too far away, taking up right next to you on the couch, and pulling your legs over his lap.

“At five months, she’s roughly 10 inches long with a weight of about 0.5-1 pound. But that ‘How Big is My Baby’ book would say that she’s roughly one banana in length.” You giggled up at him and he grabbed your hand and just held it, content to have you in his arms in any way, big or small.

“I can’t believe it’s been five months already,” you giggle as he presses another kiss to your hand.

“I get it. It doesn’t feel quite real yet to me, either. I thought for so long that fatherhood just wasn’t in my future, but you’re the gift that keeps on giving I guess. I don't know what I did to deserve you.” Even if the words weren’t so sweet, with all of the hormones, you would’ve started crying at anything. Or at least that’s what you’re going to tell him when he sees the small tears threatening to drop into enormous loving sobs.

“Spencer Reid, I am not a gift. I am simply the woman with the correct combination of sense and foolish luck that got to marry you.” He’d done this before, and you were used to his small habit of self-deprecating talk, but after a year of marriage and three years of dating before that, you’d managed to work him down to the occasional comment.

“Don’t try to argue about this, I’m definitely the one benefitting the most from the situation right now,” he joked with you, and you could see the genuine adoration shining from behind his eyes. It was a little spark that not many got to see, a glimpse of true happiness in someone usually so reserved.

“Spencer, you’ve given me foot rubs everyday this week, you’ve read more pregnancy and parenting books than every OBGYN and midwife in the area combined, and you’ve somehow attended more of my clinical check-ups than me, and I’m the one whose pregnant.”

“And you’re growing our child inside of you, which is itself more impressive than anything I could ever do with a book and some modern acts of chivalry.”

“Yeah, tell your boss that. I think the only thing keeping Emily from pulling her hair out over your constant absences is that she thinks she’s competing for the title of godmother. She thinks Penelope and JJ are trying to corrupt me with parenting advice and all those baby clothes Pen keeps bringing over.”

“She’s going to be crushed when she remembers we’re not religious, right?”

“Devastated,” the two of you shared a laugh on the couch, and it quickly devolved into a giggle fit after Spencer leaned over and tickled your side. You jolted away from his touch, but he was on you again, attacking your sides with small caresses, and you were gasping for breath between laughs.

“Spence stop- ahh!” Your squeals stopped as you cried out in shock. It was small but you felt something tap against your stomach. Spencer stopped immediately upon seeing your expression change, and a serious look settled on him as he assessed you for any damage.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you in pain anywhere, is the baby okay?” He shot out the questions rapidly, one after the other, barely leaving space to catch his own breath from the laughter of earlier.

It happened again and you put a hand to your stomach, finally realising what’s going on.

“I think I just felt her kick. Spencer, I think I just felt the baby kick.” You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face, as much as you couldn’t help the tear that dropped from your eye as your hand rested against your belly again, scared to move for fear that the baby wouldn’t communicate with you again.

“What? Now? Can I- Can I try and feel it, too?” His hands hesitated at first but when you enthusiastically nodded and used your other hand to put him close to yours, you could feel his eagerness to feel the small kicks of your daughter as well.

Almost as if she was waiting for him, as soon as his hand was in the right position, your little girl kicked again, almost as if screaming “I’m here mommy and daddy,” for the two of you to hear.

“I think she’s trying to tell us not to have fun without her,” Reid whispered in your ear, kissing your tear streaked cheek, and using his free hand to rub them away from the other side of your face.

“I am so thankful everyday for this gift you have given me. And for the record, the gift isn’t the baby. The gift is the overwhelming happiness you bring to my life, and the beauty you make me see in this world. The fact that you’re going to be the mother of my child gives me the confidence to get up and go to work every morning because I know that there is joy and there is kindness and there are beautiful people in this world, and you are one, and she will be, too.”

His attempts to dry your tears are now completely vanquished as you let your emotions run wild, but you almost laugh when you realise that his eyes are just as glassy as yours, and you both sit there, overwhelmed by the pure, unadulterated joy that a small kick from a child who has yet to be given a name has bought you.