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endearng · 6 hours ago

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Out of reach

Pairing: earlyseasons!Spencer Reid x hotchner!fem!reader Summary: You pull away from Spencer because of your jealousy. You go back to him after a few drinks in. WC: 9k A/N: fluff! pining! idiots/friends to lovers! alcohol consumption; spencer is a bit mean; reader doesn't communicate; hotch is a little older to have a daughter around spencer's age (do not come at me this is fiction). If I missed anything, please let me know! I had so much fun writing this one and it's now one of my favorites <3 masterlist

The jet was quiet as you and the BAU team made your way back from Los Angeles after successfully finding Lila Archer's stalker. The case had been a bit draining, after all, you've only been working with the FBI for a couple of months, and seeing dead bodies and all those other displays of violence was something you were still trying to get used to. Despite your sensitive nature, being Aaron Hotchner's daughter meant that you had mastered the art of a poker face through the years, not that it meant that your inner feelings were any less important. This is how you found yourself sitting all alone in a corner of the jet as everyone minded their own business. On any other day, you'd be sitting next to Dr. Spencer Reid, talking about whatever it was that could get your mind off the case you had just wrapped up. Spencer and you were friends, some would even say the best of friends, but you didn't mind about naming things — what mattered the most is that you got to be yourself around him and you didn't bother hiding behind the Hotchner glare, as he once put it.

Despite being unknown territory for you, after all, feelings and all that were protected by a deeply analytic and practical mind, you knew what you were feeling. Well, you were analyzing your reactions to check what had actually happened — and the thing is, you couldn't admit, not even to yourself, what that sinking feeling in your chest when you watched Spencer saying goodbye to Lila was. Amid your analysis, Spencer quietly approached you, silently motioning to the seat next to you. You nodded, shutting every single thought of him. Or at least, trying.

"Hi."

Hotch glare. "Hi, Reid."

Spencer felt nervous. He had never been on the receiving end of your… wrath before, so it was unknown territory and he didn't know how to act. His racing heart and clammy palms weren't helping him, either. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Listen, um, you... can... can we talk?" The stammering. Way to go, Spencer.

Glancing at him, ignoring the skip in your heartbeat, you nodded. "Yeah. Is everything alright?" A firm, secure tone. You mentally patted yourself on the back.

"You're a little distant... and—and I got a bit worried. Did... Did something happen?" He wanted to kick himself. What kind of person can't hold a serious conversation without stuttering like an idiot? Get a grip, Reid.

"No, Reid. Everything is alright. I'm just... thinking." You said.

Bullshit. You both knew that. Spencer, on the other hand, didn't know why it was bullshit. But he knew it was.

"Are you sure?" He asked, leaning towards you, almost invading your personal space and he shut his eyes before delivering the next question, "Is... I haven't done anything to upset you? Right?"

You took a second to answer him, willing your voice to stay still and the knot in your throat to go away. "No. It's nothing you've done. It's just... it's on me." You gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes — that's when he knew something was definitely wrong.

He nodded, but he was still worried by your sudden change of behavior, especially towards him. It was like he was anyone else, again. And, God, he didn't want that. "What is it, then? You can talk to me, you know. We're best friends."

Best friends.

The words felt bitter on his tongue. The sound of them broke your heart all over again.

Best friends. "Right. Yeah. I know." You said, quietly, and it felt a little lifeless to him. He clenched his hand, fighting the urge to touch you, to ask you what was truly bothering you. "Thanks for offering."

Spencer felt conflicted. If he didn't say anything and didn't push you to speak, you would probably bury whatever it was that you were feeling and it would lead him into being even more worried about you. If he did, you would probably snap at him because of his undesired, bothersome insistence. "It's nothing." He said, defeatedly. "Can you just... Do you promise it's not me?"

Your heart ached and you smiled at him, a tiny, faint, barely there smile. He was so adorable, sometimes. "I'm just upset over something else. Don’t worry. You didn't do anything wrong." You finished, trying to convince yourself that he had not, indeed, done something wrong.

And he didn't. He didn't. You and Spencer, despite your proximity and sometimes incredibly ambiguous relationship, hadn't said anything about deeper feelings towards one another. You let yourself admire him, lovingly, from afar, and were happy with the snippets of attention you had from him when you two had some free time. You two were regulars in the coffee shop near his apartment and, by now, the local librarian, Mrs. Jones, could probably fake your signature from how often you two went there to borrow books. She would watch you two behind the bookshelves, whispering excitedly and curiously to each other about whatever suggestions you were getting from each other. As you missed Spencer's longing glances to read a summary, Mrs. Jones smiled to herself, both at how adorable you two were and how oblivious you were. In museums, you would sit down after some time walking around to his explanations of art and historical movements that impacted the expression of a certain age — you pretended to not know a few things, just so he could speak his heart away and not be interrupted by your own contributions.

You kept silent to make him happy.

Which was exactly what was happening now.

Spencer knew, for sure, that you were hiding something from him. But he also knew that he had no right to force it out. He fidgeted awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands, his heart still clenching. “But, but... you’d come to me if you needed help, right?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You knew you were wrong, omitting things from him. Just as the guilt was starting to weigh in your heart, Derek passed by you two with a magazine in his hands, throwing it at Spencer, exclaiming, "My man!"

You looked down, already knowing what it was. Spencer was a mess beside you: blushing, stuttering, avoiding your and Derek's gaze and throwing the magazine as far as he could, like it had burned him. Your reaction was a subtle twitch of your lips, not in amusement, but in need to disguise the pang in your heart. You both spent the rest of the flight sitting in silence, simply being in each other's orbit. You, guiltily. Spencer, worriedly.

Your reaction — or lack of — was staggering to Spencer. He thought you two were getting somewhere, despite your closed off nature and demeanor, he thought he was finally cracking you up. Everyday was torture, seeing you walk through the bullpen's glass doors with your professional clothes and your composed figure. It was torture to see you walk around so prettily and serious, holding his bare heart in your hands, and not even realizing it. By now, he lived and thrived on those rare opportunities you had to spend time together as he became more and more covered in you.

As the jet landed and Spencer walked out to talk to Derek, you pettily made sure to step on Lila Archer's face when leaving the jet in sheer frustration.

Back to the bullpen, you had gone to the restroom to splash some water on your face in order to calm your nerves and to tell yourself that it was only a matter of time until things got back to normal — until you got back to normal. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you wondered if Spencer could tell that there was something wrong with you, if you had let any of your feelings slip during your short conversation. The version of you that stared back was as impassible as you ever were. As you made your way to your desk in the dimly lit sea of desks, you caught Spencer and Derek talking, both having their backs to you.

Sighing, you just left the headquarters, not wanting to know what they were discussing, or rather, knowing what they were discussing, but unwilling to stay, even if it would quench your curiosity as to what Spencer had been thinking.

Maybe you didn't want to know the answer.

—

The days went by, cases coming left and right, flights making you almost dizzy — not that you would admit, but you were terrified of heights. Between those and your training, you barely had time to think about Spencer and the entire Lila occasion. You spent your days busy with work, studies and physical training in order to keep your mind away from that, but as you lay awake at night, the memories would come back to haunt you relentlessly to the point you had recurring dreams of them. Together, as you watched from the sidelines. You kept to yourself, slipping further and further away from Spencer.

Reid, on the other hand, felt your absence more than anyone. You took a rain check on all the invitations he made, even when he invited you to movie night, when he would definitely choose a Russian movie because you mentioned once how you liked how the language sounds. There wasn't any more donuts on his desk as he arrived in the morning (he would always joke that you and your father secretly lived in the headquarters and that someday he would see Haley bringing your groceries to the secret house), and there was no one for him to throw his paper airplanes, small flashcards with the Russian phonological alphabet, at. The change in your behavior was absurdly clear to everyone: you barely called or texted him anymore, you didn't look his way when someone told a joke to check if he thought it was funny... He was sulking, to say the least. Upon questioning you, you blamed your lack of free time and as he was going to question you further, you said in a teasing tone that not everyone was like him and that the FBI was actually making you go through all the training phases.

Finally, during the end of a particularly frustrating workday, he finally snapped, grabbing your arm before you could enter the elevator. It was only you and him in the otherwise empty hallway. "Ok. What's been going on? And don't," he said, closing his eyes, "don't dance around the subject. Don't say it's the Academy. Don't say you have to work. Don't. Please, be honest with me."

The exasperation in his eyes and in his tone almost broke the wall that hid your true feelings, but as you glanced at him, you figured you couldn't do it. Be honest? What for? To hear that you're nothing more than his best friend? Losing said friend was not an option, not to you, at least. But you also knew that you weren't treating him right, that keeping him out was not at all fair to him, that leaving him in the dark was as hurtful as it would be to lose him.

Breathing deeply, you answered with the same stoic expression you wore every single damn day. "I told you, Reid. People go through different, busier times in their lives." The lie tasted like acid.

Spencer clenched his teeth, frustration and confusion beginning to override some of his social anxieties. “That! That!” He asked through clenched teeth, his gaze intense.

"That what?" You asked, puzzled.

"You... you stopped calling me 'Spence'—not that you did it often, you did it more when we were all alone, and it... it sucks! It sucks because I don't know what happened or what I did that was so wrong to make you stop liking me!"

Come on, just say something! Get angry, get sad, get something!, his mind screamed.

"I never stopped liking you," you said, looking away from him. His words hit a particular spot that you were totally willing to discover later, but the mere thought that he knew that you liked him more than as a friend made you shiver.

"That's not the point! Or—or rather, it is! Because if you didn't stop liking me, why would you act like you did?" He asked, his tone rising a bit.

"Calm down."

"Calm down? I will not calm down!" He almost yelled. His eyes widened slightly, disbelief clear in his features and tone, not to mention the frustration. "Just. Please.” He said, closing his eyes, willing himself to tone it down, not that it worked... “Tell me what you're thinking, what happened to you! For once! Any normal person would react and stop acting like an emotionless robot!"

You gaped like a fish out of water, taking a small step back, his words digging a hole in your heart. Upon hearing his own words and noticing you distancing yourself from him, all the anger vanished from his body. The widened eyes were a sign of realization of what he had said to you. During the early months of friendship, you had confided in him that you struggled with portraying emotion like others normally did. Maybe it had something to do with growing up with a father who did it so perfectly when he was out of the house. When he wasn't actively playing the ‘dad’ part, Aaron Hotchner would wear an unreadable mask like it was his armor, his defense from the outer world, but as soon as he got home, he was back to his main role. You would watch him with his coworkers and mimic him perfectly to make him laugh. At some point, making fun of and imitating his demeanor had become some serious form of self-defense for you. Spencer, then, joked that you were making your way to the perfect job, but then he had gotten serious and told you that it wasn't a flaw. That it wasn't a problem that you kept deeply to yourself sometimes — that it was okay to be yourself around him. You had felt safe by his side since then.

But now, what did those words mean? Were they lies?

He breathed out your name, softly, "I... I... I'm sorry."

"Just drop it," you replied, pushing the elevator button. Your dismissive tone and your action of leaving made Spencer feel utterly desolate, like he had done the wrongest thing in the world and perhaps he had, but he just wanted you to let him in. For once, he wanted to have the answers from your lips, not spend any more time analyzing your every single action and words...

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"You know, Spencer…" he looked up at you when he heard his name, as you held out an arm to hold the elevator doors open. As if thinking better than to say anything, you sighed and turned to enter the elevator, shaking your head with the most disappointed look he had ever seen on your face.

Spencer tried looking at you one last time before the elevator doors closed, and despite your face being as unreadable as it often was, he saw a flicker of sadness that stung his heart more than he liked to admit. If he hadn't done anything wrong before, now he had utterly fucked everything up.

—

The drive home, for Spencer, was a torture. He knew that he had to pay attention to the road ahead of him, to the other vehicles and drivers, but his mind kept drifting to the last glimpse of you back in the headquarters. Your empty eyes appeared behind his eyelids every time he pressed his eyes closed. He willed himself not to cry, to not blur his vision, taking his frustration out on the steering wheel, where his grip was so tight that his knuckles turned white. As he parked his car and looked up to one of his windows, he remembered you. Because of course he would remember you.

The sight was almost comical, to be honest. You, clad in one of the suits that fitted you so well, sitting on his windowsill, a cup of green tea in hands as you stared out the window, trying to analyze every single drop of rain before it reached somewhere outside your vision range. The funny thing was that you had no shoes on, instead, Spencer lent you a mismatched pair, not being one used to having people over, he didn't have a pair of spare slippers. Then, you sat there with a dinosaur-pattern sock on one foot and a striped-pattern sock on the other.

Spencer, sitting on his sofa and holding his own cup (he had let you choose your mug and stayed quiet when you pointed quietly at his favorite), smiled to himself. It was weirdly calming seeing you out of your character, doing something so... human.

"I can feel you staring, you know," you said. And your tone was almost... teasing?

"Right. Sorry." He said, looking down at his steaming tea.

"I'm not scolding you," you said, turning to look at his direction with a grin.

"Right, no—heh..." he replied, bashfully, cheeks reddening at the sight of your smile.

If only you knew... how many hours he would lay awake at night, as thoughts swirled in his head, how everything seemed to shut down at the thought of you. How he would fall asleep to the wish of being on the receiving end of one of your rare smiles, how he appreciated that you were always the first one he talked to upon his arrival at the headquarters. How... how he would do anything for you to look at him under a different light.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you giggled. Everything stopped.

Spencer.exe has stopped working.

"Heheh—I guess... It's not everyday you get to see a Hotchner so out of its—heheh—habitat." You quipped, looking at him with a smile on your face.

Suddenly, Spencer lost his voice. The connection between his brain and his tongue, which felt heavy, disappeared. Completely speechless, eyes slightly wide at the sound of your laughter. It made you laugh a bit more, but when his stare and open mouth got too much to handle, you looked down at your feet, wiggling your toes to distract yourself from the intensity of his gaze full of awe. Then, Spencer got back to his senses, smiling at you as you missed it to look away in embarrassment.

Spencer blinked away the tears and left his car, entering his apartment. As he took off his shoes, he let the tears fall at the sight of your windowsill.

—

Meanwhile, you were getting wasted at some bar. Not just any bar, but the one you usually went with Spencer when you were feeling daring and wanted a change from the places where you both used to go to. You were a bit of a lightweight, so a couple of drinks were enough for you to start playing trivia with Spencer and let your gaze linger for longer, basking in the sight of him so carefree, having fun with you.

Upon your arrival, the bartender that usually took care of your orders, MJ, greeted you with a smile. When she saw no one was joining you, she frowned. "Good evening, Hotch. Where's loverboy?"

You sent her a look, but since you were letting your guard down, after all, there were no acquaintances or friends around, you didn't know if the look came out as a glare or if you looked like a kicked puppy. She snorted. "Gee... That bad, huh?" She asked, and you didn't answer again, though you muttered a soft thanks, MJ when she gave you your go-to drink.

And it turned into two drinks. Three. Four...

(MJ was now giving you alcohol-free drinks, too worried for your well-being. You and Spencer started to grow on her as you two kept coming back.)

You rested your chin on your left hand while you traced patterns with your right index finger on the counter. MJ was eyeing you suspiciously, drying a few glasses with a washcloth. "He kissed another girl." You admitted, quietly.

"No way." She gasped.

"Way."

"But... I thought you two were a thing." MJ was baffled, placing down the objects she was holding in sheer shock. "I always thought you two were like... together for years."

"We were a thing.... I think, at least... I don't know, MJ." You sighed, tucking a stray of hair behind your ear. Looking up at her, hazy eyes taking in her focused expression, you sniffled, "we were on this case and then he met a girl and then the next moment the two of them were making out in a pool. In a freaking pool."

She tsked, anger flashing in her eyes, "I swear, those nerdy guys are the worst."

"Yeah..." You muttered, fiddling with your straw. "Can I have another one?"

She pursed her lips, but she relented. Then, as she handed you the liquid, a guy sat next to you. Did he look like Spencer or were you already hallucinating?

"Hi. I'm Dave. Can I buy you a drink...?" He asked with a small smile, wanting to know your name.

No, not Spencer. It’s cool.

"Hi, I..."

MJ cut you off. "Hey, Dave, I think she had too much to drink already."

They exchanged looks and it took you a minute to feel offended by her interruption and knowing you were perfectly capable of speaking for yourself, but realizing you would probably have to entertain a stranger, you felt grateful for it.

Dave left with a sour smile. "Thanks." You muttered, again, looking at MJ.

"Do you need me to get you a cab, honey?"

"That would be great." You said, placing money bills to pay for your drinks and the tip.

MJ looked around to spot someone to keep an eye on the bar as she led you out of the place, hand never leaving your shoulder. As she called a cab, she made you stand on only one leg to make sure you weren't gonna need her to go with you. You scoffed, but obeyed her all the same, with a low snicker. As you two waited for the cab driver, a woman who MJ trusted with her life (and her favorite regulars), you tried to make conversation to make up for embarrassing yourself by talking about Spencer with someone. How pathetic.

"So, what does MJ stand for?"

She chuckled, shaking her head at you and at your dazed eyes. "That's classified information."

"I'm familiar with that."

The cab driver, Paula, arrived. She greeted the both of you with a smile and a cheerful good evening! As you entered the vehicle, you rolled the windows down and pressed the subject further, "Seriously, is it Mary Jane or were your parents more creative?"

She rolled your eyes at you, shaking her head. "It's Mary Jane. MJ because who would take me seriously?"

You smiled. "I like the shoes!"

Paula started driving slowly, just to let other drivers drop their own passengers, as you were lost in your own little world, serious expression taking over your face again, not wavering, as you delved deeper into the whirlwind of thoughts plaguing your head. Paula, looking at you through the rear-view mirror, asked, "Is everything okay, honey?"

You buckled your seatbelt. "Yes, yes. Just... keep driving slowly, please."

"Where to?"

Only then you realized you never gave her an address. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you gave her Spencer's, telling her you were going home.

—

An unknown number had sent Spencer a couple of messages.

[8:32 p.m.] Lovergirl is here, drinking all by herself.

[8:32 p.m.] Water, but still. I'm not having her passed out without you here.

[8:40 p.m.] Sent her home, people were starting to approach.

Throughout the time he had spent with you at the bar, the two of you exchanged numbers with MJ in case she needed your help — you know, being FBI agents and whatnot. But Spencer didn't need to see her name to know it was her and she was talking about you; 'lovergirl' and 'passed out without you here' gave him clue enough. His stomach tied in knots when he read that people were starting to approach her, the nagging feeling that the image conjured in his mind was making him feel almost sick, then, it hit him like a truck: Lila Archer.

Their… case? was as fleeting as a careless glance. To be honest, Spencer accepted her advances to spite you for having such power over him, even if unknowingly so. The young agent felt like you were so out of his league, so out of reach — you were all that pile of confidence and stoicism and pure lusciousness and everything to him. And he was a young guy who truly had barely been kissed so far. How could he approach you, charm his way into your heart, especially when you barely bared it? With Lila, it was... nice. Easy, even. It was nice being wanted, to be able to read her intentions and desires like a children's book. With you, it was a tantalizing challenge, one he was, for the first time, struggling with. It was not like having a high-school crush, not like pining over the untouchable girls that would catch his interest as he grew older. No. This was something new. You had hit him deeper than ever or anyone before.

Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, he gave room to the anxious thoughts regarding your father as well. Would it affect his relationship with his superior? Would it affect your relationship with your father? Spencer felt dizzy just by the mere thought of ruining something uniquely yours. No, he couldn't impose himself on your life like that. It was mean, it was wrong, it was immoral.

To want, to desire, is to be selfish.

It was a bold assumption. To think you were jealous of him. Nevertheless, the signs were all there, had been all along. He was just dumb and scared enough of making assumptions.

A barely there, faint sound of a knock on his door made Spencer fly out of his bed, dropping his phone on the bedroom floor, but he didn't pick it up. He had a suspicion as to who could be knocking on his door, but he was too scared of assuming anything. Again. Opening the door, he saw you, breathing a bit heavily. The stairs, he supposed. You always complained about them. Once you exchanged looks, Spencer’s surprised one and your earnest one, you asked, "Do you really think I'm a robot?"

Shit. He could feel his heart breaking in a million little pieces. The insecure edge of your voice and words made him squeeze his eyes shut; in his mind, he was kicking himself simultaneously as he sank down to his knees, on your feet, begging you to forgive and forget his dumb, stupid, frustrated, unrealistic words.

"No," he breathed out, wincing, almost as if he was in physical pain. "I—I didn't mean to talk about you like that. I was..."

"Frustrated?"

He nodded, silently, eyes never leaving your face. Your speech, albeit way out of the ordinary that he was used to, was flawless. If not by the dilated pupils and the faint smell of alcohol, not to mention MJ's texts, he would dare to say you were perfectly sober. "I was, too." You admitted, looking down.

Spencer made way for you to enter his apartment. He watched as you kicked your shoes off. The sight, that had become as common as the act of breathing, made his way flutter. You intended on staying. Or so he hoped. You walked further into the place, noticing everything as it ever was, as if you hadn't been to his apartment for some time now. "You must be thinking why I'm here," you said, moving to sit on the couch and mentioning him to sit on the small coffee table in front of you, as if you owned the place, and not him.

Perhaps it was true.

He closed the door once you were inside, hesitating for a moment before joining you. He kept noticing things about you; the way you were walking, the way you could barely look him in the eye, the way you looked… “How much did you have to drink?” He asked, quietly.

"Not much. You know I don't usually drink because I can’t hold my drinks. And I'm sure MJ was giving me plain water at some point." You said, looking up at him. Well, at least, your speech flawlessly delivered, even though you were moving a bit more… disoriented than usual. She's totally a Hotchner.

"I... I am," he started, sitting in front of you carefully. "I... I'm sorry. It's just... You've never been so distant. I guess that I was mean to you to elicit some reaction."

Your analytical gaze softened upon his confession. You needed to give him some break, be a little easy on him. Well, easier than you were being as of lately. Nodding lightly, you added, "I'm here to apologize, too. I know... I know that I pushed you away and I made you think that... that that was your fault. It's not."

He froze. No, he wouldn't have you taking the blame for how his actions caused you to react. He looked up at you, reaching out a hand to touch your intertwined ones, "It is."

"Hear me out. Please." You said, lowly, not breaking eye contact. This was so hard, and you had never felt so afraid before. How ironic — to be afraid of being brave. "I... I guess that by now you know why I pulled away."

"I do," he admitted, nervously. "It took me some time, but I... I think I figured you out."

You looked down, embarrassed. It was overwhelming for him to see you portray such different and so many emotions all at once. To you, it was as agonizing as it was freeing. "Well, yes. So... It, um, it wasn't fair. We... we are not something. We are not a thing."

His heart, doing all the thinking and feeling, nearly stopped. As if it wasn't enough, you kept on going, "I'm sorry, I truly am, for how I behaved and how I made you feel by being absent. It's... it's not my place. You have your own life, Reid. I can't be upset with you for making decisions. You're a grown man..." you sighed, glancing at every direction but at him. "I know that I'm wrong, okay? And I know that I shouldn't have pushed you away, nor should I have kept my feelings from you."

Spencer drew in a long breath. He didn't know what to say, but you couldn't be more wrong. All at once, he wanted to scream, but he didn't know what ro say; he wanted to run, but he didn't want to leave you alone — not for a second. He didn't ever want you out of his sight; he didn't want to be the one you were apologizing to, hell, he wanted everything to be okay between them, but it was nice that she was talking to him, finally.

"I..."

Every time he thought he could say something, words failed him. Then, you took it as another opportunity to word-vomit everything you've been feeling. "I was... I was jealous. I didn't like to see that. I didn't like that it happened. But I also know that I have no right to be upset with you because you're single and she's attractive and you're both consenting and willing to do whatever you please, so..." You shrugged as if speaking those words aloud didn't stab new holes in your heart.

Spencer looked at you, totally speechless. It made you snicker. And speak further. Shut up, you idiot. Please, please, please! "And, ah—hahahah—I guess I am, indeed, a bit of a robot because it took me a bit of alcohol to pluck up the courage to come here and totally—hic—destroy our friendship by telling you I love you so much; that I'd hate to see you with anyone other than me. It happened and I hated it. It still stings."

Spencer's heart threatened to fail once again. Your giggles, your words, your confession... His mind completely short-circuited. She loved him. She loved him? She loved him?!?!???!!! That’s what she’d just said, apparently. Okay, calm down. And she’d been jealous. She didn’t like him kissing another woman, because she fucking loved him. Say something, you dumb idiot, his brain shrieked. Say something!

You parted your lips to say something else, but apparently decided against it. Another beat of silence of Spencer staring dumbly at you. "I'm going," you blurted out, standing up.

Spencer, at breakneck speed, stood up as well to stop you from walking away, placing his hands tentatively on your shoulders. Your bodies were now apart by mere inches. "No." His voice was so small and pained that you sat back down.

Despite your apparent willingness, your next words told him about your turmoil. "Why would I stay, Spencer? I've been pouring my heart out to you and you haven't said a thing."

Looking at you, so bare and so vulnerable, Spencer suddenly had flashbacks from when he had lashed out on you earlier and simultaneously fought the feelings that were bubbling inside of him upon your confession. Couldn't you see the sheer shock on his face? Couldn't you see that he was battling against every single bit of self restraint not to pull you into his embrace and make you believe him when he would tell you that you were the only woman for him?

Sure, he had dreamed of you saying those words to him countless times as time went by and you two got closer. Shit, he literally dreamed of it. Of you. Speaking sweet nothings to him... He broke out of his daze, realizing that he was deadly silent, "Don't go..."

"Then say something. I'm here. Not as Hotch's daughter, not as your coworker, not as a part of the team you work with. I'm here as the woman in whose heart you've grown over the last few months. I'm terrified of your answer and you keep depriving me of it." There was a hint of annoyance and hurry on your voice, and he could understand you, he truly could. He just didn't... he lost his voice when he looked at you.

Saying your name softly, he beginned, “I said stupid, untrue things, and I’m sorry. I’m a jerk, and I know that I’m a jerk and—" You quirked your eyebrow and he took a deep breath, trying to cut his rant. "Just... don't sit there and think that I have nothing to say."

"Have you said it?" You pressed it, quirking an eyebrow.

"No." He admitted, widening his eyes a bit as he realized his mistake.

At the same time, you shot, "Not saying something is also an answer for me—"

"—but not for the reasons you're thinking! Do you know how hard it is for me right now?" Spencer was starting to sound very desperate and pathetic, not to mention the fact that he wasn't answering your questions.

Deep breaths (from both ends).

"Look, Reid..." He glared at you upon hearing his last name. "I think I should go home. You and I clearly need some space—"

"What we need to do is talk."

You sighed. "Then why won't you give me an answer?"

Silence.

"You won't even remember this in the morning."

At that, you deemed yourself utterly defeated. This was useless. "I'm sorry I came over. I'm... I'll just go, okay? Please, don't be upset about tonight. I apologize in advance."

The sight of her, once more shying away from him and turning to escape from him, was making Spencer frustrated, with himself, to no end. His heart clenched at your apology, to which he shook his head vehemently. The thing is, he wanted to get ready to answer you, properly, just like he always had some trick up his sleeve or some funny or curious fact to blurt during the most random moments. Spencer was good at speaking, but only when the speech was already ingrained into his mind, something he had read or rehearsed before. Plus, he was sure your state of drunkenness would stop you from remembering that moment.

Spencer dashed to his door, barely stopping you. No, no, no, no, no... She can't leave. This might be my only chance. "You're not going anywhere."

"Excuse me?"

"Stay with me. I don't want you to go." He said, softly, slowly, looking straight into your eyes. It made you dizzy. Either that or the alcohol.

"No?"

"Y-you're drunk and I... I don't think it's safe for you to go by yourself and it's late and... and..." he trailed off, nervously, desperate to get you to stay.

"I'm not drunk."

"You're not fooling me. You might be as concise as ever but you're not sober. Stay."

"Promise... promise you won't be upset with me?"

His heart dropped, heavy with guilt. And with love for you. "I promise."

Spencer silently led you back to the couch, gingerly holding your hand. He felt dazzled, speechless, desperate, frustrated, all at once. But your touch was starting to ground him back to reality, where you were real, having confessed your feelings for him, and he was a mess, not even being able to say anything back. Without much thinking, he said, "You should stay over tonight."

"Okay... I'll take the couch."

"As if I'd let you sleep on the couch."

"It's okay."

"Stop... stop acting like I sent you away."

You kept silent. You felt like he did. Through his touch, he hoped to get you to understand that his feelings were a mess, but they existed, and they were real, and they were yours. "That'd be alright with me, you know. Taking your couch. I think I would sleep better on your floor than I would ever in my bed. To... to say that anything is better if you're somehow involved."

His stomach made a flip-flop. Brain short-circuited again. You yawned, as if you had just made an annoying comment on the weather.

"Are you tired?" He managed to mutter.

"I am."

"Come on. Let's get you to bed."

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'? I'm not letting you on the couch. Come on."

"I can't go to your bed with outside clothes." You booped his nose.

He chuckled lowly, confused a little by your words. "Are you seriously worried about clothes?"

"You don't like germs. That's why I removed my shoes."

Okay, he thought, if I manage to put her to sleep without having a heart attack, I definitely don't need a cardiologist's appointment because it would mean I'm that strong.

"Y-you... remembered?" Damn it, Reid. Stop stuttering.

You sighed, tiredly, and rested your head on his shoulder, looking down at his hand holding yours. "I remember everything about you."

"You do?"

"Yes. Fortunately or unfortunately."

Spencer was too stunned to speak. Too stunned, too dumb, too afraid. Damn it. Damn it. He couldn't stop cursing internally. He forced himself to pull you towards his bedroom and even though he still sensed some uncertainty, he kept going. Reaching for a pair of sweatpants and a big t-shirt, he gave those to you. "You can change into these," as he left the room to make you more comfortable.

"Wait!" You almost shrieked.

"What happened?" He prompted, worriedly, reaching a hand out to touch your arm.

"I don't want you to go."

He bit back a sigh. "I'll be just outside."

"Just... stay here?"

"I can't—" he interrupted himself, just turning around so his back was to you instead. At that, he looked up at his ceiling and prayed to any deity to let him survive that night.

He could hear the sounds of your movements. The zipper being undone, the soft ruffling of the fabric as you tugged your shirt up your head... He was imagining your exposed skin, every perfect inch, how would you look without all those clothes that suited you so nicely, how would it be to touch you, to run his fingertips all over your heated skin, how would it be to kiss every freckle on your body, to—"Done."

Turning around, the sight was adorable, which made him somewhat guilty of his early impure thoughts. "I feel like Alice when she shrunk into a tiny human."

He couldn't fight the smile at your words. He led you to his bed, where you laid on your back on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling. Spencer left you briefly to get you a glass of water and some painkillers to leave by the bedside table. You thanked him with a silent glance. As he turned to leave, once again, you said in a small voice, almost phrasing it like a question, too afraid of the answer. "Stay."

"I'll take the couch."

"You asked me to stay, thrice, I guess… And I did. I asked you once and you did. I still have a few requests left. I'm keeping tabs."

He relented, laying next to you and placing a pillow between you two. You breathed out a chuckle and he shook his head, clearly knowing where your mind had gone to. He placed his hand on top of the pillow, offering his comfort, and then you tentatively placed yours on top of his. He grinned to himself.

It was hard for him to wrap his head around what had happened that night. He knew his words — or lack of — could be read the wrong way and you possibly did, but he also hoped that his actions were speaking louder. Just as he was getting lost in thought again, he heard your voice once more.

"Spence?"

That damned nickname.

"Thanks for, um, being so respectful. Not that I don't think you'd be. But, um, as you've said, I'm drunk. And I told you I love you. And you're simply holding my hand." He gulped. He was keeping count, too, of how many times you said you loved him. Twice, so far, but he wanted so much more, endlessly. He wanted to lose track. "I guess... that makes me love you even more," you finished, crushing his heart between your palms, voice thick with sleep.

When he finally turned his head to look at you, your eyes were closed and you looked peaceful, drifting off to sleep. Then, when he was sure you were actually asleep, he stood up from his bed, grabbing a pillow and a spare blanket to lay on the floor.

"I'll gladly sleep on my floor if it means I get to have you around, too..."

—

Spencer didn't get any sleep.

He tossed and turned on the floor all night long, both because his carpet was not the most comfortable spot to sleep on, but also and mostly because there was no way in hell his mind stopped working. All through the night, Spencer fought the urge to shake you awake to ask if this was real, if you really loved him, if the words that slipped through your lips were in fact your feelings towards him. Despite his curiosity and eagerness, he let you sleep, figuring that he had already put you through too much already. As you slept, a movie played on his mind: your moments together, your confession of love, and overthinking the words we are not something. We are not a thing. He feared that you would wake up and realize how badly he had screwed up and decide not to want him anymore. Yes, he was that anxious.

You, on the other hand, even though confused by his lack of answer to your heart’s words, felt lighter than ever by speaking out your truth (the booze did help you a lot, though). Being as analytical as you were had its perks. One of them is that you never let yourself suffer too much for too long, too attached to reality to care much about the rest. So what if he rejected you? Life goes on — and that’s what you thought with every other loser that you caught yourself thinking too much of. Spencer, though… Who were you kidding? Spencer was Spencer. And that meant the world… It wasn’t so bad, if he actually rejected you… you’d only have to face him every day, until the rest of your lives, doomed to work together, cursed to think and rethink all over again small, fleeting moments such as an exchange of longing glances.

(You felt strangely calm due to your touch with reality. Maybe, just maybe, you were hoping for the best based on his care with and for you. But boy, were you ready to give him a piece of your mind.)

As your eyes fluttered open, you stretched your limbs on an unfamiliar bed with too much space. Upon your confusion, the memories came back with full force. You jolted, sitting down, searching for him — and, to be honest, not wanting to find him. The house was deadly silent, so you tried to trick yourself that you were sure he wasn't there. You dashed to the bathroom, taking a quick shower to get rid of the shame and the faint reek of alcohol. As you moved around his stuff, you couldn't help but think that you were so familiar with his things that it was almost like you belonged there. Sigh. It turns out that hiding emotions is easier than feeling them, especially their extremes.

As soon as you finished putting on your own clothes, you stopped dead in your tracks as you heard footsteps outside the bedroom. You froze, not knowing what to say. Or do.

Spencer entered the room, holding a tray meticulously organized with some food on it. “Morning. I, um, made you breakfast.” Because of course he would make you fucking breakfast.

“Morning,” you replied awkwardly and hoarsely. Maybe you cried a little bit, who knows… “Thanks, you didn't have to.”

“I did.”

You take your time to get a good look at him. He had bags under his eyes that appeared to be tired. The sight made your heart drop. “I'm sorry…”

“Don't be.”

“But I was wrong.”

“So was I.”

“But—”

“Last night you said some things. Do you, uh, do you remember what you told me?” You nodded, unable to speak. “Do you remember what you told me?” He repeated, trying to get a verbal answer from you.

“Yes, Spencer. I remember.”

“Can you listen to what I have to say now?”

You nodded, weakly.

“I didn't say anything because… because everything had gone in the most opposite direction they could've gone.” He said, approaching you calmly. “I was up the entire night, hoping to find the right words to tell you that would make you believe me after I… was stupid. I… First, I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I know you said that we're nothing, that we weren't something, that we didn't have anything… but… but you're everything to me.” At that, your eyes finally met his. The intensity of your gaze made him shudder, but he kept going. “All the time we've spent together was nothing compared to what I want to have with you… and… and… God! Do you have any idea of the torture I was put through with you? Constantly thinking of what we could be, what we should be, too scared of your reaction or that—that—that Hotch decided to chop off my neck because he found out that I was crushing on his only daughter!”

At the mention of your dad, you burst out laughing. Seriously? That was such a cliché! “Hey! I'm serious!”

“I'm sorry…” You bit your bottom lip, fighting the urge to laugh at him some more. He was adorable.

“As I was saying,” he continued, trying to sound annoyed, but a hint of a smile threatened to break on his lips, and he didn't pull away when you approached him nor he did when you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest, looking up at him, adoringly. He looked down, meeting your gaze, “I… I love you. I love you too. God, it just feels so good to say that!”

You giggled, again. God, he could never get used to that sound.

“And I’m sorry for being so mean to you when I was frustrated. I should have been more patient and my unthoughtful words hurt you.” You kept silent, remembering his words. “I—I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing if you’ll have me.” He added, intimidated by your gaze.

Silence. “Well, I accept your apologies. I was unfair to you as well. And you know where I stand when it comes to you. My feelings, I mean.”

“I do… But…”

“But?”

“I'd like to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you love me?”

“I don't know. Do I, really?” You joked.

He blushed furiously, ready to stutter himself out of that situation. “No, I mean… you—you said that—that you remembered what you said last night and… so… putting two and two…”

Another giggle interrupted him. You traced his jawline, leaning up to kiss his right cheek. “I really, really love you.” A kiss to his left cheek. He chuckled. “I love you.” A kiss on the tip of his nose, to which he snorted, totally lovestruck. “So much.” A lingering, tender kiss to his forehead. He closed his eyes, already anticipating the next spot you would press your soft lips to.

As you made your way to finally kiss his lips, you decided to tease him and let him wait for a bit longer. Spencer groaned in protest and you chuckled a bit, finally deciding that it was enough. Pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, making him sigh, you were thrilling on making him more and more eager. His grip on you tightened just slightly as he let out a shaky breath. You wanted to laugh, but instead, you poked fun at him. “Now you know what it's like to be teased.”

“I love you. Oh, Jesus… You're driving me insane. You're here… And you, you're you…”

You grinned, looking up at him, finally, finally pressing your lips to his. As you let out a small sigh, his breath hitched, both of you utterly drowning in relief and satisfaction. You pulled back a bit, grinning, going back to kissing him. Spencer's hands found your jawline, sliding back to tangle in your hair as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth. Parting your lips slightly, you granted him full access to kiss you properly, and he moaned at the taste of you, gripping your hair rougher than before. You groaned softly, and he proudly heard and swallowed all your small sounds.

The ring of a phone broke the urgent atmosphere that was building between you two. Spencer ignored it, letting it ring until you pulled away, gasping for air. As you did, the noise stopped and you met his lost eyes, totally dumbstruck, and you laughed because you probably looked the same way. He gave you a charming, lopsided grin, too stupid, too hypnotized to say anything.

The phone began ringing again. “Son of a…!” he cursed, picking up the phone. “Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid and unless this is an absolute emergency, I'm kinda busy—”

“Reid.” Aaron Hotchner's firm voice hit Spencer like a bucket of cold water. Widening his eyes, he gulped.

“Yes… sir?” You smiled at that. Of course you knew who he was talking to.

“We have a new case.” Hotch announced.

“Oh… okay… I, um, I—I'll be there in 20.”

Silence.

“Is everything okay, Reid?” Hotchner could read anyone, Spencer was now sure of that. Even through the goddamned phone.

“Wh—yeah, yeah… Everything's… totally f—fine.” He cursed under his breath as you gripped his vest, trying not to laugh.

“Do you know where she is?” Hotch inquired after another moment of quietness.

“Who?” He squeaked. You chuckled silently.

“My daughter.” Of course it was his daughter.

Playing dumb is not a good look on you, you mouthed.

“N—no… I haven't… heard from her.”

“Sure.” Hotch said, skeptically. Spencer could feel the sweat on his forehead. After a moment, your father finished the call with an unreadable “We need to talk.”

Once the phone call ended, you burst out laughing at Spencer's reaction. “Not funny.” He protested, a frown on his face and a soft smile betraying his faux frustration.

“Come on, it is funny.”

He glared at you. “What do you think he wants to talk about?”

“I don't know. Men talk. I wouldn't want to get involved.” You said, grinning, pulling him by his vest.

He squeezed his eyes shut, relishing in the feeling of having you so close. “Do you think he knows?”

“Of course he knows.”

“How are you so collected?”

“Because I'm not the one he's going to scare to death, apparently.”

“He said ‘we’ need to talk. Emphasizing ‘we’. If he knows you’re here, then it probably—” you cut him off with a kiss.

“Well, then… Are you ready to face your biggest fear? The frightening Aaron Hotchner?”

Glancing at you adoringly, he chuckled. “I’d face him and whoever, whatever, a thousand times, if it meant that I could get you in the end.”

—

A couple days after the case, you and Spencer meet again, in your apartment. Sitting down on the couch, you ask him, amusedly, “Do you think he noticed?”

“Totally. I could barely look him in the eye for the first moments,” He said with a fond smile, hiding from you the fact that he had awkwardly and bravely spoken to your dad about your relationship. You laughed, placing your legs on the top of his legs. “I guess we should thank Lila, after all.” He joked, and you laughed out loud.

Leaning him closer to him, grabbing his chin and looking deep into his eyes, you muttered, “Don’t ever say her name again, Spence.”

Your wish was always his command. It would always be.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x hotchner!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid self insert

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faghubby · 12 hours ago

Text

Little cocksucker

I am not sure how it grew but it started when I moved to Pennsylvania. My parents moved us out to a small town 30 minutes from even a gas station. I was 17 and hoped to be away at school in a next year. I had grown up in New York and the culture shock was insane. It had been months and I had no friends. Then I met Jack

Jack and I couldn't be different he had lived in this small town his whole life. His family owned a farm. And he looked like he worked his whole life on a farm. 6 ft tall and huge I swear he could of flipped a car if he wanted to. While I was 5' 3" damn most of the girls where bigger then me even my little sister. So when Jack invited me to go horseback riding I told him I didn't know how.

"Don't worry I will teach you" he assured me. He drove me in his pickup truck. I didn't even know how to drive and he had been driving since he was 14. Jack walked me thru how to ride. Giving me an older horse to ride.

"He is not going to go hard" he told me. Helping on to the horse. He watched as I rode around the field before he joined me. He then led me thru the fields into the woods. Before we came upon an old house in the woods. He stopped and helped me down. Grabbing my ass as he did. I was shocked but thought it just an accident.

"There aren't many girls our age around" he commented as he showed me around the old abandoned house.

"So I noticed" I told him.

"Have you ever been in a circle jerk?" He asked plainly.

"What, no" I told him.

"There are some of us who help each other" He told me pressing me against a wall. His hand cupping my crotch.

"Go ahead" he told me. Leaning in closer.

"I'm not" I told him

"Non of us are. Animals often do things when there is a shortage of females" he told me. I reached down and felt his hard cock thru his jeans. Holy shit was that all him? He unzipped his pants he wore no underwear his cock sprug free. I stroked him. He just held his hand against my crotch. His hand was able to hold not only my hard dick but my balls as well, while I needed two hands to hold him.

"You can be the female today" he told me as I stroked his cock. It was odd but excited me at the same time.

"There are a few of us, but no one speaks of it" he told me. I shook my head.

"I understand"

"Would you like to lick it?" He asked. I shook my head no but knelt and kissed his cock.

"No one says anything?" I asked.

"Top secret" he smiled as I took the head in my mouth. He kissed and licked but made him cum on the floor. He helped me back up his rough hands rubbed my nipples.

"We are going to have lots of fun together" he told me. He fixed his pants and helped back on the horse. This time not hiding his grab on my ass. I was worried and ashamed as we rode back to the barn. I couldn't even look Jack in the face. But caught myself thinking about his muscles.

The next day in gym class everyone seemed to be behaving different towards me. I wasn't the little funt outcast. Several guys "helped me"

"Hold the ball like this. Or stand with your feet apart " they showed me standing very close I thought.

When we went to change, Bill came up behind me.

"Jack says you joined our little circle" He smiled as he pulled off his shorts and boxers. His cock swinging free. I quickly looked away as he laughed softly. Jack started driving me home everyday. It was a week before he pulled down a dirt road. He stopped and pulled out his cock.

"I can't stop thinking about what a great job you did" he told me. I blushed and took his cock in my mouth. He was more forceful this time. Pushing my head. Gaging me encouraging me to take more. He finished in my mouth but I spit it out.

"It's time you met the rest of the group" he told me.

"Are you going to?" I asked looking down at the bulge ini my jeans

"Not my turn to be the female" Jack smiled not giving me anymore explanation. I rinsed out my mouth. Wondering if they expected more from the "female" . Jack drove me home.

"I am glad you are making friends paul "my mother smiled. she was folding clothes. I blushed a bit as I saw her fold her panties.

I was 17 never even kissed a girl but had sucked Jack's cock twice. I started to obsess over who the other guys where, what they would expect, where they all big like Jack? Was I just really small? I searched the internet. And found myself watching bisexual porn. I came across one with a man wearing panties sucking cock. I would catch glimpses of the guys changing at gym. I found myself looking at their assessment. And not the few girls in class. Was I gay?

"Should I pick you up around 7" Jack said as he came up behind me in the hallway. His hand cupped my ass. I blushed

"Sure"i said a bit higher pitch then I had meant too. I obsessed over what to wear. My hair and how I smelled. Should they want me to Smell like a girl? I grabbed a bag. And thru in a spare tee. Incase Jack came on me again. Should I wear panties? I had never wanted to but now? I decided against it and Jack was right on time. He drove to an old factory on the edge of town the place was huge. He walked me thru.

"No reason to be nervous" he told me. He lit a joint and gave me some. I had only smoked weed once. I got high on just two hits. I heard music as we got close. I saw Bill and Roger they handed me a beer. As Jack led me into a room. Pete was there. Sitting on a chair naked.

"You know what to do" Jack told me swatting my ass. I went to him. Jack left, Pete pulled me onto his lap. His cock now rubbing against my bulge. He kissed me. Long and hard his tounge darting around my mouth. I loved it. And relaxed in his arms. My hand reached down and stroked his cock. He stole the kiss and I slid to the floor and sucked his cock. It was smaller then Jack but bigger then mine for sure. Pete also came quicker then Jack. I didn't try and move I let him cum in my mouth.

Pete calmly got up and dressed as I took a swig of beer to cleat the taste. As soon as Pete left Roger came in. He was the tallest of them. Roger wasted no time he grabbed me and pulled me to his crotch he held my hair as he tried to face fuck me. But I kept gagging. And he would stop. He pulled out and came all over my face. I took off my shirt and wipped it off. No sooner had I done that when Bill presented his cock to me. Bill let me do whatever I wanted. I tried to do things I had seen in pornos I licked his balls. And cupped his ass as I sucked his dick. Almost taking all of him. He asked me wear I wanted it, I just sucked him harder and he came in my mouth. I swallowed it all down. Proud of myself that I was able too.

Jack came in offered me more pot. I was really stoned now. He stripped me naked. And pushed me to the floor, I sucked his cock my jaw aching. But the pot made me not care. As I sucked his cock he rubbed my ass. Then his fingers spread my cheeks I didn't stop. As his finger probed my ass. I moaned as he did. I don't remember much after that.

I must of passed out. I woke the music still playing. I got dressed and went back out. Pete handed me a beer. And another hit off a joint. I watched as they just drank beer and wrestled each other. Jack Sat down and pulled me to his lap.

"You are definitely the girl of the group" he told me his hand cupping my ass.

"What does that mean" I asked softly.

"You will do what girls do for us" he told me. Then kissed me. I was shaking as he then led me his truck and drove me home. As he dropped me off I hesitated. How did I look before I went inside. I was still pretty stoned. My mom was still up looked at me and smiled.

"You have fun honey" she asked

"Yeah" I laughed. I went to bed and passed out. Jake showed up at my house the next morning at 10. I was still asleep. My mother sent him into my room to wake me up. I woke to him sitting on my bed. His hand down my boxers rubbing my ass.

"Wake up sleepy head. I got a surprise for you" he told me. I came to and freaked jumping up.

"Shh, Jake whispered" he pulled down my boxers and stroked me a few times. He stopped

"Better get a move on" he told me and left. I jumped in the shower. As I rushed back to my room. I heard My mom talking to Jake. I couldn't find any clean jeans and rushed to the laundry room. I grabbed my jeans but next to them was a pile of my mother's things. I stopped I flipped thru and grabbed a pair of her panties and rushed back to my room. I slid the panties on they where simple cotton white panties but they felt so sexy. I finished getting dressed and headed out with Jake. Mom handing me an egg sandwich. On the way out the door. As soon as we where out of the driveway Jake handed me a joint. I took a hit and handed it back.

"You enjoyed last night didn't you?" He asked. I blushed and took another hit. Then laid across the old bench seat in his truck my head on his lap. I felt his hand slid down the back of my pants. He pulled over quickly.

"What are you wearing?" He asked surprised. I sat up and undid my jeans showing him my mother panties.

"You can" I fell silent I wasn't sure. But I wanted him.

"The guys will eat this up, they will rape you all day long" he told me. I was scared and excited.

"Can't it just be you" I asked in a meek voice. Sliding close to him my hand rubbing his hard cock thru his jeans. He started to drive again.

"Roger just wants to get off. Bill just goes along with everyone but Pete he wants the whol domination experience" Jack was telling me I pulled his cock out and stroked him.

"What do you want" I said softly.

"I you can never tell" he said. "I like girlie boys" he said now he was blushing. I went down and started to suck his cock. He pulled into a secluded spot. He finished in my mouth. I licked him clean.

"I don't know if I am gay or what. But I know I am attracted to you" I told him. He showed me some of the stuff he liked to watch on his phone. It was alot of twink porn. He didn't want a girl he wanted a little gay sissy to fuck. It turned me on as well. He had me pull down my jeans and he rubbed my ass thru my mother's panties. I was rock hard and throbbing. He had sent the guys a text saying we weren't going to make it. I wanted him to touch my dick but he was careful not to. He pulled me close and kissed me. I was going to explode.

"I want to fuck your plump little ass" he told me. I nodded. But we had no lube. He stopped and drove me to his house. I tried to act all non crazy with lust for him as he led me into a barn. He grabbed a tube of something off the shelf and led me up to a loft. The barn smelled so bad. But he grabbed me and practically tore my pants and panties off. Bent me over and smeared the tube all over my ass. I moment later he shoved his cock in my ass. I yelled. He didn't stop. Fucking me. I tried to be quiet as he tore my ass in two. He didn't stop until he had filled my ass with his cum. He half collapsed on top of me. His cock growing soft inside me.

He let me up.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked concerned. I smiled and kissed him my erection gone. My ass sore. I pulled my clothes back on. As we climbed out of the loft, A woman stood waiting.

"Dad not going to like this" she said. I timidly hid behing Jack. She then turned to me.

"Hi I'm Mary this idiot big sister" she told me. Offering me her hand. Her hands where rough and big. "Take your friend home and get back here we got work to do" Mary told him.

"I can help" I crackled. Still holding on to jack.

"Take him home" Mary told Jack. He led me to his truck and drove me home. He stopped and kissed me before we turned down my road. He dropped me off at the end of the driveway and I went inside to take a shower. Cum, lube and even a little blood was soaked into my mother's panties. I felt my asshole it felt huge. Nobody was home so I took a long shower. I noticed my mother's razor in the shower and shaved my ass. But I kept going I shaved off all my pubic hair as well and jerked off thinking about Jake. I went into my parents room after. I searched thru my mother's drawers. I felt so naughty as I looked thru her things. I opened a drawer full of very sexy lingerie. I was amazed my mother owned such sexy things. But also wondered if Jack would love to see me wear them. I took a black pair of lacy panties and ran back to my room. I put them on under my clothes. They rode up giving me a wedgie whenever I moved. I became accustomed to them rubbing against my sore asshole.

Jake would pick me up everyday and drive me to school. I tried to act like we were just friends. But I so wanted to kiss him in the hall between classes like the girls did to thier boyfriends. The guys left me be. I wasn't sure what Jack had told them. But everyday on the way home we would stop and I would suck his cock. And swallow his load. When I got home I would jerk off. It had been only a week and I couldn't take it anymore. I found myself sneaking into my mother's things again. Trying on bras and stockings. I loved the feel of all the soft fabrics. I shaved my legs and instantly regretted it. Knowing someone would notice.

Saturday night Jake picked me up. I wore little red panties under my jeans. As we drove off.

"I want you so bad" I told him almost climbing in his lap. He pulled over and grabbed the tube of lube. They used it to insemination cows. Shoving there hands inside them. I pulled off my pants. Showing him the pretty panties and shaved legs. He kissed me and bent me over the hood of his truck. He fucked me so good. Coming inside me again.

"You are mine now" he told me. I got dressed but he grabbed my shirt and cut it with his knife. I put it on and my belly showed. Then he yanked up my panties so the waist band showed over my jeans, I felt exposed as he drove to the party. Once there I didn't want to go. He dragged me put of the truck. Terrified I held his arm and his shyly behind him. I got alot of laughed and strange looks. Pete even smacked my ass. But one look from Jack and he backed off. We walked up to the keg to get a drink. And ran right into my little sister Terry.

"Holy shit" she spit out the beer she was sipping. Jake introduced himself when night was suddenly unable to speak.

"Jake, Paulie's boyfriend" he told her. She just smiled and introduced her date. Some kid Jake already knew. Terry walked up to me and pulled the waist band of my panties.

"Are those mom's she giggled. As he date walked her away with his hand on her ass. I spent the whole party clinging to Jake afraid to be away from him. It was after midnight when we left. Jake fucked me again on some little dirt side road before he took me home. I heard My parents in their room when I came in bit just went to bed.

I woke late to yelling.

"I don't care you where way past your curfew" my mother told Terry. I stumbled into the kitchen to grab something to eat.

"Why isn't Paul grounded then" Terry yelled.

"Your brother is older then you" my father said quietly from the table.

"You came home late, drunk with some boy we don't know" my mother continued. I wanted to stay out of this and went to leave with my orange juice.

"Paul's boyfriend knows him" Terry spit out. I almost swallowed my tounge. As my mother and father both stooped and stared at me.

"Terry you are excused" my father said. Terry stormed off.

"Paul we support you in whatever you choose" my father said softly.

"Jake is a very nice boy" my mother smiled.

"Jake?" My father said surprised.

"Of course it's Jake isn't it?" My mother said running her hand thru my hair.

"Yes, I don't know maybe it's just" my words drifted away.

"He should come for dinner either way" my father announced. I went and showered. Terry was in my room waiting

"Sorry I didn't mean I was just mad" she said

"I know it's okay" I told her. She hugged me and headed back to her room. A moment later my mother knocked I was still in my robe. She closed the door.

"You been in my things?" She asked.

"Yes, I am sorry" I told her.

"You can't go into my things" she told me. "Get dressed we will go out and talk" she told me. I got dressed. My mom drove for a long time. As we talked. We talked about being safe, and predators. Seemed like a dating talk like my dad had given me years ago. Just a girls point of view. Then she asked.

"Do you want to be a girl?"

"I don't know" I muttered.

"I liked wearing your underwear and I love how Jake makes me feel" I confessed.

"You too have had sex?" She asked. I blushed unable to answer. Just as we pulled into a shopping center.

"Your father gave us a budget but you can get anything you fancy" my mother told me. She led me straight towards woman's intimates. I was suddenly surrounded by pastel colors, lace and satin. I grew very shy.and my mother let me shop with my eyes, she watched and if I saw something I liked she would find it in my size and put it in the cart.

"You don't need one but do you want one" she whispered on my ear looking at bras. I blushed and my mother went and picked some out.

"You have to try one on make sure it fits" she told me. I couldn't but she grabbed some jeans and stuffed the bra in between and asked the women for the changing room. I tried on the bra, it fit I had trouble hooking it but got it. Another pair of jeans flipped over the door.

"Try these as well" my mother said. I tried on the jeans they fit odd. I realized they set lower. My mother had given my girls jeans. The first pair was too loose. The second fit better. I got more comfortable and excited to try things on. We left with two huge bags of clothes.

"Terry never let's me help her go shopping." My mother smiled. On the ride home I opened up about Jake exposing me at the party. And how he kissed me. Leaving out the sex parts other then to confirm we had had sex.

"You should go to school tomorrow in your new clothes then. Everyone already knows" my mother assured me. She even helped me pick out the outfit. A pair of tight fitting jeans with flowers on the rear pockets. With a pink tee shirt that had spaghetti straps with a white blouse over it.

"You could even wear one of your bras under it all if you wanted to" my mother told me.

The next morning I sat at the breakfast table wearing exactly what my mother had suggested minus the bra. But I did have a cute pink thong on. As Jake picked me up. I sat up against him as he drove my hand on his thigh the whole way. I walked with my hand wrapped around his arm through the school. He walked me to my first class and kisses me.

"Meet you right here" he told me.

"Paula" I told him and skipped into class. I got teased a little mostly by girls the boys to afraid of Jake. But I didn't care. We dated all year even going to prom together. Mom had gotten me the pretties gown. It was way to girlie but I loved it. I became a girl for the most part. Nails always done, my hair grew out some. Terry started dating a guy named Tom. And we would actually double date. So mom didn't worry. I couldn't get enough of Jack. His father disapproved but did nothing to stop us. We are about to graduate and Jake has still never made me cum. While i make him cum everyday. He will be going off to school it's only an hour away. I can't imagine a day without his cock.

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rweoutofthewoods · 1 day ago

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Hi Mere I don't want to imply anything but I'm worried that your new relationship stopped helping you be creative and put out updates. Is your fiance not letting you write? I'm concerned about you.

Look, i appreciate your concern and I’m sure you have good intentions but let me set you straight.

I met my fiancé through writing. we used to write together every single night. They’ve been nothing but my biggest fan, my biggest supporter, the person I can turn to for honest and kind feedback. When I was writing Youngblood and I wrote a chapter I absolutely HATED it was them who encouraged me to rework it into something I was proud of and who didn’t let me give up and just hate myself for it.

And when I said I wanted to stop writing for a while let me tell you there was a big silence and they gave me a look of horror and asked if I was okay because YEAH, it’s very unlike me.

But first I want to say, that just because you guys have known about my relationship for a little while doesn’t mean that’s as long as it’s existed. I was happily in this relationship when I was pumping out 3 chaps a week, and I’m happily in it now that I’m posting 0.

The honest truth is I’m burnt the fuck out. I don’t want to write because I have zero interest in it right now. It doesn’t make me happy, I’m not motivated or burning to do it like I used to be. I wrote nonstop through my last two years of college, through graduating, through working a terrible food service job post grad, living in constant dread of what came next. I’m just burnt out. I’ve been pumping out jegulus nonstop since 2022, ofc I was going to lose steam and move away from it eventually.

Im just busy and tired! I’m moving in a few months, I have a full time job now, I go to work at 8am and come home at 5 or 6 and I don’t want to write. I want to spend time with my family or my friends or my fiancé. In December I worked for 17 days straight without a day off, I needed a break! And when I want comfort and happiness I don’t have to turn to writing to find it.

I’m mentally at the best I have been in a very long time, and I don’t need to write like someone has a gun to my head to cope anymore. I had a very unhealthy and obsessive relationship with writing. And I always joked when people asked how I wrote so much that it was mental illness. But it wasn’t really a joke, I was unwell and coping with fanfic. So while I’m sure some of you may be sad to see my writing slow, I hope you’re happy for me because it’s a good thing!! I want to heal my relationship with writing and I want it to be something I simply do for fun, not something to fill some hole inside of me.

So while I’m sure you mean well, I just want to remind you guys that you see a very small piece of my life and my relationship. So I’d appreciate not making assumptions 🩷

#mere answering things ;)

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beepiesheepie · 1 day ago

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OOoo I don't do these often! :D thanks for the tag ruri!

Last Song: Blochead- The Music Scene

Favorite Color: Pastel Pink! But ONLY if it's paired with either black or with pastel blue and white- guess why for the latter lel

Last Book: Like OP I must turn to fanfiction ^^;; I didn't know Ao3 collected a history of works you read! What It Takes by scarletfyre (mind the tags on it!)

Last Movie: Hundreds of Beavers :D

Last TV Show: Auntie Donna's Big Ol' House of Fun, it's on Netflix so I can't link it wehhh

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: I am a FIEND for sweet and spicy, god I love it so so so much. If I get a pack of cookies expect them to be gone in under 3 days. My ma got me hot sauce for christmas but we found out 2 days later it was expired by 4 months ;w;

Relationship Status: Single pringle! Hoping one of the bars near me hosts a singles night, wehhh. Dating apps unhelpful too

Last Video Game Played: Yakuza Kiwami! I'm trying to get through the backlog of games I have yet to play, after Yakuza is Disco Elysium, Armored Core 6, Ultrakill, and finishing Dark Souls 3 (made it to the twin princes then just stopped)

Last Thing I Googled: adgq 2025 schedule- tomorrow night they're playing two of my favorite games, plus two I'm interested in the speedruns for (Mario 64 and DK Tropical Freeze), plus Superman 64 (a trainwreck I adore watching)

Current Obsession: 3D art, I feel like every few days I shift between art mediums and this is the current one. I'm recording the making of my current model, Reddy TF2, so I can edit a video explaining how I make models- it's fairly simple but the skill floor is reaaaally high. Also trying to force myself to write, that Elden Ring/TF2 au wont write itself. Also the One Thousand Uncles community gamemode in TF2, it's fun as hell

Things I'm Looking Forward To: Whatever the heck TF2 has going for it next. With comic 7 dropping I'm cautiously optimistic for the future and a potential soonish Heavy update. Also Elden Ring Nightreign, I want to play as a canonical furry in a Fromsoft game (beyond the furry I already made in ER)

Thanks for the tag ruri! :D Tagging @0sbrain @markingatlightspeed @panpteryx @pantspissedinreverse and @bitterpossum

Get To Know You Better Challenge Reblog:

Thanks for the tag, @cheetochild989!

I don't normally do things like this because I like to be mysterious but I have some people that I'm curious to learn about. So. I'll do some.

Last Song: Not Sorry For Loving You (From Epic!)

Favorite Color: >:) Guess

Last Book: We going fanfiction for this one:

Welcome Home Brother by OptimisticallyCynical

Last Movie: The Dark Tower (Highly Recommend)

Last TV Show: 2012TMNT (SHOCK AND AWE!!!)

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: Sweets. Mmmmmm

Relationship Status: It's complicated 👍

Last Video Game Played: Wii Sports Resort (obsessed with tennis)

Last Thing I Googled: "is it unhealthy to tranq someone consistently"

...It's safest for everyone if you don't ask questions.

Current Obsession: (You guys will NEVER guess.)

Things I'm Looking Forward To: Finally finishing What Was Lost (so close!!) and TMNT MOVIE NIGHT WITH A LONGTIME FRIEND!!

No pressure tags:

@teks-emporium @puma-or-cougar @tmntforeverinmyheart @greenlovescats @fluffyslug @juhamato

@sleepingdragon11 @ceciturtle @theintrovertedghost @truths33k3r4 @daboyau

@poetique823 @apriltellorocks @craacked-splatters @happydragondragon

+ Anyone and everyone else who wants to join! Feel free!

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city-tickles · 5 hours ago

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Giving and Receiving some End Of The Year Tickles!

Hi!

It was the end of the year and I had a rough month, so I wanted to close out my December with some tickling fun at one of the parties in NYC. Here's what happened.

First, I got a pedicure because that was long overdue. It normally isn’t that ticklish, but I definitely let out a grunt or two during the scrubbing lol

(What a great pic this is lol)

I got to the party early, which is good because even though they were still setting up, people were already getting their girls. The girls I wanted from last time were already busy; unfortunately, that’s how it stayed the entire night. Luckily, I ran into this girl named Kat, a beautiful l, slender Black and Hispanic woman. I recognized her from last time because I remember her loud laugh from when she was getting tickled.

I approached her and we started talking. She asked me what I was into and told her tickling. Her eyes darted back as she was not in a tickling mood. She let me know she hadn’t done a tickling session in a long time. Then she recognized me as the person who brought stocks to these parties. I let her know that if it helped, I also enjoyed being a lee. Her eyes lit up as a mischievous grin came upon her face. She was intrigued because she didn’t usually get to tickle someone at these parties.

At these parties, there isn’t a lot of space, because other sessions are going on next to you so at first there wasn’t a room. Thankfully, we found a spot to play and she assigned roles. I put on a blindfold and since we were trapped under a protective sheet, She was the “spider” and I was the “caterpillar” in her web. Before we started, she had me take a deep breath in and out a few times. Then the last time. she started tickling when I started taking them, which made me laugh while inhaling and exhaling. She started going through all my spots, taunting me the entire way, commenting on how ticklish I was and how sensitive the spots were as I laughed my head off.

Then, she had me raise my arm up one by one, and spider tickled from my hands down to to my armpit and attacked there. I wish I could tell you everything she was saying because she was a 100% a trash talking ler. Teasing every reaction and asking if I was ticklish there in certain spots and pretending to be shocked.

She also tried some of my tools on me which included @ticklingduck’s little device and his big scalp device on my feet, legs and knees. After that, she went full on scribble attack on my sides and ribs and underarms where I’m laughing so hard. We found out we were laughing too hard because the manager told us to take it to the back of the room because we were drawing too much attention lol

After she finds a spot for us, I pack up my tools (which were a lot), grab my coat and walk to the back where we can play some more. To save time, I had to put my shoes on with no socks. It was very brief but also a tiny fantasy of mine to be vulnerable to be tickled that way

We get to the back and she puts me in the stocks. This time we don't use a blindfold because she wants me to see what she is going to do me. This was a bigger test for me because I think I react better when I don't see what's going on. She had me do the breathing technique again while scribbling all over my feet, which caused me to laugh and made her only tease me on. "C'mon! It's just breathing." After that she really worked on my feet with a variety of tools, the TicklingDuck scalp massager and other device, the vibrating feather, flossing ostrich feathers between my toes, her OWN HEELS and of course scribbling with her fingers and spelling out her name on my soles.

One of the things she did before we moved places was ask me questions that I would've had no idea what the answer was because never discussed it! First she asked me what her favorite color was, which I knew the answer, then she asked me what her other favorite color was, which I didn't know and she tortured my upperbody some more. She continued this, asking what her favorite animal was, and tickling more when I tried to figure out the answer.

All while she continued to tease me as the caterpillar caught in her web.

She then gave me a break and told me to check out how much I was sweating, which us both laugh, before going back to it. She used the vibrating feather device on my knees and a little on my upperbody before focusing more on my upperbody with her fingers. She attacked my sides, tummy and underarms vigoruosly all while teasing how ticklish I was and saying "Tickle tickle tickle" along with otther silly but cute noises and phrases, loving every mninute of it.

After that, she gave me even more suprises when she began to spider tickle my palms and was surprised they were ticklish. She didn't stay there long, but she continue to spider tickle down my arm trying to get to my armpits, but kept stopping along the way because she found some ticklish parts I didn't even know about. She got to my biceps and OMG were they sensitive! I am not a super fit person so I don't really think about my biceps but they quickly moved up to a top ticklish spot because it was almost unbearable to have her nails dance along that area while she giggled and told me she loved finding new spots that people didn't know.

Then she began gently tickling my neck and chest (another spot that I didn't know was THAT ticklish) before digging into my underarms further driving me crazy. After givin my upperbody and feet a few more attacks, she asked me all the questions again, which I got the answers right, except for another one that wasn't in our conversation, which made her torture me some more before she let me out the stocks and have a break.

As I caught my breath, we got to know each other more and talk tickles. We had some time left, so she told me she would let me tickle her feet, but fingers only. The reason she was reluctant before was she had some lers that went too far and did not participate in any aftercare or concern for her, so it turned her off leeing for a bit. I was very grateful and appreciative she would give me the chance, so I made sure not to take advantage.

I took her heels off and put her cute, tiny feet in my lap. I complimented her dark blue pedicure, which she appreciated because others thought it was a different color. Then I began to gently scribble on her soles, which already had her jumping, screaming and snorting. Rather than ask her questions, I would talk with her and use that as part of a reason to tickle her. For example, she went on vacation recently, so I would ask her about the trip, and say things like, "It's good to relax. Put your feet on the grass. I bet it felt something like this" and then would gently tickle to simulate feet on grass.

I continued to do this with every answer she gave me. One part, where we sped things up was I found out she was into metal music, so I would scribble up and down her soles and under her toes pretending to do fast songs or spell out an artists name. Each time she would laugh loudly, swearing, snorting and making cute noises.

At one point, I found out her right foot as more ticklish than her left one, so I gave her a choice which one for me to tickle, she said the left one and expected the right immediately, but I went for the left. She told me, "I thought you were gonna go for the right!" And I replied, "I'm a man of my word, but if you want me to! I will!" Then started to attack her right foot, as she tried to get away, but I had her in a gentle ankle lock, so she wasn't able to move!

I did this sporadically for 20 minutes since she needed breaks every few minutes. During those breaks, I'd gently caress her feet and legs and make sure she was feeling okay, and reassuring that she's doing an awesome job. Eventually, our time was up and we talked about how much fun we had, and how we would definitely do it again in the future.

She is in NYC and does sessions and doesn't mind getting a shoutout, so if that is something you are interested in, especially if you are lee leaning, let me know and I will tell you who she is. If you are a ler, she might not be as eager yet.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story!

#tickling #ticklish #male tickling #f/m tickling #m/f tickling #tickle story #tickle party #personal tickling #tickle gif #tickle gifs #upperbody tickling #male upperbody tickling

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tuesday-teyz · 2 days ago

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Hai teyz,

Im really excited (scared, VERY SCARED.) for chapter 41 and i know that some of our questions will be answered in the next chapter, but i want to ask if in the next chapter, we will be able to see dreams perspective again or maybe george or technos perspective, since i really want to know how those two partnered up and what happened to dream :D

I don't think we're going to have a Techno or George perspective in chapter 41, as I'm planning something different. Remember how Wilbur and Techno's pov segments showed up occasionally before their respective interlude chapters? Well, I think it's time to give Phil a segment. I've written a little something (not guranteed to make it to the final version of the chapter, but a fun glimpse into his youth nevertheless!)

“If you’re done brooding, why don’t you ask someone to dance?” Clara said as she came up to him unnoticed, her hair and wings draped in jewelry, half her face obscured behind an ornate fan. She shone like the starlit night in the bountiful glow of gilded chandeliers, and any eye seeking Phil in the vast and teeming ballroom would inevitably stray to her instead. It was a small kindness in the greater scheme of things, but he was thankful nevertheless.

“And deprive the wall of the joy of my company?” he asked. “Never.”

Clara looked just about ready to smack him with her fan. Phil shuffled subtly out of range and sipped from his glass. “You cannot avoid it forever,” his sister said. “The public will expect you to name your empress before the year’s turn.”

Phil’s chest seized around a breath. He was still wearing the mourning colors, white as snow, and yet the proposals had already began flooding in, each new one bolder and more urgent than the last. Even the birthday celebrations were nothing more than a poor-veiled excuse for all the great lords and ladies of the court to try their young daughters for the new empress of the Antarctic Empire. Stronger than his disdain for the court’s cruelty was only his pity for the daughters.

“If rumors spread of me having a hand in Isey’s death, do you reckon that would discourage them for a few months?” Phil asked, thinking in pure hypotheticals. Feathers shot out to smack him in the back of the head all the same. He spilled half his drink on the floor and turned to glare at Clara, but she had already gone back to fanning her face like nothing happened, her wings neatly arranged and the jewelry tinkling softly as it moved.

#br asks #Phil pov!#who does he remind you of?

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moon-ayyye · 2 days ago

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oooh, more about the identity porn jaysteph please

One of our favourite Au's is Jason not returning to the bats or becoming the Red Hood. My friend prefers Au's where he just retires and lives out his life normally, and while I agree, I prefer one where he just does All Caste shit and helps out in Gotham, just not as a vigilante.

In this Au, he'd be more wary of the Al Ghuls, so he wouldn't take Talia's words at face value. Sure, he'd find out about Tim and the Joker being alive, but he'd doubt that she had his best interest at heart when telling him. He trains with the All Caste, and he'd get his head on straight. Of course, he'd feel abandoned, so he stays with them until he completes his training, and everyone is less wary about him being the chosen one.

Cursed Gotham is a very fun headcanon, so I'd make it so Jason returns so he can 'purge' the curse. This would include killing the Joker (obviously) and clearing out the slaughter swamp, which results in him being chill with Swamp Thing. Once he's done with everything, Gotham would recover from being a hell hole, but it wouldn't become good; shit's mega fucked no matter which way you slice it. It's why he sets up community centres and shit and uses magic to ward off any intruders. This includes anyone who intends to cause harm or to spy on any resident, which would include the bats.

It takes a while, but eventually, he's trusted by the people there. Him hiring ex-cons and being really protective of kids would really help with that. Whenever the bats try to interrogate alley residents about the centres and their mysterious benefactor, they clam up. Whenever they try to spy on Jason, they get clocked, which causes their reputation to take a hit. Why are they investigating places that help the poor and unfortunate? Do they think all alley residents are unredeemable?

Well, what about going undercover? That wouldn't work since all the Waynes are very recognisable, and people think that they're close to the bats, so it would fuck shit up even more.

Here's where Steph comes in. She's already a volunteer since she always wanted to become a nurse, and because she wanted to help people like her mother, who actually benefited from one of the rehab centres, so in her mind, she's paying it forward.

She keeps running into Jason when they're both volunteering. Since Bruce doesn't talk about Jason, and has canonically gotten rid of every trace of him in the manor, she wouldn't recognise him, and he wouldn't know her because she's not a Wayne. He wouldn't look upr the bats since he doesn't really care; they're not his concern, and he doesn't want to see them.

She sees that he's easygoing and pretty well liked by all the people there, so she strikes up a conversation, and they get along really well. They're pretty similar, what with the addict mother and criminal father. I think their friendship would really help Steph with overcoming her self-esteem issues since she gets support from Jason and people at the centre that she never got from the bats.

Over the next few months, she grows even closer to Jason as they reveal more about themselves, and she finds herself texting him constantly and thinking about him, while he's pretty much the same. Mutual almost obsession with each other. He's more expressive and happy, and it's noticeable to everybody around him.

The bats don't notice any difference in her general behaviour except for Cass, who notices that her best friend is really into somebody. She tries to spy on him to make sure he wouldn't hurt her friend, and he clocks her immediately (all caste training made him hyper aware of everything, and I headcanon that the lazarus pit counts as pure evil, so it triggers the all blade). This, of course, unnerves her, and she becomes obsessed with finding out about the man who managed to notice her when she manages to sneak up on batman and League assassins all the time. Jason doesn't put 2 and 2 together since he has no reason to. To him, it's just the bats being paranoid

This all culminates in Jason and Steph sleeping together, and generally getting more serious, which causes Cass to break in and confront them. Jason starts fighting her, and he's actually winning, which freaks Steph and Cass out. Steph interrupts them, heartbroken because she thinks that Jason only got with her because she was Batgirl, which causes Jason to get heartbroken, since he know thinks that she was only eith him because the bats figuired him out.

He starts raging about how Bruce can't leave him alone, which gives the Batgirls pause because what is he talking about? He reveals that he's actually the second robin, which shocks both of them, and in the confusion, he just leaves. He takes his emergency duffle and goes back to the Acres of All to compose himself.

Now, do they figure out a solution? Get back together? Stay apart? Do they tell Bruce? Up to you. Personally, I think they wouldn't tell Bruce, and they'd get back together like a year later. A bunch of angst, but a happy resolution, because I like being happy, thank you very much.

#jason todd #stephanie brown #jaysteph #all caste #all caste jason todd #cassandra cain #minor but still #jason doesn't reveal his identity #jason doesn't return to the bats

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toytoriyadorm · 3 days ago

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Prologue

The celebration of childhood has begun…

In a world far more twisted than ours lies a blonde teen sleeping in bed, with his familiar lying right next to him. As darkness envelops his vision, a scene begins to play in his head. A group of lost toys are greeted by a paradise– a daycare– where children come to play with objects like them everyday. Among them is a space ranger who’s effects and details have been scratched out with time, a dinosaur whose tail looks twisted, and a cowgirl and cowboy. The latter’s gold badge still shines as if it were new.

A yellow truck rolls up to them, with a pink teddy bear inside. “Well, hello there!” He sings with a cheerful tune before hopping off the vehicle. “I thought I heard new voices! Welcome to Sunnyside!”

As the stuffed animal gives the space ranger a hug, the scene shifts to a play area, as the toys get ready for a day of fun. Excitement spreads across the dinosaur's face as he runs towards the door, excited to have new playmates after such a long time…

++++

Heavy eyelids give way to a pair of dark blue pupils. Wiping away the tiredness, the teen gets up and looks at his dead clock. He stares at it, proceeding to grab the watch lying next to it. He glances at the time.

7:30 AM

He blinks twice.

“GRIM! Get up! Get up now!” With a rush of energy, the student throws himself forward and climbs off the bed.

“Nyegh…What is it Yuukei-YEOWCH!” The familiar’s, Grim, flames shoot upwards as Yuukei’s foot tramples on his poor tail. “Watch where you’re stepping!”

“Sorry!” Yuukei mutters as he scrambles off the worn bed, looking for his school uniform. “But we’re gonna be late!”

It’s been a few months since Yuukei landed himself in Twisted Wonderland after his “incident” with a few street robbers and the odd encounter with the Night Raven College’s magic carriage. Despite dealing with less-than-average grades, a certain green-haired student who will simply not shut up, and saving the school from destruction by teens who have never gone to therapy, he’s managed quite the stable life for himself.

“My beanie…my beanie… Aha!” The blonde teen exclaimed as he lifted the worn hat off the floor and put it atop his head.

“When are you gonna throw that thing? It’s starting to look raggedy.” Grim said as he picked up his ribbon.

“Uh, never!” He nabbed the fabric off Grim’s hands and quickly began to tie it around the animal’s neck. “My uncle gave it to me.”

“Nyeh, the uncle that called you a jerk?”

“No, no. The one that's not technically my relative, remember? He used to live a few blocks from me. It's practically my own family heirloom now!” He finished the bow with a satisfied grin, “Now let's go before Professor Crewel decides to make us clean the cauldrons!”

Grim jumped onto Yuukei’s shoulders as the teen grabbed his bag. The two ran out the door into the winter morning and towards the giant school of NRC. During the fall months, the school would have resembled some kind of haunted castle. But with winter, the sparkling snow has complimented the area’s prestigious aesthetic rather well.

“Too bad I can’t stick around to look at all the snow…” Yuukei thinks, as he runs up the flights of stairs and into the school. However, instead of the lively halls he was accustomed to, the Ramshackle student was surprised to be met with almost empty halls.

“Ehh?” Grim mumbled, “Did they start classes early or somethin’?”

“They would have made an announcement if that happened…” Yuukei replied, as they walked around the school halls. Still, even the classrooms had no students, and the two still haven’t seen any of their other first year friends.

It wasn’t until the third floor that a familiar voice called out to them. “Yuu, over here!” Yuukei spun his head to see Ace and what appeared to be a large crowd behind him. “Man, you might wanna take a look at this.”

Pushing past the cluster of gossiping students, Yuukei and Grim manage to get to the front of the blockade. They stare, mouths agape, at the scene in front of them.

CHAPTER 1: Welcome to Memory Lane!

The hall, which would normally match the college’s clean yet moody atmosphere, was decked from wall to wall with pastel decor. Streamers, confetti, stickers, and what looks to be paint have made its way across the floor and somehow stuck to the ceiling. And the normal club posters that scattered across the bulletin board were replaced with blindingly white posters, the title “Festival of Memories” covering them with an equally horrendous font. Right in the middle of it were two students in pastel pink dorm colors having a screaming match.

In far more simpler terms, it was a mess that not even Yuukei could conjure up. He opened his mouth to ask who had done this when a certain hot-headed dorm leader answered for him. Riddle Rosehearts, appalled by the scene in front of him, gripped one of the posters so hard Yuukei thought the shorter man was going to rip it to shreds.

“Those accursed Toytoriya students!”

Riddle looked like he was going to overblot all over again, as he and the crowd gazed upon the mess in the hallway. Alerted by the noise, a few more students joined the group.

Yuukei spoke, “Toytoriya? Is that some kind of new brand or somethin’?”

A familiar, smooth voice answered the question, “As hilarious as that would be, little potato, I’m afraid you’re wrong.”

Vil and Leona popped up behind Riddle, fascinated and horrified at the sight in front of them. “Toytoriya, the dorm of imagination, finally crawled out of its study hole, and it looks like their Festival of Dreams appeared with it.” Vil scoffs.

Grim chimes in with his own questions, “Festival of Dreams?? Toytoriya?? Nya, you gotta give us more details here!”

Pomefiore’s leader let out a sigh, seeing that Riddle looked far too angry to give any exposition. “Toytoriya’s not too different from other dorms if you don’t count their ugly flair to things. But instead of something simple like a potion competition to choose dorm leadership, these theater kids’ leaders are chosen based on their experience with stageplays.”

Grim looks towards the two arguing first years, “I still don’t get it, ain’t it just auditioning? Why the need for crazy advertising?”

Leona yawned before adding in, “That’s what you’d think, but it turns out Toytoriya’s takes their creativity bit way too seriously. Turns out they have a deal with the Headmaster where they get the school’s colosseum for a single weekend during the entire year. They end up setting up everything from food stalls to fireworks. It’s like a glorified version of VDC!” He smirks.

“Glorified? Don’t be silly.” Vil counters, “VDC is complex, hard to train for, and is known worldwide unless you live under a rock. But that accursed festival? It’s nothing more than a bunch of fools prancing around on stage. Remember the 2nd place winner last year?”

“Who doesn’t? The guy was so bad that I voted for Lotsie.” Leona’s nose suddenly crinkles in disgust, “Speak of the Devil…”

“Excuse me! Sorry!” A light and dreamy voice arose from the crowd. Quickly, the group dispersed, allowing a pink-haired man to walk through, cane in hand. As he got closer, Yuukei smelled a whiff of strawberry perfume– likely what’s causing Leona’s face to scrunch up.

“I messed up my foot while casting a spell yesterday,” The man, presumably Lotsie, began, “so next thing you know I have to find my cane! And then I forget how far the entrance portal is and get driven to the dorm entrance and-“

“WILLIAM HUGGINS.” Riddle grabbed the student’s shirt and pointed towards the mess behind him, “What are you going to do about this?”

“Ahh, the hall… Wow, those two first years seriously went all out!”

Your first years, Huggins. Your first years went all out.” Riddle let out an exasperated sigh. “Your birthday may be coming up, but that does not make you nor your dorm exempt from destroying the school’s halls!”

Lotsie’s form shrinked back, despite him being almost a head taller than Heartslabyul’s leader. “I know! I’m sorry! But they’re first years, and it’s their first time doing all this stuff! I just wanted them to have fun!”

Riddle seemed to calm down with Lotsie’s explanation, bits of rage red withdrawing from the 2nd year’s face. “Fine, fine, I won’t report this time. But get this stuff cleaned up before lunch! And by the great eight, Lotsie, get your group together. And yourself together for that matter, you’re almost a fourth year, so act like it!”

“...Yes, sir!” Lotsie said with a nervous smile.

“And the rest of you,” Riddle turned to the crowd of gawking students, “it's best you leave now, unless you plan to all get detention.”

And with that, the crowd dispersed to avoid the wrath of Riddle. Thus, leaving Lotsie, Yuukei, Grim, and the two first year students who caused this mess.

CHAPTER 2: Child’s Argument

“Oh! You’re Ramshackle’s prefect!” Lotsie exclaimed, finally noticing Yuukei. He glanced at Grim. “And that’s your..?”

“Master!” Grim answered with his usual smirk. Lotsie replied with a sad smile. “Ah, I’m so embarrassed that you two witnessed all that! I hope your impression of me wasn’t too damaged…”

“Ehh, not too much,” Yuukei scratched his head, “it's not your fault after all, that goes to the two sitting down over there.”

“I suppose you’re right. Although, now that you’ve brought it up…” The pink haired man’s voice trailed, as the trio looked at the students who caused the whole mess. They appear to have calmed down, now sitting away from each other on the messy floor.

Lotsie walks up to them and squats down. “Winston, Zackery, do either of you want to tell me what hap-”

The first year donning a side ponytail pointed towards the other, “It’s all his fault! He brought out a bunch of drones and started chucking paint and confetti all over the place!”

The second one, with striking purple hair and red eyes, gasped, “How dare thee?! King Huggins, this slandering hero is made up of lies! I, Zackery Heidrich the 3rd, may pride myself on my villainy, but I dare not throw that blame onto someone else! Not to mention, the hero was the one who thought it’d be a good idea to start plastering those ugly paintings on the walls!”

Yuukei and Grim looked at each other in confusion as Winston gritted his teeth, “Ugly?! The hell’s that supposed to mean?!”

“You know what it means, you bumpkin hero! Everyone in the kingdom of toys knows you can’t draw, much less make a poster! My minions could do a better job and they’re not even fully programmed yet!”

Their arguing started up once more, with Lotsie’s pleas to stop falling on deaf ears. From Yuukei’s point of view, the scene reminds him of a teacher trying to console two children. He could hear Grim snicker behind him. Suddenly, an idea pops up in the blonde teen’s mind.

“Does it matter who did what?” He began, “The two of you are still gonna have to clean this stuff up together. Unless you plan to make your poor dorm leader pick up the slack for you…”

In the corner of Yuukei’s eye, he sees Lotsie’s confused look. He shoots a glance back towards the pink-haired man.

Lotsie catches on and sighs. “Oh, I suppose I will have to clean all this stuff up… with my poor leg too… If only my underclassmen could stop fighting-”

“We’ll clean up!” The two yell in unison, not wanting to disappoint the dorm leader they look up to. Before Lotsie could say anymore, the two sped off to look for the janitor’s closet.

“Oh, thank the eight, and you!” He turned to Yuukei and Grim. “The student body was right, Ramshackle’s new students really are a godsend! How did you know to do that with those two?”

“It's nothing much!” Yuukei replied, “Back home, I have a lot of younger cousins that argue a lot, and my aunt would usually play the pity card to make them stop. Their fighting just reminded me of them!”

“Well, I’m glad your aunt taught you such a good trick! I wouldn’t have thought of something so creative!”

“Hah? That doesn’t make sense, aren’t you literally the leader of the dorm of imagination or something like that?” Grim asks?

Lotsie giggles nervously, “Yes, I am. But I don’t have much experience with being a mediator in arguments, just one of those adult things I never came to understand. Still! At least now we can get to class quicker.” Toytoriya’s dorm leader looked towards the classrooms.

“Ah! I totally forgot about my textbooks!” He exclaimed and snapped his head to Yuukei, “I’m so sorry to ask, but could you watch over Winston and Zackery while they clean? They’re usually really fast, but I don’t want them devolving into another fight.”

“I mean, I guess I can-”

“Thank you so much! And I’ll make it up to you, I swear!” Lotsie promised. “And if you have any stuff, just come on over to Toytoriya and hand it to me!”

As Yuukei’s classmates come back with mops and buckets in hand, Lotsie quickly thanks them and leaves. Before the trio could begin, however, Zackery snatched the mop from Yuukei’s hands.

“Hey, what’s the big idea?” Grim demanded.

“Hmph! Worry not to tiring yourselves out, Ramshackle civilians! My totally evil drones will clean up this place in a jiffy!”

“You and those darn robots again!” Winston exclaimed, sponge in hand, “What really gets things clean is just doing the work by hand!”

“Hah! Does the hero dare challenge my minions to another game of who’s faster?”

“You bet I do!”

As the two begin scrubbing the floors and tearing down streamers from the ceiling with a great fervor, Yuukei begins to understand how the hallway got to its messy state in the first place.

CHAPTER 3: Pocket Watch

Lotsie certainly wasn’t lying when he said the first years could get the hallway done fast, but Yuukei couldn’t tell if that's because of the amount of drones Zackery had come in or the sheer drive Winston had to get the place looking spotless. Either way, the hallway was clean with 3 minutes to spare till classes began.

Grim noticed something sparkling on the floor, and picked it up. “Myeh, Yuukei, look what I found’.” The beast handed the item to his henchman, who looked it over.

“A pocket watch?” Yuukei muttered as he pressed the button on the silver timepiece’s top. Inside, nothing looked to be working.

“Hey, I think you guys forgot a prop…” Yuukei turned to face Toytoriya’s first years only for them to have already sped down the corridor. “Crap, what time is it? C’mon Grim, we’ll just give this thing to Winston later!”

Running into the classroom right on time, the rest of the duo’s day passed uneventfully, save for Ace and Deuce whispering to them about the spectacular mess from that morning.

“So…what were they like?” Ace asked the blonde classmate during lunchtime, his usual smirk lying right on his face.

“What was what like?” Yuukei asked back, half of his tray being devoured by Grim.

“Those guys from Toytoriya, duh!” Ace scoffed. “Are they weird like everyone says they are? Or are they just super immature?”

“C’mon Ace, it's rude to talk about your classmates in such a way.” Deuce’s eyebrows furrowed. “Although, I’m also interested in the students from that dorm. I don’t think any Toytoriya students made it into our class, so I’ve never really got to know any of them…”

“Well, they’re a little immature, sure,” Yuukei pondered earlier that day, “But I wouldn’t call them weird, maybe just super eccentric!”

“So… they’re weird.”

“Why’s it matter to you?” Grim interrupts, “We gotta head over to their dorm to give ‘em something back. Why not meet them yourselves and follow us in!”

He takes another bite of Yuukei’s food as the Heartslabyul duo look at him. “Really?! We’re allowed to go in just like that?” Ace exclaimed.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t you?”

“NRC’s second years have all kinds of stories about that dorm. Like, scary ones! They say if you sneak in or out of the dorm without permission, you’ll go crazy!”

Yuukei raises an eyebrow, “I don’t believe you.”

“I’m serious!” Ace argued, before leaning close and whispering, “A few days ago, I saw a Heartslabyul student get returned from Toytoriya during the night. Apparently, he broke something while trying to sneak into the dorm. He looked fine, he just said the dorm’s leader gave him a real good talking-to. But the next day, the guy had a full-blown breakdown! Everyone says it's because of Toytoriya’s put a curse on him!”

“Wasn’t that a myth? N-Not that I listen to any conspiracy theories in the school,” Deuce coughs. “The nurse checked him and said he must be having bad sleep problems.”

“What kind of sleep is able to do something like that?!”

“The real restless kind, I bet.” Yuukei says. “Anyways, I’ll just go with Grim’s idea and bring you guys along. Their dorm leader’s crazy nice, I’m sure he’ll be fine with it.”

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#toytoriya #toytoriya's mayor of playtime #twisted wonderland fandorm #twst fanfic

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