#this is probably more in depth than anyone would’ve wanted but I couldn’t stop

[xdarkestdesirex]

When Faith Meets Juvenile - Chap 4

This is a Dale Holt x reader story. There's no (y/n) insert. I'm just avoiding the use of the reader's name, and it is female-based. There are hints of physical appearance but nothing in-depth.

This writing contains highly sensitive content like violence, drugs, the use of weapons, abuse, mental illness, hostage situations, talk of suicide, religious abuse, smut, and other mature themes. Reader discretion is advised. MUST BE 18+ TO INTERACT.

I do not allow anyone to copy, alter, or repost my work as their own.

2254-word count

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I anxiously sat on my bed, holding my knees to my chest, watching the second hand on my clock go tic’ tic’ tic.’ It was fifteen minutes until midnight, which meant it was fifteen minutes until I was supposed to sneak out of my house. I still can’t believe I told Dale Holt I would do this a few hours ago. Pins and needles were shooting through my body, and my legs were shaking uncontrollably. The only bad thing I’ve done is lie to my parents. Going against them like this created a knot in my stomach, and I was debating not going and just staying home. I know he would be disappointed, but surely he’ll understand. I got up from my bed and started pacing back and forth. Both my parents are sleeping, and their room is on the opposite side of the house from mine. The only person I worry about is my brother, whose room is next door, and he could hear me leave through my window. 

I decided that I couldn’t risk being caught by my brother. He would make things worse for me than they already were, and I couldn’t bear any more of the treatment I’d been getting. I walked over to my desk chair and grabbed my pajamas, which were folded neatly on the seat. I had already dressed for the occasion: a plain black crew neck that was a bit oversized, light denim mom jeans, and a pair of white sneakers. I even had a bag I put together with snacks and a blanket. Now that I think about it, he probably would’ve laughed at me for bringing all these things when sneaking out. My cheeks heated up just thinking about the embarrassment. I was about to take the crew neck off when I heard a weird tapping behind me. It wasn’t loud, but enough to get my attention. I turned around to see a boy’s face peeking through my window. My heart stopped for a moment, and a scream caught in the back of my throat. 

Dale Holt was standing outside my window. 

I ran towards my window and quickly opened it. “Shhhh!” I whispered to him while motioning to my lips for him to be quiet. “W-what are you doing here?” I whispered.

“I was tired of waiting and knew you would chicken out, so I decided to come to you instead.” His signature smirk was plastered on his face. 

“I wasn’t going to chicken out! I was just about to leave!” My voice broke through the whisper I was doing, and I slapped my hand against my mouth. I wanted to prove to him that I wasn’t a chicken. I started pushing on the edges of the screen for my window to try and pop it out as quietly as possible. Dale stood back and watched me with amusement as I struggled. How did I do this that one time I chased after my brother? Maybe it’s because Dale’s deep blue eyes are so focused on me that it’s making me nervous. 

“Let me, Doll,” he said after having had enough enjoyment of watching me fail. He pulled something out of his pocket to pop the screen clean off. I stood there in awe and embarrassment that it was so easy for him. “Are you ready?” he said in a low, husky voice. All I could do was nod my head.

As I went to climb out of the window, I stared back at the bag I had prepared for tonight. I quickly grabbed it, slinging the strap around my neck, and with help from Dale, I was out of the house. He gripped my hand tightly and pulled me with him as he started to run, forcing me to run alongside him. The adrenaline coursing through my veins made it easy to keep up with him. It felt like we were running away together, and slowly, all the anxiety I was feeling only ten minutes ago left my body.

When we reached Dale’s truck, I bent over and tried to catch my breath. Dale leans against the side of his vehicle and folds his arms over his chest. I curse his good physique for not winding him as much as me. After a minute, I regained my breath, stood back up, and stared at the boy before me. The moon glistened off his pale skin, making him look almost angelic. I quickly averted my eyes from him and looked towards the ground. 

“So, Doll, how does it feel to be out after curfew?” His teasing tone drips from his mouth, and I can’t help but scuff in response. 

“Why don’t you ask me again once we’ve been out for a while?”

“You’re right,” he pauses and then asks, “How does it feel to be out after curfew?” He flashes me his annoying grin. I roll my eyes, but a stupid smile still finds its home on my face. 

“Anyways,” I say,  “Where does the ‘oh so famous’ Dale Holt plan to take me.” 

“I don’t know,” He shrugs his shoulders. 

“What?” That was all I could get out. Doesn’t he know where we’re going? I thought he had a place planned when he asked me to sneak out with him.

“I figured we could drive around until we feel like stopping and make a spot to camp out for the night.” He winks at me. Oh my god. What was that for? My whole body is suddenly sweating in the cold air. There’s no way we’re camping somewhere, and does he plan to do something with me? Sneaking out was so stupid of me. Why did I think this would be an average outing with a friend? But then Dale speaks up like he’s reading the thoughts in my mind. “Relax, Doll. I’ll bring you back before anyone notices, and I won’t do anything to you… Unless you want me to.” 

Why did he have to add that last part? Thankfully, it’s dark out, or he might notice how my face turned into a steaming tomato. 

“L-l-lets get going, then.” I rush to the passenger side door and fling myself into the truck before he can say anything else.

Dale gets into the driver’s seat and puts the key into the ignition, causing the truck to roar to life. Once we were out on the desert roads, the brunette male turned the nob to the radio and blasted the music through the speakers. His eyes focused on the road ahead, and mine focused on him. He was carefree, with one arm hanging out the window, wind kissing the tips of his fingers, and the other tapping to the beat of the music while he steered the truck. When the next song came on, Dale turned to me and said it was his favorite. He spun the volume nob in hopes the music would get louder, but it was already up as loud as it could. His other arm returned to the car to clutch the wheel, and Dale began to bang his head along with the beat. Once the lyrics started, he turned to look at me and belted each word at the top of his lungs.

All I could do was stare in awe as he rocked out. A weird feeling washed through my chest as I saw Dale having fun. I couldn’t help but slowly lose myself in the beat and started to bang my head along with his. I didn’t know the lyrics to this song, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t have fun. His smile seemed to grow as he watched me let loose. His voice was off-pitch from the singers’, but oddly, it was my favorite tune. I could listen to him scream-sing any day.

We’ve been on the road for about an hour now, and we’ve been blasting music and dancing/singing along to each song. I didn’t know much about what was playing on the station he had on, but I was starting to love the banging of drums, loud guitar, and gritty vocals. At some point, I rolled down my window and stuck my head out, feeling the wind whip at my cheeks. I’m not sure what came over me, but the overwhelming feeling of screaming into the void of darkness got the better of me. So, I gave in to my intrusive thoughts and screamed as loud as I could.

Dale looked at me questioningly, “What was that, Doll?” 

“I couldn’t help myself,” I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks.

Not too long after, Dale turned off onto a dirt road, slowing the truck down once we pulled into a large open field. He threw the vehicle in park, flung the door open, and jumped out. Dale made his way onto the other side and opened the passenger door for me. His soft yet calloused hand grabbed mine, and he helped me hop out of the truck. I didn’t need help; the truck wasn’t tall, but I wouldn’t refuse him. We walked a few feet from the car, and I pulled the blanket out of my bag and laid it down on the ground. Dale plopped his body on the blanket and stared at the sky. I followed his moves and laid down next to the male, making sure to keep a few inches between the two of us. The sky was beautiful. So many stars were visible tonight, and I was trying my best to find all the constellations I could. I looked towards Dale, who was lying there with his eyes closed. His face was soft, and he looked so peaceful. 

“Are you sleeping?” I ask the brunette male.

“Just resting my eyes,” Dale spoke quietly.

“Mmhm,” I playfully nudged his side. 

Dale propped himself up to face me, causing him to hover slightly over my body. “Not sleeping, Doll.” And thankfully, he laid back down, or else he’d noticed the heat blooming on the apples of my cheeks. Stupid boy is always getting me flustered. I hear the sound of a flame and glance over to see a white stick perched between the male’s lip as he lifts the lighter to said stick, causing the end to glow red as he draws the smoke into his lungs. Dale blows the cloud of smoke into the air and then catches my eyes with his. “You want a drag?” He questioned me.

“Uh, no thanks, I’m good.” Cigarettes give me the ick, but watching the way he inhales and how his jaw and neck move is alarmingly attractive. 

“Good answer, Doll, you don’t want to get addicted to these things like me,” Dale lets out another puff. 

“It would technically be illegal for me to smoke it, anyways,” I cringe at myself for the ‘goodie-two-shoes’ reply I just gave. I’m supposed to be breaking the rules tonight. 

Dale stops mid-drag and looks at me wide-eyed, “What do you mean by that? Aren’t you 18?”

“I’ll be 18 next week,” I said casually.

“Ah, fuck,” Dale runs his hand over his face, and his body tenses up, “I should probably take you home now.” 

Why was he freaking out? I know he’s 19, but the fact that I’m not quite 18 shouldn’t bother him. It’s not like we’re doing things we shouldn’t. We’re just hanging out as friends do, but—there is his Juve sentence, so maybe he’s scared people will get the wrong idea if they notice us together?

“You don’t have to worry about people getting the wrong impression about you,” I state.

“You don’t understand,” his voice becomes stern. “People will always have the wrong impression of me.” Dale stands up and motions for me to do the same. A sigh escapes my lips, and I stand up, collecting the blanket and shaking it off before folding it back into my bag. I probably shouldn’t push the issue. He could probably get in trouble if he’s on probation. 

“Look, I know you went to Juve,” I said, looking Dale into his deep blue eyes, “I’m not sure why you did what you did, but the Dale I’ve met and have gotten to know is a kind guy. People are stupid to make assumptions based on a mistake you made.” 

“Oh, Doll, you don’t know anything about me,” Dale’s voice was low. I could barely catch the hint of sadness behind his tone, but it was there, and it made my chest hurt. He made his way back into the truck, and I just stood where I was, staring at the space where he was standing. I wanted to ask what he meant, and something profound inside me wants to figure it out. Slowly, I returned to the truck and sat on the passenger side. Unlike the ride out here, which was loud and full of laughter, the ride back was quiet and tense. Dale stopped his truck in the same spot where he had picked me up and refused to look at me.

“Well, thank you for this experience,” I said while exiting the vehicle. 

I slowly walked back to my house and climbed through the window, placing the screen back where it goes, shutting it, and locking it before drawing the curtains. Once I changed into my pajamas, I got under the covers and snuggled deeply into my blankets. Falling asleep was complicated, with all the thoughts running through my mind. Dale. What is his story?

AN:

Sorry for the long wait. I wish I could promise this won't happen again, but I'm afraid it probably will 🤧. This outing didn't go quite as planned for the reader and Dale. They both wanted to have a good time, but as Dale found out, the reader wasn't precisely 18 yet, and it kind of freaked him out. The last thing he wants is for someone to make a claim that he likes underage girls (even though she'll be 18 soon and he's 19). His record isn't clear, but if someone were to say something like that, it would ruin his life forever. He's also not that kind of guy and would gladly beat anyone to a pulp if they were. He also knows darkness lurks within him, and he feels touched that the reader thinks he's kind. But if she were to uncover all his monsters, he's sure she would think the same about him as everyone else.

[amorcie]

Vent-ish thing. If you read it, sorry. Just don’t judge me for it.

Or do, I guess. I can’t stop you.

Dear E,

I’m going to regret writing this soon but it’s okay because you’ll never see it. You don’t want to talk to us anymore and I’ve blocked you on all our new accounts because I’m not sure if I want to talk to you either. Maybe we weren’t a good friend to you in the end but neither were you. You would’ve been there otherwise. It took you so long to even acknowledge how we were doing. Even though you knew. Even though we’ve stated multiple times that we were doing bad.

I don’t know where I’m going with this. I lost my main support system and there’s no one I can rely on to the extent I relied on you and everyone else. Our bad, probably. We should’ve gotten close to other people instead of stupidly assuming we would all be friends forever and ever. It never last. We knew that, and yet we were still naive enough to think it would, this time.

I guess I resent you a lot, E. You still have all your friends and all those people you can count on but we don’t and that’s it, I guess. I don’t have any friends IRL. I’m back to being the loser with no one and who stays alone all the time.

Maybe we resent you too much.

Maybe any amount of resentment is too much resentment?

But I do. And I don’t think it’s going to stop anytime soon. I’m miserable, E. I’m miserable and you’re probably not. And I hate you for that. Fuck you for saying “I won’t give up on you” when you did that so easily. “You need help I can’t provide” — you couldn’t even give me the help you could provide. You put words in my mouth and I can’t believe I needed to call you out for it for you to realize that you did it. You would hate it if I did that to you.

I hate how patronizing you sounded in that last ask you sent us. I hate how you made me feel as if I was some pathetic thing so beneath you that you felt pity for. Some “pet project” that needed fixing, but that you couldn’t fix. Not that great, now are you?

Sorry that breakdown-me and stable-ish-me thought differently from each other. It’s almost as if I was under extreme duress and unable to think clearly because I was mentally ill and relieving some of the worst trauma of my life—newly discovered new trauma, at that. How dare I?

I haven’t talked about it in-depth to anyone else yet. I don’t know who to trust with such a vulnerable part of myself. I don’t even know how I feel about it.

But I was there when you struggled with yours. I helped you as best as I could. I told you that it was fine if you were suffering, that we wouldn’t blame you, that we hoped you’d feel better soon and that you deserved to be happy. That we’d be there. But I guess we don’t deserve the same treatment.

I still think M deserved to vent. It wasn’t annoying, it was understandable, and I never wanted to stop them from doing so.

… I think I and A should’ve never agreed to go out with them, to be honest. They were bound to disappear eventually — everyone in our system does. If not now, then in a couple months; in a couple years. It would never have lasted as much as they wanted it to.

That’s why we’re so hesitant about dating now, even though we pretty much all want it more than anything else in the world.

Maybe we’re just hungry for love. Our father loves us — but it’s all twisted and sick, and it didn’t stop him from hurting us. Our mother likes the idea of us, the us we never were and never will be. We don’t know if anyone else loves us. Maybe not. Maybe we’re too broken and imperfect for it.

We’re nothing in the grand scheme of things. If we were gone, people would be sad for a bit, and then they would move on, just like you did, E. I’m pretty sure you don’t think about us anymore.

We were never that important, were we?

I can’t talk to a therapist now. I’d have to find my own and pay for it and I don’t have the means to do that, nor could I even go to my sessions all on my own, and I can’t let our mother figure out what I’m up to, or she’s going to question us again. I don’t want to be the person going to others just to vent and talk about how shitty our life is.

Hell, it’s not even that bad. We’re just pathetic.

That’s all I can think of right now.

…

Goodbye, from the untrustworthy monster.

[softer-ua]

heyo, i wanted to suggest two songs for the bnha song ask: wild blue yonder by the amazing devil and Achilles Come Down by gang of youths

Oooh! I really like these songs

Wild Blue Yonder by The Amazing Devil: Dabi, and Deku

They had so much hope and passion for the future

Both are so willing to destroy themselves for the people they admire and for their goals(“for you I’d go blonder” how could I not think of Dabi?)

They let their dreams tear them apart and tear their dreams apart in return, desperate passion fucking them over

Dabis dream of having his dad acknowledge him; once a comfort to drive him through training, then it got warped into desperation, then cruelty. He was destroyed by that dream and destroyed it in return

Deku dreams of being a hero that makes people feel at ease with his smile, but every fight he gets in scares the people who care about him more than the last, and it seems to me he’s growing more closed off from them. Right before OverHaul Iida expressly says that he wants to be there for him too, and we basically didn’t see him again until the war arch. Right after OverHaul Kacchan asks if he’s improving, he lied and said no. Right after fighting Gentle Deku lies to All Might saying he left his phone behind

They keep wandering between encores and getting torn up in the process while being told to stop like it’s their fault they got driven to these desperate measures

And I think they hide behind their goals to not face what hurts/scares them, it’s easier to be bruised and get torn up in the pursuit of their goals than it’d be to face the unknown wounds they’ve refused to acknowledge but it’s ruining them

They’ve both been using the stones thrown at him to get a clearer picture of their future, just very different futures. At the same time they’re both kinda blinded by their goals.

There are so many different paths that could have been if any variables had changed, and so many different ways things could still go that sit waiting for them and they’re still trying their best to control those maybes.

They’ve found some people who care about them but they’ll be using the light they found to burn their opponents down. Dabi just straight up using people to literally burn the world down, and Deku using people caring about him as an excuse to keep pushing past the point of breaking x6

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youth: Deku vs Katsuki All Might and Inko

Sometimes I wonder how much of Deku really came down off that roof?

Like Katsuki told him to jump of a roof, then maybe an hour later AM tells him to give up on his dreams on a roof.

When we see Deku next he’s in kind of a dazed state and it takes him a second to even realize he’s stopped to watch a villain fight, realizing what villain it is he blames himself, then he’s basically on an adrenaline high and then withdrawal up till AM tells him he’ll give him the ability to be a hero, probably afterwards too tbh(did he practice any self care afte this hectic day? Doubt it.)

Deku spends a good chunk of the series not trying to be a hero himself but another AM, and breaking himself without question in the pursuit of that. It’s terrifying for Inko, AM, and Katsuki to see, even though they’ve all had a hand in making him desperate enough think that this is the only way he can be a hero

People die for having no reason to live and for having such a strong reason to live it’s worth dying for(a shortened translation), and Deku basically went through this 180 in like 2ish hours.

You have no quirk and no chance to be a hero, live in a bleak reality with a dead dream or jump and hope for better luck next time

Oop nvrm I’m gonna give you a sacred secret generational quirk so you can honor and fulfill the role of a true hero

Deku isn’t alone in this world, none of use are, we’re all weighed down to those we’ve held influence on. And he’s had no influence on anyone as deeply as Katsuki, they made plans as kids to be heros together. If Deku is gonna be recklessly self sacrificing than so is Katsuki.

The blind faith the world put in AM is wrong, but the hope he’s inspired is not. AM knows what it’s like to feel the weight of every cry for help on his shoulders. AM has in general been a gd awful mentor but being a guiding hand in breaching the gap between Deku and Kacchan may be the smartest and most life saving thing he’s done for Dekus future yet.

Deku doesn’t have to learn to bare that burden alone instead he can use it as a motive to engage and trust others to help win and save. Which could have a healing ripple effect, maybe if heros weren’t trying to do everything on their own but instead trusted teammates society wouldn’t look at these things a solo events.

Despite how much support he’s receiving now we’ve heard him repeat echos of the things he’s heard before, the double edged sword of having Deku as his hero name I suppose. He keeps striving to get better but the second someone acknowledges it he gives the credit away

Suicide is never anyone’s fault but we should be careful with how we speak to each other. (Short translation)

I don’t believe Deku was ever truly a suicide risk but those around him most certainly should have considered their words and behaviors more carefully.

It’s Deku thinking about Katsuki stupidly suicide baiting him that reminds him of how his mom reacted to him being quirkless, which does lead to him remembering he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks or says.

But that could have very easily been an entirely different train of thought

Deku chose again and again his whole childhood to listen to his own convictions, and perhaps that’s why he’s so much better at listening for OFA he’s already used to listen to the bell that rings inside of him even when it leads to him getting hurt

The things AM, Inko, and Katsuki have all said and done in the past are what they have to contend with now if they want to keep Deku from jumping off that roof and sacrificing himself for the hope of a better next time.

People say they’re okay but maybe they’re not(short rough translation)

Deku keeps saying he’ll do better, that he’ll surpass, that he’s trying to not get hurt, he won’t give cause to worry anyone anymore

Deku keeps flinging those promises out the gd window

Win to save, LIVE to save

Perhaps Dekus most important lesson is to learn to withdraw from a fight, it’d be dangerous but he could then heal and rise again and overcome.

Perhaps if AM had enough love in him to do that he wouldn’t be missing half his freaking insides.

He’d have to be braver than AM, braver than Kacchan. Brave enough to lose so he can win and save another day.

An overture bold and beyond

[aetheternity]

can you do watching eren while he masturbates??

Just thinking about asking Eren to masturbate while you watch

A/n: I'm officially back people. What's funny about this request is that I was already working on Eren's version way before I was asked. And before anyone else asks I'm doing Connie and Levi with this same prompt as well. Ya know eventually..

If there was one thing you knew about your boyfriend Eren it was that he'd be more accepting of any of your many requests after taking a shower. Your mind currently swarmed with endless thoughts of water cresting over his chest. You laid your head back against the wall allowing the mental images more space to flood in as you shut your eyes. The sight of little beads forming at the tips of his long brown hair and dripping down the expanse of his back clear as day. With slightly more explicit thoughts flowing in like a river. Standing in front of the bathroom door. The water had stopped forever ago but you couldn't move. The click of your nails the only audible noise around you in the dimly lit hall. Eventually you pushed aside the gnawing in the pits of your stomach, one hand on the doorknob while the other slowly inched the door away from the frame.

Eren's smile dawned on you the moment you stepped into the room. A little chuckle falling from his lips. One of his hands fully knuckle deep in his hair. Smoothing back the wet strands and combing the water droplets out until they plopped down onto the second bath mat in front of the sink. The other worked a brush over the other side of his head just as soon reaching for the small black hair tie at the edge of the sink. Eren's bare chest was rested comfortably against the smooth, probably cold porcelain. Not a care in his world that he was barely dry. The array of water droplets decorating his skin trailing down the expanse of his body to soak the loose towel around his waist. So close to slipping away.. "You're letting the cold air in." "Huh?.." You glanced up, Eren pointed behind you and you nearly leapt out of your skin. "Oh!" You pushed your back against the wood till a little click sounded behind you. "Did you wanna join me in the shower? If I would've known I wouldn't have dried off." He placed the brush on the sink top. His hair now pulled into a tight bun as he turned to you with his arms outstretched. "Dried off where?" You huff as you accept his warm embrace. "You're wetter now than when you got in." You can feel the snort from his body against your own. The base of his chin pressed into your scalp and then the much sweeter, softness of his lips on your forehead. Water seeping into the thin cloth of your sleep shirt.

"So, what did you actually come in here for? You know besides to be a pervert?" He winces when your fist comes in contact with his shoulder. "I've seen it all before!" You reach up the dips of his shoulders hugging his back closer if possible. His lips trekking up your pulse and you hum with the feeling. "Can I.. ask you for one thing baby?" It takes a lot of strength in you not to claw his back when he readjusts and the faint outline of his cock brushes up against your pelvic bone. But you let it slip your mind when you hear a faint, "Hmm?" "Will you.. maybe.. masturbate for me?" He pauses and the warm air in the room suddenly fills your brain all at once. Leaving you feeling mildly faint. It's not like you didn't ask him for sexual things but you'd never asked him for that. Not even when you two were still in the sexting phase. He slipped his face out of the junction of your neck and shoulder. His forehead rough but still somewhat gentle. The scent of his shampoo overwhelmed the rest of your senses. And the slight tonal change in the sounds of his breaths had your heart beating a mile a minute. "That's what's got you all flustered?" He leans into your ear and you clutch his shoulders like a lifeline. "If I can finish on your face then sure." He pulls back with a devious grin stretching across his face. "You'll let me cum on your face right?" The tip of his thumb curves over your chin as you nod. Any form of hesitation leaves his body with that nod of affirmation. Without a second thought he pulls you along with him to the toilet, yanking the towel off his body to place it over the closed lid. Next is your knees coming down awkwardly on the cold tiled floor. The scraping against your skin instantly uncomfortable but you don't let it show on your face. He leans back against the tank behind him. The glint in his sapphire irises focused solely on you. He'd already grown a little hard at the question you'd proposed, his hand soon finding the base of his cock. With one leisurely long stroke he'd already had you wrapped around his finger. Reading the need in your eyes that you wanted to hide. Watching the pleading look you were giving the tip of his cock. And it made him chuckle. Mockingly. "Sure you don't want to suck me off instead? You look so eager.." You shake your head forcing yourself to make eye contact with his actual face. "I wanna.. watch you get off.." It's said so breathily voice full of your own desire. In natural Eren fashion he spreads his legs out a little wider. Giving you a full display for your watchful eyes. With painfully slow strokes he manages to carefully bring himself to full hardness. But this is a show. And he's going to work as slow as he can. Build that climax up so aggravatingly slow because he wants you to not only enjoy this but suffer a little too. The smallest bead of precum is quickly swiped away by his thumb. And a weak noise of content fills your ears. Just low enough that you could've created created sound in your head. So small you genuinely believe you imagined it. Your eyes flick up to a softer version of his deep green eyes. His brow mildly furrowed as he continued to make eye contact with you. It didn't matter how many times you saw him hard, coaxing himself up to an orgasm. It made your stomach fill with butterflies and your heart race. "Eren.." You lean forward a little, mesmerized by the clench of his stomach. You want to reach out and run your fingers over the tightness of his abs. Possibly stick your fingers in the tightening muscles to feel them clench against your finger. His pace stayed relatively the same stroking nerve rackingly slow. "What?" He sighs voice breaking a bit. "Too slow for you? Want me to speed up?" "Please.." He grips his tip a little tighter at your own breaking voice. Deeper much heavy breaths filling the atmosphere around the two of you like a thick cloud in this small windowless room. "You want it like this baby?" He angles his tip lower allowing you to see the weeping beads of precum slowly becoming more prominent at the top.

"This better?" "Yeah." "Yeah?" He grunts His eyelashes flutter close and your eyes follow the tip of his tongue where it curves over his bottom lip. Soon opening for a ragged breath and a groan from the depths of his chest. "You enjoying this?" "Mmhm.." Slits of his green eyes peer down at you. His lips just as soon curving to show off that same devious smile. He can't stop himself at this point. A whine tumbling through his tightly shut lips. "Filthy girl.. shit.." His hand disobeyed his original need to drag this out. The fleeting chase for pleasure beginning. The thick palms of his fingers sliding effortlessly towards the base of his cock flicking his wrist up just a little bit faster. The mention of your name in between his groans had you reaching for the floor in front of you, the legs of your sleep shorts or anything to steady yourself. Your heart fully prepared to jump from your chest. His head lulled back against the wall behind him, shoulders slumping. His chest caves as more groans slip out unabashedly. His laboring breaths making your face hotter than it already was if that was even possible. "Mmm want me to paint that pretty face?" He pants. "Yes.. Yes please.." You nearly whimper. "Fuck.. c'mere.. c'mere." Without a second thought you opened your mouth, your own breathing heavy as the first rope of cum splattered over your cheek and nose. Eren's deep sigh leaving you practically weightless. The rest of his cum landing in the same general area with only a couple drops actually making it into your mouth. "Here, c'mere." He cooed His thumb swiped over the bridge of your nose, above your eye and cheek directing the last of his cum into your mouth which you happily licked up. Without missing a beat he pulled both you and himself up, exiting the bathroom and heading down the hall to your shared bedroom. "Since I did something for you now you're gonna do something for me." He explained

[llamagoddessofficial]

Okay so I live (all things said and done) not far from the arctic circle, and long story short got to thinking about the various snow/ice safety things that are drilled into you up here and what to be wary of- like Snow Blindness 👀 what if MC,all alone, ended up out in the icy fields, her goggles broken/etc from a fall, and she ends up with it? In pain, blinded, she can’t tell what is where and Sans sees all of this unfolding, the growing panic, her probably eventually going still as she realizes trying to fumble around would make her more lost…. Would he lead her to safety, perhaps tapping on the ice in front of her to lead her way back to her warm tent, or would he take advantage and perhaps bring her to safety in some sort of icy cave only he has access to, to “nurse” her while her eyes recover~?

“stop.”

The voice was so distinct that if you’d heard it before, you would’ve recognised it immediately. You didn’t. The soft, dark, sonorous tone didn’t belong to anyone on the research team- it didn’t belong to anyone you’d spoken to before.

But you knew who it was.

Your eyes hurt. They hurt so much, the aching worming back into your head and spreading through in a headache that felt like it was going to split your skull in half. You had snow blindness- your goggles had broken hours ago, and your attempts at keeping your eyes shielded had done nothing to aid your worsening condition. You couldn’t see anymore, eyes squeezed shut in your last attempt at defending them from the glare... a gritty sensation under your eyelids was making irritated tears drip down your cheeks no matter how many times you tried to wipe them away. The sun was setting, you didn’t know where you were, you couldn’t see... at this point, the fear of freezing to death in the arctic was nagging at the back of your head.

You didn’t know where you were. 

... 

You’d obeyed the voice instinctively, stopping dead. Yes... despite not recognising it, you knew exactly who it was. 

That was what frightened you.

“Wh-what do you want?” You blurted, heart beginning to pound even faster than before.

How was he there? How far had you moved? You weren’t wearing your ear protection... stumbling home blind and deaf just wasn’t an option. Part of you wanted to force your eyes open to see him, to see the giant orca siren who had been stalking you in both the waking world and your nightmares. But at this point it wasn’t possible anymore- your eyes were so painful, trying to open them felt like trying to drag your hands over broken glass.

So you had to just stand there, blinded. Even more vulnerable than before.

“just listen to me.�� Despite the musicality and silkiness to his deep voice there was an underlying urgency that couldn’t be faked. It was coming from just a distance ahead of you... only a few paces, if your hearing was correct. “you’ve walked onto thin sea ice.”

“... H-huh?” 

“there’s cracks everywhere. all around you. if you go forward anymore you’ll fall through and drown.”

... Your heart very nearly stopped. You thought the swaying you’d felt through your feet had just been from the confusion and splitting headache- not from walking so far out you’d managed to make your way onto the treacherous thin ice that’d give way under you any second.

“i’m going to lead you back to safety, okay? just follow the sound of my clicks.”

...

... You didn't really have the grounds to question him. I mean... what were your options? You'd blindly wandered onto deadly and fragile ice, an inky and icy death waiting just a few inches of frozen water below you. You desperately needed help, there was no way you were getting away safely on your own... if you take his help there's a chance he's lying, so you die, but if you reject him...

... You die either way. Might as well take the route with a sliver of hope. Maybe he’s... had a sudden change of heart? Randomly decided not to eat you?

Besides... You thought, shuddering. There's gotta be a little truth to it. Why would he try to trick me if I’m that close to gaps in the ice? Why bother leading me if I’m within range?

... You just... tried not to think about the fact that orca siren were well known for toying with prey for hours.

You heard his clicking, easily penetrating through the ice just ahead of you. That familiar echolocative sound... tapping like water droplets hitting a stone floor interspersed between louder clicks that you felt in your feet.

... You took a shaking deep breath, wiped away more tears... and started stumbling after the monster’s beckon.

He was right about there being cracks everywhere. The ground continually rocked beneath you; as he led you across the ice, you occasionally heard him surface, breath and rippling water... then the clicks would begin again somewhere else- further ahead or a little to the left or right. All around you there were places for him to come up for air... holes that you could’ve staggered straight into.

He led you across the shaking and unstable ice, weaving your stumbling blind form out of a maze of cracks and imminent danger. He could probably sense, with his echolocation, what sections of ice were thick enough for you to safely walk across.

Eventually, the ground evened out, and stopped rocking back and forth when you trod on it. His breaks for air became fewer, and further between... it must’ve been safer territory now...

...

... You turned your face.

... You didn’t have to see the setting sun to be able to see it. Everything under your eyelids got brighter when you turned toward it, you felt a modicum of warmth on your cheeks and still-burning eyelids.

So...

...

“W-we’re... going the wrong way.”

... You heard him pause, his clicking stopping short as he surfaced a short distance away. You couldn’t tell if he’d turned to face you or not, you desperately wanted to see.

“The... the st-station is... east, from the m-melting ice. We’re... g-going south right now...?”

...

His voice changed. You could hear the smile- in your minds eye you could see the dark grin spread across his face.

“i said i’d take you to safety. didn’t i?”

... 

You clapped your gloved hands over your ears and, just like you’d been trained to do, began shouting out the lyrics to the first song that came to mind as loud as you possibly could. Just underneath the words you were yelling you could hear something beginning to resonate... something sweet and beautiful, soothing and otherworldly and terrifying, but you couldn’t linger on it, not even for a second, you couldn’t think about it at all because as soon as you concentrated on the sirensong instead of your song you wouldn’t be able to pull yourself back again. As soon as you thought about him instead of the stupid lyrics, instead of the burning in your eyes and head, instead of the hoarseness in your throat, it’d all be over.

...

A gunshot.

The bullet landed in the water only a few feet away from where Sans was floating, sending up spray that dotted the ice around it. It caught you and the siren off guard- both of you stopped, your panicked yelling broke and the beautiful melody cut short jarringly like an entire orchestra freezing mid performance.

You took your hands away from your ears just in time to hear Sans mutter “stupid researchers...” before the unmistakable splash of him diving back under the surface again; under the ice, back into the depths.

For a second, you literally couldn’t help it- you forced your eyes open the barest fraction, the glare immediately shooting pain through your skull. And... it was Hit, in his signature black and red coat, the sunset-coloured world behind him completely fuzzy. Boots crunching on the ice as he moved toward you, rifle raised and pointed at the water; goggles pulled up to his forehead... 

Even as you shut your eyes again, just a second already too long, his expression was burned into your mind. Glaring at where Sans had been with a look you could only describe as... furious.

And possessive.

You heard him swear softly, anger dropping away- you heard him hastily put his rifle over his shoulder, rushing over to you and dropping heavily to his knees, saying your name like he was nervous you weren’t going to answer. You felt coarse gloves against your icy face, turning it up to him, warm breath on your painful face... you never thought you’d feel so much relief at the touch of somebody you’d never trusted before, but you let out a tiny shuddering exhausted sob and leant into him until your forehead touched his chest.

“hey. hey, it’s okay.” His voice was gentle, but still clearly panting- how far had he gone to look for you? “it’s okay, i gotcha.”

When he hoisted you into his solid arms, you just leant against him completely... tucking into the hold as much as you could. You were emotionally and physically spent and all you wanted to do was sink into his jacket and sleep.

"... c’mon, doll. let’s get you home.”

[the-bau-quinjet]

hiii! i don’t know if you have done this but can you do a hotch x reader where they get kidnapped by tobias instead of reid? xx

4 Months

Warning: Criminal Minds level violence, drugs, torture, rabid dogs

Word Count: 3562

a/n: I decided to switch up some of the specifics, just to make it a bit more fun to read. I hope you like it :) Also, we're pretending Rossi was there bc he is really the father of the group and it fit better than having Gideon 🤷‍♀️

Masterlist

"JJ, we have to split up." You barely looked back at her, missing the nervous expression on her face as you ran toward the cornfield. "I'll take the field, you take the barn."

You slowed to a brisk walk as you neared the cornfield, raising your gun in front of you. You couldn't help but think about how pissed Hotch would be if he knew what you were doing.

You shook off the thought, knowing he would do the same if the roles were reversed.

Spotting movement, you moved farther into the corn, trying to spot any signs indicating which way Tobias went. A bent corn husk was the last thing you saw before the world went black.

-

"He's not a witness. He's the unsub." Hotch's eyes went wide as he realized you and JJ were there without backup. "Call JJ, now." He instructed Morgan, taking out his own phone to call you.

Hotch's eyes met Morgan's as both calls went unanswered. No words were exchanged as everyone ran out to the SUVS, putting on bulletproof vests as they went.

Hotch was nervously tapping the steering wheel the entire drive to Hankel's house. He couldn't stop replaying your last conversation.

"Y/N, you and JJ go talk to Hankel. Find out if he saw anything." Despite his stern expression, you could tell his eyes were smiling at you.

"Sure thing." You nodded, mouthing 'I love you' before turning to JJ.

That's it. He didn't even have the chance to mouth it back. JJ would've seen, and even though the team has theories about your relationship, you haven't confirmed anything yet.

He pulled into the driveway, running up to the house, gun out before anyone could stop him.

Prentiss followed Hotch, Morgan and Reid took the left, Rossi and a local cop took the right.

They tore through the house, clearing it with fierce determination, but came up empty.

"It's clear." Rossi called, joining Hotch and Prentiss in the living room. "Where are Morgan and Reid?"

Hotch spared a glance out the window, discovering the barn likely being cleared by the missing agents.

Everyone ran out of the house, arriving outside the barn just as Morgan and Reid lead a distressed JJ outside.

"What happened?" Hotch questioned, glancing over JJ's shoulder into the barn. Clearly you weren't there, but he needed to hope.

"We split up. Y/N went into the cornfield... I had- I had to shoot them." Her voice was detached, eyes glazed over.

"The dogs." Morgan clarified, leading JJ to a paramedic.

"Dammit. The house is clear. No sign of Y/N or Hankel." Hotch ran a hand through his hair, trying to clear his mind. The worry was nearly overpowering, but it wouldn't help find you.

The sheriff approached, removing his hat. "A deputy two towns over gave directions to a man matching Hankel's description. He's headed for a hunting lodge."

Morgan nodded to Prentiss. "We'll check it out."

-

Your head was pounding. A vile scent reached your nose, causing your eyes to flicker open. You flinched at the closeness of the man in front of you.

"Tobias..." The name slipped out in a whisper.

"They're not here. It's just me now." He stated, calmer than you would've expected.

"Who are you?" You asked, trying to portray a fake sense of calm.

"I'm Rafael." He pulled out a revolver, adding a single bullet to the six chambers.

"No. You don't have to do this." Your heart ached, fear gripping your body as he aimed the gun at you.

"It is my duty to enact God's will." He said, right before pulling the trigger.

-

Hotch pulled back into the driveway, leading Garcia into the house.

"His computer setup is in there. If there's even a hint of where they might've gone, I need you to find it." Hotch gestured to the back room.

Penelope nodded. Carrying her own computer bags, she followed Derek into the depths of the house.

"What've we got?" Hotch questioned those remaining around the table.

"He knew he could throw us off, pretend to be looking for a hunting lodge." Emily spoke quickly.

"We've got piles of information, journals, notebooks. We're still sifting through it all." JJ added, shirt still bloody from yesterday.

Just then, Reid rushed in from another room. "The walls in the bedroom, they are covered in the latin phrase 'honora patrem tuum', honor thy father."

"Garcia, look for anything you can find about his father." Hotch gave out orders, but his focus was elsewhere. What was happening to you?

"Over here!" Morgan called from outside.

The team ran around the house to see Morgan opening a cellar door. Nodding slightly, Hotch and Morgan made there way inside.

"Tobias Hankel, FBI." Morgan shouted, receiving no answer.

They quickly found the dead body of none other than Hankel's father. Even the new information did little to calm the worry brewing inside of Hotch.

-

"Confess your sins." He ordered.

"My sins? I don't have any sins." You did your best to hold back the tears, trying to figure out who you were talking to.

"Everyone has sins. Confess, and you will be forgiven." He stared you down, waiting for a response.

You simply shook your head, mouth slightly agape. The smell was getting to you. You couldn't think straight with the pain in your head.

"I- I don't know what-"

"YES YOU DO. CONFESS." He hit you, whipping your head to the left.

-

"Hotch, he took drugs to escape. Dilaudid cut with a psychedelic." Emily relayed the information her and JJ got from Tobias's sponsor.

"We've got something too. The dates in his journals don't add up. He was talking about his father as if he was alive months after he killed him."

"His father beat him, preached about sin." Emily replied, putting the pieces together alongside Hotch.

"Split personality. Profile the father. He could be the key to finding Y/N." Even just saying your name he felt his heart clench.

-

"Who are you?" You questioned him as soon as he walked through the door, trying to figure out who you were dealing with this time.

"Tobias." He moved about the cabin almost nervously.

"Who was here before?" You knew Rafael, but the other personality was a mystery.

"My father." Definitely the most violent. He was who you had to look out for. "I'm sorry if he hurt you."

Tobias looked over you newly forming bruises before pulling off his belt.

"No. No what are you doing?" You felt your heart rate increase as he wrapped the belt around your arm. You could barely register the words he was saying, something about escaping from the pain.

"Please. I don't want it. I'm fine." You begged, tears brimming your eyes. He ignored your pleas, injecting the drug into your bloodstream.

Despite how much you hated it, you felt the relief he was talking about. The pain was gone, even if just briefly. You thought about your time spent with Hotch. It didn't feel like long enough. You wanted more. You had so much you wanted to do with him.

"Aaron..." You mumbled his name between kisses. "They could see us." You did little to stop him, despite your words.

"We should tell them." He whispered against your mouth, holding you close. "They would be happy for us."

You sighed blissfully, forehead pressed against his. "Really? You know they've got a pool going to see when we'd finally get together. Who do you think had money on 4 months ago?" You laughed into his neck, pulling him closer.

"My bet's on Rossi. He knows us both too well." Aaron smiled, a full genuine smile.

"You're probably right, but just to make it interesting, I'm betting Reid. He's too observant not to have noticed." You squinted at the window, knowing Reid was staring at the closed blinds on the other side.

That earned a laugh, one you could feel in his chest pressed tightly to your own.

"I love you." He kissed your head, content to hold you for a little while longer.

"I love you too." You leaned ever farther into him. "We can tell them when we get back from this next case."

"Deal."

-

"Get in here!" Reid called from the computer room, pointing to a screen where you were being broadcast. You were handcuffed and tied to a chair, clearly beaten.

"Pick one to die." The voice of Tobias could be heard, despite him not being visible on the screen.

You shook your head, staring into the camera. You wanted to plead for Hotch to save you, but you knew it wouldn't be fair. He didn't need that on his conscience.

"Choose one, and I will free another."

You shook your head again, trying to think of a clue you could give the team. "I won't let you hunt them like a poacher."

"Now. Or I will kill them all." He threatened, lifting you from the ground.

"I'll pick who lives." You stuttered, breaths coming fast and short. "The right screen."

You were forced to watch as he turned off the camera, leaving the screens to show the heinous murders he was about to commit.

Suddenly, Rossi was talking to you through the screen. The sight of him nearly brought you to tears.

"Y/N. This isn't your fault. None of it. You can't blame yourself. We will find you, but I need you to be there when we do."

You knew exactly what he meant. You were already blaming yourself, despite Rossi's father like relationship with you, it was hard to believe him.

It did give you the strength to remember the team though. You needed to see them, all of them, again.

-

"He's back!" Morgan called everyone in to view the screens again.

"Confess your sins." They watched as he beat you.

You cried. You begged him to stop. You begged Tobias for help, but nothing worked.

Hotch felt his heart break even more with every word.

Suddenly, you were on the ground, still tied to the chair. You were seizing, Charles Hankel watching as it happened.

The screen went dark, causing Hotch to punch the desk.

"Dammit." He shouted. He didn't care if his worry was beginning to poke through the surface. He needed to find you and he needed to do it now.

"The timestamp." Emily's voice drew him out of his head. "There's only a few minutes between the time of death and when it was posted. He's got to be close to the crime scene."

Finally. Something that felt like progress.

-

They watched the screen as you appeared again.

"Choose one to die." It was Rafael this time.

"I can't. I can't do it." Your face betrayed every emotion you were feeling inside.

"Pick one." He stated again.

"Me. Kill me." You nearly begged.

"You said you weren't one of them. Your team has 7 other members. Choose one of them to die."

You shook your head, fear gripping you once again as he pulled out the revolver.

"Choose." He connected the gone to your forehead, resting it there.

"No." He pulled the trigger, watching as you flinched.

"Choose." You shook your head, tensing as he pulled the trigger again.

Hotch felt his heart in his stomach, internally begging you to just say a name. He couldn't watch you die, not like this.

"Choose." He pulled the trigger yet again at your silence.

"I won't do it." You held firm, knowing you had limited chances.

"Choose one to die."

You opened your mouth, panting as an idea came to you.

"I choose... Aaron Hotchner." Your heart ached even saying it, but you needed to give him a clue. "He's a classic narcissist. Thinks he's better than everyone. He'd go to his grave knowing he was wrong." You winced internally, trying not to give away your plan.

Hotch left the room, trying to understand your words. The two of you had just argued about the definition of classic narcissism.

"I think you're wrong." You laughed at his amused expression.

"Yeah? Or do you just like making me exasperated?" He questioned your motives, pulling you closer as you laid in bed together.

"Maybe a little bit of both." You shrugged, leaning up to kiss him. "Promise me something?" You asked, a nervous expression on your face.

"What?" He looked at you with so much concern, you felt your heart beat a little faster.

"If... If I die, you can't blame yourself." He opened his mouth to protest, but you kept going. "I know you Aaron. You'd take it to grave thinking it was your fault. I can't let you do that. Not when I know you blame yourself for Haley's death." You felt your heart break for him and the pain he had been through. "Promise me." You were nearly begging.

"I promise." He whispered, his throat tight at the idea of losing you.

He was brought back to the present by the sound of Rossi's voice.

"Hotch, you know Y/N didn't mean any of that." Rossi tried gently, unsure of how Hotch was coping with your situation.

"I'm not a narcissist. What's my worst quality?" He looked at the apprehensive looks everyone was giving him. "I'll start, I have no sense of humor."

He nodded along as his team listed his faults.

"None of you said I ever put myself above the team, because I don't. Y/N and I just argued about the definition of classic narcissism." He paced, trying to put it together. "I'd take it to my grave... Grave was a hint."

"What? How do you know?" Reid shook his head, trying to understand the logic.

"I made a promise. It's a long story." He shook his head, trying to clear the memory so he could focus. "Y/N knew I would remember it."

"A cemetary. It's got to be a cemetary." Morgan added.

"No cemeteries on the map." Garcia was typing away on the computer.

"Like a poacher." Reid whispered, staring at the screen.

"Reid?" Hotch looked at him, eyes pleading for an answer.

"That's what Y/N said in the first video. 'I won't let you hunt them like a poacher.'" He said it louder, more excited than before.

"Garcia, any reports of poaching in the area?" Hotch asked, the idea of finding you causing hope to erupt in his chest.

"Yes, at Marshall Parrish... and there's a cemetery on the grounds." She gave them the address, watching as they ran out to the SUVs.

-

"I'm sorry." Tobias said it so softly, you were almost certain you didn't hear it at all.

"Wh- why?" Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion, trying to make sense of it.

"He'll win. In the end, he always does." He rose from the crouched position, slowly injecting you with more drugs.

"Hotch!" You screamed, feeling arms restraining you from behind.

You watched as he went into the hostage situation, unarmed and without a vest.

"Derek. Let me go!" You struggled in his grasp, straining to get free.

"There's nothing you can do, he's already inside." He stated the truth, although it did little to calm your nerves.

You settled down, throat tight with worry. You bit your lip, eyes flitting between the door and windows. You just needed a sign, anything to say he was alright.

The sound of a gun firing stunned you. You were frozen in place, fear consuming you. You had just told him you loved him for the first time this morning. What if you never get to say it again? What if that's all the time you got.

You stared in horror as everyone ran toward the house, only to freeze when a voice shouted everything was fine.

"It's fine." He huffed, carrying the small child out of the house toward a waiting EMT. "Baxter is dead."

"Aaron..." You whispered the name, realizing how powerless you felt when he was in danger. The two of you made eye contact across the yard, a reassuring look in his eye.

"Aaron..." You whispered, blinking rapidly as you slowly came to.

"What about Aaron." Charles. Tobias's dad was back.

"I couldn't stop him. I couldn't keep him safe." You muttered to yourself, not fully understanding the situation.

"Is that a confession?" He asked, voice hard.

"Yes." It was more of a breath of air than a word, but it was all he needed to condemn you.

He unlocked your handcuffs, forcing a shovel into your newly freed arms before dragging you outside.

"Dig." he instructed plainly, watching over you as stray tears wet the ground beneath you.

-

"Clear." Morgan called from one side of the shed.

"Clear" Hotch replied from the other. With the whole team in the small space, it wasn't exactly necessary but it was habit.

Hotch could feel his nerves picking up again as he realized this meant you were still with Tobias. He paced back and forth, feeling powerless.

"Spread out. They have to be on foot." He left without waiting for a response, turning left with JJ to look for you.

-

You did your best to stall, but Charles wasn't the most patient.

"Dig faster."

"I'm trying. I'm trying." You whimpered, movements speeding up ever so slightly. The massive knife in his hands causing your own to shake.

"You're weak. Move." He huffed, throwing his jacket to the ground before ripping the shovel from your hands.

A flash of light in the trees caught your eye. Flashlights. Your team. Aaron.

Your eyes flickered between the man in front of you and the trees, causing him to turn.

You took the split second he wasn't looking to grab the gun from his jacket, swiftly aiming it as he turned back to you knife raised.

"Only one bullet in that gun." He lunged for you, falling backwards after you pulled the trigger.

You dropped the gun, quickly tossing the knife away.

"Tobias?" You cried, moving back toward him.

"You killed me." He seemed surprised, but grateful at the same time.

You felt the tears pouring down your face as you apologized.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." You grabbed his hand, watching the light fade from his eyes as he asked one final question.

"You think I'll get to see my mom again?"

You barely registered the arms around you, pulling you to your feet. You couldn't take your eyes off of Tobias. He wasn't the one who hurt you. He helped you, or at least tried.

"I killed him." Your breathing picked up, vision blurring.

"Y/N, look at me." You turned to the voice, blinking rapidly to stop the tears.

"Aaron?" You took a stuttering breath, trying to make sure this was real.

"I'm here. It's okay. You're okay. You're safe now." His words were just as reassuring to himself as they were to you. You caught JJ's eye over Hotch's shoulder, quickly moving to hug her.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I never should've-" You cut her off.

"None of this was your fault. It was my idea to split up. I'm so sorry." You cried into her shoulder, knowing how guilty she must've felt.

She hugged you back, tears brimming her own eyes at seeing you alive again.

She lead you to the EMT, not commenting on the look you threw over your shoulder at Aaron. He quickly followed you to the ambulance. JJ left you to talk to Hotch, who stayed beside you the entire time the medics looked you over.

"I didn't mean it." You said when you were finally alone, sitting between the open doors of the ambulance.

"What?" Aaron questioned, his mind not following your own train of thought.

"When... When I had to choose. I didn't mean any of it." You could feel the tears coming, but this time you did nothing to hold them back.

"I know. I knew the whole time." You brushed your tears away, looking you in the eye. "I love you so much." He whispered, his own eyes feeling watery.

"I love you too." You leaned into him, relishing in the feeling of his arm around you. You couldn't help but look over at the team, all of whom quickly pretended not to be watching. You huffed a laugh.

"Yeah, I think they're going to have some questions." Hotch smiled, glad to see you happy even if just for a second.

"After this case, right?" You looked back at him, confirming you still wanted to share your relationship with the team.

"Deal." He smiled, arm tightening around your shoulders to pull you closer.

-

You couldn't help but bring it up on the jet ride home.

"So, who had money on four months ago?" You questioned, tucked into Aaron's side on the couch.

"What?" Emily raised a brow at your sudden statement.

"That's when we started dating." You grinned at her shocked expression.

"Dammit Reid." Morgan huffed, handing over the money.

"Don't forget Rossi!" Reid high fived the older man, the two grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Looks like we were both right." Hotch smiled into your hair, trying to hide his laugh.

"Yeah. We make a pretty good team." You smiled, leaning into his touch.

"I love you." He murmured, face still in your hair. You turned your face into his chest before responding.

"I love you too."

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @madewithsebstan

[kainscape]

Really enjoyed the Morning fic you made for Bo! If possible, can I please request one just like this for Asa or Jesse? I just could use all the possible fluff right now~ Thank you!!

A/n: I can’t tell if this one is as good as the morning fic because I kinda just had a random idea in the middle of writing it, but I really like writing for Asa so here you go!

Death do you part ~ Asa Emory

Happiness wasn’t in Asas vocabulary or main emotions. It was drained from him at such an incomprehensible age he never mentioned it to himself. No whispers of joy or happy warmth, just exultation or sinister excitement. Asa wasn’t one to ponder or to think about what lies ahead in the future besides his traps and plans of new specimen to find.

Just like how he didn’t think anything of you when you were still asleep in your shared bed he never came too. Of course it was to be expected hence his return being quite early in the morning. He would’ve guessed around 7:30 to 8:00. The university needed to be stayed at, him finalizing the place to sleep at from his exhaustion. It was the best choice not to drive home in his state, and it made it easier to more access of his work.

You must’ve guessed he wouldn’t be returning home again, which seemed to be more common in the latest month. It annoyed you to no ends, but when it came to Asa and his work force, there was almost no convincing him to take a break. So you settled on heading bed early to meet him at dawn.

The professer walked through the front door, his case full of papers to grade and fix filling it whole in his hand. He kicked the door shut behind him, hearing it settle back in place as he laid down his keys on the end table. It was quiet except the air flow of the AC from the vents.

He travelled over to kitchen table, laying down the case on its side as he slid off his jacket. The temperature from inside to outside was perfect, it was cold and gave him freeway to wear layers in his house while it was humid and unforgiven on the outside.

He signed, a hand running down his face as he tried to rub away the tired feeling that buried within him. It was something he would never try to fix, like he could even attempt to do so. He made his way to the stair case, trudging up each step with a small hold on the railing.

Asa walked down the hall with a small click of his shoes. There wasn’t many creaks in the floor besides the two by the guest room and bathroom, so he wasn’t concerned about waking you.

Even if he did make a loud sound, it seemed there would be no one to wake from the empty bed that laid within the room. He kept his weak grip on the door handle, eyebrows furrowed as he looked around the room. It was dark besides the slight shine from the curtains, and the door to the bathroom was wide open and collecting darkness. Where the hell were you?

His hand slipped from the metal knob, his steps slow as he fully entered the room. He couldn’t have missed you on the second floor, you could be quiet at times but not that quiet. He analyzed your personal items, taking count to see if there were any gone. You were the only person to ever gain Asas full trust, he thought you realized the great importance of just that as he formed conclusions.

He didn’t even want to move from the room, his mind blank as the scenery before him was bare. Maybe he did miss your presence on the first floor, the realization that he was so tired coming into mind. With first ever hesitance, he headed for the stairs, slowly making his way to the living room and kitchen. It’s like he was almost begging you to be down there, wanting you to be curled up on the couch almost half asleep or in the kitchen one your phone at the table.

But you weren’t. Still reaching for that unacceptable feeling that you left him, he traveled to the bathrooms, the pantry, the closet. He ripped open the doors, unhinged more than he’s ever felt. He was desperate to see you, even if it was in the fucking basement. His breath picked up the pace, somewhere in between fast walking down the hallways.

He returned to the kitchen, running a hand through his hair. He was sure that you were here, you were just hiding from him. He ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes with a deep sigh. He pushed down the nagging feeling pulling at his heart, instead focusing on the primal feeling of hunting you down.

He’d rather not feel hurt like this compared to other emotions. The light from the window above the sink showered him, his eyes traveling with the few dust particles in the air. That was until he was forced to focus on the figure in his backyard. He walked up the counter, his hips leaning against it as he squinted his eyes to see closer.

It was you, sticking your hand through a metal wire fence to pet a dog. You were on your knees, resting back on your heels as you smiled. The clothes you must’ve slept in last night were still on, gathering water on the fabrics knees. He couldn’t stop staring, his hands resting on the edge.

You could say it was relief, but he didn’t care as he exited through the back porch door he never used. The sound of the door shutting closed caught your attention as you looked over your shoulder. Asa headed toward you with determination, you calmly petting the dog once more as you rise to your feet.

It was tension that stretched between you two, his hand cradling the back of your head as he observed you. You raised your eyebrows with a smile, happy for him to be this close at such early mornings. You had been sitting on the back porch, taking in the scenery of his beautiful back yard before a simple dog showed up, practically begging you to pet him.

You most likely didn’t hear the car pull up, the modern vehicle quiet. But, here Asa was. Quiet besides the quickened breaths and intensely loud stare. Your hands tested the water, running up his forearm and bicep while the other reached around his waist. It was quite odd, no words spoken from him, actions far from the collector in this moment.

You weren’t complaing, finally deciding to pull him closer. He obliged, pushing you into his chest as he looked across to the dog that resided in the same place. He could almost say he was pissed at this dog for taking away his companion like that. But he insisted on holding you, his chin gently resting on your head.

He couldn’t say what possessed him to hold you in such a random place at an early morning of the day, but he liked it. You hadn’t left him, you didn’t break that trust he never let free. Instead you were simply out of sight, subconsciously hiding from him like he had told himself.

You guys had returned inside the house, you explaining why you were out there as he sat at the kitchen table, cracking open his case to destroy his chance of sleep once more. He would usually travel to his work room, not to be bothered by you or anyone. He wanted to keep you in sight for the time being, wanting his senses to interact with you in anyway.

As he listened to your plans that would probably change throughout the day, he relaxed his face and body, looking up to you. You were rambling as usual, one thing that he grew to seek out when you would converse with him. Maybe it was a smile forming, maybe it was just his lips resting. But either way, he was satisfied for the time being.

Asa hated to admit it, but he actually cared for you, absentmindedly searching for you in simple things. Like how a certain color on an item would remind him of you entirely. It just goes in depth to how.. attached? Connected? He was to your relationship. It made him feel better about himself honestly, the way you loved him unconditionally even after everything you’ve seen him do.

It was the way his first thoughts were to look for you, rather than hunt you down which came later. It showed him how important you were, that you weren’t another common specimen. As he scribbled on the papers, he realized that even if you had left, he would find you. You were his. Thinking that made him, what you could say, happy. It would be like that until death do you part.

[spacedikut]

the blessing of a blizzard ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: a blizzard leaves the team holed up in the bau office. spencer can’t stop thinking about your elusive boyfriend, mike, who might not be your boyfriend after all. 4.3k

a/n: festive fic! kind of! im too scared to do a final check so if there’s errors or i misuse pronouns just lemme know ily happy holidays ! thank you to the incredible @homoose for helping with dialogue :D

Mike. His name is Mike, and Spencer hates him.

Full name Michael, Spencer presumes, which comes from Hebrew meaning “who is like God?” A rhetorical question, implying there is no person like God, Michael was one of the archangels in Hebrew tradition and the only one identified as an archangel in the Bible.

What Michael should mean, however, is the guy that stole your heart and left Spencer thinking things very unlike him – that Mike, a man Spencer has never met and that clearly makes you very happy, has a really stupid name, for example.

There are three things Spencer knows about him:

1. Ever since you started deciding on his wardrobe, ladies love him. It makes you a little jealous, apparently.

2. You love baking him homemade treats whenever you can. Like a movie playing in his head, Spencer can perfectly remember you excitedly chatting with Garcia and Emily, animatedly explaining how excited Mike gets when he sees you’ve made something just for him.

3. Mike can be a bit of a dick, actually. There have been several mornings you’ve come in with a long face, leaning back in your desk chair far enough to view the world upside down and whining about how grumpy Mike was that morning, how you had to tip-toe around your apartment lest he get mad.

You’d called him your soulmate, added that he’s a light in your life you didn’t know you needed until you had him. You’re a person who chooses their words carefully, so when you’re walking around putting Mike and soulmate in the same sentence, you mean business.

That business is ripping Spencer’s heart out of his chest, apparently. Because you’re busy showing JJ pictures of him on your phone right now, blissfully unaware of the subconscious glare Spencer is lasering into your phone as he leans against the jet counter.

Spencer’s never had the honour of seeing Mike (a genuine word you used – honour) and you know what? Spencer doesn’t want to know what Mike looks like. Spencer doesn’t care. Mike’s probably ugly, anyway, and Spencer’s confidence within himself grows day by day and if there’s one thing he’s learnt recently it’s that comparison is the thief of joy and-

“Oh!” JJ exclaims, “He’s gorgeous!”

Fuck Mike. Really, fuck him.

+++

The floor is slippery beneath everyone’s feet, the surrounding area slowly losing its mixture of colours to blend into one coat of white.

It’s snowing.

Garcia greets the team, a steaming cup of tea in her bejewelled hands, and everyone gets to work right away. There’s whispers of the snow getting heavier and sticking and covering more and more ground with more and more depth; people are rushing against the proverbial clock to get done and get home before they’re all stuck.

But that won’t happen, right? If people were genuinely concerned about getting snowed in, surely everyone would’ve been sent home early as a precaution. Right? Right?

Wrong.

Rossi’s the one to notice it, calling out, “Check it out. Snow’s pretty bad.”

He says it like it’s nothing, like they’ll race to the windows then deflate with disappointment because you couldn’t even create a single snowball with that light coat, but holy hell people are walking around with snow up to their ankles and it’s still coming down thick. And then the lights are flickering and JJ is making frantic calls home to Will and Hotch is exiting his office, phone pressed to his ear, calling everyone to attention:

“There’s a blizzard incoming. It’s too dangerous for anyone to be on the roads, so we’re being told to sit tight. You should all try to call home, just in case; we don’t know how long we’ll be here.”

Some people still brave it, still try to head on home, and whether they make it or not is up to the Gods. The team glance around, varying expressions – Emily and Derek look pissed, JJ is worried, and you and Rossi are straight-faced. Penelope is bouncing in excitement.

“It’s like a sleepover!”

All Spencer can think about is how Mike will have to suffer another day without you. He bites back a smile.

+++

Spencer’s straining his neck, butt barely on his desk chair, in attempt to see around all the bustling people that stand between you and him. Through the glass BAU doors, on the phone, your shoulders are slumped and you kick your boot against the floor a few times to channel your multitude of emotions into something. He hopes Mike isn’t giving you a hard time for something that isn’t within your control.

Emily looks up from her monitor, where she’s doing Christmas shopping even though it’s Christmas Eve, and looks thoroughly amused by Spencer’s internal battle of wanting to watch you but not wanting it to be obvious.

“You good, Reid?”

Spencer flinches like Emily pinched him. “Yeah, good. Fine. Are you good?”

Emily makes a show of slowly turning to look at you, still on the phone, then slowly turning back to Spencer’s wide-eyed gaze. She smirks. “You think they’re talking to Mike?”

Yes, Spencer does think that, but he’d made a point to not fully acknowledge it. And there’s something about Emily’s smugness that tells Spencer she’s teasing him – she knows something he doesn’t and it makes his eyes narrow. “Probably. Why?”

Whatever the response is, Emily’s barely opened her mouth before she’s interrupted by Penelope Garcia gracefully clapping her hands, getting the attention of every BAU member. The team quiets and all eyes are on Penelope. Except Spencer, who watches with concern as you sneak back to your desk, a furrow to your brow and downward dips either side of your mouth.

“I know these are less-than-great circumstances, and we’re stuck in work of all places, but that shouldn’t mean we can’t have a little fun! So…”

She wildly gestures for Hotch to step forward, a cheesy grin on her face and a gleam in Hotch’s eye that tells everyone he’s also smiling but internally, and she takes the three large boxes he was carrying like the good sidekick he is.

“We’re building gingerbread houses!”

There’s exclamations of surprise and joy; Emily lights up at the idea of doing anything other than work or sitting at her desk, and JJ takes a box to look it over before asking, “Where did you get these?”

Hotch answers. “They were supposed to be for the kids,” He shrugs, holding back a smile, “However, I guess we can use them now.”

“Yes,” Penelope nods, “Yes, we can use them now. Get your game faces on, because this is a competition. Hotch and Rossi are the judges, because they’re grumpy old men, and the rest of us will be in teams of two fighting to build the best gingerbread house the BAU has ever seen.”

Derek speaks up for the first time, just to insult Spencer. “I refuse to be on a team with Reid. He has no creative skills.”

Members of the team laugh and Spencer reacts indignantly. He wants to reply, but you’re already speaking.

“Hey! I’ll take him! Spencer’s great.”

Many heads snap to you when you speak, Spencer’s surely got whiplash, but you’re looking at him and smiling at him and him alone. He’s breathless at the sight, how you chose him and have literal stars in your eyes, yet all he can think is how undeserving he is of such a beauty. How undeserving anyone is, mostly Mike, to exist in the same reality as someone who puts the definition of beautiful to shame.

Spencer’s about to make the best damn gingerbread house the world has ever seen.

+++

So, building a gingerbread house? A little more difficult than originally thought.

Maybe it’s the sticky icing, or the temptation to simply eat all the sweet decorative candy rather than use it for its intended purpose, or…

Maybe it’s the pretty teammate Spencer has that keeps brushing against him, keeps brushing against his hands, and like a virus to a computer you completely wipe Spencer of all thoughts other than: Y/N.

Spencer caught you watching him while he was rolling up his shirt sleeves, caught you staring at his hands and trailing your eyes up his forearms, following the sleeves as they moved inch by inch up to his elbows.

Then, when Spencer was holding two pieces of gingerbread together, you were too lost in thought to put the icing between the cracks and cement them together. Your eyes were trained on the fingers pressing the pieces together. Spencer had to call your name three times to wake you up.

Then, something weird happened (if the previous instances weren’t weird enough). You two had been in your own bubble of hushed tones and accidental touching, surrounded by bickering and collapsing houses and at one point Emily offered Rossi twenty bucks if he just votes for her and JJ without them making a house, and suddenly it’s silent. All he can hear is his heartbeat, his blood pumping in his ears, and all he can feel is the warmth of your breath on his ear because you’re right there, over his shoulder, joining him in hunching over your creation to decorate it with all kinds of shapes and colours.

The close proximity is too much. It’s too much.

You lean even closer, shoulder and arm pressed directly against Spencer’s, and lift another hand to place a miniature candy cane next to the gingerbread door. The action causes your hand to brush Spencer’s, and for the first time ever he’s not jolting away like he’s been electrocuted, no, his hand stays there, hovering, waiting and hoping for more.

Hoping for more of you.

And you seem to realise, too, that Spencer’s reaction is abnormal. He can’t decide if you’re testing the waters, or if it was a mere accident. But what are you testing the waters for? Why are you trying to touch him? Why do you want to touch him?

He takes a sharp intake of breath. From the corner of his eye, he sees you turn to look at him, and he almost doesn’t reciprocate. Almost.

You’re so close, face so close to his own. You take the softest breaths, in and out, sending the gentlest puffs of air onto Spencer’s lips.

He has no idea what the fuck is happening. He doesn’t want it to stop.

Your eyes, always shining and full of an emotion Spencer can’t decipher, dance around his face – his eyes, to his nose, stopping on each cheek, back and forth and up and down. Spencer’s captured by them, unable to tear himself away, which has become quite the habit since he’s known you.

Then you’re looking at his lips.

Spencer blinks, hoping to clear away the obvious hallucination he’s having, but no. Nothing changes. Your gaze remains, unwavered, making Spencer subconsciously open his mouth. The softest gasp leaves it when your pupils dilate.

This is the perfect moment to kiss, right? Right here, in front of the gingerbread house you made together, decorated together, and now begin the start of something else together. It makes sense, it’s almost poetic, and Spencer’s thought about you and him in a relationship enough times to consider this opportunity good and sweet enough to regale everyone with in the future.

Can you imagine it? “We had our first kiss in front of the gingerbread house we slaved over together. We won the competition, too.”

There’s a loud clang – Penelope found an actual gong from somewhere – and Rossi announces that the timer has gone off and it’s time for the judges to vote for the winner.

When you gently pick up yours and Spencer’s creation and take it to a cloth-covered table, where Rossi and Hotch ominously stand with their arms crossed, Spencer is frozen in place.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

There’s no way you wanted to kiss him. It isn’t possible. You’ve never looked at him like that before. It must’ve been a mistake.

But you were so close…

No. If Spencer made that move, it would’ve ruined everything – your friendship, the festive fun, the atmosphere of the entire evening. Everyone’s expected to be stuck here for at least another six hours, and making it tense and awkward was not something Spencer is willing to do.

But your eyes…

Spencer can’t think about that fact too much. That could mean anything – dilated pupils don’t necessarily mean you’re in love. You could’ve gotten a good whiff of the gingerbread and felt hungry, or a song you really liked started playing from the playlist Penelope created. Or, most likely, Spencer thinks, you were thinking about someone else.

Your boyfriend, for example.

You have a boyfriend. Mike.

Of course, you were probably thinking of Mike. Your boyfriend.

Spencer almost kissed someone in a relationship, and he’s pretty sure you almost kissed him too.

+++

Much to Derek’s chagrin, you and Spencer win the gingerbread house contest.

Penelope was baffled, frantically gesturing to the Jacuzzi she made with icing and- Derek made miniature weights? Somehow? It looked chaotic.

“Practicality, my dear,” Rossi told her. “Who, living in a gingerbread house, is worried about working out?”

Even though you and Spencer were the winners, Derek and Penelope and their pouting (and calls for a rematch) took the attention away from the obvious awkward tension between the winners. Spencer stayed at the desk you worked at while you took your house to the judges, stayed at the desk when you were crowned and stayed at the desk when you cheered.

You looked at him, wide grin and happy eyes, and all he could do was tightly smile back. Give a thumbs up.

He gave you a thumbs up. You nearly kissed less than ten minutes prior. And all he could do was give you a thumbs up.

The light in your eyes dimmed, but you seemed to understand.

Understand what, exactly? Spencer’s not so sure either. But something clicked in your head – you nodded to yourself as if confirming whatever you’ve concluded, and turned your back to him.

That was an hour ago. Now, the team has spread across everyone’s desks. Turns out, Hotch is a big fan of gingerbread - he’s consumed most of Derek and Penelope’s creation, icing and all, while Rossi has decided now is a good time to open one of the many bottles of whiskey he has in his office.

Spencer believes having that much alcohol in your work environment is breaking some kind of rule, but the snow isn’t letting up and it looks like a sleepover in the BAU office is likely. He deserves a little whiskey.

And where are you in all of this?

Spencer won’t lie and pretend he hasn’t had you in his line of sight the entire time, so he’ll recap what you’ve been doing: laughing at Derek’s jokes, plaiting Penelope’s hair, eating the candy Emily and JJ didn’t use on their house.

You’d left the room to call home and check up on things (check up on Mike, Spencer thinks bitterly) and now you stand in front of the large window by the BAU elevators, watching the snow fall.

Spencer has the perfect view of you through the glass doors. When the call ends and you stay there, he grabs a paper plate, grabs one of the walls from yours and his masterpiece and makes his way towards you.

He doesn’t know what he’ll say, or how he’ll even act, but he wants to talk to you. Things feel weird after the almost-kiss, and Spencer never wants things to be weird with you. He can’t have things weird with you. You hadn’t talked to him once since the competition, and he has a feeling you’re waiting for him to make the first move.

So he does. If that’s what you need, he’ll do it.

(He’s making this more dramatic than it needs to be, really, but he feels everything so deeply when it comes to you)

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice perfectly matches the snowy atmosphere. It makes you feel warm inside, like you’ve just taken a sip of hot cocoa, and so often he’s left goosebumps on your skin just from speaking.

Seeing the outstretched paper plate in his hand, you take it gratefully. “Hi there. Thanks.” You nod to the gingerbread that you begin breaking up.

You hand him the first piece even though he brought it for you, and it’s silent while you both chew thoughtfully and watch the pure white outside. It doesn’t feel weird, necessarily, standing here, shoulder-to-shoulder with you, but you’re certainly more in your head than usual. You’re thinking a lot and, as much as it hurts him, Spencer knows you’re likely preoccupied by your boyfriend and not what transpired between you earlier.

It’s that thought, that disappointment settling into his chest, that opens his mouth unconsciously: “How’s Mike? Does he know you’re not making it home tonight?”

He regrets it immediately, worsened by the way you stop mid-chew, eyes dimming like Spencer’s taken a baseball bat and shattered the lights inside.

This is unchartered territory – talking about Mike with you – and you know it. Who, in their right mind, willingly asks the person they have feelings for how their relationship with someone that isn’t you is going? Does Spencer enjoy pain?

Although this is the first time Spencer’s mentioned Mike to your face (he’s mentioned Mike plenty to a laughing Derek), he’s been so close to presenting the topic many times. He wants to know so badly – wants to know how well Mike treats you, really treats you (he will profile you), if you see a long-term future with him and if not, on average how long does it take you to get over your exes? Just an estimate?

You swallow the gingerbread you’re eating. “He’s okay. My roommate has to take care of him, but at least he’s got someone.”

Huh?

Since when do you have a roommate?

And why is your roommate taking care of your boyfriend?

Oh. Guilt blooms in Spencer when it registers that he’s been thinking ill of a person that might be sick. No wonder you dote on him so much and seemed devastated to make that phone call home earlier - Mike needs you, you can’t be there for him, and you feel horrible for it.

Spencer feels horrible for having the subject of his anger be someone you so clearly cherish, so deeply love. He’s embarrassed that if he was asked to explain why he hates Mike so much, he’d have to tell them it’s because Mike has you, and you’re what Spencer wants. What about what you want?

“Take care of him?” Spencer asks. The concern is genuine, which is an emotion he never thought he’d have in regards to Mike. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh,” You shrug. “He needs someone watching over him at all times, that’s all.”

That’s all?

You continue. “Make sure he eats – and only eats what he’s supposed to. Give him his meds. Make sure he poops. Those kinda things.”

What?

“Your… roommate makes sure your boyfriend poops?”

Now, Spencer knows what you look like when you’re confused. Honestly, he has every facial expression you’ve graced him with tucked away in a proverbial box he spends too much time thinking about. He knows that when you’re trying not to laugh, you bite the inside of your left cheek. When you’re frustrated but need to present a professional front, you bite the inside of your right cheek. Happiness fills your entire face, like every inch is consumed by it, and you’ve trained yourself to transport anger to your hands, where they twist into tight fists and leave fingernail marks in your palms.

Confusion is one of his favourites (second only to joy – for obvious reasons. Have you seen your smile?) because it takes many forms. You’ve pursed your lips, narrowed your eyes, tapped your foot on the floor. When you do them all, Spencer considers it a jackpot. There’s something about the way you look when you’re presented with something you can’t quite figure out yet, when you’re perplexed, that just-

You make it hard for him to concentrate. He can’t be a genius when you’re around because you’re so pretty. You’re a vision and he can never rattle off information to you specifically because he will trip up and divert to talking about the beauty that is you and that would be embarrassing for many reasons.

But this type of confusion? The way you’re looking at him right now? He’s never seen this before. Your jaw has dropped, your brows are furrowed so deeply they might fall off, and you look… horrified.

“My… my boyfriend?”

Spencer mirrors your expression. “Yeah, your boyfriend. Mike?” He looks around, waiting for cameramen to jump out and tell him he’s being pranked, because why don’t you know who your own boyfriend is?

You move slowly, placing the half-eaten plate on the windowsill before turning to face Spencer fully. You take a second to compose yourself.

“Mike is my cat.”

Mike is…

“And he’s having digestive issues, so he needs to be watched pretty much full-time.”

Silence. Tense, weird silence.

“…You thought Mike was my boyfriend?”

Spencer sputters, then, because of course he did! “Yes! The way you talk about him was… it was… it seemed…”

He flustered, oh so flustered, hands flailing and face enflamed and burning from the inside out. How had he not known?! How had… how had your wires gotten so convoluted, so mixed?

Does everyone know that Mike is a cat? Is Spencer the only one out of the loop? The look Emily gave him earlier, that knowing too-smug look, was that…

She was making fun of him. She knew he thought Mike was a person, not a pet, and was teasing him because of it.

All at once, the world seems lighter and dimmer – a contradiction that leaves Spencer’s chest heaving – because the past year feels like a lie. He’s spent so long seeing the way you come to life when talking about Mike, sitting opposite you on the jet as you awaken like a dying flower watered when home got closer and closer, and it was all for… a cat?

There’s a mist over Spencer’s eyes as he recalls every overheard declaration of love and coos of how handsome Mike is, and you’re laughing. Spencer’s having a crisis in front of your very eyes and you’re laughing. Hunched over, a single tear falling from your eye, clutching your stomach because it hurts from the ferocity of your giggles.

By the time you quieten, your hand is over your mouth to cover the big grin that grounds him, gives him something other than this revelation to focus on. Spencer’s still baffled, frazzled, but there’s the tiniest of smiles on his face because of how overjoyed you look. And he did that. Albeit his stupidity did it, but Spencer’s stupidity nonetheless.

You’re out of breath. “God I… I don’t even know what to say. You really thought my cat was my boyfriend?”

Spencer’s fighting a smile, lips wiggling. The way you’re looking at him now, all blinding smile and crinkled eyes, alleviates him of any anxiety he earlier had. Like you’ve wiped away his plate-full of worries, all the times it felt like he took an arrow to the heart, all the times he caught you smiling at your phone because you were looking at pictures of Mike, it’s all worth it. Because you’ve never looked like this while talking about Mike, and Mike is a cat. He isn’t a person, isn’t your boyfriend. Mike is a cat and Spencer has a chance.

Spencer has a chance.

“Does this… this means you’re single, right?”

A somewhat terrified look overtakes his face.

“Oh, shoot, you are single, right?”

You bite your lower lip and nod. “Yes, Spencer. I’m single.”

He lets out a breath. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad.” He repeats your nod, realises what he said could imply, and starts shaking his head. “Not-not good good. You’re incredible and need to be appreciated, but… good, because that means we could, you know…” He gestures vaguely. God, why can’t he get coherent words out? “If you wanted to, we could-“

“Are you trying to ask me out, Spencer?”

“Yes.”

Just to cause immense emotional distress, you raise an eyebrow, mischief clear on your face, and wait for him to continue.

“You want me to actually ask?” He winces.

“I’ve spent the last year convinced you didn’t like me, so, yes, I want you to actually ask.”

The new information sends ice down Spencer’s back because what? Since when? “You- what?“

“I’ve liked you for a while, Spencer,” You cross your arms over your body, slightly embarrassed. “But you always kept your distance so I did too, I guess.”

“I thought you were taken!” Spencer exclaims. “If I’d known I would’ve-we could’ve- I would-“

“You’d what, Reid?” There’s a teasing lilt to your tone, but there’s no denying you’re incandescently happy.

He takes a deep breath and asks what he’s wanted to for far too long. “When this is all over, would you like to go on a date with me, Y/N?”

Relief flashes in your eyes, like you didn’t fully believe what was happening until he finally asked, and words have never sounded as pretty as when you say: “Yes. Yes I would.”

Like lovesick idiots, you stand in front of the window with the snowfall as a backdrop, grinning at each other. You can’t help it – you lean up, press a kiss to his cheek that immediately sets his skin ablaze, and fall back onto your feet with a smile sweeter than all the sugar you’d consumed today.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.”

Somehow, despite the nerves and the way his heart is trying to leap into your hands, he manages to tell you, “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

+++

(Three weeks later, Spencer meets the Mike. Turns out he’s a nice guy. Spencer takes the first opportunity he can to apologise for all the bad things he said about him behind his back. The purring tells Spencer he’s forgiven)

+++

tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @bitchyreids @roses-and-grasses @ta-ka-shi-ma @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @gublertoon @averyhotchner @prettyboy-reid @shadyladyperfection

[jointimeandspace]

Hey y'all! So this is my second headcannon. I may make this a part 2 if the moment strikes or I have some ideas. But I hope you enjoy. *Edit: I just wanna say I was definitely inspired by @KathyIsWeird on AO3. Check out their story "Teach Me Tonight." It made me feel so happy, especially as a chubby person myself.

First Night (pt.1?)

It was a cloudy night as you sat on the large bed while looking out the window. The silence of the room was quiet, but not uncomfortable. It was also warm and peaceful; an orange tint bounced of the walls that were created from the fire. You were nervous. It was you first time making love with Alcina. As you stared around the room your poor stomach was in knots. What if you vomited, or fainted? You'd be so embarrassed. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn't. You pulled the sheets around you trying to steady your nerves. The deep breath you took was so shaky and loud that you could've sworn everyone in the castle heard it, but you wanted this moment to happen, and waited for it for a long time. When you first started working at the castle, all you wanted to do was work long enough just to save up enough money to leave the village. Falling in love was the last thing you needed. At first you thought love was just a set back to your goals, but you soon found out the lady of the house felt the same way. There'd be times in the beginning when you'd catch her looking at you when she thought she was being subtle about it, wondering what was reeling through your mind when you saw her. It made you uncomfortable at first. As time went on you eventually started noticing her as well. Her pale skin with a tint of gray underneath, her beautiful full, red lips, her gray-green eyes, everything about her was ethereal. To know she wanted you, a chubby, insecure girl with glasses was almost shocking. You've always remained in the background, minding your business and doing your chores, trying not get in trouble so you won't get sent to the dungeons. You were flattered. "She clearly, must've seen something in me that I didn't and still don't see," you said to yourself.

"And so I do."

You jumped as your breath hitched in your throat. For someone as enormous as her she was awfully quiet. You stared at her wondering if she was real or not. Alcina emerged from the bathroom wearing a dark purple robe with a very prominent low cut center. She smelled of fresh gardenias and her raven hair was out of her famous bun and down to her shoulders. She looked like an angel.

"You look...divine, Alcina!"

She smiled as she walked over to her vanity to pour herself a glass of wine. "Thank you, pet! Not half as divine as you. You look so pretty in that pink negligee. You know, you should really wear more clothes that inhance those soft, sweet curves of yours," she said as she took a swig of wine. She turned her eyes at you. There was a hint of love in those eyes along with something else. They darkened as she looked you up and down. You sometimes forget she is predatory by nature. What she wants, she gets. Tonight, she gets you.

"Um, I'll try. I look in a few catalogs tomorrow. Whatever looks right I'll show you."

"Wonderful! What's on your mind, dear? I can see the gears rotating in that cute head of yours." Alcina moved over to the bed and sat on the edge. "Are you nervous, draga?"

"More than you ever know. I've never been with someone before. Sure I've had...moments with myself, but even those were awkward," you sighed. You scooted down on the bed to lay back on your pillow, looking up at the ceiling. " I felt good for a second, but I never finished. I've been close though, even though I wasn't sure what I was doing was right." You turned over on your side embarrassed.

Alcina chuckled as she stroked your leg. "Draga, there isn't only a singular way to pleasure yourself. If what you did felt good, then continue doing it. As for finishing, sometimes an orgasm shouldn't always be the end goal. If it happens, then that's all good and well. However, the more you focus on it, the harder it'll be to get there. The best feeling is to let the activity flow naturally. Do you understand?"

You turned to look at her. That was easy for her to say as she was more experienced. Over decades of practice and maybe even more to come. You felt, even though you wouldn't admit it, that your time was limited.

"I know, Alci, but I...." Anxiety was creeping in as you've never had such an in depth conversation about this with anyone, but you mustered up the courage to continue. "I just want to know what it would feel like. For so long I was convinced that I wouldn't meet anyone, and so I thought that the only way to make me feel better about...potentially being single for the rest of my life was to try to achieve orgasm, and when I didn't get there I'd be frustrated. Like I said, I felt good, but incomplete. Now that I've met you, I really wished I could've had one. At least I would've entered in this relationship having an inkling on what to do." Tears spilled from your eyes. Alcina grab her handkerchief from her robe pocket and wiped your face as she positioned herself along the headboard. She pulled you into her lap cuddling you until you calmed down. She hated to see you cry. To her sex was a simple, easy thing to pick up. But she had to remember that this was your first time. You told her at the beginning of your relationship that you wanted their first time to be meaningful. Alcina hummed and thought back to her wedding night. It was awful! The lack of communication made her feel jaded, the belittling her husband did to her made her feel dirty, and nothing was consensual at all. She kissed the top of your head.

"This is stupid, Alci! You probably think I'm a mess right now. I've often been told that nobody wants to be with virgins. We're too this, too that, too emotional, too clingy. I could go on forever...."

"Don't, love. I know how you're feeling. My first time, or any other time after that during my marriage, wasn't pleasant. I was told the same things by my husband and he took matters into his own hands. But you? I'll never do to you what he did to me; made me feel, small, useless, unimportant, unworthy, and an idiot for not knowing what I was doing. A nuisance, I was to him. And he made that known. If I didn't know what I was doing, he was going to find someone else who did. It hurt! A partner is supposed to teach and help you. Your feelings are heard and so valid. Those people that told you all that nonsense remind me of that horrid man. Of course they're having sex, but do you know if they are truly happy?" You looked up at her. You didn't know. People always talked about how much they were getting, but you didn't know their struggles aside from them bedding each other. What if their relationship was one sided? What if it was fulfillment for one and meaningless for the other? Comparison is the thief of joy you always heard.

"Sex doesn't always equate to happiness, love. It's better to be alone than to jump from one relationship to another wondering if what you feel is happiness or emptiness. Sometimes sex is used as a coping method, a random stop along this road called life with no real feeling involved. For some, it may not bother them at all and they continue where they left off. For others, it can make them feel drained and tired, and then that emptiness and depression comes creeping back again when they find out it wasn't truly love. I'm not judging you for waiting, so please don't feel bad. I wouldn't have judged you if you didn't. You would've had experience, but even then boundaries would still need to be set just like now."

Your grip around Alcina tightened. You felt as though a weight was lifted off your shoulders. You have no idea how she has so much patience, but your glad she does. "Thank you, Alci! I guess that makes me feel a little better. I was wondering if, maybe not tonight, but soon, could we try again?

"Of course darling! Whatever you want." She smiled and gave you soft kiss. "Sweetie? When the time comes, you'll find I can be a most wonderful teacher. I want to make you feel so good." Her hand trailed down to your bottom and a rush of electricity sent shivers through your body. Alcina chuckled as she gave you a dazzling smile. "We'll have to practice everyday, draga."

"Well, then professor, I can't wait to start our lessons. I want to know EVERYTHING!" You giggled and gave her another playful kiss. You were so lucky to have someone so caring and understanding as Alcina. You know your first time will be magical when it eventually comes.

[dreamii-yume]

@shikigamiuwu said :

“Epel’s have a crush to y/n since they meet them and has confessed there love for y/n many times but y/n reject him. So since it was here birthday he thought of confessing again since he has birthday pass, but Y/n reject him again since he has a crush to Vil or Rook (whoever you want) to Epel’s demise, so Epel’s became so frustrated and angry that he just rape y/n and manipulate him on think y/n is not worthy to be with Vil’s so he can have y/n for himself.”

••••••••••

You, my good bitch, have sent like- four big-brained ideas for not only Epel but SILVER BIRTHDAY CRUMBS and I am ascending. Yume does not deserve this, I–

Warnings : Non-Consensual Touching | Non-Con | Yandere

“I like you.”

If it happened to be your first-time hearing Epel say those three words to you in such an affectionate manner, words that are obviously meant to be taken as a confession, it would’ve been enough to put you through a coma because of shock. You’ll be all flustered and probably stutter like a toddler learning how to speak for the first time, trying to figure out if it was a joke or not, despite the obvious signs. I mean...It was a confession from such a beautiful boy after all and you don’t really consider yourself as someone who can reach that level of beauty so, how can you not panic? If it were the first time, you wouldn’t know what to do, what words you should say, or which feelings you should prioritize. You’d be totally lost!

Except…This was no first time.

How many times had this beautiful boy confessed to you over the course of a few months? You weren’t counting, but you do know that you rejected each one of them respectfully and thoroughly. You didn’t why he kept coming back, he’s a lot more persistent than he lets on. “...How many times are you gonna tell me that?” You can answer him as differently as you want, but Epel would only smile at you and say the same thing every time.

“Until you can say that you like me back.”

The first time was as true as it could get, you were flustered, in the state of disbelief, plenty of eye movements going everywhere, grateful but unsure, and nervous sweat formed on your forehead. He loves you in a romantic sense, but even if he was someone precious to you, you just can’t see him as someone more than a really good friend, family even. “...But I keep telling you, I already like someone else.” It was your only excuse; it was a weak reason but at least it wasn’t a lie, Epel should know it more than anyone. It shuts him up, unable to say anything that could counteract your words and at first glance, it looks like a sign of giving up but soon, he’d just shrug it off like you never said anything in the first place.

It was troublesome, Epel wasn’t forcefully pushing his personal ideologies into you but having to tell you something that you already know is tiring to say the least. You wanted to be polite and even appreciate his honesty, but the more times he confesses, the more desensitized you get. Your rejections went from being apologetic to giving out an exasperated sigh and a shake of your head, just wanting to get it over with. It’ll just be the same anyways, the same confession and the same response, there was no point in sugar coating your words at this point.

“I like you.”

Epel might have thought that he’d get the response he wanted if he confesses to you on his birthday, but you could just shake your head in pity. No, you weren’t going to give in to the fact that it’s his special day and feel obligated to reciprocate his feelings because of it. You’d be lying otherwise, and you’re not about to build a relationship out of lies...Seriously, when is he ever going to stop terrorizing you with all these confessions, you’re starting to feel really bad about yourself here.

“Like I said a million times before, Epel.” You narrowed your eyebrows together with a stern and impeccable voice. “I don’t like you that way, I have someone I already like—“

“It’s Vil-san, right?”You widened your eyes as you looked back at Epel, surprised that he gave up a different answer than the usual. He was wearing the same smile as he does before, but up until now, you just can’t stand the fact on how empty it feels.

“H-How did you—“

“It’s obvious. Anyone could easily guess it if they observed you enough...Especially with how you constantly you look at him.” He said, his clear cerulean eyes burning holes into your soul. This made your cheeks flushed, quickly looking down...Do you really act that weird when it comes to Vil? It’s true that he makes your heart flutter and his presence was just something that you can’t turn a blind eye into but...You always thought that you were keeping your feelings cool and low. “What, don’t tell me you’re not aware of it yourself?”

Epel laughed, his hand covering his mouth like a delicate princess. “You’re really funny, charming even when your making such a dumb face too, hehe...” He said with a tinge of adorable red tainted on his flawless skin, rosy cheeks that you could only ever wish in your dream to have. You gulped as he looked back at you, staring straight into your unsettled eyes, making your body tense without knowing the actual reason as to why. “...But that’s only because I really like you that I’m willing to accept any of your bad characteristics. What do you think will I think if I were a normal person? If I were Vil-san?”

Your mouth closed and open multiple times, trying to find the words you want to say. Somehow, you began to piece together what he wanted to say and yet, you couldn’t actually stop him from saying it out loud. You knew it yourself; you didn’t need someone to pressure you into admitting something you already knew. Was Epel this much of a shrewd person before? Regardless, his pink polished lips twisted into a chilling smile.

“I’d think you’re disgusting.”

“You think you’re so smooth, following him around and eavesdropping every time he opens his mouth to talk just to hear his voice. You’re probably the type to steal some stuff from him too, it’s creepy!” Epel said, walking over to you as you kept your head held down, ashamed to be called out like this. “That makes you no different from a crazed fan, a stalker. Vil-san already gets plenty of those, he doesn’t need another one.”

You gasped as Epel grasped your chin, his eyes remaining as dark and cruel as you remembered them before, only that this time, he was no longer smiling. “…That’s why it’s disgusting. That’s not the kind of beauty Vil-san is looking for.” He said as you tried backing away, only for him to keep on stepping forward to stay close to you. “He’ll never acknowledge someone like you.”

You yelped as Epel suddenly pushed your shoulders down, tackling you down to the ground. Grunting, you landed in a not-so gentle manner with his beautiful face hovering above you. “...But I do.” He added, a small smile reappeared in his face, it was more like a pity smile if anything else.

You were getting scared, there was fear in your eyes alone as you try to search for your way out of this situation. Epel has a small structure despite being growing man himself, the different in size between the two of you are barely even noticeable! But with that cold, intimidating gaze, it feels as if you were forced to shrunk down beneath him. “E-Epel—“ Your voice calling out his name only became an encouragement for him to move his hands freely around your body. Even when you widened your eyes as he suddenly lifted up your shirt to expose your chest.

“W-Wait— no!” You can protest all you want, but even struggling against him as a fit resilience did nothing to reach conscience. Your breath was shaking as he merely swayed your flinging arms away, already weakened by your own will, and worked his way into freeing your mounds to be groped. His hand reached the underneath the skirt that you were wearing for his party and wasted no time in reaching for your underwear. Quavering lips turned into gasps of panic as he makes its way down to your erogenous zones, his nimble fingers able to send pleasures down your body. It didn’t take too long before the realization came to you, just how serious this is, that tears began to well up in your eyes.

He took no mind to it though, you plead and beg but you were met with cold, uncaring eyes as you felt a finger sliding in pass your folds. The way you squeaked like a mouse as he bit on your breast too, it was all too insignificant to really reach his ears at all…Looking deeper in the depths of those seemingly gentle eyes, it slowly occurred to you the emotions that he was hiding underneath there. Something that you’ve never noticed until now, or something that you never really bothered to look into, even if it was just for a split second.

All this time, Epel...was angry.

“S-Stop!” As if yelling out in a demanding voice can stop him, it only made him growl in irritation as he thrusted yet another finger inside you. Your willpower was incredibly weak, your stomach was already forming a knot ready to burst out any moment just by his fingers alone. With a scissor-like motion, it’s almost like he knew where to hit you, which places would feel good and would irk you even more, he even dug deeper down your entrance to explore undiscovered places.

An orgasm was inevitable, he was surprisingly skilled with his hands and your body wasn’t able to take all of that pleasure all at once and bursts right then and there. The toll on your body it took had you writhing on the ground, sobbing at the light-headed feeling spreading inside your brain. Epel seemed satisfied though, pulling out his fingers completely to marvel at how soaked you’ve made his fingers to be. “…You’re amazing.” He said, smiling down at you as he began to shuffle in between your legs, not even letting you rest for even a minute. “This is why I like you so much.”

“Please, stop...! W-Why…Why are you doing this…!?”

He leans in, wiping the tears off your cheek as he shook his head stubbornly. “Do you still…not understand?” He said, that chilling smile on his face was making it all the more terrifying for you as he comes and undo his pants. It’s not about whether or not you understood his motive here because you already had way too much time to do that, you were just in a state of disbelief that you’re just…doing anything you can to call off this reality your experiencing at this moment. “I said it over and over again, didn’t I?”

“I like you.”

Epel then chuckled, before shaking his head as if to correct himself from his own wording. “…No, maybe that’s why you couldn't understand.” He said, his smile becoming wider and wider. “Because it’s love.”

“I love you, (Y/N).”

[ticklyfluffers]

Sensitive Seeker-TF TK Fic

Repost of fan fiction of mine.

To think, it all started with just a simple gesture.

Thundercracker mused in how he had gotten to the scene he stood in now: Starscream shooting off blast after blast at Skywarp, yet the purple and black Seeker just treated the entire thing as some sort of game.

And, perhaps in some weird way, it was a game. As “‘playful” as a “self-respecting” Decepticon could be, he supposed. Yet still, he’d known he would need to separate the two (as always) eventually. Yet when to jump in was the question, as he was in no mood to have a shot of raw, stinging energy or a null ray being delivered to his facial region, should he intervene at the wrong time.

‘How did I get here, dealing with this?’ He questioned, inwardly groaning. It was a useless question, having already known the answer.

It had begun but a few short Earth minutes ago, at least, it had for him and Skywarp, yet for their Commander, it had begun but a few solar cycles ago (at least that measurement of time was fairly close to those used in this planet). Once again, Starscream noticed a, in his own words, “massive flaw” in one of Megatron’s bids to acquire more energy, and thus, just HAD to point it out and make sure everyone around him could hear it. This then led into the regular bickering, which led to the Seeker (once again) proclaiming he’d make a more suitable leader for the Decepticons, which led to Megatron “reminding” him of his place (once again), which resulted in a trip to the infirmary (once again).

And, while Thundercracker felt Starscream deserved to be told to keep his mouth shut, the blue Seeker found himself dreading what Megatron had planned for the Air Commander, as while it was Starscream’s punishment, somehow, in some way, it would affect his wingmates. Once again. Thankfully, it wasn’t overly extreme, mainly because Megatron had two locations of interest in mind, and probably declared that more worthy of his time than looking over his shoulder for his 2nd in Command’s potential assassination attempts. The Decepticon Leader had assigned Starscream and his wingmates to keep watch over the Space Bridge until the operation to seize control over the locations was completed or disregarded.

“And knowing our ‘glorious leader’, he’ll probably fail at this plan too.” Starscream grumbled to himself, arms folded over his chassis.

Thundercracker only sighed. Ever since he had come here, slag, back when was alerted of his duties, the Seeker had done nothing but complain over his leader’s orders. Of course, with a little “encouragement” from Soundwave (as in, alert Starscream he would be relieved of his wings for a good while if he didn’t do as he was told), their Air Commander (begrudgingly) accepted the assignment. Of course, now that they were here, Starscream had seen it as the perfect time to go ahead and start his tirade against Megatron again.

And suffice to say, it was beginning to get on his trine-mate’s nerves.

“Guard duty,” Starscream growled. “Of ALL the humiliating tasks he could’ve thrust on me...guard duty?!”

Skywarp began to shake, fists trembling until finally, he had finally reached his breaking point. “Is it possible for you to shut the frag up for at least a FEW cycles?! Is that too hard to ask?!”

Thundercracker was quite taken aback by the violet Seeker’s outburst. If anyone was being told to shut up, it was usually him. ‘Primus, he must be REALLY mad.’

“I’ll say whatever is slagging well please, thank you very much!” Starscream retorted, clenching his fists.

“Well go off and do it somewhere else away from me!” Skywarp argued back. “I’m getting sick of hearing that shrill dog whistle of a voice you’ve got!”

“Then get used to it, because I have no intention of stopping until I’m done!”

While he had no appreciation, let alone any sense of respect for it, since their arrival to this primitive world, some Decepticons had taken to using Earth expressions and terms in comparison to some more traditional, archaic language. The Casseticons were the worst out of these bots, outright using terms such as ‘dude’ and ‘man’, as well as copying much human cursing (a good portion of which humans based on their own bodily functions, to Thundercracker’s confusion). Skywarp, whether he had just decided that their regular curses weren’t enough, or he had been hanging out with Rumble and Frenzy on one too many assignments, decided to unleash everything that had been, as humans say, getting under his skin.

“Oh boo-hoo! You think YOU’RE the only one that doesn’t want to be here?!” the Seeker shouted, approaching Starscream. “This entire damn thing is your fault anyhow! You just HAD to go and run your mouth about how much Megatron’s plans suck and how YOU obviously had the better idea!”

“Because I do!” the Seeker Commander countered. “He wished to attack both locations at the same time, yet didn’t wish to better separate his forces into equal groups! Even if one was easier to access than the other, did he not think those blasted Autobots would just LET themselves be overtaken?!” he fumed, releasing a frustrated cry. “Bah! He had NO good reason to NOT send the Constructicons! There would’ve been no way that any of those slagging Auto-dorks would’ve stood a chance against Devastator! But NOOOOO! Apparently, they were needed elsewhere!”

“Because there was a crack in the hull,” Thundercracker interjected himself. True, he had little intention of getting involved, yet Starscream was forgetting one vital factor in Megatron’s decision. “The lower sections would’ve been at risk of getting worse and potentially breaking open. Then the entire Nemesis would’ve been flooded.”

“The pressure at the depths the ship’s at is far from enough to cause a breakage in such short a time!” Starscream argued. “We are situated in what the under evolved primates of this floating rock called the mesopelagic zone. True, we are away from the primary star of this current solar system, yet a majority of sea life in that area are perfectly capable of withstanding the water pressure. And they’re also organic, mind you!”

Skywarp scoffed. “You saying all that fancy mumbo-jumbo to make yourself sound smarter or something?”

“Hey, I WAS an accomplished scientist back in the Golden Era of Cybertron!”

“Of which you quit!” the purple and black Seeker countered. “And accomplished? That’s a fat load of shit, and you know it! I bet you only got a passing grade on whatever research logs you presented to those old farts running the academy!”

“Why you slagging piece of-”

“All right, both of you! That’s enough!” Thundercracker had decided that now was the time to step in, lest things start getting violent. Violence was an accepted part of Decepticon culture, seeing as many of their members had been forced to engage in it just to scrape by and survive via gladiatorial matches and other low ranking jobs (which didn’t house the most respectable of bots), yet the blue and black Seeker wasn’t in the mood in having to bring both of his wingmates into the infirmary because they decided to behave like a couple of Sparklings and duke it out.

That’s when the discovery had been made.

Thundercracker had pushed back against Skywarp’s chassis, yet he must’ve misjudged the distance between him and his oh-so-mature Commander (seriously, and he said Skywarp was the one who behaved like a sparkling). His servos made contact with the red and blue Seeker’s waistline, and that was when he and Skywarp heard it. It was a cross between a frightened gasp and an attempt to choke back laughter. Any anger between them had died that instant, replaced with curiosity and bewilderment. Their Commanding Officer was looking quite frazzled and on edge.

“Whoa, time out for a nano-second,” Skywarp said, lightly shoving Thundercracker off him. Nevertheless, he turned to him for confirmation. “You hear that too?” He then turned his attention to Starscream. “Hey, Screamer, what was that noise you made just now? And don’t say it’s nothing, I’ve got a witness right here!” Skywarp gestured to Thundercracker.

Starscream paled (even if there was no change of color) and stood there with wide, red optics. Nonetheless, he quickly straightened himself out and appeared to be cool and collected. “I was merely taken aback by Thundercracker’s sudden movements was all.” He explained, all the while trying to choose his next words very carefully. “You should be grateful he stepped in, lest I fire my null ray right in your face.” He glowered at the black and purple Seeker, hoping that his display would get his subordinate to back down.

But, as the humans said, no dice.

“Uh, correct me if I’m wrong-“ Skywarp began, taking a few steps toward, noticing how Starscream took a few steps back.

“And you are.” Starscream interrupted.

“But you seem a little nervous there.” The Seeker’s grinned. “All I’m asking is why you made that noise.”

Slag, Starscream thought. He wasn’t buying it. Ok, don’t panic. Just come up with another excuse. One that he surely couldn’t refute. “Well...it seems that my inner components are still a little sore from my last...disagreement with our all-wise and all-powerful leader.” He snarled that last part. Even if he were trying to get Skywarp off his back, it wasn’t all a lie. Hook had told him to take it slow for a few solar cycles for his internal repairs to mend the rest of him back together.

“Oh dear, are you ok?” Skywarp asked, an uncomfortable amount of mischievousness in his voice.

Slag. “Yes, I’m fine,” Starscream assured. “But...you shouldn’t touch me. In fact, I outright forbid it.”

Thundercracker analyzed the situation, looking back and forth between Skywarp and Starscream. He was puzzled at first regarding what had happened when he separated the two, yet given one Seeker’s predatory grin and the other’s excuses, it slowly dawned on him what was going on, as well as what Skywarp intended to do.

“Why?” He asked, taking a step towards Starscream while Starscream himself took a few steps back. “You took quite a bruising not too long ago. Maybe something is out of place or broken.”

“No! No, nothing is out of place or broken!” The SIC shook his head wildly.

“Are you sure? Because last time, you said Hook was a piss poor excuse for a medic.” Skywarp chuckled, raising his hands and spreading his servos out.

“Well, I think maybe he’s improved his craft these last few human weeks!” Starscream said, beginning to look around for any escape routes. “But...just in case, you shouldn’t touch anything! You could only make it worse!”

It was then that a familiar, magenta hue began to overtake the purple Seeker, Starscream’s optics widening in horror. “Why Starscream, I’m hurt! Do you think I’d actually hurt you?” He said coyly, optics fittingly red and devilish. “You’re my Commander, my trine-mate. It’s mine and Cracker’s job here to tend to your needs.”

Thundercracker gave a low growl, Skywarp knowing well how he hated being referred to by that name. Despite that though, he kept quiet.

“C’mon,” Skywarp cooed. Then, the magenta hue overtook his entire form, and in a flash, the Seeker was gone from sight.

“N-No! Stay away from me-“ Starscream shouted, yet was cut off when he felt digits traveling along his waistline.

“No need to be so tense.”

The reaction was immediate. Skywarp’s servos lightly stroked and scratched at the other Seeker’s ivory midsection, Starscream seizing up and doubling over, trying to get his “comrade” to release him.

“N-No! Stop it!” Starscream hollered, trying to grab at Skywarp’s hands. “I command you to-“ then out it came. “St-Sto-hoho-p!” A chortle caught in the middle of a demand (or was it a plea) to cease the infernal movements. Starscream had managed to wrench himself away from his assailant, but the damage was already done.

His terrible secret had been uncovered.

“No. Way.” Skywarp said. True, he suspected it, but to actually have confirmed blew his processor. “No. Fragging. Way!!!” He then pointed to his superior. “You’re ticklish!!!”

Now it was Thundercracker’s turn to be surprised, he looked at Starscream with bewilderment and shock. While it wasn’t a topic relatively discussed among themselves, he and the rest of the Decepticons would be fools if they didn’t acknowledge that their “hosts' ' shared more than a few qualities with the ones that had crashed landed on their planet millions of years ago. They were the only species to have similar civilizations to their own, same general body shape, they had an internal, skeletal structure that greatly resembled their own, lived as the dominant species on the planet (well, they were until the Decepticons and Autobots awoke), and fought and warred amongst themselves over the centuries. Yet when it came to the way their organic structure was put together, no one had an exact idea of how the human body functioned. Soundwave suggested gathering a few “lab rats'' and transporting them to Shockwave, yet so far, nothing else had come from that suggestion. Good thing too, Thundercracker felt such a thing was both unnecessary and, while he would never say it aloud, savage. But from what he had seen from Skywarp’s experiment, it seemed that they now were the ones to share the trait of ticklishness with the humans.

Starscream stood there, completely at a loss at what to say or do, processor scrambling to try and find something, anything, to keep the inevitable from happening. “I-I am not-AH!!!” He protested, only for Skywarp to teleport behind him and deliver a servo right in the crease where his hips met his waist. “Stop it!!!” He then aimed the weapon situated on his left shoulder in the other Seeker’s direction. “Try that again, and this null ray is going to blast you right in the face!”

Skywarp wasn’t the least bit intimidated. In fact, this just seemed to make him even more eager to go through with his plan. ”Primus, you’re acting like I’m going to kill you!”

“I’ll kill YOU if you get any closer! I mean it!” Starscream shouted, still aimed right at Skywarp’s head.

“Fine. Do it.” Skywarp laughed. “In fact, I doubt you’d be fast enough to hit me before I just warp out of the way.” He drew closer. “Well? I’m waiting.”

Thundercracker stood by, ready to jump in if things got too ugly. Starscream was cornered, he knew it, yet he seemed to be leaning much more into flight than fight. He looked to the blue Seeker as if trying to gain some support (or maybe a shield to use in case Skywarp made the first move), yet his optics mainly stayed on the third Seeker, trying to gauge what the next plan in his strategy was.

And it was then that Starscream made a critical decision. Frag it.

Immediately taking flight, Starscream transformed into his jet mode and zoomed off, leaving a long, cloudy trail as he departed.

“Oh no!” Skywarp declared, also transforming and chasing after his superior. “You’re not getting away that easily!”

“The slag do you think you’re going?! Get back here!!!” Thundercracker bellowed, yet either Skywarp didn’t hear or just outright disregarded his command, because he and Starscream flew off, leaving him alone.

Why did he always have to be the one to reign those two in?

…

“Aw, c’mon! I’ll go easy on you if that’ll get you to slow down!”

“NO!!!”

“I’m not going to hurt ya!”

“That makes it worse!!!”

“Don’t be such a baby!”

“Frag you!!!”

Back and forth the two Seekers went, Skywarp going back between promising to be ‘gentle’ with his Commander to outright declaring that resistance was futile, and Starscream shot back with threats of murder and dismemberment. All of which didn’t deter Skywarp a bit.

Seeing that the other jet was gaining on him, the Decepticon SIC went as fast as he could to where he was certain he would blow out his thrusters, yet he had to veer over to the side when Skywarp appeared before him via teleportation. He dove upwards, yet found his route blocked by the purple and black Seeker cutting him off via a barrel roll. Starscream went in the opposite direction, yet found himself cut off there as well, Skywarp just barely colliding into him.

“Hey, watch it!!!” he hollered. “You could’ve clipped my vertical stabilizer!!!”

“Then stop flying off and I won’t have to get drastic!” Skywarp shot back, yet inside his alt-mode, he was grinning ear to ear. Or at least he would be if he had any. “Try all you want, I’m not letting up anytime soon!”

“Then you’re going to be doing this for a long time because I have no intention of stop-” Starscream was interrupted by the horrific sight of Skywarp’s body being engulfed with magenta before disappearing from sight.

Oh, Primus. Oh Primus, no! Transforming into his root mode, Starscream looked around, panicking as he found himself surrounded by clear, blue skies, the sun shining high and bright. The intensity of the solar rays blinded him momentarily when he turned in that direction to look for any trace of his pursuer, yet this proved to be a fatal mistake. From beneath, the Seeker was rammed, his subordinate having decided to stay out of his line of sight long enough, and by the time Starscream realized his error, it was too late.

“Aha!!!”Skywarp seized him by the waist and immediately went to work. His servos went in and scrambled along the area he had attacked before, Starscream immediately seizing up and trying to contain the chortles that threatened to spill out of his vocals.

“S-Stop it!!!” Starscream shouted, twisting as much as he could to dislodge himself from the other jet’s hold, yet it seemed that whenever he made a movement, Skywarp just focused on another part of his midsection, the continuous switching of locations making Starscream’s processor be torn between staying still or continuing to writhe around. It was all so confusing and torturous! He was at a loss at what to do! “Stop!!! I-I comma-ha-nd you!!!”

“Hmm...nah.” Skywarp responded, continuing to scramble over the bends and angles of Commander’s midsection.

“I-I’ll kill you!!! Do you hear!? I’ll kill-” Starscream’s voice, unfortunately, chose that time to not cooperate with him. “G-Gah! N-No-hohoho!!! STOP!!!”

“Ah, there you go!” Skywarp congratulated. “Now, was that so hard?”

“Get off!!!” Starscream practically shrieked, both from frustration (and panic), yet also from the sensations that were plaguing his cerebral chamber, sensors lit a fire with horrid tingles and shocks. He only wished that they were of pain. “I-I can’t-'' he then nearly fell out of Skywarp’s arms before he was, unfortunately, caught, the torment continuing. “I can’t stay alo-ha-ft!!!”

“No problem!” Skywarp said, shutting off his thrusters. The two Seekers then began to plummet downwards.

“What in Primus’ name are you doing?! We’ll cra-ah-sh!!!” Starscream hollered, all the while trying to contain himself as Skywarp’s servos still continued to torment him.

As the ground continued to come closer and closer, Starscream braced himself for impact, yet found that it never came, magenta filling his vision before everything around him froze. He wasn’t a stranger to this phenomenon, yet it still perplexed and bewildered him that such an impulsive oaf had such an ability bestowed on him. The times were far and in between, yet whenever it happened, Starscream had gone into the strange dimension between planes of existence with Skywarp when the Seeker teleported both of them. The world looked the same as it had before, yet everything was still and silent. No movement, no sound, nothing. Nothing but their own, as if they were the only things that existed in this small pocket universe.

Then, as quickly as it began, it ended, both Seekers landing on the ground, yet far from at the velocity they were previously traveling at. The landing didn’t mean that Starscream was free, however, the lack of the need to look out below allowed Skywarp to fully focus now on the movements of his servos, which quickly went back to work.

“Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!!!” Starscream commanded, yet he was quickly shut up as giggles threatened to pour out from his vocal processor. He then lifted up his arm in an attempt to, out of desperation, fire his null ray in the other Seeker’s direction, this proved to be yet another fatal error.

Once Skywarp shot his hand underneath to scrape at the cables and joint that linked Starscream’s shoulder and upper arm, he could hold it in no longer.

“Gah!!! Gah-hahahahaha!!!” Starscream released loud and slightly hoarse laughter from his vocals, using his other arm to push back against the other Seeker tickling at his underarm. “S-Stop!!! Stop it!! Sto-hahahaha-p!!!”

“Ha! Gotcha!” Skywarp shouted in triumph, spidering along the red area that rested above his white waist just below the arm joint, this forcing Starscream to retreat into himself and cease his attempts in getting the purple and black Seeker off him. “You’ve got no chance now! Surrender!”

“Hahaha, n-never!!!” Starscream shouted back, trying to turn the opposite way to keep Skywarp away from his side. “Ge-hehehe-t off!!! Get-ah!!!” Skywarp swiped a digit just underneath the area where Starscream’s chest protruded outwards, running the servo along the rim. “Don’t touch me there-AHH!!!”

Skywarp smirked. “Why? Does it tickle?~” he asked oh-so-sweetly. “So you admit you’re ticklish.”

“I admit nothing!!!” Starscream choked in between bouts of involuntary laughter. “I’m not tick-“ he tried to finish but was cut off by more chortles forcing themselves out.

“Then what do you call this? Just a WEE bit of sensitivity?” The purple and black Seeker asked. He stroked and pinched along the SIC’s upper chest region, dipping his hands in the small, square-shaped hollows that rested by his white shoulders, this causing said SIC to try and make another grab at his hands to stop the attack. Unfortunately, Skywarp used this opportunity to dive in under Starscream’s arms and begin scribbling at the joints and cables and whatever other components he could reach. Starscream howled with laughter the moment he felt the wildly moving digits, his arms hugging around himself and clamping themselves down.”Oh great, I’m stuck. Now, what are you gonna do?”

“Wh-Wha-hahaha-t?! You ge-hehe-t them out!!!”

“Can’t exactly do that with you holding my hands down, can I?” Skywarp asked, not letting up in the slightest. “Lift your arms up and I can get free.”

“N-No!!! You’re just gonna-hahaha!!! STOP!!!”

“Hmm...nope.”

Starscream was in, as the humans would say, stitches, his body torn between twisting around and curling up into a ball in a vain attempt to lessen the sensations plaguing him. He knew well that Skywarp would go for the same areas and perhaps others if he lifted up his arms, yet, as he found out, the seams of his underarms were deathly sensitive. It was the equivalent of either having Megatron rip off his limbs versus his fusion cannon blasting him right in the chest. Neither of them was exactly pleasant options. And he didn’t care if he would be called dramatic for making such a comparison! This was torture! He needed this to stop! He HAD to make it stop!

Yet he wouldn’t beg. Not to Skywarp of all mechs. That fool would never get the satisfaction of hearing him grovel for mercy!

And speaking of members of his trine, where in Primus’ name was Thundercracker?! Useless piece of scrap-

“All right, that’s enough!” a voice called out from high above, a blue jet zooming down and transforming, landing a short distance away from his fellow wingmate and Commander. “C’mon, Skywarp, you’re going to kill him.”

“Am not!” Skywarp protested. “I’m just trying to lighten Screamer’s mood here! And from what I’ve seen, my method’s working!

Starscream tried to protest, yet had taken to tightening his lips as much as he could, strained whines coming from in between gritted, grinding dentals. Still, he managed to make out some words (though it was NOT a plea!). “G-Get him off!!! GET HIM OFF!!!”

Thundercracker sighed, crossing his arms. “You heard him. Get off.”

“Aww, do I have to?” Skywarp whined.

“Unless you want a report regarding your insubordination, I’d suggest you do so.”

The purple and black Seeker huffed and begrudgingly stopped moving his hands, Starscream immediately seizing the chance to scramble away, standing up and dusting himself off. Skywarp began to rise as well, yet Starscream pointed one of his cannons in his direction, eyeing his every movement.

“He isn’t going to bother you anymore.” Thundercracker assured.

“I should blast you in the face JUST for what you put me through alone!!!” the Decepticon SIC snarled.

“Hey, I was just trying to get something out of you that wasn’t complaining!” Skywarp countered. “You think you’re the only one that wants to be here on guard duty?”

“I’d much rather be in the company of Megatron at the moment rather than you two!!!”

“Hey, c’mon, that’s enough.” Thundercracker began, trying to cool things down, yet his Commander wasn’t having it.

“I’ve done nothing wrong to even be here!!! I was made Second in Command by Megatron himself!!! And, like it or not, that means I have the full right to question and propose any sort of adjustment or improvement to whatever backward, ridiculous, and foolhardy mission he’s got in mind!!!” Starscream shouted, clenching his blue fists. “And if that’s not enough, he had to stick me with YOU TWO of all bots!!!”

“Hey, c’mon!” Skywarp shot back. “We’re the only ones that can fly besides those damn cone-heads! And Primus knows they won’t put up with your bullshit.”

“I’ve had it up to here with yours!!!” Starscream retorted. “I don’t know why I even continue to allow myself to work with you two!!!” he then pointed to Skywarp. “You are an immature, idiotic thug that has been graced with a power that you clearly do not deserve!!!” he then pointed to Thundercracker. “And you…” Starscream paused. “You...you...well...you didn’t get here fast enough!!! I was under attack by one of my own wingmates, and here you were, lollygagging and taking your sweet time!!!”

Thundercracker was somewhat taken aback. True, this was typical of Starscream, ranting and raving about all the unfairness of the world and how he was slighted by whomever he decided had insulted him, yet the blue Seeker felt a twinge of anger flare up in his spark. “I was TRYING to keep back to make sure you wouldn’t clip a wing or something. You were behaving quite...erratically.”

“That’s no excuse!!!” Starscream countered. “I am your superior, and thus, am your utmost concern!!!”

“I was-”

“No, I’m not done!!!” the other Seeker interrupted. “You know what? You’re just as useless as Skywarp here!!! Only you’ve got no discernable skills or anything spectacular in your arsenal. I lack Skywarp’s little ‘talent’, but I come packed with null rays that can disable and render any machine, Earth or Cybertronian, useless. But you? What, the typical blaster? And such an outdated model too!!! Perhaps even one of the cone-heads would be better suited to be here in comparison to-”

Starscream got out no more before he found himself tackled to the ground. Thundercracker was on top of him and, at a blinding speed, as if in response to the SIC’s remarks regarding his skill and prowess.

“What do you think you’re-” Starscream shouted, yet soon felt his shoulder cannons being removed from his arms. “H-Hey!!! Put those back!!!”

Thundercracker didn’t answer him, continuing his work until his Commander was relieved of his weapons. Then, the blue Seeker delivered a blow to Starscream’s face when the other Decepticon tried to rise. He was disoriented long enough for him to be seized from behind, Thundercracker having ducked his arms underneath Starscream’s own and lifted them up, holding them together with one hand clasping around his wrists, effectively keeping the SIC in place.

“Skywarp,” the blue Seeker began, voice low and emotionless, yet the other members of the trine knew well what such a tone meant when it came to Thundercracker. “He’s all yours.”

Skywarp beamed and made a motion of ‘cracking’ his knuckles (even if he had none). The grin on his face filled Starscream with the utmost dread and fear. “Y-You can’t do this!!!” he protested. “I’m your superior!!!”

“Yes,” Thundercracker responded. “A superior asshole.”

“A superior asshole that’s been getting on my and Cracker’s nerves,” Skywarp said, grinning. Thundercracker despised the nickname the other Seeker had given him, yet at the moment, what was at the forefront of his mind was his Commander’s “disciplinary” session. “And since we’re both done hearing you bitch and moan,” Skywarp raised his servos up, wiggling and making clawing motions with them. “We’re gonna hear you laugh it up instead!”

And then, he went in and continued where he had left off.

Starscream had no chance to brace himself, his focus torn between trying to get Thundercracker off of him and Skywarp’s advances. The purple and black Seeker dove down and traced his servo-tips all over the red and blue Seeker’s chassis, running along the curves and bends, dipping his digits in the vents situated on his chest, and down the midsection where his cockpit was located.

“N-No!!! No-hahahahaha!!! St-Sto-hahaha-p!!! Stop!!! I or-hoho-der you to STOP!!!”

“Not happening.” Skywarp responded, now skittering along the white waist.

“You-hoohoo dare defy an or-hoho-der from your Comma-hahaha-nder!?!”

“If said Commander is being a little bitch, then yes.”

“Th-This is ahahaha-assult on a supe-hehhehe-rior officer!!!”

“Fine then. Stop me.”

Starscream didn’t answer that, knowing well that, despite himself, he was effectively rendered helpless. Thundercracker wasn’t letting him go any time soon, and Skywarp was more than content to keep tickling the ever-living shit out of his Commander. He was completely at their mercy. But he would not surrender. He couldn’t! Not to them! They wouldn’t get one word out of him that was begging for mercy!

At least, that’s what he tried to keep in mind, all the while fighting against said pleas that were forming in his processor.

Skywarp continued to let his servos dance all over Starscream’s upper half, Thundercracker keeping him immobile. The other Seeker’s added weight made struggling difficult and sometimes near impossible, and the maddening sensations made his futile attempts to escape no better. Skywarp had gone for the SIC’s underarms, Starscream’s laughter raising in volume and his struggles increasing, yet Thundercracker held him firm. Skywarp spidered down Starscream’s sides and chest, even tackling the red sections that stood upward on his shoulders. The red and blue Seeker howled with laughter, Thundercracker keeping up his efforts to hold him tight. Despite his current predicament, Starscream could at least take comfort in that the three were clearly alone out here. The only downside to that was that it was Skywarp of all bots doing the torturing! That mech left no inch of his upper body untouched, making sure to give each and every portion of it equal attention. Odd that he would be so precise given how impatient and foolhardy he was.

Having decided that he had explored all he could in that area, the purple and black Seeker shifted his attention to Starscream’s hips, dragging servos along where it connected to his waist and squeezing the sides. The Decepticon SIC continued to release mad cackles from his vocal processor, Skywarp’s servos traveling down to his inner thighs, teasing the joints and cables he could reach. The purple and black Seeker went down the other jet’s legs and reached his knees, swiping servos behind the blocky sections that essentially served as ‘kneecaps’. He even dipped his digits in the vents that rested there.

Starscream was being driven mad, his frantic struggles weakening, though whether it was due to him losing strength or some part of him simply accepting his fate, he was unsure. Regardless, he was reaching his limit and frankly, beginning to lose his mind. “W-Wait!!!” the Seeker got out. “O-hoho-k!!! OK!!! You-hoohoo-’ve had your fun!!! Stop!!!”

“Not yet,” Skywarp said. “I’ve still got a little more of you to tend to.” he then turned to the blue Seeker. “Hold him tight. I gotta feeling this is going to send him over the edge.”

“What do you mean…” Starscream asked, yet trailed off when he saw Skywarp secure his ankles, the undersides of his peds and thrusters completely exposed. Oh no. Oh Primus, no! “W-Wait!!! WAIT!!!” Skywarp and Thundercracker were quite shocked at how loud their captive had gotten, both looking at him with wide, red optics.

Skywarp then smirked. “Oh my,” he glanced at one ped he had in his grasp. “This a particularly sensitive area?” as if to demonstrate, he ran one servo down the length of the side of it, Starscream trembling and straining to keep noises from exiting his throat. “Oh hot damn!” the purple and black Seeker looked to his comrade. “Look at this Cracker! Screamer here’s got sensitive tootsies!”

Tootsies? Was that a human word? Well, whatever. Thundercracker had to strengthen his hold on Starscream, the other Seeker growing even more erratic than before.

“Not there!!!” Starscream finally threw all pride and dignity aside and went to one of his desperate fail-safes: begging. “Please, not there!!! Anywhere but there!!!”

“Why?” Skywarp coyly asked. “Does it tiiiickle~?”

“All right fine!!! Fine, I admit it!!! I’m ticklish, ok!?! There, I said it!!!”

Skywarp stopped his teasing, yet still held Starscream’s ped in his hold. “And?”

“And…” the SIC couldn’t believe he was doing this. Megatron was one thing, but these two? He would NEVER live this down. “And…” he felt a servo place itself on the underside of the ped. “And I’m sorry!!! I’m sorry for everything I said!!! You’re not useless or idiots!!!” Starscream sighed, having gained both of the other jet’s attention. “It’s just...it’s just so frustrating.” He said, lessening his struggles. “Your position means nothing, and whatever contribution you have to give is treated little better than the ramblings of a fool. How nothing you could ever say matters…”

Starscream looked away from both of them for a second, his wingmates quite baffled and confused by what they just heard. True, complaining was one of the hallmarks of their Commander’s personality, yet it was quite a rarity to hear him display such raw honesty with them. It wasn’t a completely alien event, the two having heard these supposedly heartfelt (or in their case, sparkfelt) confessions before, but they were far and in between. Yet whenever they happened, despite their probable better judgment, they listened. And Starscream, even if he didn’t say it outright, acknowledged that they were indeed listening. These moments were always awkward and generally uncomfortable for all three of them, the mood not exactly being positive but oddly calm. And neither Skywarp nor Thundercracker could tell whether these were genuine or not. Their Commander was very much what the humans called a social chameleon. Oh sure, he had his distinguishing traits, yet it seemed that whenever he had to play a certain role (aside from a duplicitous usurper), he usually took it and made it his own. He could have solid strategies and plans, he could be deadly in combat and made use of his airborne advantage well, and when, rarely, Megatron’s plans aligned with his own, he would follow it to a tee. But whether all these were just an act to get what he wanted or a rare display of inner, truthful self (even if partway), neither of the Seekers knew. And in a way, Starscream would probably have it no other way.

Skywarp looked at his partner in crime, then to his victim. “You believe him, Cracker?”

Thundercracker was silent for a moment, Starscream looking up at him with wide, pleading optics. “I don’t know. You know Starscream.”

“Oh, you think so little of me, dear Thundercracker?” The SIC asked, seemingly hurt. “I merely let my own grievances with Megatron affect my sense of professionalism.”

“And?” Skywarp asked. “You sorry for being the King of the Assholes today?”

“King of the...what!?” Starscream began to protest, yet the sensation of Skywarp’s servo kept him in his place. “Yes!!! Yes. Yes, I’m sorry. I apologize. I apologize for everything that’s come from my vocal components.”

The purple and black Seeker looked and Thundercracker and nodded his head. “You know what? I believe him. How about you?” Thundercracker remained silent, yet when his hold was loosening, he noticed Skywarp look at him with a coy, calculating smile. “I think Cracker here forgives you too, Screamer.”

Starscream sighed in relief. “Yes, well...I suppose, as the humans say, to err is, well, human. But to forgive is divine.” He tried to get up, but still, found himself being held tight.

“Hold on there! Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” Skywarp said. “I said I forgive you.” He then placed a servo on the underside of Starscream’s ped and dragged it down, noticing how his Commander’s face tensed up. “I didn’t say anything about letting you go. And neither did Cracker.”

Starscream’s red optics widened in terror, his fate had not been changed. “But...but you said that you forgave me!!! You have to release me!!!”

“And we will,” Thundercracker spoke up. “But, it would be bad form to leave Skywarp’s job unfinished, right?”

“Was that an actual joke from you?” Skywarp asked, genuinely surprised. It was just as, perhaps even rarer than Starscream’s “honest” moments, yet once in a while, the blue Seeker showed he was capable of humor, albeit mostly dry, but still, humor. “And yeah. I’ve only got one more place to cover. So I’d suggest you buck up and take the rest of it like a mech!”

Shit, Starscream thought, a part of him surprised that he had used a human curse. Still, the sentence had been delivered. He was doomed. “N-No, wait!!! You don’t understand!!! I can’t take it there!!! It’s too much!!! You’ll drive me crazy!!!

“Hmm...those are all rather bold claims. But you shouldn’t have told me that.” Skywarp said, eager to start his tickling torment up again. “Because now I’m going to have to see it for myself!”

And thus, Skywarp wasted no time in getting started, Starscream having no chance to maintain any semblance of self-control the moment he felt a servo quickly swipe itself back and forth on his ped. The reaction was immediate, Starscream having no chance to try and even contain himself. Skywarp traced down the entire length of the ped, the red and blue Seeker released loud and slightly hoarse laughter from his vocals, he desperately trying to twist his way out of Thundercracker’s grip.

“Skwarp!!!” Starscream hollered. “Ple-heeheehee-se!!! STOP!!!”

“Oh no, Mr. General Dickweed!” the Seeker answered back. “Forgiveness or no, you’ve been in dire need of an attitude adjustment all day today!”

“I sa-hahaha-id I was so-hohoho-rry!!!”

“And you lied to us about being ticklish. Shame on you!” Skywarp teased, continuing to scribble around on the underside of his Commander’s ped.

Starscream was in absolute hysterics, trying with all his remaining power to break free and escape his torment, yet it seemed that his fate was sealed. He was going to have to stay here and endure the continuous, soft, agonizingly light yet maddening sensations Skywarp’s servos created. Eventually, his struggles ceased, no longer having the energy to fight back. Or maybe, somewhere in his processor, he knew that he was fighting a losing battle and simply relented to those that currently had power over him. Skywarp then ceased tickling the peds, yet Starscream had no time to rest. Despite his hopes, pleas, and prayers (he hadn’t really considered himself a religious bot, yet he was singing praises to Primus at that moment in his head), Skywarp had discovered his Commander’s Achilles Heel. Literally.

“PRIMUS, STOP!!!” the SIC shrieked, living up to his name. Out of all the spots that could’ve been at the mercy (or lack thereof) of Skywarp’s servos, he knew well that one would be enough to make him go crazy. “YOU’RE KI-HIHIHIHI-LLING ME!!! I’M DY-HIHIHIHI-ING!!!”

Skywarp scoffed, yet he found this whole thing hilarious, his servos dancing along the lining of and inside Starscream’s thrusters. “Oh please. If anything, this is a spa treatment compared to what you usually get hit with from Megatron.”

“I’D RA-HAHAHAHA-THER TAKE THAT!!! OH PLEASE!!! PLE-HEEHEEHEE-ASE!!! I CAN’T TAKE ANYMORE!!!”

Thundercracker glanced down at his captive, taking a look at the Seeker’s ever-present smile he had plastered on his features, yet also of how hot he was beginning to feel how warm he was becoming. His internal systems had steadily been heating up from all the exertion of energy, yet the fact Thundercracker could now feel the heat himself signaled to him that Starscream was truly reaching his breaking point.

“Ok, I think that’s enough.”

Skywarp looked up. “Aw, why?”

“Is your processor malfunctioning? Feel how warm he is!” Hmm, now that he thought about it, Starscream DID feel like he was heating up the further along he went. Still...did he have to? “Skywarp!”

“Ok, ok! Fine!” the purple and black Seeker groaned.

Begrudgingly, he ceased the movement of his servos and raised his hands away from Starscream, who was still caught in the throughs of laughter. Yet after a few moments, said laughter began to soften and decrease, the Seeker resting in Thundercracker’s arms mainly because he couldn’t do much else. Despite there being no need to take in oxygen, Starscream was quite appreciative of its abundance, his vents taking it in and filtering out the heat that had been building up.

“Oh, and here you actually had me...going,” Skywarp said, gesturing to Starscream. “See? He’s fine!” The word ‘concerned’ was about to exit from his lips, yet the Seeker kept them back. Like the Pit he was going to say that. Starscream then glared in Skywarp’s direction. “See? Totally fine. He’s already back to his bitchy self.”

“You…” Starscream huffed, sounding as if he were short of breath despite not needing to breathe. “You think you’re VERY clever, don’t you?”

Skywarp shrugged. “On occasion, I like to think so.”

Starscream only narrowed his optics. “The moment I get my strength back up, your termination will be slow and painful.”

Despite this threat, the Seeker wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. “Yeah right. I stopped believing you after the...what was it, the millionth-and-first time you said that?”

“Well...who’s to say I don’t mean it the millionth-and-second time?” Starscream questioned, beginning to reach for his null rays, yet ultimately, had tired himself out too much to even move from where he was. As the human said, screw it.

“Are you all right?”

The Decepticon SIC looked up at Thundercracker. “Oh, so NOW you care about my wellbeing?”

“I stopped him, didn’t I?” The blue Seeker asked, pointing to Skywarp.

“And you’re also the one that restrained and let him torture me.”

“...touche.” he then began to rise. “Come on. On your feet.” he slowly hoisted his Commander up. “You’re still cooling down, so it’d probably be good to wait for a klik or two before you take to the air.”

Starscream didn’t argue with that, yet he went over to retrieve his arm cannons. Skywarp soon found the Commander’s eyes looking straight at him. Yet still, his cannons didn’t fire, though whether because he was too tired to do anything or he actually didn’t have it in him (at least at the moment), to shoot Skywarp was unknown. Yet the result was the same.

“So...now what?” the purple and black Seeker asked.

“What do you mean, now what?” Thundercracker asked. “We go back to our posts! Slag, we shouldn’t even be out here anyway!”

Starscream dusted himself off, trying to straighten out his appearance. “As soon as this is over, I’m punishing both of you.”

Skywarp mockingly gasped. “Aw, why?”

“Why?! You know slagging good why!!!” Starscream responded. “And by the time I’m done with you, a session with Megatron himself will sound exceptionally pleasant in comparison!!!”

“Oooh, that’s pretty big talk, Screamer.” Skywarp chuckled. “And just how are you going to do it?”

Starscream didn’t exactly care for how close the other Seeker was. “I...I’ll find a way. I’ll find several.”

“Of course, you do realize you’re not the only one with an advantage, you know?” And before Starscream could ask, he felt a poke in his side, the red and blue Seeker recoiling from the touch. “Y’know, I can’t help but wonder how the guys would react to this when I tell them.”

Both Starscream and Thundercracker were taken aback by what Skywarp had just said. “Why would you tell anybody?” Starscream asked.

“Because it’s adorably precious and funny.” The Seeker answered.

“You had better not!!!” Starscream ordered. “Or I’ll make your punishment even worse than Thundercracker’s!!! I’ll…” he then went over and fell at Skywarp’s feet. “Please don’t tell anyone. Please. I’m begging you.”

“Relax, he’s not going to tell,” Thundercracker assured his Commander. “Right, Skywarp?”

Skywarp folded his arms. “Only if Screamer takes back his punishment threats.”

Starscream relented. “Ok, yes. Fine. No discipline. Ok?”

The Seeker smiled. “And since you’re feeling so cooperative, I’ve been meaning to ask you some...stuff.”

Starscream did NOT like the sound of that. “What kind of...stuff??”

“Well, c’mon.” Before he knew it, the Air Commander found his trine-mate’s arm slung around his shoulder as if he were a long-time friend. “We can discuss it on the way back to the space bridge.”

Starscream groaned, not liking where this was going at all.

Thundercracker only looked on, still trying to swallow everything that had happened. Suffice to say, he found himself feeling rather...odd about it. And he could tell Starscream held this sentiment as well. Truly, it sounded unreal: he had just held down their superior while his wingmate tickled him into near insanity. Had he not seen it himself, let alone participated in it, he wouldn’t have believed it. Frankly, he was beginning to feel quite embarrassed about how he had sunk so low to be involved in something so childish, but…

“Oh, come on! It wasn’t that bad!” The blue Seeker heard Skywarp say. “You were smiling the whole time!”

“Yes, against my will!!!!” Starscream retorted, folding his arms and, for lack of a better word, pouting.

“But don’t you feel just a little bit better?”

Starscream’s red optics widened. “No! It-“ had he been human, he would’ve been red as a tomato. Odd how the meatbag’s skin changed at just the slightest amount of extreme emotion. “Hmph!!! Well...I’m not talking to you right now!!! Or in the next few Earth hours. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or-“ he was interrupted by a poke, unprepared to contain the giggle that slipped out. “Do that again, and I WILL blast you this time.” He threatened.

“That makes a millionth-and-three.” Skywarp answered, unfazed.

Thundercracker continued to watch the two Seekers argue and banter with each other, noticing that, even if he would swear to Primus Himself that it wasn’t the case, since his tickling session, Starscream seemed...less irritable?

“Well, maybe that’ll be the lucky number. What’s that human saying again? Third time’s the charm?”

“I don’t think they have plus a million in there though.” Skywarp chuckled, Starscream huffing.

“Shut up.”

Thundercracker could only speculate. One could never tell with Starscream. But from watching him, he had a vague idea of what was going in his processor. And that he’d keep it a secret from everyone.

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

Melting Wax, Crawling Vines: Part 4 (Vincent Sinclair x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: mild cursing, paranoia/anxiety

Word Count: 3062

We love exposition in this house

Vincent had only seen you for a few moments. You'd been carried in by his brother, Bo. He'd placed you on the couch, and, naturally, Vincent had peaked out from upstairs to investigate. He thought that perhaps you were someone to add to their collection, or a new toy for Bo to mess with. Bo, usually, kept the pretty ones like yourself to himself. His twin was good at charm, good at smooth talking almost anyone. And he was good at not caring about whether or not they wanted to be kept. When he saw the way he'd laid your head carefully back on the pillow, a million thoughts were going through his head. 

Bo usually took any outsiders to the basement underneath the auto shop. But here you were, being gingerly placed on their living room couch. He reached for one of the knives at his hip just before Bo was heading straight for him. He relaxed his hand, letting it sink back into the hilt. Bo had explained quickly and quietly. 

They were going to keep you for him . Vincent had stared at him with one blue eye, gratitude and surprise filling it. Never before, not even technically with the wax figures, had they had someone who was for him. The wax town was their mothers dream. 

He'd stared at you, peeking around the corner to take in your unconscious form. You had piqued his interest completely, even if he knew your sleeping form would soon contort into horror and screaming. That the peace would leave your features the second you realized they didn't intend on letting you leave Ambrose. 

Bo had to snap in his face to make sure he was listening, make sure that he understood that you were going to be his teacher. Not one of his wax figures. He'd nodded. He wasn't stupid, but his brother seemed to forget that sometimes. Bo hadn't had time to explain much more, as you'd started to stir.

"Go on, get. Stay out of sight." Bo told him, and Vincent had reluctantly retreated out of sight and back down to the depths of his work shop. As he returned to the wax figure in the center of his room, his head was now filled with distracting noise as he tried to force himself to focus. He wanted to know more about you. You were the only new face that he would see and not become wax. The mysterious figure laying on their couch. 

Eventually, he found himself listening in the middle of the hallway, leaning against the wall as he heard your voice filter through the house. He listened to your story, finding that it didn't sound too different than something their victims would describe. But that one thing you'd said struck him, and he knew it probably struck his brothers just the same. I should've killed that sonovabitch , you'd said. The Sinclair brothers had long ago made their peace with what happened inside of this town. Perhaps, eventually, you would be able to make peace with it too with an attitude like that. It could take awhile, but the brothers would have time. However, when you agreed to stay, a strange feeling of relief had crept into his chest and he'd finally been able to force himself back down to his workshop.

***

It didn't take long for the three of you to part ways. You'd called your apartment complex, letting the woman that worked the front desk know that someone was going to pick up your storage unit for you. When she'd asked why, you'd told her that you just didn't feel comfortable parting with it for an entire night. When she tried to insist that it'd be safe, you cut her off and told her to expect him. You didn't mean to be rude, but you hardly had the patience to argue with her knowing that your ex could be there any minute. Lester had offered to take the longer drive, as he'd said he knew where the town was anyways. So, it was up to you to show Bo where you'd left your car.

You leaned with your head against the window of the tow-truck, secretly relieved that Lester hadn't suggested you come to get the unit with him. You wouldn't be able to stomach the anxiety that trip would've induced, and it was nice to ride in a car that smelled like motor oil and grease instead of roadkill. Bo smoked, one hand resting out the window and the other on the wheel as the Louisiana heat competed with the a/c inside the tow truck. You looked over, watching as Bo brought the cigarette to his lips. He looked over at you, catching your stare and smiling to himself. You looked away, shyness and embarrassment filling you from having been caught.

"So," Bo started. He paused for a moment. "This might be a little too much to ask, and I don't mean to offend." You turned your head back to him, arching a brow to show that you were listening. "Which one of you was older?" He asked, and you stared at him in confusion for a moment before you realized what he was asking. It wasn't what you were expecting, you'd give him that. Given his flirting nature, you'd expected a much different question. Instead, you ran a hand through your hair and softly said,

"She was." You smiled to yourself for a moment, turning to look out the windshield before you added, "By ten minutes. She always used to joke about having to wait for me for everything." And Bo smiled at that as well. You watched him take another drag of the cigarette, changing his grip on the wheel, before he said,

"I'm the oldest," And you found yourself looking at him over in surprise. You didn't know he had any siblings. Well, you figured you could blame that on the fact that you'd only met him that day. "Born less than a minute before my brother, Vincent." And your eyebrows shot up. The news that he had siblings and that he was a twin surprised you.

"I didn't see him back at the house." You commented, trailing off. You wondered when you'd get to meet him, and hoped he wouldn't mind your intrusion. You were going to be staying with them, after all.

"Oh, he's just shy. Stays mostly to himself." He said, and you nodded. But the news didn't stop you from biting at your lip. You didn't want to cause any waves between the brothers, especially because you were sure that Bo hadn't asked Vincent before he offered to let you stay. You bit at your thumb, and Bo looked over to arch a brow at you. You pulled it from you mouth, realizing that he must've noticed the anxious habit. His brow lift was questioning, and you could guess what he wanted to know.

"Vincent," You paused. "Vincent won't mind me staying with you, will he?" You asked, and you watched the way he broke out into a grin. He laughed to himself, taking a drag of his cigarette. 

"Is that what you're worried about? No, no. Vincent won't mind a bit. Having someone as pretty as you around the house? He won't mind at all." He said, and you had to turn away to hide the smile creeping up your face. You shook your head lightly, choosing to ignore his flirting remarks. You looked out, pointing down the road. You didn't even need to say anything, as Bo was already remarking, "I see it." And stopping in the road before making a three point turn. You were relieved from the sight of your car, and to see that it hadn't been stripped or broken into.

You'd gotten out with the intent to help Bo, but, just like Lester, you thought you were slowing him down if anything. Eventually, you just ended up sitting on the hood of your car and eating a bag of chips that you'd packed for the ride. You offered him some, and he took off his cap to wipe his brow before he took the bag. He'd hooked your car up, and now all he needed to do was lift it to tow it back to Ambrose. He chewed for a moment, before he said,

"So, Lester told me you teach sign language, right?" And you were quick to nod. That you did. You wondered where this was going, but Bo didn't keep you in suspense. He was just like Lester in the way that he wasn't one for long silences. "Well, my brother, he," He rubbed his face, as if he might not know how to put this. Or maybe he was debating how much he should tell you. "He's got a facial deformity. Wears a mask to cover it up. Bit of a freak. Might scare a little lady like yourself." He said with a laugh, looking as though he expected you to laugh with him. You didn't. You didn't like the use of that word, but you didn't say anything and waited for him to get to the point. "Anyways, he can't speak too good because of it. Since you said you wouldn't be able to pay for your car, do you think you could teach him?" He adjusted his stance, and the look he gave you already told you that he expected you to accept. Truthfully, you couldn't find a single reason as to why you'd refuse.

"Of course. I've- I've taught adults, and I'll try to teach him as much as I can before I leave. And, well, you'll probably need to take lessons too so you can understand him." And Bo nodded along with that, even if he looked away and seemed reluctant with the idea. He didn't seem like the type to particularly enjoy school, but he agreed nonetheless.

"Sure, sure. Well, we can start tomorrow if that's alright with you." And you gave him a nod. It seemed like the best idea to you too. "Alright, well, if you don't need anything else then let's go." He said, rapping his knuckles against the hood of the car and passing the bag of chips back to you. You threw it back into your car, before you were shutting the door. As the pair of you each walked to your respective sides, he asked, "You hungry?" And after you replied,

"I could eat." It didn't take long for the pair of you to decide to get something for dinner. It'd been about a fifteen minute drive, and, even if it wasn't the town you were moving into, you were still nervous about the potential idea of your ex finding you. So, you stuck to Bo like glue, practically hiding behind him every time you saw someone who looked a little too much like your ex. You'd gotten a couple of pizzas. By a couple, you meant that you'd gotten three large pies. At first, you didn't even know how the two of you were supposed to finish them until you went back to Bo's house and watched him devour over half a pizza by himself. You'd eaten two slices, and you almost thought that Bo would've finished yours as well if you hadn't been there. The pair of you had been watching TV, eating, drinking, and waiting for Lester to return. It took less than an hour for his truck to pull up, your storage unit attached to it. Lester walked inside the place like he lived there, and Bo simply said,

"There's pizza in the kitchen." Before Lester was heading that direction. He came back with two slices on a plate, and suddenly the three pies made a little bit more sense. He sat in-between you and Bo and asked,

"What're we watchin'?" Right before he stuffed his face full of a slice. After a full episode of whatever Bo put on and several slices of pizza later, you figured there had to be some sort of relation between the two of them. Their mannerisms were too similar, and they were just too comfortable with eachother not to be related. You figured they were cousins, maybe even brothers. The thought of brothers brought the mysterious Vincent back into your mind, and you wondered where the third of their little family may be. Soon, Lester was wiping his face and asking, "So, do you need help unpacking?" And you realized that you hadn't talked about your sleeping arrangements yet.

"Oh, do you have a guest bedroom?" You asked, but Bo shook his head as he pried a beer bottle from his lips.

"Nah, you'll take Vincent's room." And you were flustered by the bluntness of the statement. You quickly shook your hand out in front of you, saying,

"Oh, I couldn't." Earning a glance from the brunette. With the way he looked at you, you guessed he wasn't used to being argued with. Quickly, you explained. "I mean, won't Vincent mind?" Being in his house, taking his room. You knew you would. Bo chuckled, seeming amused by your statement.

"He won't. He barely uses it." And you bit your lip. You looked between the two of them, before giving Lester a shrug.

"Sure then." You said, and Lester took your plate to take to the kitchen after giving you a smile. You'd only needed one of your suitcases, really, but you searched for a box to carry to make yourself feel a little less bad about Lester carrying the suitcase. You heard the door open, and Bo announced that he was gonna head down to town to finish up some things. You'd watched him leave for a moment, before you went back into the unit and found the box you were looking for. 

You didn't know how long you were going to be in Ambrose, and you didn't imagine there'd be much space in Vincent's room. But, as Bo had eluded, it was practically empty. There was a dresser, a pre-made bed, a bedside table, a mirror on the wall, a rug on the floor, and that was about it. Lester had carried your suitcase for you, and you set your backpack on the bed. You looked over at him, telling him, 

"The bed is fine." And you watched as he lifted it up onto the bed. You opened the box, revealing the contents inside. It was mostly books and folders, but there were two picture frames inside. One was a family photo when you were young, one with both of your parents. The other was a more recent one of you and your sister. You didn't look at either of them long, and went to set them on the bedside table. Lester looked over your shoulder, glancing at the pictures. 

"That your sister?" He asked, and you gave him a nod as you went to unzip the suitcase. Luckily, you'd stored your unmentionables in the pocket on the top, so you didn't have to worry about Lester seeing anything you didn't want him to.

"Yeah. We were identical." You told him, and pulled out some of your shirts. You went to the dresser, pulling out a drawer. You weren't surprised when you saw it was empty, and you tucked your clothes inside. You knew Lester was just looking for a topic of conversation, but you didn't feel like lingering on your sister. So, instead, you asked, "Anything fun to do around here? The house of wax any good?" And you watched as he chuckled and nodded,

"Yeah, Vincent's a hell of an artist. It was our mothers originally though," And your ears perked at his words. So, they were related. He was biting at his nails, and you hummed. 

"I'll have to check it out- If that's alright with Vincent." You quickly added the last part. At this rate, you weren't sure Vincent was going to end up liking you. You didn't want to intrude any further. You turned your head for a second, hearing a creak of a floorboard. Lester, however, was quick to steal back your attention.

"Nah, Vincent won't mind." And your attention was stolen from the sound. You looked back at him, not quite sure if you wanted to take his word. You took out some of the books, placing them on top of the dresser. If not to just give yourself something to do. "That house of wax though, that was our mothers pride and joy. She had big ideas for this town." And you hummed. You bet that she did, but you guessed the same thing happened to Ambrose as every other small town. The interstate. You arranged your books on the dresser, a question burning in the back of your mind.

"Any idea when I'll meet him?" You asked, looking over your shoulder at the man. He grinned, chuckling to himself as his eyes flashed to the wall. Just for a moment, almost too quick for you to notice.

"Soon, you'll meet him soon." He'd said, and you found his words strangely cryptic. But, you resigned yourself to the fact that your first meeting probably wouldn't be until your first class. And, while you could've sworn you heard footsteps, you blamed that on your mind playing tricks on you. 

Seeing that you seemed to have everything handled, Lester excused himself. You'd invited him to the lessons before he left, and he'd accepted before he said goodnight. You'd smiled to yourself, hearing the door click as Lester shut the door behind him. You finished packing away your things, before you decided to shrug off your clothes and change into your pajamas. Even if your bedtime was far away, you thought you'd be more comfortable. You pulled your suitcase off the bed, kicking it under it before you climbed on top. It felt a little weird to be sitting on top of someone else's blanket and sheets, but you'd forgotten your set in your car. You pulled some of the folders out of the box, taking out the ones that were filled with the lesson plans for your adult class. All you really had to do was shorten the class size. You let your evening pass by as you began prepping for the next night.

[eremiie]

i saw this post here and just wanted to dissect everything lmao

aot 139 spoilers 

“Eren admits that he literally killed 80% of the world’s population, he then says he only did it so it would look like eldians stopped a threat”

eren admit to killing 80% of the population bc he did... he’s admitting to what he did, and he says that he wanted to paint them to be the heroes— but not only did he do that, he ended the curse of ymir and gained freedom for his people. it wasn’t just to paint them as heroes

“He also did it so the rest of the world couldnt murder them”

he didn’t “also” do it for that reason, it was an effect, the rumbling ended up killing so many people that they can’t wage war on the eldians like eren says, it keeps them a little safe which they needed especially since some of humanity knows that paradis is what started the rumbling. it’s a cause and effect type thing. because eren killed 80% of the population that remaining population won’t be able to retaliate and try to kill the eldians since there are so little of them

the tybur family is treated like some of martyr and apparently pulling the strings which led to the deaths of millions of innocent eldians was actually a GOOD thing

this scene was interpreted wrong, armin says “...so you want us to be like the tyburs after the great titan war? we’re supposed to protect paradis from reprisal from humanity outside the walls?” he’s asking eren if that’s what they’re gonna do, he never says it’s a good thing. then that’s when eren explains that either way so much of humanity is destroyed that they wouldn’t be able to retaliate if they wanted to

Armin THANKS him for it

armin thanks eren for doing what he did to free them. not thanking eren for for mass murder period. it’s because of eren that the curse is lifted and that they are free and that’s what armin’s thanking eren for. mass murder is inexcusable, and eren knows that. that’s why after he panics and goes “but i dont want to die!” he comes to a realization that all the people he killed didn’t want to either, that the only way to atone for his sins is by dying himself. even if he didn’t die he would’ve probably been executed, or imprisoned for the rest of the life. just like in mikasa’s ova, “eren’s death is inevitable, no matter what reality you go to eren will always die because he carries death within himself.” 

in another translation of the chapter armin thanks eren for being the bad guy so that they could win. he knows what eren did was bad. he’s not excusing it, he just understands why eren had to do it and that eren had no choice if he wanted them to be free. 

from the get go freedom was one of the themes of eren’s character. if eren lived the whole entire world would be ruins and eren would’ve been even sadder than now, there would be nobody and it would’ve been worse than it is now. eren killing everyone was definitely not the ending to go. the ending we have could’ve been executed differently, sure, but in my eyes since i get the gist i think isa did an amazing job portraying what he had in mind. 

“Armin is more upset with Eren saying he doesnt know how he feels about Mikasa moving on than mass genocide”

once again, armin isn’t all that upset with eren because he understands that eren had a path laid out for him that he had no choice to follow. the point of eren committing mass genocide keeps getting brought up as if it’s not know that mass genocide is a terrible thing. it is and that’s why everyone was so angry about it from the get go, that’s why that one plan of blackmailing humanity with the rumbling and not actually go through with it was brought up once— because they knew how cruel it is. armin knew how cruel it is as i believe it was him who brought that up

he’s upset with eren about mikasa’s feelings in like a banter kind of way. it’s like “this whole entire time this is how you felt but you couldn’t tell her that and let her suffer???? don’t forget what you said to her, she went through hell!” kind of thing. they had already talked about the whole mass genocide thing, mikasa was the next topic of discussion

“Eren then finally shows some fucking emotion and cries abt how he doesn’t want mikasa to be with anyone but him”

in another post i say, "okay so first i think the issue is that a lot of people fail to realize that the way eren acted all throughout season 4 isn’t eren really, that is him putting his emotions at bay so that he can complete something that he laid out for himself for his friends.eren from season 1-3 still exists, and that’s lowkey the eren that was talking the whole time in chapter 139— you can see the how he cares for his friends, you can see the desperation again, the compassion, everything in between.” 

eren is still that s1-3 eren, season 4 eren just had to put his emotions aside so he could walk on the path that ymir put in front of him. 

him crying over mikasa was one of his selfish desires coming to light, and it was realistic. it’s finally dawning on him that he’s gonna die, he’s finally getting to sit down and ponder about mikasa, he’s getting desperate, he’s panicking, and that compassion that he’s always had for his friends is showing through again. this gives realism to his character— it makes his character all the more human. one second he’s complaining about how he doesn’t want to die and wants to be with his friends bc its crashing on him, and the very next second he’s trying to be at peace with himself, realising that the only way to atone for what he caused is by dying. one second he’s complaining about how he wants miksa to be with anyone but him, the next second he’s coming to terms with himself and that mikasa needs to move on, because he loves her and wants her to live a long and happy life even if it means without him. the selfishness that showed for that mere second makes his character realistic. it shows that he’s still whiny, that little whiny angry boy from s1-3. he was never heartless and he was never cold. he was and is still eren jaeger, and you get a glimpse of the eren we know in that scene.

The founder ymir was apparently in love with the king???? another women stupidly devoted to a man, great.

i’m not too in depth with ymirs story so im not gonna speak too much about this because i myself do wish that whole love thingy went more into depth. i get how mikasa and ymir parallel each other, but other than that i’m not too sure myself, and i’ll admit that. it could be a case of stockholm syndrome, it could be that bc ymir was infatuated with living and she was confined to such a familial role she wanted to live in that role again with the king bc he’s the only person who gave her that familial lifestyle. i’m not sure. but if anything mikasa was im pretty sure the only character “devoted” to a man in aot. and it was because of the role eren played in her life, she’s not a bad written character, she has her developement. which i explain here

apparently mikasa’s unhealthy devotion to eren is what took her out of it????? in fact the series overly romanticizes mikasa’s love for eren despite the two having no chemistry and eren being an ass to her

in a sense, but that’s a simple minded way of saying it. ymir’s devotion to king fritz was unhealthy, eren describes it as “agony of love” because it was pretty unhealthy obvi. like i said ymir and mikasa parallel each other, and seeing mikasa be able to let go and kill the one she loves was that realization for ymir that she was able to do the same thing— that’s how i interpret that scene personally.

and in mikasa doing so, killing eren lifts that curse of ymir and frees ymir regardless, so ymir was happy about that as well. thanks to mikasa for cutting eren’s head off. 

the series doesn’t necessarily over romanticize mikasa’s love for eren in my opinion. how i see it is that since eren is a big part of mikasa’s character he was necessary for her development as well, and her development was to let eren go because of how infatuated she was with him. this being said the series points out how unhealthy the way she loved him was especially in s1-3, and her love becomes more healthy when she gets her development in chap 139, finally being able to let eren go and move on. compare that to in the s1 when eren almost dies and she’s ready to die as well. thats development if you ask me. 

one of the themes of the show is sacrifice, and almost every character has made one, mikasa sacrifices eren— she kills him and she chooses to go through with that decision despite how much she loves him. 

eren was definitely mean to mikasa in s1-3 because she was overbearing, and thats one reason why i say the way she loved him was unhealthy at first. eren wasn’t able to reciprocate her love in the way that she loved him because it wasn’t healthy. eren also wasn’t able to reciprocate it because the last thing he was focused on was the concept of love. once again he had a path laid out for him that he had no choice but to follow, and mikasa didn’t have any play in this path until the very end, so the boy who keeps moving forward does just that and doesn’t pay her much mind, doesn’t get to sit down and think about his feelings for her, what she is to him.

(and i dont think i even need to explain the “mikasa i’ve always hated you seen, the chapter covers that enough)

they do have chemistry time to time, the eren v dina fritz scene, the scarf scene, “what am i to you”, little stuff like that goes into play and gives them these little sparks of chemistry. they couldn’t always grasp onto the full scope of the relationship they had and it was only some times they were able to do that with everything going on.

apparently the titans are just gone now….??? i cant even tell if its because Eren died or because Mikasa really made Ymir calm down

... eren controlling rumbling, eren dies rumbling stops, ymir finally lifts curse bc 1) eren died 2) shes able to come to realization that like mikasa lets eren go, she needs to let fritz go and the curse go. ymir lifts curse, eren’s goal is complete, if titan curse is lifted there are no more titans

Characters who murdered thousands and were the cause for AOT’s entire plot in the first place are now treated as heroes to the eldians… despite the shit that they did.

everyone in aot did some “shit” they all are murders, eren commited mass genocide, reiner commited mass murder, annie murdered so many people, reiner, armin destroyed thousands of people in one go, they all have killed somebody. they are seen as “heros” because they stopped the rumbling that was going to kill everyone else...... idk about you but if you just saved me from a horrid death, my racist opinion on you doesn’t really matter because you just saved my fucking life lmao, yes despite the shit that you did— because they have killed people too, and they were ready to kill the eldians still until armin told them that they killed eren, that they saved their lives and eliminated titans for good.... like whew???

the series went from “The military is cool” to “the military did a lot of fucked up shit” to “the military is SUPER cool”, and buffed it up

i’m not really sure where you got that tbh,, like the military wasn’t really a big thing up until the whole marleyan thing??? and they didn’t have much plot in the story besides it existing so like i’m not sure what to say ab this, i can’t really remember many times the military was even mentioned until now, but if anyone wants to elaborate on this for me that’d be nice

oh and they buffed up the military because since paradis had eren jaeger who started the rumbling, just in case, they had to be ready to fight again if the rest of humanity wanted to do something. after marley they updated all their technology, why can’t they update the military as well? it’s realistic, new weapons, new military, and all that

The military was buffed up bc the eldians are scared of the rest of the world retaliating, so Eren didn’t really fix shit except giving the Eldians an upper hand in the war

eren jaeger was the one who always screamed “i will kill all titans, we will get freedom” ya de ya de ya.... didn’t he do both of those things????? i thought those were some of his main goals as a character, he fixed those issues, the issues that have been issues since the start of the show

the rest of humanity don’t know the full scope like the eldians or marleyans, they’re probably just as scared and like in real life not all nations are at peace with one another. this is just another realistic factor— attack on titan is becoming a world closest to the real one we live in, there are militaries, there are still conflicts, there is still all these little aspects that bring the manga even more to life.

in my opinion it’d lowkey be weird if the rest of the world was just like “oh yeah those mfs that started the rumbling we love them haha” no... it killed 80% of the population like eren said... that’s not something to love.

Historia has a really disturbing speech about how the fight isnt going to end until either the Eldians or the rest of the world are exterminated, despite Gabi has an entire arc about her being deradicalized and learning to see the other side of things.

and yes i am not kidding, the heroic conclusion is that there’s still going to be a war, eldians are going to commit mass genocide (which was proposed by eren) and people straight up thank eren for the evil shit he did.

“this fight will not end until either eldia or the world dissapears. this is what eren said and he may be right.” she doesn’t say that it’s for sure gonna be a fight until one or the other is wiped out, she says there’s a possibility of this being the case because of the fact that these nations aren’t at complete peace yet. 

not everyone is gonna be able to see the other side of things, and this applies to the whole word— us as humans will never be able to agree on one thing, and that’s what this shows. no matter what the cycle of hatred will always continue, and this applies to real life and this manga. we are human beings and that’s what makes what historia says even more real. “this is the world we live in, a world without titans.” titans are no longer their conflict. now it’s only like the real word— humans against humans, and as far as humanity existed it’s always been humans against humans. historia’s speech shows that.

the heroic conclusion is that as a human race nothing will always be agreed upon, eldians are going to fight if they need to like our military fights when they need to. people are thanking eren for freeing them and ending the curse of titans that they suffered with for 2000 years. nobody’s thanking him for his actions of mass genocide, they are thanking him for the motive behind his actions, and thats what makes him so heroic.

that he endured and did something so terrible so that anybody who lives after him can be free, and humanity can continue existing as humanity should’ve existed from the beginning.

and that concludes this for me, thanks for reading<3.

[ktheist]

02 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1.9k

➙ warnings. explicit content. oral (f receiving).

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05  | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis. 

“can we have morning sex?”

“not today.”

x

“is that my brother’s shirt?” is the first thing kim taehyung says to you after a whole night of you declaring war against him for choosing his girlfriend over you.

your body clock’s designed in a way where no matter how late you go to sleep, you’ll always wake up at 8 in the morning. the question of whether you can go back to bed or not varies. like right now, when your stomach is grumbling because it’s decided to deem that the spicy carbonara ramen you had has lost its sustaining-abilities.

“uh, is that a woman-choosing, best friend-abandoning human i see?” you say, eyes squinted at said human.

“whatever,” that seems to have taken taehyung’s interest off the creme colored sweater hanging off your shoulders and way past your butt. you could’ve not word shorts when you went out to get yourself a bowl of cereal. mainly because the brothers have a similar habit of sleeping in until the sun’s shining directly into their faces and they’d have no choice but to wake up - that is, in the event that they forgot to shut the blinds.

“what are you doing up anyway?” you ask but it’s a no-brainer because every friday night, kim taehyung and you would never fail to release a week’s worth of pent up frustrations over playing video games until the crack of dawn, “don’t tell me you haven’t slept.”

“unlike some people, i’ve got things to do,” he steals away the bowl of cereal you just finished preparing for yourself, “places to be.”

you can’t even get mad at his brazenness, not when those eyebags make him look like he’ll pass out with one swing of your punch. and you do punch like a girl - besides the fact that you are one, it’s already a settled fact that you’re really not fond of the idea of wasting your energy on something pointless - so you tend to give the least amount of energy for, for instance - if you do choose to - punching kim taehyung who’s walking away with your bowl of cereal.

so you fix yourself a new bowl, savoring it while watching an episode of the tale of nine-tailed and spending the entire morning catching up to the latest episode. it’s only until half an hour past noon, do you strut back into seokjin’s room, noticing the lump under the sheets now shifting with a sign of wakefulness.

“morning!” you greet, hearing the sound of hymns trickling into chuckles as seokjin pushes the sheet off his face and steals a glance at the uncalled for being that’s perched on top of him.

“you’re up early,” he remarks, arms stretched over his head, muscles flexing deliciously.

“can we have morning sex?” you put on your best smile, lashes fluttering in what you hope to be a coquettish manner rather than someone who looks like they have dust in both their eyes.

“not today,” he says but his large hand latches on your right breast, massaging with a expertise before pinching on your nipple and making you jump in surprise.

“ah!”

but before you get to complain, he’s pulling you down and engulfing you into a warm but shirtless hug (on his part at least).

“not fair,” you pout but snuggle closer anyway, forehead leaning against his chest.

but it’s short-lived because thunderous footsteps start echoing in the hallway and sounding dangerously close with each passing second. for a split second, you watch seokjin watch you, panic spreading across his face before your hands instinctively push him away. then the panic dissolves into alarm as he calls your name, accompanied by another timber-like voice that’s shouting out the same syllables.

“___!”

and then your butt hits the ground, then your back and your head at the same time.

“whew chile, that sounds painful, you okay?” taehyung sounds concern, but he doesn’t take any step towards you to further assert your head - you could’ve had a concussion for all he knows!

“um, gee thanks for making sure,” you want to roll your eyes, but you’re too busy rubbing the spot where your head made contact with the floor.

but seokjin, ever the thoughtful person, is already climing over the bed and pulling you up with one heave.

“why are you shirtless?” taehyung suddenly inquires.

 the cozy creme sweater clinging onto your body feeling immensely inadequate as you ice up. he looks between you and his brother, screws twisting in that head of his before he asks another question.

“is that really my brother’s shirt?” his eyes scream concluded assumption.

well, it’s true, but-

“would you give me your sweater if i said i was cold?” you don’t give him a chance to respond, “no. right. so shut up. what do you want anyway? hurry up cause i wanna take a nap.”

“let’s play, the squad wanna go one more round with you before we all go to sleep,” he says, the matter of why seokjin is shirtless or if it’s really said man’s shirt you’re wearing now no longer a matter of importance.

you like how his brain works.

“the fuck? you came all the way here just for that?” you narrow your eyes, as if visually asking him if he knows whether he’s making sense or not but you get up anyway, walking towards your laptop that’s perched on the desk where you left it last night.

your friends greet you with less enthusiasm than they did last night - everyone sounded like they either need sleep or need a fuck. there’s no clear answer to what they need but you guess you’re up for one game.

“alright losers, let’s geddit.” your cheer is met with groans and tired version of ‘wooo’s and ‘yeah’s.

five minutes into the game, you feel a peck on your cheek and a smiling kim seokjin gazing down at you with bed hair and puffy cheeks. the smile you offer him back is fleeting because you have a character to maintain and a team to support. this time, you choose the supporting role while hoseok takes on the fighter role.

once you realize that the figure casting a shadow over you remains still and unmoving, you peek up at him for the briefest seconds to ask ‘what?’.

you’re only met with a higher tug of his lips.

and then he falls down on his knee - and you don’t even have the chance to wrap your head around it when he grabs hold of your ankle and spread your legs apart. lifting your ass up as he pulls down your shorts seem to be a muscle response than your brain actually understanding what’s happening. but by the time it does, seokjin’s face is already buried deep between your thighs.

“wah- yikes!” you manage to divert your surprise to the enemy that came on screen, forcing out a laugh, “th-that was a close one, whew i was about to die.”

“the fuck? you already had 8 hours of sleep what are you messing up for?” taehyung says into your headphone.

seokjin licking a strip up your love nub.

but that doesn’t stop you from retorting, “oh my god, did i tell you to play all night and not sl- sleep?” you bite back, barely managing to end your sentence with a consistent amount of sarcasm when the tip of seokjin’s tongue slips into your entrance.

“okay, okay, we’re all a little sensitive here,” jeongguk, the most competitive and non-losing-accepting out of the five of you actually tries to placate.

oh, you’re sensitive alright.

then he says something about how “we’re a team” and “if you wanna fight, fight the enemy team.” or something. you’re not so sure because you’re too busy clasping your hand against your mouth whilst trying to dish out healing powers to your team that’s fighting a few feet in front of you as seokjin tugs on your thighs, positioning them in an angle where his tongue can reach deeper inside you, so much so that your ass is almost hanging off the air.

“fine,” you almost choke on your supposedly vindictive reply as your toes begin to curl, back arching as the only sound that manages to escape you is a sob-like whimper whilst sparks erupt from the depth of your stomach and course through your veins like sweet, sweet poison.

seokjin kisses the inside of your thigh once your breathing slows down and you’re slumping on the chair like you have no energy left in you. jimin’s voice demanding you to cover for him barely registering in your brain as you click an ability that showers him with a protection spell.

“sorry, got distracted,” you say into the mic simply before hearing jimin’s “it’s okay, nobody died.”

literally.

if anyone of you died, it would’ve definitely been on you. last night, you got away with saying you weren’t in your ‘zone’ but today, your underperformance will be the reason you get kicked out of the squad for good. probably.

and because you’re under fire, you can’t stop seokjin when he slips away and out of the room, leaving you to make up for your mini blunder.

the game lasts a good 20 minutes before the golden symbol of victory flash across your screen and more energetic sheers erupt in your headphones. everyone starts bidding each other farewell and ‘good night losers’s before the headphones go quiet.

only then, do you bound down the hallway and into the kitchen where you know the reason of the sizzling, salivating scent is because of kim seokjin. a still shirtless kim seokjin with his beautiful, broad back on you as he chops something on the chopping board and gracefully pours it into whatever he’s cooking.

“that wasn’t fair - you should at least give me a warning,” you stand with your arms crossed over your chest.

“did the enemy you go against give you a warning before ambushing you?” he asks in a matter of factly, teasing smirk on his lips that makes your heart go flip flop.

he’s never smiled at you like that before.

“that’s- that’s different,” you refuse to back down, “they couldn’t even if they wanted to because the system doesn’t let us communicate with the enemy team.”

he nods whilst stirring the - you’d peeked - fried rice that’s sizzling in the pan, “i did give you a warning.”

“um where?” you can fee your eyebrows knitting together.

“the kiss,” he taps his cheek twice before shutting off the stove, devious smirk playing on his lips.

“i thought that was a bona fide peck!” 

“that’s on you,” he shrugs, pouring the fried rice into four plates, “like namjoon says - never assume.”

“okay, maybe he did say that,” you concur, taking a seat across from him where he places the plate and offers you a fork and a spoon that he took out from their respective drawers under the counter.

“something smells good,” taehyung comes popping out from the hallway, bowl of empty cereal in hand as his eyes light up at the sight of the two other plates placed between you and seokjin, almost as if knowing that the only other thing that coud summon the kim brothers out from their dwelling is seokjin’s cooking.

“i’m starving,” namjoon announces, seconds apart from taehyung’s assertion.

so you have breakfast - or lunch, really - together like you would. just four kids from the same hometown who found home in each other’s presence.

you might’ve found something else that you like in seokjin’s pants - but that’s besides the point.

x

note. and here we go for the 2nd installment! hope yall enjoyed!

taglist. @scalubera​ @aretha170​

[anntoldst0ries]

None shall sleep (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart 3, post Chapter 5 Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count/Rating: ~1.8k, T Summary: In the privacy of the diagnostic's office, Ethan & Noelle reflect on recent changes around them. Category/Warnings: Fluff, None Trope: And there was a bit of Hurt/Comfort

A/N: This chapter reminded me of things that have never been addressed... so this is a story of how things left unsaid all collided in my head. Hope you enjoy.

Also - yes, Ethan Ramsey can sing arias. Is anyone still truly surprised by the fact that this guy can do anything?

There is something mesmerizing about watching the lights of day go out, overpowered by darkness, ablaze with colours - from the depths of blue, through indigo, navy and all the way to pitch-black.

About how, in a sense, it washes away all the bothers and allows you to start anew with the next rise of the almighty sun.

Ethan Ramsey was hoping for this exactly, maybe more than ever, but all the signs showed it wasn’t in the cards for him.

Or at least not today.

He stared into the void, interwoven by occasional human figures passing by through the front lobby. No voices of the day were able to reach him on the 7th floor of his kingdom. Behind the glass wall, he was almost in a different world.

It had been yet another day that brought him more gritted teeth, holding himself back and resigned sighs, than actual satisfaction from helping those who counted on him. All these ‘activities’ were not only annoying but also highly energy-consuming.

Bringing the index and middle fingertips to his pulsating temples, he started to compress and massage them in small circles, trying to soothe the pounding inside his skull. He could hear the blood rushing through the highways of his veins, the sound almost drowning out all external stimuli.

But there were certain sounds his expert ear was trained on, the ones he would’ve recognized even in his sleep.

Like the one reaching his ears right now, the sound of the door handle being pressed.

With his back facing the door, he couldn’t see who was trying to impose on his much-needed solitude. But since the unexpected guest did not precede their ministrations by knocking, the possibilities narrowed down significantly. There were only two people on the premises of Edenbrook who could invade his personal space without a modicum of manners.

“Can I help you?” He modulated his voice to ensure the tone was expressing two things: annoyance and irony in the otherwise polite question.

“I’m sorry.” From all the voices, this one he did not expect to hear now. A melodic tone was joined by a scuffle of retreating steps. “Do you want me to go?”

Ethan curled his lips in a tiny smile. They both knew she wasn’t apologetic and that he wanted anything but her to leave.

“No, it’s just that there are only two people in this hospital that wouldn’t bother knocking and I thought it was one of them paying me a visit.”

“Let me guess… Zaid and Baz?”

“No, but in terms of concept, you were actually close…just another type of evil ‘twins’."

“Oh, you mean his majesty King Bloom & his annoyance Dr Carrick?”

“Even as a joke, it sounds creepy and horrible.”

“Well, count me as a third now. Heads up though, I will only stop knocking after twilight.”

It was clear as crystal Ethan’s already specific sense of humor had less than ever space for amusement.

“I brought you this.” She put a brown paper bag on his desk, which immediately revealed the aroma of something delicious. “I figured you’re probably gonna stay here all night, so I thought I’ll pop over and check on you.”

He didn’t say anything, staring into the darkness. Not because he didn’t want to - he simply didn’t know what. This simple gesture was very touching and filled him with gratitude. But he was lacking the right words.

Then, for the first time since she’s interrupted his train of thought, he turned around to look at her. Tired and with puffy eyes, she’d still put everyone else to shame. Even on the worst of days, the light radiating from her turned heads and made the room brighter.

She extended a hand and when their fingers touched, he felt this weird, tingly feeling that has traveled from his palm, through his arm and neck, and then straight to his core.

Pressing him gently against the edge of the desk, she took his glasses off. Then loosened his tie and nonchalantly disheveled his hair. Ethan wouldn’t let anyone else in the world touch them, let alone put them in a state of such disarray.

With her, all the rules existed only to be broken.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on in this big brain of yours?”

“Smart move, Valentine. You’ve pacified me so that now I will have no choice but to tell you whatever you want to know.”

“You always have a choice, let’s just hope you’re gonna make the right one.”

Ethan nodded, no sound escaping his lips. She knew she’d have to take it upon herself to get any information out of her stubborn converser.

“So, how are you holding up? I want an honest answer."

“I’ve been better.”

“I thought so.”

“It’s just that… Tobias is driving me crazy. His presence really tests my patience… I don’t know if I would’ve stopped myself from punching him had it not been for you.”

“Why thank you, I didn’t know my therapeutic services were that good.”

“They are.” Ethan cleared his throat. “But it’s… not just that.”

Dead silence lingered between them and he knew he had no other choice but to continue.

“The only reason why I haven’t wiped this ridiculous smirk off his face yet is that whenever I look at him, I… I see you in that room with Travis. I’m trying to remind myself that, as much as I hate to admit it, he was crucial to finding the cure on such short notice.”

“Ethan…”

“I already told you” - he interrupted her as if not to stop the words from flowing, afraid they may be trapped forever otherwise - “that there was so much more at stake last time Tobias set foot in Edenbrook.”

She took a deep breath, her eyes going slightly wider.

“The truth is, for me… everything was at stake. I would’ve done anything he’d asked me to, I’d have forgiven him if it meant saving you.”

Elle turned still, all her body movements, her breathing and even her blinking ceased.

It was one of those moments that mean so much but leave you with so little to say.

Using the power of non-verbal communication and their deep affinity, she bestowed on him the most gentle, loving and grateful expression her face could muster after yet another exhausting shift.

Ethan extended his arm and before she realized it, her back was gently pressed to the older doctor’s chest. Having wrapped her slender frame with his broad shoulders, Elle inhaled his familiar aroma. He smelled of comfort and felt like a safe harbor. He nudged her hair with his nose and placed a featherlight kiss on the crook of her neck. She smelled of calmness and felt like coming back home from a long journey.

“So,” - he murmured directly into her ear - “whether you like it or not, I am using you to soften the blow every time I look at Tobias’ face.”

“I think I can live with that.”

“But I can’t guarantee it will always be enough, he is a cocky son of a bitch.”

“Let's make a deal then. I see how much it costs you and I’m not telling you to trust Leland or forgive Tobias, I still believe you should be cautious. Let’s just wait and see where this goes, I think we’ll know sooner rather than later. In the meantime, we should focus on what matters the most, our patients.”

“Where is the deal part?”

“If it turns out you were right, I will hold Tobias and you will punch him. Deal?”

“I believe it should be the other way round. Declan Nash’s face told me your right hook is exquisite, Rookie.”

They both laughed at the memory which seemed so distant now, almost as if it's happened in another lifetime.

But Ethan went quiet again and she felt his body tense up, his arms tightening gently around her. It wasn’t very obvious, but she knew. It still came as a shock how well she actually knew him.

“Ethan? What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Ethan.”

“I’m sorry, I am not the most cheery companion today. You’re probably better off not spending too much time with me before you turn into a cynic.”

“Dr Ramsey, what a pathetic attempt of trying to get rid of me. You’ve never been the most cheerful type and I’ve survived your gloomy companionship, hell, I think it grew on me over time. So I should be ok today, too.”

It looked like silence was very much their third companion today.

“I’m thinking about Francis.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’m thinking about how hard it would be not to see. So many beautiful things, colors, all turning into nothingness.”

“I take it you mean the opera?”

“That too, but let’s just say I’ve learned to appreciate things that are right in front of my nose… literally and figuratively.”

The butterflies started somersaulting in her stomach.

“I didn’t want to add more to your plate at the time, but I’ve already felt this way… when we diagnosed Caroline and Leland.”

It was funny that, despite his obvious animosity towards Bloom, whenever his wife was in the picture, he spoke about both in an almost affectionate way. His doctor’s instincts were kicking in, because first and foremost he was a doctor who had his patients’ best interest at heart.

“The thought of not being able to touch you…it reminded me of touching you through the layer of hazmat suit. And now with everything Francis has been through, I just can’t be bothered to think about anything else but you. This is my true personal connection to this case.”

It was her turn to be speechless.

Ethan tightened his grip over her once again, this time protectively rather than out of stress. Slow hum started filling the air, the melody soon joined by lyrics, which he sang in fluent Italian; a private concert, performed for her and her only.

Tu pure, oh Principessa

Nella tua fredda stanza

Guardi le stelle

Che tremano d'amore

E di speranza**

She remembered their patient’s face, which seemed calmer once Ethan started singing the aria before the depths of illness contorted it with pain.

Francis' husband's words echoed throughout her head.

Even though the man holding her in his arms didn’t say it, there was no need.

She knew.

He will always be here.

And she will always be here, too.

-----

** Lyrics - aria "Nessun Dorma" (‘None shall sleep’) from the opera "Turandot".

Translation:

Even you, oh Princess,

In your cold room,

Watch the stars,

That tremble with love

And with hope.

Tag 🔖 list: @starrystarrytrouble @genevievemd @sophxwithers @maurine07 @lovingramsey @iemcpbchoices @oldminniemcg @schnitzelbutterfingers @archxxronrookie @jamespotterthefirst @the-pale-goddess @queencarb @fireycookie @qrkowna @coffeeheartaddict @utterlyinevitable @gryffindordaughterofathena @xxsugarplumfluffsxx @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @mrs-ramsey @tsrookie @fayeswiftie @mercury84choices @lisha1valecha @lucy-268 @stateofgracious @danijimenezv @alina-yol-ramsey

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[couchpotatoaniki]

One Year ❣︎ Seven: Never Ask Friends for Help

Chapter Summary: As San expected, he caught a cold after your little prance through the storm in Hallim Park the previous day. Luckily, you're fine, which gives you the wonderful opportunity to look after him and the even more wonderful opportunity to let your chaotic nature shine.

Pairing: Mafia!San x Fem!Reader Genre: Mafia AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, lotta crack and stupid shit ngl Chapter warnings: swearing, (this chapter is pure fluff and crack) Word count: 3.2k+ A 365 Days parody

Previous: Chapter Six For the rest of the series, click here

Speech in bold means they’re talking in Korean

Speech in italics is whatever the reader wants their native langue to be that’s not Korean or English

Speech without either means they’re talking in English

Silence filled your room when you woke up the next morning. It was strange, since San had said he would be waking you up, and there you were, still lying in bed by the time noon rolled around.

It wasn’t as if you were waiting for him to come and get you, but you just wanted to take advantage of the time in such a warm blanket. Yeosang often joked about how you became a cold-blooded reptile whenever you felt sleepy, body temperature dropping and your tongue sharp like that of a snake.

Basically, it was his long-winded way of calling you a cranky, heat-stealing bitch.

Not that you minded at all, since Yeosang was a cranky bitch himself when sleepy.

But then half an hour passed, and there was still no sign of San. Throwing the blanket off your form, you slipped on a pair of slippers and got ready for the day, finding him becoming the very next thing on your agenda.

And the state you found him in was certainly laughable--to you anyway.

“Did you seriously get sick after a little storm?” you chuckled, eyes taking in San wrapped in the covers as if he was a baby, sniffling every few seconds.

“Oh, shut it,” he glared at you, speaking with a nasally voice.

You took a step into his room, one looking fairly similar to yours, with little pictures or much personalisation in general. Must not have stayed here often then, or had many memories he wanted to keep.

That thought... it made you feel a little sad.

Once you reached the edge of his bed, you sat down beside him, noticing just how sickly-looking he was. Skin paler, hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, flush cheeks and nose, uneven breathing, soft whimpering.

Your smile faded slightly. “How long have you been like this?”

“Since last night,” he coughed, brushing away your hand as you reached out to check his temperature. “Don’t touch me, I don’t want you to catch whatever this is.”

Clicked your tongue at his response and did so anyway. “Holy shit, you’re burning up. More than you should be. Has anyone seen to you yet?” Instantly, you brushed the hair from his eyes, simultaneously wiping away the sweat. Was pretty gross, but you didn’t mind at all.

San relaxed under your gentle touch, finding it cool and soothing against his muddled senses. “N-No. I texted Hongjoong to tell everyone to leave me alone. Clearly didn’t do a good enough job if you’re here.”

Lightly hitting his chest over the blanket, you scoffed. “You’re happy I’m here, don’t lie.”

Grinning, he sighed. “Can’t hide anything from you, now can I, Hun?”

“Nope,” you huffed as you got up. “Now, I’m going to prepare something for you to eat since you probably haven’t had anything since yesterday.” On cue, his stomach grumbled painfully loudly, making the man visibly cringe as he was about to decline your offer so you would stay with him for a little bit longer. “Looks like Mister Tummy’s already answered for you.”

“Mister Tummy doesn’t know shit.”

“Mister Tummy knows more shit than you do. In fact, it processes all of your shit for you.”

“Gross.”

“I know. Mister Tummy’s gross. But full of wisdom.”

“You know what, just go. Leave me be for a bit.”

Evil chuckling reached his ears. “Now that you’ve said it, I’ll just be here to annoy you as much as I can. But before we do that, keep yourself bundled up and make sure you’re sweating buckets. It’s the most effective way to break a nasty fever like that.” You began wrapping him up in the thick blanket like he was a burrito.

With that, you left for the kitchen, calling Seonghwa’s number. As the ringing continued, you looked around, noticing how there were few guards and servants around the place. Not even Wooyoung, Jongho, or Hongjoong could be seen in your trek to make food.

“What do you want, troll?”

“You’ve got to stop calling me that. Whatever happened to ‘hello’? Too mainstream for you?”

“...Hello, troll. What do you want?”

Narrowing your eyes ahead of you, smirk pressing against your lips, you tried to look around for the chef. Not there either. “Much better. Now, can you give me a recipe for that soup with ‘magical healing properties’ you used to give me?”

“Bone broth?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m on adventure to nurse a sociopathic cuddle-demon back to health, now are you going to give me the recipe or am I going to get Yunho to drag it out of you? Because I know very well that he will.”

Seonghwa’s sigh was loud enough to be audible through the phone.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Just text me the recipe, thank you, love you, byeeeeee.” Immediately ended the call, looking in all the cupboards, the pantry, the fridge, and the freezer. This place was stocked to the brim.

Shortly after, your phone began buzzing, Seonghwa requesting to video call you. Swiping the green button, you were met with a (slightly laggy) picture of Seonghwa’s chin, hearing him yell off screen. “--UNHO. MINGI. I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU BETTER PUT THAT DOWN BEFORE I SHOVE IT UP BOTH YOUR ASSES.”

You could make out the response, “Hehe, kinky.” Most likely Mingi from the very nature of the comment.

“What do you want, troll?” you echoed his words back to him, catching his attention--the other boys most likely long gone into the depth of the house.

“Well, well, well, how the tables have turned,” he smirked, moving the camera so you could see him better.

“It’s ‘how the turntables’.”

He looked at you with an unimpressed expression, not pleased with your Office reference, and carried on to ignore it. “So there is no way in hell I’m sending you the recipe through text, since people can easily hack that--”

“And by people, you mean--”

“Yeosang, yes, who else? Little rat bastard keeps trying to steal my recipes.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.”

“As if he hasn’t heard it already about a million times.”

You chuckled in response, knowing how true it was. “Fair enough. Now spill your secrets and bless me with the ability to cook.”

One word to describe the last hour of your life would be... Well, you couldn’t really think of a word. It was purely of Seonghwa screaming over the phone and you screaming back. And panicking. Both of you definitely panicked.

But all in all, the bone broth was made and tasted fairly decent--a worry you had after fucking up so many times in making a simple recipe.

With a pale and dreary look upon his face, Seonghwa looked at you through the phone, narrowing his eyes on you pouring some of the hot mixture in to a bowl. “You’re actually gonna feed him that? Sure you’re trying to nurse him, or was this a master plan to kill him after that ordeal? Because if it’s the latter, then there were much easier ways of doing so.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, whispering prayers in your head that it would actually help San’s fever. “And goodbye.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Is that it? You’re gonna use me and then lea--”

You hand pulled away from the phone screen, after having pressed the red button. Chuckled to yourself with your comedic timing, completely forgetting the earful you’d get of the elder the next time you call him.

Gathering a tray, you placed the bowl of bone broth on top of it, as well as a packet of painkillers, a glass of water, and some turmeric tea; why San has it, you have no idea, since he seems to be a hot coffee-kind of person.

Would’ve added a flower, because you felt like being extra, but that would seem more like a romantic thing than a... well, whatever the hell you two were right now.

This situation wasn’t exactly common enough for it to be given a name.

Wafting away the thought, you grabbed the tray and walked quickly to the mobster’s bedroom. Didn’t need to worry about any spillage since you’ve had years of practice being quick and precise with movement.

Holding one hand beneath the tray (feeling a little heavy, but again, you’ve had practice), you used the other to open the door, finding San still swaddled in his blanket, sweating like a pig.

“Y/N...” he whimpered, an eye opening at the sound of you entering. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state was different to how he usually was--and you weren’t sure if you liked it.

“I’m right here, San,” you replied in a soft tone, brushing back his hair once more as soon as you placed the tray on the bedside-table beside you. “Brought you some food too. Can you sit up for me?”

Letting out soft whines, he tried to lift his body up, but was too weak and too caged in to get his back even a centimetre off the mattress. You saw the issue, and pulled the covers apart slightly so he could move a little more, both hands pulling gently at his shoulders so he could sit up properly.

Never had you seen someone this unwell from a simple fever. Sure, you’ve felt like shit before, but San’s condition was a little worrying. “Is there some private doctor I can call?”

“What,” he huffed, a smile etching onto his face as he looked into your eyes, “makes you think I have a private doctor?”

“Oh, I dunno, you’re a rich asshole?”

Chuckling, he let his head flop to the side, neck suddenly too weak to hold it up properly. “You’re beautiful, you know that? Annoying, but funny, but sarcastic, but beautiful.”

“Okay, do you wanna continue with that word vomit or are you gonna eat?” You cocked your brow, head tilting to match his posture. “Also, you’re not gonna flatter me by calling me beautiful. That shit doesn’t work on me anymore.”

It had slightly upset San knowing that you had said ‘anymore’--upset him knowing that there were others complimenting what his. But he couldn’t blame them. You really were beautiful in his eyes, even if he hadn’t thought so when he initially laid eyes on you.

“Don’t wanna eat.”

Sighing, you fixed yourself and picked up the bowl, mixing it as you blew to cool it down a little. “You’re not well, you gotta.”

He looked at you with big wide eyes and a small pout--and you couldn’t help but think it was a little cute. “Don’t wanna... unless you feed me?”

Okay, maybe it was a little less cute.

You exhaled, still stirring. “If I do, then you’ll have it all?” He put his hand over his heart, nodding with a sincere look on his face. “Fine then.” You lifted a spoon full of the bone broth to his lips, which he look into his mouth promptly--eyes glued to yours as he did so.

San hummed earnestly. “It’s...actually pretty good.”

Eye twitching, you lightly pushed him. “Why? Did you expect it to be shit?”

“I mean, I heard faint screaming and what I assume was swearing, which could have only come from you because I let everyone have a day off for today. So, yes, forgive my assumption that it would murder me,” he chuckled, opening his mouth once more, in which you carefully put more broth in.

“Be happy that I’m doing this much for you.”

“Because you feel guilty for getting me ill?” 

“No, it was your fault for not taking a hot shower when we came back, like I told you to--and your immune system for being so shit.”

“Okay, first of all, I can’t help it if my immune system wants to act out. I usually don’t get this ill.” You sent him a ludicrous look, continuing to feed him. “What? I really don’t!”

“Tell that to the rain.”

“I-- nevermind. But the second thing is that I offered to take a shower, but you said no!”

“That’s because you wanted to shower with me. No way in hell I was gonna let that happen!”

“You have the shower room for it!”

″Yeah, and I've already passed on my grievances to you yesterday about that hell-room!”

“Well, at least with me with you, you don’t have to worry about--what did you call it? Oh yeah--’Casper the fuckin’ Perverted Ghost’.”

“I’d take a ghost over you any day.”

“You won’t be saying that in a year.”

“Bold of you to assume that I won’t be choosing Casper over you. After all, I’ll be spending time with him as well.”

San scoffed, slightly amused but annoyed at the same time. “Are you actually trying to get me jealous of something that doesn’t exist?”

“Who said Casper doesn’t exist?”

“‘Cause ghosts don’t exist.”

“Tell that to Casper. You’ll find him in my shower room.”

Amidst the conversation, neither of you had noticed how the bowl and cup was now empty, their contents now residing in San’s stomach. But when you did, you got up--ready to walk to the kitchen and put everything away--until his very warm hands wrapped around your elbow gently.

“Please don’t go. You can put all that stuff away later. Just... stay with me.”

Sighing, you decided to listen to him for once an put the tray down before tightening the covers around him again--making him whine. “Noooooo, I wanna hold you.”

“What happened to not wanting me to get sick?”

“I’m ill, stop taking my muddled brain so seriously.”

Your brow cocked up, amused while you looked over his flushed face. “So you’d be willing get me sick too?”

Another pout formed on his face. “Of course not,” he mumbled. “You know what, you’re right. You can go.”

He avoided looking at you, instead fixing his saddened gaze at the window. Your natural scepticism told you that he was just faking it, only putting on an act to get your attention and affection. Yet, for the first time in a while, doubt began to seep in.

Maybe... maybe you could give in. Just this once.

Sighing, you slipped off your slippers and lay down beside him, an arm and leg wrapping around his body to bring him closer to you. A stronger tint of red covered his face as he looked at you, flabbergasted, as he tried to wriggle out of your touch. “What are you doing, you’ll get sick--”

“My immune system is much stronger than yours, I’ll live. Besides, you look cosy,” you muttered, nestling your face into the soft blanket. Even his blanket smelled like a garden in the rain, despite the amount of sweat that’s probably seeped into it.

Truly, he did, and you couldn’t deny that you wanted to hug the human burrito.

San had, instead, found you cute, cheek squished against the fabric surrounding him. Let his mind wonder to the image of you pressed against him--without the covers coming between you two.

Again.

Would you look this peaceful, sleeping on his chest, on a regular day--he thought.

“Are you just going to stare at me or are you gonna get some rest?” San could feel your voice vibrating through the covers despite the thickness of it.

“Hard not to stare at you, ya know?” he relaxed himself, despite feeling like he was baking beneath the blanket, and let his head rest on the pillow, cheek pressed against your forehead.

“Goddamn, you’re hot. Did you take any medicine while I was cooking?”

“Oh, Hun, there’s no cure for sexiness,” he coughed, a smirk pulling at his lips from the joke he made.

Another sigh was pulled from your throat as you got up to look for any painkillers he could take. Sane began to whine once more, rolling over since he could barely had enough energy to move with his arms when he was this tired--a full belly of warm broth and tea not helping what so ever.

“No--wait. Come back...”

“You need painkillers.”

With a straight face, he stared deep into your eyes, slightly glossy and sparkling under the dim sunlight coming into the room. “But you’re my painkiller.”

“Yeah, I’m going to get you some meds,” you deadpanned, scooping up the tray to leave the grown-ass mafia boss whining and rolling around, throwing a tantrum.

After some hard thinking and remembering that Wooyoung had given you his number, you called him up as you stood in the doorway, looking at San’s calm state of sleeping.

“My dear sister,” you heard a voice finally say over the phone, “what requires my assistance?”

“...Wooyoung?”

“Yes, dear sister?”

“What in the world has possessed you call me your ‘dear sister’?”

“Because you’re gonna be my friend’s wife some day, so I need to get used to seeing you as my sister-from-another-mister.”

Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you decided to not comment on his outlandish claims. “San’s not feeling well.”

“Is that why he sent us all away?” he laughed, somehow finding this situation amusing--since this is what his best friend tends to do; finds his weakened state as vulnerability, and if there was one thing San hated, it was feeling vulnerable.

But if he truly hated that, then why pursue this why you--when he know that it would force him to bring his guard down?

“I think so. No one was here when I came out of my room. Not the cooks or the maids or even the guards,” you said, taking another gander as if there might be someone roaming the halls to disprove your statement.

There wasn’t.

“Okay then. You want me to give you our private doctor’s number?”

Chuckling to yourself because you knew you were right (immediately confusing Wooyoung), you hummed, “yeah, that would be great.”

“O-Okay. Lemme text it to you. But do you need anything else? I know from experience San can get a little clingy when he’s not in his right mind,” he said, a boisterous giggle passing his lips.

“Nah, it’s fine.” You let your gaze brush over your captor’s figure. “Just send me the number and I’ll take it from there.”

“Okie dokie then, dear sister. I’ll leave you to deal with that enigma.”

“Alright, Wooyoung. See you tomorrow?”

“Call me ‘dear brother’, then maybe I’ll hang u--”

You shoved your phone into your back pocket after ending the call, thinking that it would take him a few minutes. Proving you wrong, the phone buzzes to life within the next ten seconds, Wooyoung sending you a couple of messages.

Wooyoung: Well that was a rude Wooyoung: No matter, I still love ya, dear sister Wooyoung: Probs should clarify that it’s platonic in case San sees it and gets all jelly Wooyoung: Anyway, here’s the number Wooyoung: XXXXXXXXXX

Y/N: Thanks, bro

Wooyoung: 🥺🥺 You called me ‘bro’

Smiling a little, you called the number--which had indeed taken you to a doctor’s clinic. After hearing of his exact temperature and other symptoms, the woman over the phone had concluded that it was as you first suspected--the common cold.

She told you to keep giving him painkillers and he should be fine within the week. Ending the call with a polite ‘thank you’ and ‘goodbye’, you left to get San more broth and medication, and hopefully you’d lay down with him again.

Which is exactly what you did for the rest of the day, opting to stay with him for the night too in order to make sure he really was okay. Thankfully, the worst of his fever had passed by the time morning came around and he was feeling much better.

You, however, were exhausted after looking after him, deep in your slumber as you shifted closer to San, who had broken free of his blanket prison and wrapped it around the two of you. The sunlight peeking through the window paled in comparison to the faint smile of glee San had adorned when he saw you.

Cheeked pressed up against his shoulder, and arm and a leg draped over his body like a koala clinging to a tree.

Just like he had thought the day before.

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