#Tango x reader

[tilly-death]

I was wondering if you are willing to write a Tango x Etho x gn!reader (or just Tango x gn!reader if you don't want to write poly atm)?

Pairing: Tango x GN! Professor! Reader x Etho (kinda Pearl & Etho [Platonic] too ngl)

Includes: (small i think, but be aware they are there) SPOILERS FOR THE LATEST CHAPTER (16) OF DOUBLE-HEARTED, mentions of a secret relationship but also not really? (they haven’t told anyone, but its not technically a secret), speculated cheating (doesn’t happen), three uses of Y/N

Words: 2.0k

A/N: I always want to write poly 😈 I wanted to write something for DDVAU anyway to celebrate the new Double-Hearted chapter that came out ((if you haven’t [you probably have, but on the off-chance that you haven’t] go check it out on Webtoon, or here on Tumblr! It’s a great comic about the DDVAU {Desert-Duo Vigilante AU} written by @//kitsuneisi and @//xmaruu11))

((p.s. if you don't like it/it's not what you had in mind, lmk and I'll write a new one!))

When Etho offered to set Pearl up with an interview with his boyfriend, this was not what she had in mind.

She did not expect to be walking into the university he worked at, glancing around awkwardly as she tried to find her way around. As much as she felt like she was back in college herself, she couldn’t find it in her to care very much. Insider information with someone who was in the school during the attack?! It couldn’t be much better for a reporter like her(who was also very interested in discovering the various mysteries Hot Guy has to hide from the general public).

Pearl brushed her hair back as she glanced at the paper in her hand, telling her exactly where she was meant to meet Tango. She looked at the building in front of her, confirming that it was the correct building and grinned excitedly, hurrying into the room. She quickly found the office she was looking for and peered into the window. Her brows furrowed when she saw two people talking softly in the room.

Tango, who was obvious because of his fiery hair, sat in his office chair, facing his desk. On his desk sat another professor. They were talking, only just loud enough for her to hear their words. 

“C’mon, Etho asked me to do the interview for her.” Tango was saying. He reached over and grabbed the other professor’s hand. “I’m fine.”

The other sighed, “Tango, I don’t want you to relive that moment so soon after it happened. It had to have been traumatic!”

“I’m fine.” He insisted with a grin. “I promise, if I wasn’t ready to talk about it, I wouldn’t have the interview. I don’t mind, really. It wasn’t that bad, really.”

The professor did not seem impressed. They leaned their head back on their shoulders, “You were dragged into a school that was taken over by some kind of spore creature and were attacked, I think-”

“Well, I wasn’t really attacked per se-” He was quickly silenced by a glare. He chuckled awkwardly, pulling their hands towards him for a moment, “Sweetheart,” Pearl’s eyes widened as she heard the pet name. Her brows furrowed. Sweetheart? Isn’t Tango, Etho’s boyfriend? Who is this other person? “It’s fine. I promise. If I wasn’t up for it, I wouldn’t do it. Come on, you have class soon and Pearl should be here soon. I’ll be fine.”

Pearl watched closely as they huffed and nodded. “Fine. Tell me if something happens, promise?” They leaned in, pressing a kiss against his forehead. Pearl gasped, moving away from the window in shock. Her eyes were wide. After a few seconds, she could hear footsteps coming closer to the door. She took a quick deep breath and walked down the corridor for a moment before turning around right as the door opened. She plastered a smile on her face (after all, reporters have to be professional at their first official interview) and walked towards the door again.

“I’ll see you after school, who’s place are we meeting at, again?” Tango asked as he leaned against the door.

The other professor hummed before shrugging, “I guess yours. If that works for you?” He nodded. His eyes glanced to the side and he grinned as he noticed Pearl. The professor’s eyes followed his and they smiled. “Oh, hi. You must be Pearl, yeah? I’m Y/N.”

She nodded, holding back her true emotions. So Tango is cheating on Etho?! That doesn’t sound like the Tango he talks about, but I guess even the ‘best’ people can be shallow. “Yeah, that’s me.” Her voice was professional, offering a miniscule smile.

Tango nodded, “Perfect, you’re right on time. I’m Tango.” He nodded towards his office. “We have about an hour and a half until my next class, so we have plenty of time.” She gave him a smile and a nod, no longer as excited about this interview (though… she was still excited, admittedly).

After Pearl and Tango finished their interview, she was thankful for the insider information she now had. In fact, she almost forgot about the situation before the interview until she got a text from Etho as she was leaving the school.

Etho

how was the interview?

Pearl

uhhh it was good

I do have some bad news for you tho

Etho

yeah?

what’s up?

Pearl

I’d rather tell you in person, are you free today???

Etho

uh sure yeah, when do you wanna meet up

Pearl quickly gave him a place to meet and a time. She met him there with time to spare. She looked over her notes from the interview and the recorded copy she had. Her mind was fighting over being a good reporter and remaining completely unopinionated, and being a good friend and being very upset that her friend was cheated on. She sighed, covering her face with her hands. It’s not like the cheating would be included in the interview, she reasoned. But, would it be okay to publish your best friend’s cheating boyfriend’s interview? What are the morals of this type of situation? Are there any?

A hand came in contact with her shoulder and she jumped, eyes darting to the side as her hands fell from her face. Her eyes narrowed, “Oh, haha.” She deadpanned as Etho laughed softly. He sat across from her and raised an eyebrow.

“You seemed distracted for someone who really wanted to tell me something.” He mused. 

She hesitated, “Well, I was going over a kind-of moral dilemma.”

His head tilted slightly as he peered at her over the edge of his mask, “What morals? You went in for an interview and you came out with questions about morals?” He chuckled, “What did that man say to you?”

“He’s cheating on you?”

Etho paused, brows furrowing, “What?”

Pearl let out a deep breath that she didn’t realize she was holding. The words started flooding out, “I walked into the office, expecting him to be alone. But I stopped outside the window of his door and looked in and I saw this person sitting on his desk. You know how nosy I am, so I was listening! He called them ‘sweetheart’?? And they kissed his forehead! They were clearly close and clearly dating or something! Then- then! They decided on staying over at Tango’s house. Tonight!”

Etho was quiet for a moment, staring at her before he laughed. It was a louder laugh than she usually heard from him. “Why are you laughing? Are you crazy? He’s seeing someone else!”

“Come with me.” Is all he replied. He stood up, gesturing for her to follow him. Confused beyond belief (and questioning his own mental status), she followed him.

“Where are we going? Are you not going to say anything?”

“You’ll see. Be patient, Pearl.” He mused. Pearl sighed, realizing she wasn’t getting anything out of him anytime soon. The walk wasn’t very long. They arrived at an apartment complex. He pulled out his phone, sending a quick text. As he did, he nodded to the call box. “Press Apartment 304.” Pearl hesitated. She knew this was not Etho’s apartment. In fact, she didn’t think she knew anyone in this part of the city at all. When he noticed she didn’t move, he chuckled again, reaching over and hitting the button. Within a few moments, the buzzer made a different noise and the door unlocked. “C’mon.”

“Etho, where are we going?”

He glanced back at her as they climbed the stairs, “You haven’t put it together? And I thought you were a reporter.” He tsked. “We’re going to Tango’s place.”

Her eyes widened, “We’re confronting them?!”

“You could say that.”

Her heart beat with anxiety as the two climbed the final set of stairs. They approached the door with the number 304 on it. She kept glancing over at Etho. He didn’t seem nervous at all. She paused. He glanced back.

“Problem?”

“Yeah, what are you planning? What are you up to?” She accused, pointing at him. “You’re being awfully calm about this whole situation.”

He laughed, leaning over and knocking on the door. She blinked as the door opened, revealing Tango. “Hey, babe.” He said, leaning over with a grin, his eyes darted to the right and he laughed, “Hey, Pearl. Guess we got some explaining to do, yeah?”

Her brows furrowed, glancing between the two. She went to speak when a voice interrupted. “Etho! You’re here! Finally.” Her eyes blinked in confusion as the professor from the school came over, leaning over and wrapping Etho in a hug. He laughed as he hugged them awkwardly. “We’ve been waiting for hourssss.” 

“It’s been twenty minutes.” He said, rolling his eyes and laughing. He gently pulled them back and gestured to the right where Pearl stood. “Sweetheart, this is Pearl. You remember her from earlier, right?”

They pulled back from Etho and glanced over, grinning, “Yeah! Of course! You look so pretty by the way, I totally forgot to mention it because I was running late.”

Pearl couldn’t wrap her head around what was happening. Her eyes darted from Tango to Y/N to Etho. “Okay, what is happening right now?”

Etho chuckled as his partner glanced at him, “I dunno, what is happening, Etho?” They questioned with a small, confused smile.

“Well, to answer both of your questions at the same time. I was invited to dinner with Pearl here because she had something important to tell me.” He nodded, almost gravely before laughing again. “She told me our dear Tango here was cheating on me.”

Tango fully burst out laughing, using the side of the door to support his weight as he practically heaved laughter. Their partner looked taken aback for a moment before they gasped, “Oh! Because of this morning! Oh, I’m so sorry!” They laughed. “No, no, no. We’re all dating. We’re in a poly relationship!” They clarified.

Pearl’s face relaxed slightly as she let out a breath, “Ohhh.” She murmured. “That’s why he wasn’t freaking out when I told him.”

“I thought you knew.” Etho said with a shrug. “Then you came telling me that and I was just so shocked. I mean, you’ve walked up on me and them on a date before.”

Pearl thought about before shaking her head, “I don’t think so, only you and Tango.”

His brows furrowed, “I’m pretty sure- Oh, right! They were in the changing room when you ran into us.” He explained with another chuckle. Pearl glanced over as said partner wrapped an arm around Tango’s waist. His grin seemed to brighten as he glanced over at them before refocusing. “I really did think you knew, though.”

“You never talk about them? Only ever Tango!”

“I rarely talk about Tango to begin with, Pearl. We’ve been dating for a year and a half and you learned I was dating him, what, a few months ago?” He scoffed, “I just don’t like talking all that much about my private life.”

Pearl nodded slowly, her brain piecing together the missing parts of the puzzle. “So, you three are all in a relationship together?” The trio nodded in unison. 

“I would have said something when we met if I had known you didn’t know.” Y/N said, offering an awkward smile. “I would hate for you to think Tango would even be capable of thinking of cheating. Especially since you were interviewing him for something so serious.”

Tango groaned playfully, “Sweetheart, I’m tellin’ you! It was fine! Not a big deal.” They narrowed their eyes at him and he paused as they pulled out of his grip.

“I need to check the food, make sure it’s not overcooking!” They announced as they walked away. Tango had no hesitation to follow, talking about how it ‘wasn’t a big deal’ as they walked. 

Etho glanced over at Pearl, “So?”

She hummed slowly, “So what?”

“What do you think? Y’know about me being poly?”

Her eyes moved to meet his and she looked slightly annoyed, “You don’t think I would think anything different than what I already do, do you? Cause this isn’t a change at all. All it tells me is that you have more people who care about you.” While he didn’t make a noise, she could tell his shoulders relaxed slightly. “Etho, I care about you. This wouldn’t really change much of anything. Promise. I’ll see you tomorrow. Go spend time with your… partners?”

He chuckled softly, nodding, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I’ll see ya.”

[writer-0f-all]

Goodbye

______________________________

Fandom?: Hermitcraft/MCYT

Who?: Anyone-ish

Warnings: blood, respawn mechanics, let me know if i missed any

_-_-_-_-_

Your eyes blur slightly with tears, the clouds rolling above you slowly, It gives a certain calm compared to now. The moon shines so brightly with its massive form, Slowly closing in on the world as you know it. You had been building when you were struck by a flying skeleton, its arrow embedded within your shoulder, blood slowly drizzling down from the wound, tainting your clothes a dreary red. A shadow looms over  you, blocking the moon. Their face comes into view, tears collecting in their eyes. Your name slips past their lips, as a tear slips past their eyes. A gentle hand caresses your cheek, moving to  your collar, finally resting next to the arrow. “I can save you…” The whisper, “I could bring you with me..” Your eyes start to droop, your chest slowly expanding and shrinking.  Tears Fall from your own eyes, joining theirs. “If only…” You say slowly. They open their mouth to say something when the ground starts shaking, you and them rising towards the sky, they hold you close as you rise, the moon shining brightly, slowly closing in on the world you once knew. Your eyes drift over your bases, the tall, short, mostly finished, mess and smile.  Remicicing the mornings you cuddle in bed together, the dinners you'd make together, the times you'd die only to respawn in each other's arms. 

You close your eyes as a tear slips past before opening them again, looking towards the moon,and as your eyes make contact,  you whisper one..last…thing.…

“Goodbye…”

"Hope you enjoyed! The pearl fanfic is coming, tumblr was just being an ass and deleted the draft. Have a good day my lovlies!"

~Candy

[writeawaythepain]

Oblivious

Tango Tek x (gn!reader)

Anybody else really miss watching Tango’s videos when he left? 

Word count: 2.4 k

Prompts:

“I would be nervous too in your shoes. But you’d be telling me that I got this, so I’m telling you: You got this.”

Doing each other's hair.

Summary:

You convince Tango to finally take a break from his new big redstone project by inviting him over for a sleepover. You start to wonder if it was even a good idea, as your normal teasing back-and-forth banter starts to hit a little too close to home when you realize your crush for the redstoner was just getting worse…

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“I would be nervous too, in your shoes,” I try to reassure him with a smile. “ But you’d be telling me that I got this, so I’m telling you: You got this.” You look directly into his fiery red eyes.

“….Aaaa- you’re just making me more stressed!!” Tango yells out dipping the nail polish brush back into the bottle. “Why am I even so stressed?!” 

“Cause I made your nails fabulous, and if you mess mine up I’ll never forgive you.” You answer simply, trying and failing to suppress a smile.

“You did do my nails fabulously, you did…but I think I’m actually going to go for a more abstract look-'' He flashes you a mischievous smile as he slowly lowers the brush closer to your finger, and nowhere near where your actual nail was. You instantly pull away, gasping in mock offense.

“Don’t you dare-“ You start.

“Wha -at, do you not trust me?!” He says snickering. You eye him suspiciously.

”Not when you say things like that!”

Your plan for making sure Tango took a break from his new big project was going well so far. Sure you felt a little childish when bringing up the idea of a sleepover, but Tango’s enthusiasm dashed most of your concerns instantly…Most, that is, except for your growing concern that you may love your friend in more ways than just platonic….

You usually always push those feelings to the back burner, not wanting to ruin the thing you two already had going, but seeing the way he stuck out his tongue in concentration while still managing to get polish all over your finger wasn’t helping. ”How are you so bad at this?“ You tease, smiling.

”I- you shush! I’m trying, ok! You keep squirming-“ He says trying to readjust his positioning by grabbing and tilting your hand slightly.

”I’m not squirming! I’m laughing. At you.” You say still giggling. He huffs, and eventually decides that his technique wasn’t working, and decides to try a new one. He gets up from his cross-legged position on the floor, pulling his knees up and toward himself to form a resting place for your wrist. His grip on your hand tightens a little as he yanks you closer.

”Just shut up and come here-” The rest of your body follows your hand, and you scooch closer to him, shutting up. Tango doesn’t even seem to notice your close proximity, too focused on trying to paint your nails neatly. After a few more beats of flustered (on your part) silence, he looks up beaming. “There, first hand done!” 

You blink, your brain still catching up, before you inspect his work. The first finger he did was quite bad- unevenly painted and there was some color accidentally splotched onto your skin. But each nail got progressively better, and all in all… “Well- I’ve had worse. And I like the color!” He’d picked a bright red for you, a shade that reminded you of his bright eyes. You picked your favorite color for his nails, and you now wonder if he did the same.

”Ok- ok! See- I’m learning!” He says before holding out his hand again, “other one?”

You give him your other hand, and are forced to look at his adorably concentrated face again as he paints your other nails. You start talking to distract yourself. “So I assume this is your first time ever doing this?”

”Zed’s painted my nails before- but it was with some kinda poison for one of his science-y experiment-o thingies.” If he had been talking about anyone else you might’ve questioned it, but it was Zedaph, so you weren’t really even surprised. “I’ve never painted someone else’s before- no.” He responds not looking up, still entirely focused.

”Really, I couldn’t tell?” You say sarcasm dripping from your voice as you smile. He looks up at you for a second just to roll his eyes.

“I thought I told you to shush-“ He says, almost scolding if it wasn’t for the smile on his face. He rolls his shoulders, and it seems like being hunched over in concentration was starting to make him sore, so he instead leans back a little, pulling you even closer, and holds your forearm between his knees. Ok- this was getting ridiculous, there was no way your face wasn’t getting a bit red now. 

“Do you want me to just detach my hand and give it to you?” You laugh trying to keep your composure.

”No- “ He laughs, seemingly oblivious to your suffering. “-I like you just as you are, all in one piece thanks.” You chuckle, looking anywhere but directly at him until he finally finishes, and releases your hand. ”Done! Now don’t you look absolutely fanta-bulous! The color really suits you-“ He cheers, sending you a wink that makes you wonder if he was doing this on purpose.

The second hand looks even better than the first, and if you were being honest, it really warmed your heart that he tried so hard. “It does look great, the red makes me feel like a model.” You pose in a silly vogue showing off your nails as if in a commercial, and it succeeds in making Tango laugh. He tries a pose of his own, showing off his nails in front of his face and pursing his lips. He looks at you, and winks. You burst out laughing, and he joins in as you both have goofy smiles on your face. When your laughing finally calms down, Tango looks up at you.

”So, what else do you usually do at sleepovers?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.

”Well…me and my friends would sometimes play truth or dare, or do each other's hair-“ Tango’s eyes light up.

“Why not both! Though, I don’t think there’s much you can do with this mop on my head-“ He responds pointing at his spikey blonde hair, “I kinda just have to let it do what it wants.”

You squint at it, sizing up his hairdo like it was a challenge. “I think I can figure something out…”

”Go ahead! Be my guest.” He says sitting up and taking off the goggles he had on. 

You get up to grab some supplies from the bathroom, before returning and kneeling down behind him, trying to find a longer chunk of hair that you can work with. Satisfied with finding a section near his pointy ears, you start braiding. “Right, you go first. Truth or dare?”

”Well, I can’t really move- so truth? I did not think this through, huh?” He chuckles, and you pull on his hair slightly to keep him still.

”Stop moving!” You say, laughing as well. You think for a second, trying to come up with a good question. “Ok…When you first met me, what was your first impression of me?”

Tango smiles, and flushes slightly as he thinks back on the moment, remembering it fondly. You're too focused to notice. “Well- If I’m being a hundred percent honest. I just thought you looked really cool! But in kinda a like- a slightly intimidating way, you know?” You spare him an odd look.

”Really?” You ask, finishing up the first little braid before gently tilting his head the other way to do the same thing on the other side.

”Yea! Then, I got to know you and realized you're just a big ole softy!” He says chuckling. You roll your eyes and shake your head, but you don’t stop the small smile that spreads across your face.

”Yea, yea, whatever.” You chuckle, focusing back on his hair.

”Your turn now, truth or dare?” Tango asks.

“Truth, I’m still trying to finish this braid-“ He takes a moment to respond, giving you just enough time to finish the second braid, so you tie it to the end of the first one, forming a sort of halo around the back of his head.

”What’s a secret you’ve never told anyone?” He asks. One instantly pops to mind, but you shake your head, dismissing it instantly.

”Actually, nevermind, I'm finished. I switch to my choice to dare.” Tango turns around to face you, almost pouting.

”Wha- You can’t do that!”

”Yes I can, and look!” You pull out a hand mirror you brought and show him what you’ve done to his hair, his frown instantly turns into an excited smile.

”Woah- it’s so cute!” He says, turning his head a little to inspect the braids, grinning. 

”You are! And your hair looks nice too.” You say shooting him wink, he laughs but you swear you saw his face get a little pink. He looks off to the side like he’s thinking, and then turns back to you with a toothy smirk.

”Alright, I thought of a dare. Give me your absolutely worst pick up line. Just- the most cheesy, corny, awful pick up line ever.” Your eyebrow raises a little at his request, and you take a moment to think.

”Worst pick up line huh…? That’s hard cause we both know how amazing I am at flirting.” You say sarcastically, just buying yourself some time to think of something clever.

Tango laughs, “Yep, uh huh. Totally. You're like, the flirting master.” He teases back.

Finally a really stupid one comes to mind, “Tango, are you a campfire? Because you’re hot and I totally want s’more-“ You say, barely able to get it out without laughing.

Tango stares at you blankly for a moment, before his face reddens and he bursts out laughing. “That- that’s actually terrible.”

“Hey you asked! I’m starting to think you just like the idea of me flirting with you.” You joke, turning your back to him so he could do your hair. Instead, he decides to lean forward and whisper directly into your ear.

“Maybe I do~” He pulls back and starts laughing, but you're frozen. Your face feels flushed and you try to calm your racing heart. You keep reminding yourself that it was all just a joke, that you needed to calm down or you’d risk making it weird. “Aw, too much?” He asks.

“I- just-” You stutter.

“Well too bad, it’s my payback for you not letting me work on my redstone stuff.” He says gently running his hands through your hair and…you were just now realizing how bad of an idea this all was. You were supposed to be getting over your feelings for the hot tempered blaze, but instead you’ve found yourself falling for him even more.

“Yea well, that’s what I get for being a good friend I guess.” You chuckle, but it comes out a bit strained. 

“Friends? Is that all we are?” Tango asks slightly…disappointed?

“Alright Tango enough with the jokes, you keep doing that I might actually fall for you.” You try to keep up your chipper and teasing tone, but your voice wavered towards the end.

Tango stops playing with your hair, and moves in front of you again. He seems nervous, and looks down at his hands a lot. You don’t dare hope, you don’t let yourself think anything, too scared to lose the friendship that you two had, no matter how much you cared for him.

“Maybe…uhh…maybe I might’ve actually been the one, that has done the falling…for…you.” He ends it with a dry chuckle, wringing his hands and struggling to keep eye contact. When you don’t respond right away, he finally looks at you. You search his eyes, searching for any sign that this was all some sort of weird bit.

“Are- are you being for real…or…” You finally ask, still not sure.

“Uh…yea? I mean…I thought I was making it obvious and all but I guess...” For some reason you feel tears well up in your eyes. “...Ah! Oh my gosh, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-” You interrupt him, quickly wiping the tears from your eyes.

“No! No it’s fine I’m just- I’m glad! I promise!” You reassure him, a huge smile spreading across your lips. His eyes are still wide with concern, and slight confusion.

“Wait so- I’m confused. Do you also…?” You bob your head up and down, laughing a bit as you try to regain your composure after the roller coaster of emotions that had been the past few minutes.

“Yes, Tango. Obviously, I’ve fallen for you too.” You finally respond, he grins and grabs both your hands in his.

“Well, obviously- neither of us are really good at reading the obvious-” He snickers, gently stroking your hand with his thumb. 

You giggle, “Wow, and now someone has spilled about their crush, we’ve checked, like, all the sleepover boxes but-”

“-but sleeping?” Tango asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“No? No one sleeps at sleepovers, come on dude-” You respond and he laughs, “the only thing we haven’t done is watch a movie!”

“Hey well I’m not complaining. As long as I get to do your hair first, since it was um- interrupted.” He smiles, blushing slightly.

“Why not both!” You say mirroring his tone from earlier.

~ ~ ~

This time when he runs his fingers through your hair, you allow yourself to melt into his touch. You're seated on the ground, while Tango sits on the couch. You're situated between both his legs, as he tries, undos, and retries to braid your hair. You realize you don’t really mind if he ever gets it right, you're just glad to finally relax with the knowledge that he loved being near you just as much as you loved being near him.

”Ok…I’m done…I think?” You hear Tango’s voice from behind you. You haven’t really been paying attention to the movie much, instead just enjoying the redstoner's company, so you lean over and grab the hand mirror.

”Aww, I love it.” You giggle a little,  “But…maybe don’t quit your day job, hot stuff.” You tilt your head up to see his reaction, and he just rolls his eyes and snickers before leaning down and closer to your face.

”Is it good enough to get a little somethin’ at least? For trying?” He smirks, leaning just a little closer. Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you smile and sit up, turning slightly, before gently grabbing his collar, and meeting him in the middle. And you swear, when his lips hit yours, you feel fireworks.

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[hmshermitcraft]

Zed doesn't talk a lot about his parents.

All his partners know, is that what happened with them left Zed with a really bad way of coping with his emotions (see: bottle it up)

He's slowly been getting better, especially with the ITS helping, but he can't help but feel awful whenever he accidentally blows up at tango

Zed will be happy. He'll be happy and cheerful and then it's like something clicks and suddenly he's angry, he's crying, he's a wreck. And worst of all, he's usually terrified. Like showing those emotions was a misstep at all - not even counting what he does because of them.

It's... Something his partners like to think they're helping with. Finding ways for Zed to express his emotions before they reach boiling point. Impulse suggests writing them down and burning them. Tango provides a lot of stress toys. Skizz buys Zed a journal!

It's all small steps. They're all encouraging Zed to use them. But he's never going to be a lost cause to them just because he has emotions. That's part of went they love him!

[nix-writes-mcyt]

Reunited

Oneshot Tango x Reader Contains: Fluff -----------------------

With a sigh, you rise from your seated position, checking the clock again. 10.03am. Mornings are long these days, and not just because it's summer.

No, that's how it would be anyway. But these mornings drag even more. These mornings are unusually quiet and uneventful. You have no Tango to make them anything else.

He's been gone for so long now. At this point, you've lost track of the weeks, but it's got to be nearing three months now. Perhaps that's passed already.

At first, you kept going as per usual, seeing hermits you'd normally see, getting in on the community projects. Lately you just haven't had the motivation. You've not even ventured outside your base.

You spend much of your time in the cottage you built for Tango and you at the beginning of the season. You've added a few things to the grounds outside since Tango has been gone, but nothing major. You don't want to remove all the Tango from this space.

It's safe to say you miss him. No one can doubt that.

You glance out of the window as you walk past, the giant silhouette of Deep Frost Citadel no longer intimidating. At this point it only brings you sorrow.

You've spent many an hour staring from various windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of the one you love. Hoping he will come home at last. Sometimes you think you see something moving in the distance, but who knows? Maybe you're too far away to tell.

Your communicator beeps quietly in your pocket, it's not an uncommon occurance but it doesn't happen often still. Every now and then someone will check up on you, see if you're okay since you're not venturing out as much any more. That's what you expect this message will be too.

You're pleasantly surprised when it isn't. When the message reads - <Xisuma> I'll be 5 minutes, be ready to leave. Or else ^.^

The threat and uncharacteristically cute face give you mixed messages, but you decide you'd rather be safe than sorry. X isn't very threatening, sure, but while you don't think he'd hurt a fly you've never seen him in that situation to be sure.

So you move away from the window and go sort yourself out for company.

Before you know it there is a pounding at the door, you find yourself pulling on your footwear and trying not to smack your face into the wall as you rush to silence the knocking.

Xisuma looks unimpressed, or so you think behind the mask anyway, pulling you out of the house.

"We'll I'm at least glad I didn't have to drag you out of the house." He says, the slightest hint of amusement in his voice. The emphasis on the word 'you' seems strange, but you decide not to question it.

Xisuma gives you some coordinates, just in case, but tells you to just follow him and it'll be easier. He shoots off into the sky, making flying look easy.

You've not flown in some time. While there is some muscle memory it's certainly rough going. You're a little all over the place for the first five minutes, but you settle back into it fast enough.

The landing isn't particularly smooth, not at all. You almost go flat on your face, but manage to save it last minute and roll.

Xisuma helps you up, not uttering a word or any kind of an expression. Once you're on your feet he immediately sets off walking.

You follow behind him as best you can, relying on the small path. Here the trees are thick, the spruce forest pretty dense. It's beautiful though, the dark green of the leaves glowing from the sunlight above. Moss covers most of the podzol, small white flowers managing to grow over the layer of green.

You haven't been walking for long when Xisuma comes fully back into sight, a clearing up ahead.

Here you're able to see the sky once again, but that's not the most impressive feature. There is grass here, mixed with the moss, on it grows many many flowers of all different colours.

Hidden in the tree line you spot a small building, but see no door for it. Not that it seems you'll be going over there.

X pulls out a picnic blanket, laying it in the center of the clearing. "Care to sit?" He suggests, nodding in approval when you take a seat on the blanket.

Then Xisuma leaves without a word, moving towards the small building. You think of asking him what he's doing but decide not to. That's a man that works in mysterious ways.

Being alone again makes you miss home. You haven't left in so long, not that it isn't nice to, it's just who knows how far you are from Tango.

You can feel the sadness that comes with that thought rising in you. Xisuma disappears and you sigh deeply, choosing to focus on the trees just past the building.

This keeps you occupied until Xisuma reappears. Not that he really looks like himself, the helmet and armour is gone or covered up by long, black robes lined with blue. His eyes glow frosty in the darkness cast by his hood.

This isn't Xisuma at all. This is "Tango?"

"The one and only, my love." He takes a seat in front of you, taking down his hood. His hair is a mess, you can see the dark circles that have formed under his eyes. He looks paler now than he ever has. But it is, unmistakably, Tango.

You forget any sadness, any anger that you haven't seen him sooner. All you feel is happiness in this moment. Especially as he shuffles and pulls you into his side for a hug.

  "I'm sorry it's taken so long to do this. I lost track of time in the dungeon." His voice is sincere, you know he's not lying. You had also lost track of the time in your own home waiting for his return.

"I would have waited forever to see you again." You say in return. Your eyes meet Tango's, his expression is still sad.

"I know you would, as I would for you. But let's be honest, all this time apart hasn't done either of us very good." You nod in agreement. It's not like he's wrong.

The time apart has done a number on you both, it seems silly when you look at it in hindsight. All the problems being apart for so long has caused. You can't change that now, but Tango speaking once again fills you with hope.

"I'm coming home. Every night. No excuses. I even got a Bdubs Offical.' Tango smiles now, a smile you've missed dearly. He waves the clock around, taking the time to point out the Bdubs signature on the back.

You wrap your arms around him, the joy you feel taking over your entire body. Tango holds you just as tight, as if to say he wasn't going to let go again.

You make a mental note to thank Xisuma for bringing you here, for just generally being there for you. It's good to have friends that care about you. It's good to have Tango back If he belongs.

[dvskf4llz]

Hi happy pride moth!! <3

Can i requeat a tango x short raccoon male reader who is exactly like him (pathetic mad scientist everyone loves, probably eats redstone) and everytime tango flirts with him he gets all blushy and his fur gets poofy

AGH YESSS I LOVE THISSS

We love our mad scientist that may or may not eat redstone

My silly little raccoon

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TW: nothing too bad. SFW. tango being extremely flirty, tango teasing reader

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You loved Tango, a lot. You and Him were literally meant for each other, you 2 had a lot in common.

You were a scientist, he was a scientist aswell. You both have a passion for redstone, both of you caught each other eating redstone a few times.. Ok maybe more than a few, but anyway.

You both loved working on little projects together, they usually involve redstone.

During those projects, Tango liked to flirt with you randomly just to get a reaction out of you. He found it extremely cute whenever your fur poofed up everytime he had flirted with you, it made him laugh. He especially finds it cute whenever you start angrily pouting when he laughs at your fur poofing up a lot as you blush, he pats your head and gives you a kiss on the cheek. You immediately switch moods after he gives you a kiss.

You both like to give each other little kisses randomly, mostly during when you both are working together. It can be just a small little kiss on the lips or a kiss on the cheek.

Everytime Tango had to do something like working on a project involving redstone, he likes to have you in the same room or even helping him in anyway you can.

Tango just loves making contraptions for you, a few times he's made a very simple machine for you that would pop out a note and it would have motivating or flirty words written on them such as: "𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 <3" "𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓸 𝓬𝓾𝓽𝓮 ;)" "𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓭𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝓮 ᰔ". It was extremely cute. He once made a machine that launched fireworks spelling "I love [Name] ♡", you gave him lots of cuddles after that.

-------------------------------------------

𝓘𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮:

You were just doing the usual, doing your scientist things, eating redstone from time to time, you know.

Tango just popped out of nowhere and started flirting with you.

"Did you know that your so cute when you work?"

"It's adorable seeing your little expressions and reactions."

"Your so hot you know?"

You then shut him up with a kiss on the lips, which worked a lot.

Everytime he pulled a stunt like that, you would just be shutting him up with multiple kisses. He gets flustered by them so.

One day, you decided to scare the crap out of Tango being sneaking up on him.

"BOO!" You yelled as you pop out from the ceiling, Tango got extremely startled as he screamed and almost fell backwards. He was panting like crazy, you gave him a real fright. Meanwhile, you were just laughing so hard.

He glared at you for a moment which made you stop laughing, he then start laughing as he rolled his eyes.

"You're such a nuisance sometimes." He said, chuckling. You pouted at that, he brought you in a hug and patted your head.

"I'm kidding I'm kidding." He said, you hugged him back

"You're such a silly little raccoon." He said

"But you're my silly little raccoon that I love so much." He said smiling down at you lovingly, you smiled back at him.

"I love you too." you said back, Tango leaned in for a kiss. You 2 shared a soft yet loving kiss, once you pulled away you 2 couldn't stop smiling widely like idiots.

You then cuddled together for the rest of the day <33

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well- hope you enjoyed that. I did not know what to do for the end TT

I'll post another one in a bit!

The end sounds a bit cheesy but ehhh- i didn't know what to do TT.

Hope this is what you wanted anon!- I might rewrite this and my other oneshots when I have more free time.

[ivyprism]

Happy Birthday, @skele-fucker!

Don't imagine Tango watching you dance on the sidelines. He keeps a focused attention on your moves. He nods his head to the beat as he sits. Eventually, your dance comes to an end and he comes to you. He offers you a hand. A simple gesture, but you take it. Though mildly confused, until he pulls you in for a dance. You know he likes to tango, but you didn't expect him to mix ballet with it. He moves smoothly with you.

"Happy birthday, my love." Tango hums as he dances with you. You blink and blush a bit as he spins you and moves with your moves. Eventually, however, your dance comes to an end and he takes you home. He gestures for you to walk inside and you oblige. That is when you see a wonderfully set up dinner table with a gift settled right on the middle of it. You ask him what this is and he simply says. "Your present."

You sit down at the table as he sets out food after cooking it. He gives you the gift again and as you open it, it's a pair of necklaces. You notice there are engravings on it. You look up at him.

"I decided that we should have a matching pair of necklaces. I decided our names were fine engravings." Tango huffs as he glances at you. "Happy birthday, my love."

[beardedhotchner]

El Tango De Roxanne

(Part 1 of Spencer Reid x Prostitute!Reader)

Part 2

A/N: You all voted. And I provide. This is Part One of the series! Not alot of Spencer interaction for this first chapter. But i promise its leading somewhere!! I hope you enjoy, Amia xxx

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Prostitute!Reader

Summary: Songfic inspired by El Tango de Roxanne - Reader is a prostitute and worries her pimp will kill Spencer if he knows they've fallen in love. Reader has to push Spencer away, but he's too busy getting upset that she might be having sex with someone other than him.

T/W: Prostitution, trafficking (?), physical abuse, sexual abuse, reclamation of Reader's body(she reclaims herself and her wants),

Background: Spencer and Reader met in a elevator in a hotel the team were staying in. He didn't realise she was a hooker until after but he never made her feel bad about it. She felt seen for once in her life. Spencer began to pay for evenings with her, just talking at first, then Reader asks to go further, wanting something for the first time in her life. They began to date, their meetings still hiding under payments from Spencer.

Getting the short text was standard by now, no frills or faff, you should know that.

Saint Marcus, 103, morning.

It wasn't very difficult to decode. Hotel Saint Marcus. Room 103. You'd be there all night till tomorrow morning. Must be someone important if they could afford all night with you. That wasn't a brag. Just that you knew you were a more highclass type of prostitute. No alleyway blow jobs. No standing on a corner of a rough street waiting for anyone to pull up next to you.

No. You had matured from that. When you were barely 16, it was different. Business men and governers weren't willing to be seen with a young girl. But now? At 25, they couldn't care less. Old enough that it wasn't multiple felons if we were caught, young enough to have that innocence they all craved.

Even if they could barely hold on for a few minutes whilst with you, they were more than happy to pay the full time, buying your silence. You almost felt sorry for them. Almost.

Pulling up to the hotel in your pimp's car, he shot you a veiled threat, again like always. Reginald (aka Reggie, to the younger girls, and Reg, to you, "his favourite girl") was a tall, dark, and handsome man. Impatient. Messy. Not in his appearance but more the way he handles things. Quick. Impulsive. But calculated. Over the years, under his "care," you had noticed his pattern. He acts aloof, makes you trust his intentions. You keep on his good side, you only see that. You stray, or you make too many easy mistakes? Or god forbid, a client refuses to pay? Reg doesn't let that stand. That's when the fire comes out, that dark side he hides so well with well timed jokes and his handsome face.

"Don't fuck it up, Angel." Reg says, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. Shiver going down your spine, the girl next to you stares at him wide eyed. You didn't need to reply, but you did, showing her she didnt need to be scared. It was something he liked about you: your brazen attitude. It was also something he despised, too. But for now, he was in a good mood, easy smile on his face.

"Of course, Reg. Can't expect nothin' less from your angel." You took the young girls hand, both of you blowing a kiss to Reggie. Letting his security guard open the door, you step out delicately with the grace of years practising behind you. Callie, the young girl now beside you, was less graceful. New to the job, she wouldn't usually be given a client like this. However, arriving together made her less noticeable. Similar in looks, you could pass as sisters, so Reg decided for her to come with you. Gave you both a backstory without having to think too hard.

You approached the desk with confidence. Callie in a soft mini skirt and blazer, lined with big clunky jewellery, trembled softly. You speak loud and clear, your tailored little black dress and your designer bags adding to the look you tried to project. No, of course you weren't whores. You belonged here. "Hello. Two rooms were booked for us. Both under Ms Vivaldi. 103 and 106."

The receptionist nods, sliding two keys to you, "103 and 106..." She began to rattle off the complimentary activities and things in the hotel, "....free continental breakfast and a swim up bar in our main outside pool." Only the last two piqued your interest, making a short note of them in case your client was a heavy sleeper. That way, you could sneak out to breakfast and for a swim before Reg come to get you both.

Callie shook in the elevator ride, her voice hushed and scared, "What do I do? I'm so used to the corner." She was a liability. And you knew it. Reggie was testing your loyalty. Would you choose a fellow whore or the man that protects you? You know what he wants you to choose, that's why your voice is kind but steady.

"Stop it." You raise an eyebrow at her, giving her a moment to slow her breathing before continuing, "He'll be expecting you to do well. So do it. Hold your head up high. It's the same here as if it was a motel, babe." You gave her hand a small squeeze, youre voice dropping to a whisper, "Reg is good at this. He'll give you an easy start." She nods, but you can tell she doesn't believe you. It's too late though. The doors open and you're at our floor. "You're okay." You mutter. You walk together down the hall, finding your rooms with ease.

Waiting until Callie is at her door, you smile softly before you both step into your rooms. You look around the room, seeing no sign of life. No bags. No shoes. The bathroom door is open and you can see there's no one there... As if by magic you're phone goes off with a text.

How's a night off sound? X

You chuckle as you realise what has happened. Your incredibly sexy and smart boyfriend has booked you for the night. Although, technically he was miles away from you doing his job, Spencer Reid had made sure you didn't spend your usual date night in someone else's arms.

You're son of a bitch. X

You love me for it. X

For a man usually so incredible with words, when it came to you, he got tongue tied. Even just over text, the man was crazy about you. And you, him.

You had tried to keep to your rules. You dont kiss on the lips, too intimate. You dont take any drugs, food or drink they offer you, easiest way to be trafficked or worse... You don't fall for clients, too messy. You don't let them buy you gifts, they think you owe them or they own you. You kept to your rules. They made it possible to do this job. And after 9 years, it was impossible to not have some form of emotional protection for yourself.

But Spencer.... Spencer tore it all down. He buys you things he spots. Anything that reminds him of you, and he never expected anything back. You had let Spencer buy you dinner, make you drinks. He would never drug you, so you trusted him. Falling for him... now, that started slowly. Loving him felt as natural as the rain. Light drips when you met and just talked for hours in hotel rooms just like this. Then the drips got heavier, you kissed him, properly, like no other man. You were caught in a beautiful storm when you first slept together. The swirling of emotions like wind. Your raindrops falling around you both, encasing you in.

He was the thunder. You were the lightening. It didn't matter how far apart you were. Coming back together was always just as intense.

Envelope is on the pillow. X

You find it straight away, a chunky envelope filled with cash, paying for your company tonight. Even if he wasn't actually here. You smiled softly, typing out your reply.

That's so sweet, Spence. When do you think you'll be home? X

You didn't live with Spencer, as much as he wanted you too. You couldn't risk it. It was much easier to keep your crappy rundown apartment that Reg found for you. You couldn't afford to move in with Spencer and contribute meaningfully. Not that Spence would ever care. That man would bend heaven and earth for you.

If it was his choice, you'd be at his apartment, his little housewife. No soliciting, no clients, no worries. He would take care of you. You wanted that. You did. But you couldn't risk his safety... Reg wouldn't give you up easily, and if Spencer bought you from him, bought your freedom... it would just feel like history repeating itself. From one owner to another.

Soon, my love. We wrapped up the case tonight, we're on the jet, about an hour away from landing. X

You felt your inside go gooey at his use of the petname and couldn't help the blush spreading across your face. Finally kicking off your heels and sitting down on the plush bed, you peeled off your dress, chucking it to the floor.

Does that mean you might have time to meet me here? Take advantage of your nude girlfriend in a big hotel room? X

You knew Spencer was blushing at his phone, even when you couldn't see him. You loed to tease him. But disappointment fills your stomach when his next message appears on screen.

Not tonight, love. As much as I would love to, I've gotta deal with paperwork before I get to go home. I'm sorry. X

Okay. No problem. X

You were upset, but not at Spencer. More yourself for getting your hopes up. However you now had an entire night to yourself. So hopefully you'll get some rest and maybe sneak in a swim tommorow morning before breakfast. Then you and Callie would be out of here in the back of Reg's car.

You tucked yourself away in the sheets on the bed, sighing as the soft mattress enveloped you.

I miss you. Let me know you landed safe. I'm going sleep now. X

I miss you more. Sleep tight. I'll let you know when I'm back at home too. X

You're awoken by loud banging on your hotel door. Wrapping a sheet around yourself, you check the peephole before opening the door. Callie stood there, with tears streaked down her face, Reginald behind her, his grip on her arm sure to leave bruises.

"Bastard tried to strangle her to death and leave without paying." Reg shoves her forward by her arm. "Calm her down." He didn't need to say much more. He trusted you to make sure she wasn't going to freak out and run to the police. Him and "his men" would be out looking for the punk that thought he could do this to one of Reggie's Girls. You were quickly to catch Callie, holding her up with one arm, the other holding up your sheet. Reg chucked you his credit card, barking an order to eat something, before turning on his heel and stalking down the hall. He wasn't stupid, he only trusted two people other than himself with his card. You and his favourite person, his daughter, Lexi. You only got trusted with it because every opportunity he gave you to run, you stayed. Most girls would see an out and try to escape. You didn't, you were smarter than that. Any chance for escape was always a test of loyalty. Reg liked that you weren't the type to run, that why you were his Angel. And the other girls were just that: other girls.

Shutting the door behind Reg and his security, you pulled Callie to your now messy bed, "Let me see?" you ask gently, reaching to guide her hands away from her neck. She nods, her hands finding yours. Your hands were delicate, moving her head side to side as you checked over her skin. Red marks on her neck, sure to bruise up soon. Small red lines from strained blood vessels in her face. Red eyes. Scratch marks on her neck as if she's clawed at her clients. No. Her attacker's hands.

You order you both some food using the small hotel phone. Once you're done, you hear her ask, "Is he mad at me?" Her voice was tiny, her eyes wide... almost innocent but marred with the same haunted look you girls all do. Her hands still cling to your left, your right holding her cheek.

"No. He's not mad at you." You weren't lying. Not this time. Reggie wouldn't take this out on Callie, he'd be annoyed but not mad. "He's pissed off that someone hurt you and ran off without paying. He's not mad at you. But..." You paused, you liked Callie. So you wanted to help her react to Reg right. To make him see her as more than a warm body, like he did with you. "When he comes back, look at the ground by his feet. Don't cry but look sad. Bite your lip and apologise. Say 'I'm sorry this happened to you, sir.' Even though this isn't your fault. Reg will... well he'll prefer it if you look upset, like you're mad at yourself for disappointing him." Callie nods, from what you can tell, she takes it on board. She knows you rarely give advice on Reggie's mannerisms.

"Thank you," She smiles softly at you, squeezing your hands before she let's go. You pull on some clean underwear and a dress from your bag, you know Reg likes. Dropping the sheet back on the bed, you pull the dress on, fixing your hair and doing your makeup. Callie realises your idea, and follows suit, covering the marks up as best she can with your help. You hold the door open as a bellboy brings in your breakfast. As soon as he leaves, you both dig in. "This better?" She asks, moving her head so you can inspect her neck.

"Perfect. Reg will want us to pack up and be ready to leave." Callie nods, eating quickly. She wasn't used to such treatment from Reggie. She was used to being dumped on a street corner.

You were once like her, then you started learning his patterns: knowing who he trusts, what he loves, what to avoid. His favourite color is red. So you wear his favourite red dress to calm him down. You curl your hair the way he likes, subtle makeup, not too heavy. You know he notices when he steps back into the room, his hand finds a place on your hip. You hand him your envelope and Reg nods, he doesn't bother counting it. Just pulls out a chunk and hands it too you. It's more than you're usual cut and he smirks at your reaction. "Reg, I can't-"

He cuts you off with a flick of his hand, turning to Callie, "Bastard was found. Got the money back. He got a beating for hurting one of my girls." He hand goes to cup her face and you see her look to the floor, following your earlier instructions.

"I'm sorry this happened to you, sir." Reg nods, taking her obedience as a good sign. His eyes look to you and he knows you've taken Callie under your wing. A small smirk plays at his lips, his arm goes around Callie, a gesture he usually saves for you. You smile at him warmly, as if thanking him. He squeezes Callies hip gently, urging her to walk with him. You nod to her when her eyes find you.

Reg leads you both out of the hotel and if by some kind of divine intervention, several SUVs and police cars wait for you in the street. Callie reaches for you and you two cower away from the masses as Reg is forced into cuffs. Several of his team sit in the back of cop cars and Callie trembles next to you. And as if your morning couldn't get any worse, before Reg is out of earshot, your name is called out from a crowd of agents in vests.

Several pairs of eyes turn to you: first, Reg's harsh ones, Callie's full of betrayal, the confused agents crowding around what you can now see is Spencer Reid. You're almost horrified as you realise.

Your boyfriend has just arrested your pimp.

Fuck.

[bat-mom-writer]

Four Left Feet

(Sons) Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne X

Reader(mom)

Bruce Wayne(husband) X Reader(wife)

Summery: You want to teach your sons tango, but it turns into a mess of fun.

Rating: Fluff

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"Why we doing this again?" Tim mumbled, tugging at his collar as he stared down at his feet.

"Yeah, it's not exactly a Bat-skill," Jason quipped, earning a playful swat on the arm from Dick.

You, watched the three young men with a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. Dick, ever the charmer, had agreed to the lessons with ease. Tim, the cautious one, was probably just here to appease you. Jason, well, you hadn't quite figured out his angle yet. Damain, the youngest, was still too young to fully grasp the concept of dance, let alone tango.

"Because, my dear wards," you began, your voice as smooth as silk, "grace and poise are just as important as strength and strategy." you gestured to the grand ballroom, the chandeliers casting a warm glow over the gleaming wooden floor. "Besides, I've seen you four dance before at charity galas. We're just… fine-tuning your skills."

"Fine," you said, turning on the music. The dramatic opening notes of a tango filled the room. You stepped forward, extending your hand to Dick, who took it with a grin. "Now come here, I'll show you how it's done."

Dick's posture straightened as he stepped closer, your palms touching. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the room around you melted away. "Your left foot forward," you instructed, guiding his leg with yours. "Now, right, left." Dick followed your lead, his movements surprisingly graceful for someone who'd spent more time fighting in the shadows than gliding across a dance floor. You felt a surge of pride. Maybe he had picked up some moves from watching Bruce.

The tension grew as you stepped back, pulling him closer. "To the right," you say, your breath brushing against his cheek. The tango was a dance of passion and control, and it was clear that Dick was trying his best to master it.

Tim, Damian, and Jason watched on, their initial skepticism giving way to curiosity. "Okay, okay," Dick said with a playful smile, finally finding his rhythm. His movements grew more confident, his steps quickening to match the tempo of the music. The smile on your face grew wider.

With a dramatic flourish, Dick spun you around. The fabric of your dress fluttered out like a cloud of moonlight. As he pulled you back in, your bodies connected in a perfect arc, the tension palpable. The way he moved, the way he led, it was as if he'd been born for this.

Jason's eyebrow shot up, a hint of admiration in his gaze. "Alright, I might just have to give this a try," he said, taking a step forward. His tone had shifted from mocking to competitive.

You turned to him, holding out your hand. "Come here," you said, your smile challenging.

Jason grinned and stepped up, taking your hand. He didn't even pretend to do the tango, instead opting to mess around, pulling you into a series of improvised moves. His movements were rough around the edges, but there was a playful grace to them that spoke of a natural athlete.

"You're not even trying," you chuckled, trying to keep your balance.

"I'm just not a 'tango' kind of guy," Jason said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Now follow my lead. One, two, five, ten, four."

You couldn't help but laugh as you allowed him to lead you through his chaotic improvisation. He was a whirlwind of energy, making up steps as he went, turning the elegant dance into a playful romp around the ballroom. Despite the lack of structure, there was something infectious about his enthusiasm, and you found yourself enjoying the moment.

"And now, for the show stopper," Jason said, his grip on your hand tightening. Before you could protest or ask what he had in mind, he dipped you low, your back almost parallel to the floor. You let out a gasp of surprise that turned into a laugh as he held you there, his strength surprisingly gentle. The room tilted around you, the chandeliers spinning in a dizzying display of light.

"Jason!" you exclaimed, your heart racing, but his smirk told you he had it all under control. With a swift pull, he brought you back up to standing, your cheeks flushed with excitement.

With a smirk still playing on his lips, Jason executed a dramatic bow, the kind that would have earned him a standing ovation from a Broadway audience.

"Your turn, Tim," you said, turning to the youngest of the bunch, who was now watching with a mix of envy and apprehension.

Tim took a deep breath and stepped up, his eyes darting to Dick and Jason before returning to yours. You placed one hand in his and rested the other on his shoulder. "Don't worry, I've got you."

As the music began, Tim's gaze remained glued to the floor, his eyes flicking up only briefly to check on yours. His steps were tentative at first, as if the floor might give way beneath him.

"Relax, Tim," you murmured, your voice a gentle encouragement.

Tim nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. The music swelled, and you began to guide him through the steps, moving slowly to help him find his rhythm. His movements were rigid at first, his mind likely racing with thoughts of missteps and embarrassment. But as the song progressed, you could feel him start to let go, his body loosening up as he began to trust both you and the music.

"Look at me," you instructed, lifting his chin with a gentle touch. His eyes met yours, and you saw the fear begin to dissipate, replaced by a flicker of determination. You stepped back, pulling him closer in a traditional tango embrace. "You're doing great."

Tim's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, but he managed a small smile. As the music grew more intense, so did the dance. You could feel him trying to keep up, his movements becoming more fluid as he allowed the music to guide him. His steps grew surer, his body moving in time with yours, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest.

"Good," you said, your voice low and encouraging. "I believe I could make a tango dancer out fo you yet."

Tim's eyes widened in surprise, and he stumbled slightly, breaking the rhythm. "Don't push it," he murmured, his smile a little self-conscious.

You rolled your eyes playfully, then chuckled. "Oh, come on. You can do better than that." With a sudden, surprising twirl, you spun him around, watching as his expression shifted from concentration to shock, and then back to determination.

Tim's feet stumbled a bit, but he quickly regained his footing, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound intensity. "I thought I was the gentlemen here," he said with a smirk.

You winked at him. "Sometimes, it's good to keep everyone on their toes. Sometimes literally."

Damian watched the two of you with curiosity, his young eyes taking in every move. He tapped his foot in time to the music, the only indication that he was absorbing the lesson. He was still too young to truly understand the dance, but the rhythm called to him, and he was eager to join in.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. Despite being Bruce's biological son, he was the most unpredictable of the bunch. "Alright, little one," you said, holding out your hand. "Let's see what you've got."

Damian looked up at you with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. He was only eight, and his understanding of the tango was probably limited to what he'd seen in cartoons, but you had a feeling he'd surprise you. He took your hand, his small palm fitting perfectly in yours.

"Okay," you said, crouching down to his level. "We're going to start slow." The music softened, a more gentle tune playing to suit his age. "Just follow me. Left foot, right left, good."

Damian's eyes narrowed in concentration as he stepped in time with the beat. His movements were awkward, his feet stumbling over themselves occasionally, but he had a fiery determination in his eyes that was impossible to miss.

"Good," you said, keeping your voice soft and encouraging. "Remember, it's about the passion, not the perfection."

Damian scoffed, his little brows furrowed in concentration. "I have passion," he said, trying to mimic the intense gaze you'd shared with the others. "But I do not find it in this… tango."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing through the ballroom. "Fine," you said, ruffling his hair gently. "But keep an open mind. You never know when you might need to charm a lady at a gala."

"Mother, I'm eight," Damian said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "The only woman I would find myself dancing with is Jason."

The room erupted in laughter, even Jason couldn't help but chuckle at the innocent jab. "Hey! I have you know I would look dashing in a dress," he said, striking a dramatic pose.

You couldn't hold back your laughter any longer, it bubbled out of you like a fountain, filling the air with warmth. "Oh, you certainly would," you said, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. "But let's focus on the tango, shall we?"

"Yes, let us get back to work," Jason said, a glint in his eye. "Now step out of the way, Mother," he teased, gently pushing you aside. "Let the master be the teacher. Come here, Damian."

Before Damian could protest, Jason had him scooped up in his arms, his little legs dangling in the air. You watched, a mix of amusement and concern playing across your face.

"Jason, what are you doing?" you asked, trying to keep your tone light.

"Teaching him the 'Bat-Tango' move," he said with a wink.

Damian's eyes widened as Jason held him close, moving him through the air in a series of twists and turns that were more acrobatic than graceful. The boy's laughter filled the room, echoing off the high ceilings at Jason's movements.

"Put me down!" he squealed, his giggles only adding to the chaos.

"The trick is to not put your dance partner down for any reason," Jason said to the others, as he spun him around in mid-air.

Dick, ever the showman, took your hand again. "Well, whatever teachers say," he quipped, and before you had a chance to react, he swept you into the air, your legs hanging lose. Your heart skipped a beat, a thrill shooting through you as he whirled you around the room.

"Dick!" you exclaimed, half in protest, half in delight. His arms were strong around you, moving with the same precision and grace as when he fought crime as Nightwing. The world around you was a blur of color and light as he danced with you in a way that defied gravity.

Jason fake gasps, stilling holding Damian, "You dare to challenge the 'Bat-Tango'?"

"I do," Dick said, his eyes gleaming with mischief, "And not only do I, but I dare say, I do it better."

With that, he spun you around faster, your dress billowing out around you like a cloud of silk. The wind from the spin kissed your cheeks, your hair swirling in a dance of its own. You gasped, half in shock, half in exhilaration.

"Is that all you've got, Grayson?" Jason called out, noticing the heightened tempo. He swung Damian around with surprising agility.

"I'm going to be sick," Damian complained, his little face a mix of excitement and queasiness.

"This should be called the 'Ragdoll-ango,'" Tim quipped, watching from the sidelines as Jason continued to whirl Damian around in a series of moves that were more suited to a circus act than a dance floor.

"You dare in the Bat-tango?" Jason repeated, his voice filled with mock indignation as he set Damian down gently. The little boy stumbled a bit, his legs wobbly from the dizzying experience, but his eyes were alight with excitement. "For your insulative comment, you're my next partner."

With that, Jason reached out and grabbed Tim, who squeaked in protest. "I was joking!"

But Tim's protests fell on deaf ears as Jason whirled him around in a series of moves that were more wrestling than tango. The room was filled with laughter and the sound of their footsteps echoing off the polished floors.

"Okay, okay! Put me down before I throw up on you!" you called out to Dick, your voice a mix of playfulness and actual dizziness. Dick set you down gently, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the dance. "Show-off," you murmured, though your own smile was just as wide.

"But you love me non the less," Dick quipped, his hand still holding yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand gently.

"Yes, I do," you replied, your voice filled with warmth. Despite the chaos, there was something beautiful in the camaraderie, in the way the boys had come to see this as more than just a dance lesson, but a chance to connect. You looked over at Tim, his cheeks flushed from the spinning. He was trying to regain his balance, his eyes on the floor as if the answers to his disorientation lay there.

"Okay, okay! Jason, I think you've tortured him enough," you called out, a hint of laughter in your voice.

Jason looked at Tim, his face a shade greener than before. "Oh, come on," he said, his grin not quite reaching his eyes. "It's all part of the training."

"Training for what?" Tim managed to ask, his voice wobbly. "Barfing in public?"

"Jason, drop him," you said, your tone firm but playful, as if you were speaking to a mischievous dog.

Jason's eyes narrowed slightly, and he bent his knees, preparing to set Tim down. But his grip didn't loosen. "Jason," you repeated, your voice a gentle warning.

Jason smirked, his eyes flashing with playful rebellion. "No, Jason." you said again, your voice carrying an underlying current of seriousness. But the look on his face told you that he had no intention of stopping his little game.

"Jason, no!" you called out, but it was too late. With a mischievous grin, he dashed away out of the ball room and into the hall, Tim's legs kicking in the air like a ragdoll.

Dick's eyes lit up with the chase, and before you could blink, he had scooped Damian up into his arms. "Come, little brother, we must save our brother from our brother!" he declared with a dramatic flair.

"Oh brother," Damian muttered, his expression a mask of feigned boredom. Dick sprints off after Jason, Damian being swung side to side with each stride.

You watch them disappear down the hall, the laughter fading into the distance. The ballroom feels eerily quiet in their wake, the music continuing to play but the dance floor now abandoned. You take a moment to catch your breath, a soft smile lingering on your lips.

"Guess I wouldn't get to teach any tango," you murmur to yourself, the words carrying a hint of amusement.

Suddenly the music began again, "Not with them at least."

You whipped around to find Bruch standing beside the sound system, a knowing smirk on his face. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching the chaos with a hint of amusement. You couldn't help but smile back at him. He'd been so busy with Wayne Enterprises that he'd missed the start of the lesson.

"I couldn't help but notice that we have a few… unorthodox… tango moves going on here," Bruce said, stepping onto the dance floor.

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist the smirk that tugged at your lips. "I had it all under control until Jason decided to turn it into an acrobatics show."

Bruce chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling in the chandelier light. He stepped closer, extending his hand to you. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Care to show me what you've been working on?"

You took his hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin against yours. As the music played on, you stepped into Bruce's embrace, your bodies moving together in perfect sync, as if you'd been doing this dance for years. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close, his eyes never leaving yours. The tension between you was palpable, a silent communication of trust and understanding.

"You tease," you say with a playful smirk, your voice low and intimate. "You already know how to tango."

Bruce raises an eyebrow, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly. "Do I?" he questions, the corners of his mouth lifting. He's footwork is precise, each step measured and deliberate. The dance floor seems to shrink around you as you glide in perfect unison. The tango is a dance of passion and control, and in that moment, you could feel the full extent of Bruce's control, not just in his dance, but in his life as well.

"Well, I'm a bit rusty." he admitted, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. But his movements said otherwise. He was as smooth and in command as the night he'd first swept you off your feet.

"Such a liar," you whispered, your eyes locked with his. His gaze was intense, as if he could see straight to your soul.

Bruce leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Am I?"

You met his gaze, a challenge in your eyes. "You're just showing off again."

"Only for you," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His movements grew more intimate, the tango becoming a silent conversation between your bodies. Each step was filled with a subtle tension that spoke of the love and trust that existed between the two of you. Despite the chaos of the evening, in this moment, it was as if you were the only two people in the world.

The music grew louder, the strings more insistent, as Bruce spun you around the room, the fabric of your dress swirling around your legs like a second skin. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and the faint smell of leather from your cloths, but it was the scent of Bruce, the scent of home, that filled your senses.

As the tango grew more intense, the boys' laughter and shouts from the hallway grew fainter, until it was just the two of you, dancing as if the fate of Gotham rested on the beat of your hearts. Bruce's grip was firm, yet gentle, guiding you through the intricate steps with a confidence that was as reassuring as it was thrilling.

With a dramatic dip, he lowered you, your back arching gracefully, your hair brushing the floor. The chandeliers above cast a dizzying pattern of light and shadow across the room, making it feel like you were dancing in the heart of a diamond. For a moment, you were suspended in time, the world around you fading away as you looked into the depths of his eyes.

Then, with surprising gentleness, he pulled you back up, your bodies molding together as one. The music grew softer, the steps more deliberate, as if the world had slowed to match the tempo of your hearts. You could feel the tension in the room shift, the playfulness of earlier replaced by something deeper, something raw and real.

Bruce's hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, his thumb tracing gentle circles. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his chest, the steady beat of his heart. The tango was a dance of passion, and in that moment, it was as if the dance had become a physical manifestation of your love.

The music reached a crescendo, and Bruce spun you out, only to pull you back in, your chests brushing together. The air was charged with energy, and the room seemed to hold its breath as you moved in perfect harmony. Your heart pounded in your chest, the thrill of the dance mirroring the excitement of your early days together, fighting crime side by side.

As the song approached its end, Bruce's steps grew more deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours. He leaned in, and for a moment, you thought he might kiss you, but instead, he whispered, "You're right, I am showing off."

You grinned, "Know it," and with that, the dance ended with a dramatic flourish, leaving you both standing in the center of the ballroom, breathless.

The sudden silence was broken by the distant sound of yelling, echoing down the hall. The laughter and shouts grew louder, and you couldn't help but worry that the boys had gotten into some kind of trouble.

You sigh, "Lovely while it lasted." The brief moment of tranquility dissipates as the chaos of your unconventional family life crashes back in.

Bruce's smile grew into a chuckle, his eyes alight with amusement. "Yes, it was," he said, his voice a warm rumble in the quiet room. "But the night is young, and I suspect we'll have more opportunities to dance like that."

The words hung in the air, a promise of future moments of shared intimacy and joy, a stark contrast to the life of shadows and danger they often led. You leaned into him, feeling the strength of his embrace, and whispered, "We shall dance again soon, Mr. Wayne."

With a chuckle, Bruce took a few steps back, his hand still holding yours, and bowed deeply, his eyes never leaving yours. It was a gesture that spoke of respect and affection, a reminder of the gentleman he was beneath the cape and cowl. "I await for it," he said, his voice filled with warmth and mischief. He kissed the back of your hand, his lips lingering for a beat longer than necessary. The touch was electric, sending a jolt through your body and igniting a fire in your soul.

You curtsied in response, your heart racing from the intimacy of the moment. "I'll hold you to that," you whispered, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

[levispersonalslave]

I Said, “You Pop that Gum One More Time. . .”

I Took the Shotgun Off the Wall, and Fired Two Warning Shots.

Trigger Warnings——mentions of murder, cursing, & arrest; major character death; depictions of emotional neglect; 1.1k wc; 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The courtroom is eerily quiet as the defense attorney rises, his polished shoes clicking against the marble floor. The judge watches from the bench, impassive, while the jury sits in rigid silence, their eyes fixed on you. The court stenographer’s fingers hover over the keys, poised to record every word.

The attorney adjusts his glasses before locking eyes with you, a mix of skepticism and calculation in his gaze. He turns briefly to the judge. “Your Honor, with the court’s permission, I would like to proceed with questioning the defendant.”

The judge gives a curt nod. “Proceed.”

The attorney paces slowly in front of the witness stand. “Let’s move on to the case at hand. You, the defendant, are accused of murdering your husband, Nagi Seishiro. Please recount, for the court, what transpired on the day of his death.”

You shift in your seat, the hard wood creaking beneath you. The weight of their eyes presses down on you, but it does little to faze you. Instead, your lips tighten into a cold, hard line as you lift your chin. Your voice is low—but beneath it, a simmering rage.

“You want me to explain?” Your eyes narrow. “Fine. I’ll tell you exactly what happened. But don’t go on thinkin’ you’ll understand.”

The attorney glances at his notes before returning his gaze to you. “The court seeks to understand the sequence of events. What led to your husband’s death?”

You tighten your grip on the edges of the witness stand, your knuckles white. The question seems almost insulting, like they think this is all some kind of game. You grind your teeth but push forward.

“You know how people have these little habits that just get on your nerves? Like Nagi, yeah?” Your lip curls into a snarl at the sound of his surname on your tongue. “Nagi always thought the world was a whole big game. He’d lie ‘round all day playin’ his games like he didn’t have a care in the world, and you can imagine how charming that got, right? But you know what? It’s not even the big stuff. It’s the little things that build up.”

A murmur ripples through the gallery. The defense attorney cocks his head, his face difficult to read. “Please clarify for the record. What behavior, specifically, caused you to act in the manner that you did?”

You stare at him for a beat, letting your words sink in. Your voice becomes bitter, and the memory of that moment creeps up like a hot, honed knife.

“I come home this one day, right? Real irritated after bustin’ my ass all day, lookin’ for just a little bit o’ peace. . . ‘n maybe some sympathy.” You lean forward slightly, your fingers tightening against the wooden railing. “I walk in, ‘n there’s Nagi—lyin’ on the couch, loungin’ around like he’s the king of the world. Phone in one hand, gum in the other, poppin’ it like it’s his personal symphony. And I’m sitting there, tryin’ not to lose it, but I’m already fuming. So I just watched ‘im. Poppin’ that damn gum.”

You hear a sharp inhale from the jury box. Your hands clench the stand tighter, knuckles bloodless with the strain. “‘N it just pushed me. Pushed me all the way.”

The attorney jots something down quickly, his voice measured and unwavering. “And you claim this behavior made you. . . snap?”

A scoff tumbles past your lips, your gaze hardening. “Snap? Hell yeah, I snapped. You don’t get it. I warned him, I said to ‘im, I said, ‘You pop that gum one more time. . .’ And what does he do? Popped it again. Like it was nothing. Like he didn’t even care.”

You lean in, voice sharp as a knife’s edge—almost a dare.

“So yeah, I lost it. What was I supposed to do, huh? Sit there and pretend like I wasn’t pissed off? That I wasn’t sick of it?”

The judge clears their throat, cutting through the silence. “The defendant will refrain from speculative commentary and answer the questions directly.”

You exhale sharply but nod. “Yes, Your Honor.”

The defense attorney glances up at you. “So you retrieved the weapon?”

You hold his gaze, your voice dropping to a furious murmur. “So I grabbed the shotgun off the wall ‘n. . .”

The courtroom is quiet. Every eye in the room is on you. The defense attorney leans in, sensing the shift in your energy.

“And you fired?” he asks carefully, as if testing the waters.

You hold his gaze, your voice dropping to a furious murmur. “I fired two warning shots.

“Into his head.”

A gasp erupts from the gallery. The attorney falters, visibly rattled, flipping through his notes as if searching for an anchor. He clears his throat and pushes on, though his voice has lost some of its certainty. “You didn’t hesitate at all?”

You don’t so much as blink as you respond. You feel the anger begin to bubble over. “No. I didn’t. It was either him or me. And I wasn’t about to be the one to sit there and take it anymore.”

A juror shifts uncomfortably, their gaze darting to the judge. Somewhere in the gallery, someone exhales a sharp, disbelieving sound. The attorney hesitates for the first time, tapping his pen against his notes. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“Don’t act like you don’t know how it feels,” you say, your words cutting through the tension like a blade of honed silver. “He kept goin’—kept poppin’ that gum like I was nothing, like I didn’t matter. He was treating me like a joke, and I just—” You trail off, your eyes flashing with fury.

A tense hush blankets the room. The jury watches you, their expressions ranging from horror to grim fascination. The defense attorney exhales, shaking his head slightly before he steps back toward his table.

“Let the record reflect that the defendant has admitted to firing the weapon. Defendant, do you have anything else to say in your defense?”

You sit back in your chair, a cold smile tugging at your lips. Your eyes sweep over the jury, the judge, the spectators. Your voice, when it comes, is quiet but unyielding.

“I already said it,” you reply, leaning forward slightly. “He had it comin’. He never took me seriously, never took anything seriously. So I ended it. Just like that.”

You let the weight of your words settle over the room, let them hang between them like a blade suspended by a thread. The silence has become deafening.

“‘N I’m not sorry. Not for him, not for anyone else. Just the way it had to be.”

The judge leans forward slightly, watching you carefully. The defense attorney sits down, disbelief and contemplation warring on his face. The courtroom remains still, the echo of your words lingering in the air.

The trial has only just begun. But the verdict—at least in their eyes—has already been written.

𝐼𝑛𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑔𝑜 𝑡𝑜, @/kaitycole

ᵎ!ᵎ 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑦 @/strangergraphics 𝑎𝑛𝑑 @/saradika-graphics ᵎ!ᵎ

⊱ 𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⊰ @the-traveling-poet , @pinkberryfox , 𝑑𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑑 ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

[rikiflrts]

Hi! I hope you're having a nice day or night <33

Would your yandere scara from stalker's tango be willing to share yn with someone who's kinda equal to him in terms of obsessiveness and smarts? Like he can't get rid of them without an issue unlike others and they are a yandere as well. Would he be willing to team up with them to keep yn in check or would he never even consider it an option-

Hello anon! I hope you're having a nice day or night as well. <3

I'm sorry for taking too long to reply! College has been putting me through tough shit. </3

Anyhow, that's actually a great question!

See, my yan!Scaramouche in Stalker's Tango is possessive to an extent; he isn't keen on sharing y/n (you) with anybody else, especially since I hc him to be heavily territorial as soon as he finally gets you all to himself after months of stalking/preparations.

He has an insufferable God complex. Even though you don't, he thinks you owe him big time for clearing out the obstacles in your life. He heavily believes that all his hard work should be rewarded, as he came this far to finally claim you as his, so to answer your question, no, he won't be willing to team up with others, even if they were also a yandere like himself.

I hc that he'd rather fight to the death with them. The last man standing would be the true worthy champion, and y/n would be the prize, of course.

But since there are more layers that I've yet to show you (which i will in the bonus chapter soon), yan!Scara would just get turned on from the bloodshed, tbh.

He doesn't need anybody's help to keep an eye on you, other than his shadows, his 'men' that work under their family name.

yan!scara would find a way to outsmart his rival, fooling them into thinking that they could get a chance with you once yan!scara was away (he really isn't) until he restrains his rival and makes him watch as he defiles you right in front of him.

[tilly-death]

Painful Moments

Request or Prompt: (by @StarlightFoxgirlie on AO3) “Can I request Gem/Pearl/Tango/GN!Reader HCs10

Rest up to you really, but I am a sucker for fluff & hurt comfort... Maybe reader gets injured while building & those 3 take care of them?”

Pairing: Gem x Pearl x Tango x GN! Reader

Includes: injuries, hurt/comfort, arguments, guilt, Gem blames things on Tango, angst, pos ending

Words: 2.7k

A/N: i love hurt/comfort fics so much. I like angst, if you guys couldn’t tell LMAOO wait, also, i know some people can't read italics and i didn't think about that, so if you can't let me know and I'll edit it to make it obvious where the itals are

You scrubbed angrily at your cheeks as tears slipped down them. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. Everything was okay. It was fine. You looked around at your surroundings, trying to orientate yourself. You were heading in the direction of your base. Okay, good. When you had left Pearl’s base, you had just stormed off in a random direction. You were mildly thankful that you had decided to run off in this direction. 

You kept walking towards your base. You wiped your eyes as you tried to keep your mind off what had just happened. It was supposed to be a short conversation to pass the time until Gem arrived, something that had been on your mind for a long time that you thought you should mention- the fact that you felt neglected, seeing as you lived on the opposite side of the map to your partners. It wasn’t something too serious in your head, just something you were mentioning because you missed them. Pearl had hummed softly, petting your head gently and saying that you were free to come over any time. Tango, on the other hand, had huffed out a laugh, commenting that it was your own fault that you were living so far away. It was a fair accusation. You had decided to live a bit farther away from your partners than normal. You frowned when he had said that, though, sighing.

“I just wish we could spend more time together. That’s all.” You said quietly, laying your head back against the couch cushions. Pearl nodded absentmindedly, as if she was about to fall asleep. Her eyes blinked slowly as she gave you a soft smile.

Tango rolled his eyes with a grin, “You could always just move back here. I told you not to move so far. It's not our fault you don’t spend time with us anymore. We’re almost always hanging out.”

Again, while it was a fair assessment, you felt a stab of hurt as you thought about it. He was right. He, Pearl, and Gem were constantly hanging out together since they were based so close together. Did they miss you as much as you missed them? You were so lonely where you had based, besides your few neighbors hanging out with you sometimes, but you had already started your megabase. It would be such a hassle to move it now and would send hundreds of hours down the drain. 

Pearl hummed absently, “You are a bit far.” She murmured. “We’ll need to visit more often.” Her eyes drifted closed and she buried her face in your shoulder. I nodded in agreement, turning to press a kiss to her cheek.

Tango scoffed, “I told you not to move so far away.” He repeated. “Your fault now.” It sounded harsher than he probably realized, but he didn’t correct his tone. You blinked at him softly, brows furrowing as you frowned at him.

“It was a pretty area and the things I have planned need a lot of room, you know that.” You said.

He huffed, rolling his eyes, “yeah, yeah, I know, I know. Your base and projects are more important than your partners.”

You paused. Was he serious or was he just making a really cruel joke? “Excuse you?”

Tango glanced at you. He had to be able to tell the sour mood he had inflicted on you. “You heard me! You moved all the way over there, even farther than freaking Joe and you didn’t even consider what it might do to our relationship.”

Pearl’s eyes opened, but you barely spared her any mind as you gaped at him in disbelief. “What it would do to our relationship?!” You repeated. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Am I wrong to assume that we’ll still be a loving couple even if I move a little farther than usual?”

“Oh, please, you had to know that it would strain us.”

You stood up from the couch, staring at him with pain-stricken eyes. Pearl glanced between the two of you with confusion, having not fully payed attention. The door opened and Gem walked in. She went to speak, but you spoke first, glaring at Tango. “You think our relationship is in a strain right now? What do you mean by that?” You hissed.

Gem stopped in her tracks, blinking in confusion. She moved over to the side, placing her things down. “Hey, woah, what’s this about a relationship being in a strain? We’re fine, aren’t we?”

Tango crossed his arms, “We would be if they weren’t so far away. If our relationship fails, it’s all their fault. Honestly, maybe we should just-” He quickly stopped talking, eyes wide as if he had said something he hadn’t meant to. His eyes snapped to yours.

You stared at him, frozen. Tears gathered in your eyes. You didn’t move. You couldn’t. Did he just say that? “Maybe you should just… break up with me?” You breathed, finishing his thought. “Is that what you were going to say?”

The room was tense. Pearl, finally caught up on the situation, looked at Tango with wide eyes. Gem was staring at you in panic. She spoke first.

“What, no! He didn’t mean that.” Her eyes darted to his. “Tell them you weren’t gonna say that! You were going to say something else, right?” He was quiet. His gaze moved to the floor. “Oh, oh, God.” She murmured, her tone filled with horror. 

“You- why would you say that?” Pearl asked quietly, leaning over to Tango. “Just because we are a bit… strained… doesn’t mean we’re going to break up with them.” 

Her words made you stare at her now. Has this been a conversation before? You let out a shaky breath, eyes darting between your three partners, “Have- Have you three been discussing the strain in our relationship?” You swallowed thickly. 

“No, no, no.” Gem assured. “We just- We’ve been talking about how we miss you a lot. Nothing about a strain.”

Pearl nodded slowly, agreeing. Tango pursed his lips and nodded before he spoke again. “We haven’t spoken about it yet.”

“Yet?” You repeated slowly. “So, it is a problem you need to talk about?” You wiped your cheek as a tear hit your skin. You shook your head. Your body moved before you could even react. It was childish, perhaps, running out into the darkness with no light or anything, but you did just that. As you ran, you didn’t even think about the fact that you had left your wings back at Pearl’s house. You didn’t think about how Gem and Pearl called your name from the porch. You did think about how you heard Gem turning on Tango, demanding why he had said those things to you. You tripped over a stick as you ran, slowing to a walk as you caught yourself. You had just messed up everything, hadn’t you?

Your house came into view and you quickly shielded yourself inside. You moved around quickly, completing menial tasks to keep any thoughts about Tango and Gem and Pearl off your mind. When you finished all your inside tasks, you huffed. You needed more to do. You scanned your house before your eyes fell on a blueprint you were working on. It was practically done, just missing a few small parts. You sat at your desk and worked on it diligently.

When you were done, you took a deep breath. Memories of what happened at Pearl’s base flooded into your mind and you bit your lip. More distraction was needed, it seemed. You hesitated before grabbing the blueprint and heading outside. The sun was slowly peeking over the trees around you at this point, providing enough light for you to see what was happening. You posted the blueprint on a post you had and started gathering materials.

Once the shulkers you had were full, you quickly began starting on the build. One block at a time. You worked quickly and diligently, focusing all your despair into your build. Your mind, admittedly, was not on the build at all, though. Your brain flashed with thoughts about the fight. Could that even be considered a fight? Was something like that grounds for breaking up? Were the three- your favorite people ever- going to break up with you? You hated that you didn’t know what was happening in people’s minds. You wished to know what Tango was thinking right now. Was he thinking of how to finally break up with you? Was he thinking about inviting you over and telling you he was sick of having to travel so far to visit you? That wasn’t like him, but you didn’t think he was capable of saying the awful things from last night, either.

Your heart stopped as your foot hit the end of the wall you were standing on. You slid off the side, yelping as your ankle twisted awkwardly. You fell off the wall. Hard. You groaned as you brushed hair from your face. You tried to sit up, but pain flooded your entire body. You laid still, groaning at the pain you were in. Great, now I’m going to die painfully. You thought to yourself. How could this day get any worse?

Apparently, the universe wanted to say a big fuck you. You raised your arm, ignoring all the pain you felt to try and contact someone on your communicator. With a swear, you realized your communicator was broken. A large crack down the glass on the screen that made it impossible to use. The screen was dark, too, so perhaps something else was wrong with it.

You laid there, trying not to cry. This had to be the worst day of your entire life. What could possibly be worse than this?

You had to stop asking yourself that.

The sky above you thundered and within a few minutes, rain started to pelt you from above. The sky, which just an hour ago was fully blue and clear, was dark and stormy. You felt the water soaking your clothes and making your hair wet. This was rock bottom. This was like bedrock, and nothing went farther than bedrock.

You laid there for a solid hour, in excruciating pain. You hoped someone would come by- a mob, even- to kill you. It would possibly take days to respawn, but at least you wouldn’t feel this much pain anymore. Alas, no such luck. Not a single zombie, creeper, or skeleton headed your way. 

You wanted to cry, scream, do something to help the pain. But nothing happened. The world around you was silent.

And then, you heard voices. Familiar ones.

“Tango, you are going to apologize to them so bad. I cannot believe you said something like that!” 

“It was stupid, I know! I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me! I would never want to break up with them.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to them when we- Oh!” Pearl gasped, running over to where you were laying, “Love, what happened?” Tango and Gem’s eyes widened as they saw what Pearl was talking about. The two rushed over, kneeling beside you. 

“I was building.” You mumbled. You were exhausted right now. “I wasn’t fully paying attention because…” You trailed off. They knew what you meant. “And I tripped and fell off. It hurts so bad.” You let out a low whimper.

Pearl scanned you quickly before glancing at her partners. “Gem, grab their legs. Tango, make sure you keep their midsection up.” Pearl instructed. “We’re going to move you inside the house, okay, darl?” You nodded, too exhausted to even respond at this point. The three of them got in their positions and lifted you. The pain was horrendous.

It felt like years before you were placed onto the couch in your home. Gem sat beside your head, petting your hair gently as Pearl hurried to gather supplies to make healing potions. Tango hesitated near the end of the couch, eyeing your situation. 

It was quiet. The only sound was the low whimpering you let out every few moments and Pearl’s use of the mortar in the kitchen. Then, Gem spoke.

“You shouldn’t have done that to them.” She said quietly. You blinked tiredly, trying to figure out what she meant. “You made them leave us and now look, they're hurt.”

Tango was quiet before he sighed, “You’re saying it's my fault?” He didn’t sound angry at the notion. In fact, he seemed to accept it as the truth. “It was. I don’t- I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I said those things.”

You wanted to say something. To tell him that it was okay. It hurt to hear him sound so defeated and in pain. But you couldn’t speak. After being in such bad pain for hours, you were too tired. Your eyes drifted shut and you fell asleep.

You woke up hours later to Pearl pouring a healing pot into your mouth. You sat up slightly to help it go down and you noticed a considerable amount of pain had left. You sat up fully, sitting normally. You peered around. Pearl moved to sit beside you and you noticed that Gem was leaning against the couch, sitting on the floor asleep. You bent over, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She stirred slightly, but ultimately, she burrowed into her sweatshirt. 

You glanced around the room. No sign of your fiery boyfriend. Your brows cinched. “Where is he?” You murmured quietly. 

Pearl hummed softly, placing the healing pot in your hand so you could drink the rest of it. “Outside. Said he needed some space. He… blames himself for you getting hurt.” She hesitated before sighing, “He didn’t mean it. He really didn’t. He told us he was overwhelmed and wanted to be with all of us, and then you started talking about how you missed us too and he just… I don’t know. He didn’t mean it.”

You nodded slowly. You downed the rest of the potion before standing. You wobbled lightly before you headed to the door. You walked out, finding Tango sitting on the steps of your base. His head was in his hands and he was mumbling to himself. You couldn’t decipher what he was saying.

“T?” You called quietly. You trailed over to stand behind him. His ears perked up, but he didn’t look up from his hands. You hesitated before moving to sit beside him. “Tango?”

He slowly pulled his head from his hands, peering at you. His eyes were rimmed with red. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, his voice cracking from crying. “God, I- I don’t- I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of it.”

“I know.” You replied softly. You moved slowly, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“You didn’t deserve that.”

“I didn’t.” You agreed.

It was quiet again. You heard the door open behind you and the two girls from inside appeared at your side. Pearl sat beside Tango, while Gem sat on the other side of you. Your hand reached for Tango’s. He hesitated before slipping it into his. Your other hand was grabbed by Gem, and Tango’s by Pearl.

“I love you.” Tango whispered. He was talking to all three of you. “I’m sorry.”

Pearl leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his temple before smiling gently, “We all are.” She looked over at you. “We should have been better partners to you, Y/N.” She murmured. 

Gem nodded softly, “I’m sorry for blaming you, Tango. It was all of us.”

Tango shook his head, “You were perfectly in line to do that. I deserved it. I was an asshole.” It was quiet as we stayed there together. The rain had gone, leaving it slightly muggy, but it was peaceful. Birds chirped in the distance.

“We’ll get through this.” You whispered. “We always do.” Your partners all nodded. Tango and Gem squeezed your hand. “I love you.”

“I love you.” The three of them repeated in tandem. They would have to have a nice, long chat later about everything that had happened, but for now, they knew everything would be okay and that was enough.

[hmshermitcraft]

Tango’s been getting worried for Reader as of late. They’ve been working nonstop ever since they became the Guardian of Decked Out. As far as he can recall, Reader’s been preventing Tango from overworking himself, repaying Hermits for system errors, caring for the Ravagers, and fixing small details in the levels. All without taking a break to eat or rest.

Reader’s reassured that Guardians such as themself don’t need to take breaks as they are meant to care for their homes 24/7. He’s not too convinced though. They’ve been getting more and more sluggish lately and their wings aren’t as bright as before. But every single time, Reader’s too stubborn to admit they’re tried.

Tango decides it’s time to intervene. If Tango has to take care of himself because of Reader, then Reader will have to take care of themself because of him.

He strips Reader of their Guardian duties. But only for a few days. They need to get their energy back, and Tango will make sure to help them while he takes care of Decked Out.

Tango simply couldn't stand by in good conscience, regardless of what Reader was saying. They might not need a break, but that doesn't mean they won't benefit from one. And, even assuming what Reader is saying is true, this is a lot more intensive than any other location. People are always coming through, things always need monitoring and upkeep. It takes a lot of work!

And, if need be, Tango can close the dungeon for a bit. Sure, he might have some grumpy hermits, but they'll understand. They all tell him to take a break.

It'll give them some more time together, too. The dungeon can wait for a little while.

[beardedhotchner]

El Tango De Roxanne

(Part 2 of Spencer Reid x Prostitute!Reader)

Part 1 Part 3

A/N: Enjoy part 2, Amia xxx

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Prostitute!Reader

Summary: Songfic inspired by El Tango de Roxanne - Reader is a prostitute and worries her pimp will kill Spencer if he knows they've fallen in love. Reader has to push Spencer away, but he's too busy getting upset that she might be having sex with someone other than him.

T/W: Prostitution, trafficking (?), physical abuse, sexual abuse, reclamation of Reader's body(she reclaims herself and her wants), arrested, interrogation, Morgan is kinda an ass, so is JJ, dad!hotch vibes, arguing, swearing, kinda OOC Spencer

To say you were angry would be the fucking understatement of the year.

Your body stiff and tense. You were seething. A tall man in a suit (Hotch? You vaguely remember Spencer telling you about his steely faced boss) approached with him. You shot daggers to your boyfriend, holding out your wrists to the other man. He looked at you in confusion, bypassing you for Callie, who still clung to you even with the betrayal in her eyes.

"Camille Bakster, you are under arrest for solicitation..." You don't listen to her miranda rights, holding back tears as the 16 year old is taken from your side. Spencer reaches out for you and you hold out your wrists.

"Arrest me." He looks at you in horror and confusion, your eyes filled with a numbness he hoped never to see again. "Reg is gonna kill me if he finds out I wasn't arrested with them. And that you know me by name. So arrest me. Even if it's fake. Do something." Spencer nods in understanding, pulling his cuffs out he begins to 'arrest you', taking you in the back of his SUV. A bald man sits in front with him, a black haired woman in the back with you. The air inside warm and stuffy with the tinted windows, the leather seat hot on your legs.

"Kid. You should've told us-" The man says to Spencer. You watch your boyfriend shake his head and you interrupt him.

"He didn't have to tell you nothing. I don't do anything." It was true. You hadn't for a while now, Spencer always booked the nights you're supposed to work for Reggie. So you hadn't technically been soliciting since you met in that hotel elevator all those months ago.

The bald man laughs, "yeah you just happen to be walking around with a known pimp and a girl who's obviously a prostitute, while your dressed like that-" Its Spencer's turn to talk now.

"Don't fucking talk about her like that." His voice was cold. You hadn't heard him swear outside of the bedroom before. Even while mad at him, you couldn't deny it drove you wild. You fought the urge to squeeze your thighs together in a bid for relief. "You don't ever get to accused her of that. Or talk to her like that, Morgan." The other man, Morgan as Spencer called him, nods, seemly accepting this.

"Okay, man. I apologise." You don't bother to glance at the woman next to you. You can tell she's staring. And she's definitely shocked when Spencer snaps, and again, when you ask for the cuffs to come off.

"Reg can't see me in here. Can I get them off?" Spencer nods to the woman and you see her hesitate before her unlocks them. As soon as they're off, your rub at the red indents on your skin. "Fucking hate being cuffed or tied up." You explain, feeling the need to for some reason, as if Spencer's team (his found family) were entitled to it.

The woman smiles at you, almost sympathetically, "So what do you do? If you don't mind me asking?"

"Emily-" Spencer starts, pinching the bridge of his nose. You're quick to lean forward, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him. Even when mad, you didn't like seeing him upset. It tore you up inside.

"I'm Reg's girl. His Angel." You clarify, "He took me in when I was younger, and I was a hooker. For a while. It was all I knew. But I met Spencer. And I don't anymore. Instead, I sit in empty hotel rooms waiting for a client that I know won't show, because I don't solicit anymore." Spencer's hand was resting on yours as you continued to rub his shoulder gently. Your other hand picks at a thread on your red dress, your eyes darting up to Emily's.

"How do you know they won't show up?" Morgan presses, his hands tightening on the wheel as we follow the convoy of cars to the station.

"Because they don't." You weren't going to snitch on your's and Spencer's secret meetings. Especially as you weren't sure where the FBI stood on a man paying his girlfriend's pimp off to stop his girlfriend from having to prostitute herself. Spencer relaxes under your touch and you knew you had made the right decision not to drop him in it.

A phone rings and when Morgan answers it, reminding whoever called that they were on speaker, a high pitched voice comes across the speakers, "Spencer Reid. When were you gonna tell us you had a gorgeous girlfriend? She looks stunning in that red dress!-"

"Garcia." Emily chuckles, "his girlfriend can hear you." You call out a 'hi' earning yourself a suspicious look from Morgan in the rear view mirror.

The voice of Garcia fills the cab again, "Oops well I'm not lying. You look great, honey!" Spencer shakes under your hand and you know he's holding back a laugh. "Hotch wants them all separated. Unfortunately, as well as Reginald and his team, both the girls are gonna need to be interrogated too-"

"No." You say loudly. "Callie doesn't deserve this. She's barely 16. Let her go home. She has a kid. She is a kid!" Your argument seems to fall on deaf ears as they continue to talk around you.

"Hotch wants her kept away from Camille. He's worried there's a conflict of interest -" Garcia is cut off once again, this time by Morgan.

"No kidding there's a conflict of interest. Reid's girl seems to think Camille is a saint-" He glances at you in the mirror once again.

"I don't think she's a saint. She's a kid who's been through too much-"

"Doesn't matter. She's still a hooker-"

"Morgan shut your mouth-" that was Spencer. He snaps this as you shout:

"Who the fuck do you think you are? You think you know us!?"

"No. But I think you've gotta be involved some bad shit for Pretty Boy to hide you-"

"I didn't hide her. I just didn't vocalise it-"

"Fuck you!"

Emily is the one to cut in again, Garcia's voice being lost under the overlapped voices, "Enough. You're all bickering like children."

"Like Callie is." You bite back, as Emily snaps the cuffs on you again. You jolt at the coldness before realising you had arrived at the police station. "Spence-" You start but he ignores you, stepping out of the car, pulling you out the back.

You could lie and say you didn't like being manhandled by him, even in this situation. But there would be no point.

His grip on your bicep tightens as he drags you pass Reg's boys, their eyes raking over you as always. He stops to talk to Hotch as you walk past a holding cell. Reg's hand grabs at your arm through the bars, "What the fuck, Angel?" He asks, his voice oddly calm for the rage brewing in his eyes.

"I dunno, Reg..." You whimper, playing into Reg's idea of you. The more submissive you are, the more dumb he'll think you are. A good failsafe for getting out of trouble with him. "Please tell me you have a plan..." It seems to work as the rage slightly dampens as he looks at you.

"I'll get us out. Fuck the rest of them." He mutters, squeezing your hand in what was supposed to be a reassuring gesture. But it just confirms the pit in your stomach. He wants to leave his boys and Callie to the mercy of the FBI, he only wants you and him to get out unscathed. And he expects you to play along with his story too. Fuck.

"Hey." Snaps Morgan, pushing Reg back, "Get her in the room down the hall." He orders Spencer, who is quick to oblige, dragging you with him.

Okay. You definitely can't lie and say you're not turned on by his manhandling.

His grip loosens immediately after the door shuts behind you. He whispers soft apologies as he undos your cuffs. Attaching them to his belt with one hand, the other comes to rub your wrists gently. Soon, both hands are soothing the marks as he mutters sweet nothings to you.

"My pretty girl... I'm so sorry..." he starts, your heart squeezes at the sad look on his face, his brown doe eyes filled with pain.

"Spence, it's okay." You promise, moving your arms around his neck, finally getting to hold the man you love. His arms snake around your waist, happy to have you with him again. You don't stay like that for very long though. As the door opens again, both your arms drop to your sides. Spencer's hand lingers on the small of your back as a greying man and a small blonde enter.

"Spence-" The blonde starts, "you can't be in here while we talk to her." You pull a face. You don't like others calling him 'Spence'. That was something only you did. It didn't help that this woman was obviously gorgeous and most likely intelligent. However, Spencer's eyes don't leave you as he replies clipped.

"That's fine, JJ." He pulls you into a gentle kiss, his hair tickling your face as his soft plump lips capture yours. You hear a cough, but ignore it as Spencer's tongue slips into your mouth, his hands grabbing at your hips. Your own arms around his frame, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other threaded in his hair. You gently bitting his lip and he swallows a moan, pulling back. His face is flushed, his lips red and swollen. You can't help but look smug at your masterpiece. "Play nice. Answer properly." He advises. His voice drops to a whisper as he presses his lips against your temple, "You're mine, im not going to let anything happen to you."

You nod, kissing his cheek gently, squeezing his hands before letting him leave. You turn back to the other two, JJ and the grey haired man.

"Agent Rossi." He introduces himself as gesturing to the seat opposite him as he takes his own. You don't sit. Instead, stay standing where Spencer left you.

"I'm Agent Jareau." JJ says, you nod as if you already knew. She sits down, obviously sizing you up.

"You're the mom of Spencer's godsons." She looks almost shocked that you'd know that, but nods. Rossi, next to her, looks impressed.

"Yes, Spencer is the godfather of my sons." Her tone is short, as if she wasn't expecting Spencer to share so much information with his 'hooker'.

"I like your books." You say to Rossi, turning to face them both. "You're a good writer. You dumb it down for girls like me." You see Rossi's eyes narrow at that comment. He doesn't believe you're as dumb as you pretend. "Spencer reads them to me," you continue, "I can't read his copies as he's got so many notes in the margins, gets distracting and I can't focus."

"Can I ask you something?" Rossi asks, his hands clasped in front of him. He's reading into everything you say. It's a good thing you've been pretending to be someone all of your life... well... until you met Spence. You nod, taking the seat finally. "How did you meet Reid?"

You smirk, "Las Vegas. You guys were there for a case. My date spilt his drink on my dress at the bar, I left him at the table to go back upstairs and change." You eyes flicker to the mirror across one side of the wall, you assume Spencer is there and smile softly. "White dress, top shelf scotch. Didn't fancy sitting in it all night. I ran into Spencer in the elevator-"

"He didn't mention meeting anyone." JJ cuts you off, crossing her arms defensively.

"-Because that was only the first time we met. You guys were there for a week." You explain, almost sharply. Turning back to face the pair, you carry on, "I literally ran into him. Knocking us to the floor. I apologised about thousand times over. He replied with something about the odds of happening... I was going to ask for his number but we already arrived at his floor before I could. I vowed to myself if I saw him again, I would ask."

Rossi nods, waiting for you to continue. He remembers that case. Spencer kept checking his phone over and over, a new habit for the young doctor. He was smiling to himself more and eager to leave for the hotel every night. That was when Rossi knew something had happened, something that made Spencer more... calm. He was happy. Seen. Reid had been in a great mood since then.

"The next day, he was rushing about with Hotch-" They look shocked that you know Aaron's nickname. "-that is the tall, dark guy in the suit? Agent Hotchner, yeah? Well, those two were rushing about and Spence hit me with a case file while he was explaining something. You know, cause he talks with his hands." You giggle at the memory, warmth flooding your chest. "He knelt down to pick up my bag and my stuff and handed him my phone number that I had written out on a napkin the night before. I held onto it incase I ran into him again. He texted like 5 minutes after that, apologising for his clumsiness. I saw him every day until you guys left, sometimes only from across the room. Once at breakfast, before you guys woke up. He brought me a ham and cheese crossiant. It was pretty damn good." I could picture the blush painted across Spencer's face behind that mirror.

"How come Spencer hasn't mentioned you?" JJ asks. She was starting to grate on you a little.

"Ask him. Probably the same reason I haven't told my friends about him." They both stare at you expectantly, "It's no one else's business what two consenting adults do. " You smirk, tapping your manicured nails against the desk, "Unless you want the details?"

Pressing people's buttons was easy, especially when they reveal them as quickly as JJ did. "Hmm?" You're in a stare off with her now, so you can't exactly stop yourself from the smart ass comment rising in your throat, "You wanna know how good Spencer fucks me? What makes him squirm? Or you wanna know my kinks? What makes me scream out his name-" JJ looks away, embarrassed, and Rossi catches your focus again.

"-No. You're right. We don't need to know what two consenting adults do..." He starts, "but Camille isn't an adult." That caught your attention and your eyes snap to Rossi. "She has a son, right? A 14 month old. He's adorable."

"Where is he?" You ask, your heart sinking at the mention of Noah. You had supported Callie through her entire pregnancy at Reg's demand, kept her safe and well-looked after. You looked after Noah as soon as he was born. Being one of the only girls without her own children, you helped Callie out a lot. You tried not to get invested, told yourself it was only because Reggie asked. But that small boy was like your own. He may have well been with the number of times Callie would disappear, and Reg ordered you to look after Noah. "Is he okay? He's not usually away from us both at the same time..."

"He's in the next room. He's okay. He was having trouble sleeping-" Your head snaps to the mirror, silently pleading with Spencer behind it.

"I don't care. Bring him to me, please?" You ask, the facade dropping, "Has he been fed? His last feed from me was... yesterday afternoon. Callie and I were in the hotel all night..." You shook your head, hiding the tears in your eyes.

The door beside you opened and your face lit up at the sight of Noah in his car seat. You stood up, crossing the room quickly. Rossi assures you Noah was fed and he was checked over by a nurse, too.

Unclasping his seat belt, taking him into your arms, you cooed to him, "Hi baby boy." You bouncing gently as he opened his eyes at the sound of your voice, his small smile lightening your heart. You barely look to see who brought him in to you. Holding your hand to his back as you hold him on your hip, the small boy's head rests on your collarbone the way he loves. "There you go, baby." You praise him, smiling widely at him relaxing in your hold.

Rossi and JJ nod to Spencer as they leave the room, you were till to entranced by the toddler to notice your boyfriend hovering nearby. They both saw your facade drop as soon as the boy was mentioned.

"He's just as cute as you said." He mutters beside you. You finally tear your eyes away from Noah, finding Spencer's brown ones watching your face, your reactions. He was so attuned to you already. You were sure he never really needed to watch you the way he did. But Spencer was adamant that he loved watching you no matter what. Another reason your heart soared around him: he was so thoughtful and generous in his love.

"Almost as cute as my other favourite guy." You muse, leaning into Spencer's chest, his arms encircling you both. Small murmurs pass between you both and to Noah. You stayed like that for a while, the small clock on the wall indicating it had been well over an hour. It felt right. Being here like this with Spencer. Maybe.... maybe this is the future you want-

Your inner thoughts are stopped by the entrance of Hotch. Stern look on his face, he reaches for Noah. You turn away from him, demanding an explanation with your glare. Noah fusses gently before settling once again, his eyes closing.

"Camille wants to see him-" He begins to explain. You try to school your features but you needed to see her. "She's in the next room. Reginald is down the hall, his men are in a holding cell around the back-"

"I'll take him to her-" You start, cut off by Spencer's hand on your arm.

"No, love. She can't know that you're not on their side." You pull a face at that. You weren't against Callie and resented that they thought they had your alliegence just because of Spencer. They were right of course. You'd stick by Spencer like he does for you. But that didn't mean you liked these people. Nor trust them with Noah. "Hotch has a son. He knows how to hold a kid. Noah will be okay with him, I promise."

Spencer wasn't one to use the word 'promise' lightly. Even if you didn't trust him with your entire being anyway, that would've been enough to make you cave.

"Fine." You let Hotch take the small boy into his arms. The practised ease of the motion lifts some of the weight on your chest. Watching as Noah stares at this newcomer intrigued before turning back to look for you. Giving the boy a tiny wave, you attempted a reassuring smile.

The boy waves back, smiling widely toward you. It quickly drops when he realises you aren't following him. You hear his cries for you, soft whimpers of "Mama!" You never encouraged him calling you that, not intentionally. Callie silently seethed with rage when it happened the first time. Reg was the opposite. Almost glowing. You couldn't help but react the same, smiling everytime he called you it.

He disappears from your sight with Hotch and you can't help but hold on a bit tighter to Spencer. A small choking sound comes from your throat and Spencer presses a kiss to your forehead. Soft reassurances fill your ears as you sink to the ground. Spencer follows, his arms steady and solid around you.

"I've got you." He promises.

You could help but wonder if that was going to be your downfall.

You fucking hoped not.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Dancing With Visions - A Careful Partner - Ballroom Tango - Diluc

Author Notes: Guess which 5-star I picked for myself? In all honesty though, I was so amused when I rolled this dance for Diluc. This fic was written to “Feel So Close” by David Guetta, and the dance wasinspired by the tango by Maksim Chmerkovskiy and Meryl Davis to the same song on Week 6 of Season 18 of Dancing with the Stars. Just like the rest of this series, Reader is female. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more of this series, the fics can be found here: Dancing with Visions Masterlist.

Type: Female reader/ dance/ fluff/platonic or romantic /sfw

Word Count: 1473

It was always amusing. How, despite Diluc’s maturity, the smallest thing could turn into a competition between him and Kaeya. A suitable show of their sibling relationship that, despite how they may behave at times, had never truly waned in the slightest.

That was what had happened with the dance lessons. Kaeya and his partner had learned the rumba to such an impressive degree that Diluc couldn’t be left behind, which had led to me and him practicing the tango relentlessly in our youth, despite how perfectly embarrassing it had been for both of us.

I’d always suspected that the tango had not been near what Diluc had expected when he’d first chosen it as the dance we’d learn, and the same could be said for the rumba when Kaeya had picked it. Though, to be fair, both men had been young when all of  that had occurred.

 Either way, it had led to me and Diluc being able to tango at what at least one person had referred to as an unholy speed. Though, even to this day, Diluc was usually at least a little stiff and embarrassed while dancing with me. But that was just a part of Diluc.

I glanced over at the man next to me, standing off to the side of the stage where we’d both agreed to perform for a Knights of Favonius dance competition that was raising money for in-need children despite Diluc’s eternal beef with the group.

Kaeya had already turned this competition into a more personal one with his performance, though. Especially since he’d grinned over at Diluc as soon as the applause had erupted when he’d finished dancing with his partner.

I eyed the redhead closely before looking back out onto the stage where Jean was currently dancing a lovely waltz with Swan.

 I reached out towards Diluc as I watched the other young couple, carefully linking my pinkie finger with his, and soon feeling his curl around mine in return as he silently stood by my side.

 I smiled slightly as I continued to watch the Acting Grandmaster, finding that I had nothing but confidence in the two of us. If this was going to be yet another competition between Diluc and his brother, then I would do as I always did in such things. I would support him wholeheartedly.

My hand slipped away from his as we both stepped out onto the brightly lit stage at the same time, looking towards each other simultaneously. Almost like we’d practiced it.

There was the slightest of smiles on his face as I looked at him, feeling a relaxed smile of my own spread across my face even though we were standing in front of a crowd that looked like it held the majority of Mondstadt.

 It was only natural that people had shown up to watch considering how adored the young master of the Dawn winery was. Especially since Diluc’s participation in something held by the Knights of Favonius wasn’t something to be missed.

Our hands moved in sync, wrapping around each other and locking together before we started forward. Looking towards the crowd as we walked together, side by side, as if there were nothing in the world out of the ordinary. Totally unconcerned by the competition.

He raised my hand high before releasing it to slip backwards and grasp my waist as I slid quickly to the side. A sudden opening to our performance as I spun before halting. One hand pressed to his chest as I let him slowly, and with careful control, lean me backwards into a dip as I stretched out one leg.

And then it began. Our typical speed.

The two of us spun to the side as we held onto each other in a sort of embrace as we whirled into the next pose, where I was arched backwards with one leg extending so that the toe of my shoe barely touched the ground before he pulled me back upright. A fraction of space between us as our motions briefly slowed. Building tension alongside the music until the beat finally hit.

In an instant I was spinning out to the side, one leg kicking out to help me maintain balance before he began marching me along the stage as people began to cheer. 

Our feet hit the ground to match the pounding beat as we rotated along. Trading off on who was pushing the other backwards until we both paused to face the same direction.

I smiled slightly as we held that perfectly angled, almost stiff pose for the briefest of seconds before we took off, marching together now and no longer battling for dominance.

This was where our teacher had always said we were at our best. Our innate ability to match each other and have total trust in the other to be exactly where we expected them.

The beat of the music slowed, and so did our motions. The marching speed dwindling so we could spin together, and I found myself smiling out at the crowd as we struck a careful pose where Diluc had stopped us at the very edge of the stage. Like he knew exactly how far he could push us.

But then he probably did know exactly where the edge of the stage was. He was nothing if not a careful partner. It was one of the reasons I’d always trusted him so implicitly.

Even when we’d both still been young and learning the dance, barely able to make it even a few minutes without growing too embarrassed to continue, Diluc had always been far more preoccupied with my comfort than his own.

I could see Kaeya already chuckling to himself as Amber clapped alongside him. Her eyes alight with excitement as she watched me and Diluc.

But she had never seen us dance. In fact, few had. Me and Diluc seldom danced at all, much less when anyone was around. He was far too busy, and even during my visits our time was typically spent chatting and resting in one another’s presence. 

Plus, there was the fact that Diluc still managed to get embarrassed while dancing with me even after all these years. I could only assume that he was making it through this competition without flushing solely on his willpower alone.

We trotted backwards, our motions oddly delicate as I twisted my head so that me and Diluc were once more, looking in different directions. 

He stopped us with perfect timing yet again and pulled me into a rapid rotation before our motions slowed once more and he had me gliding backwards.

Last second, he turned so that my back was to the crowd as I leaned forward, resting my head against his shoulder before he guided me into leaning even further back than I had been originally. It wasn’t a full dip, but it was far enough back that it added more interest to the motion when I leaned back forwards, to face across the stage.

And as the beat hit, we pivoted. Twisting and immediately making eye contact for the briefest of seconds before we marched, with light kicking motions, across the stage. 

As soon as we reached the edge, he spun us, pushing me backwards with the stalking steps the ballroom tango was so well known for, as I smiled to myself. Pondering what we looked like to those watching.

Diluc’s gaze flashed my way, and he smiled almost imperceptibly before hurriedly looking away as he inhaled and started us into our rotation. Our bodies pressed so close together that we were almost like two halves of the same coin. 

The faces of the crowd and people manning the stage around us were blurring so much that the only truly clear thing was Diluc himself, his bright red eyes as warm as any hearth as I smiled back at him, and a pinkish hue started to creep across the edges of his ears.

I could hear the crowd though as they cheered around us. Bennett, Adelinde, and Kaeya’s voices were notable among them, and they almost made me grin even more, if such a thing were possible.

With zero hesitation, Diluc let go of my one hand and spun me out before letting go of my other hand so that I could make a full rotation. But, just as ever, his hand was there and waiting for me as I stopped. Standing right next to him as I looked up to meet his gaze once more. 

Our hands carefully finding one another before we started walking forward with the same slow, controlled pace we started our dance with.

And that was how we exited the stage, walking hand-in-hand back into the curtained section at the back of the stage as applause echoed from behind us.

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