#my additions are in red. and the rest is crossed out

[traveler-at-heart]

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Summary: Natasha doesn't like to share.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

A/N: Thank you to @jujuu23 for reading this before I posted :)

Natasha wanted to have a good day.

But then recruits were stupid, Steve was being annoying about paperwork. And now, this.

Her favorite mug. Gone.

“Did you do this?” is the first thing she says to Sam as he enters the kitchen.

“No, I like the idea of keeping all my fingers”

And precisely then, you walk in.

Newest addition to the team, top of your SHIELD class, expert in weapons, languages and the most delicious desserts. Steve had to enforce a rigurous meal plan when even Bucky gained a good five pounds.

Natasha likes your easy smile, beautiful eyes, and those full lips that can be both alluring and mysterious.

That perfect mouth that is now sipping from none other than Natasha’s mug.

Sam crosses his arms, expecting the Russian to say something. But she stays glued to her spot.

As you enter the room, you feel two sets of eyes on you. The attention makes you falter, but you push through. There’s no place for shyness when you’re an Avenger.

“Hey. How’s it going?”

“Real nice” Sam says, and you nod, considering if it’s a good idea to address Natasha directly. You still haven’t quiet figured her out. 

“Do I have something on my face? You’re staring”

“No” Natasha rushes to say, before Sam can tell you that you’re holding her mug, the one that made her rip Barnes’ arm off when she saw him using it.  

“You sure? Dirt? Chocolate?”

“Your face is perfect” she hurries to say, and Sam has to cough to hide his laughter 

“Smooth, Romanoff”

“Ok, then. I made coffee and added a little nutmeg. Wanna try it?”

You offer her your mug and she takes it, smiling. 

“This is really good!”

“Finish it. I have to train. I don’t mind sharing” you wink at her, and Natasha has to keep from smiling. She doesn’t like new people knowing she can go soft.

“Can I have some?” Sam steps in.

“No” Natasha cuts him off and you laugh, waving goodbye. 

—

Heroes can save the day, but forget to bring out an extra chair when doing mission debriefings. 

This is the first time the entire team has been on a mission together since you joined, and now the conference room is crowded. There’s no place to sit, except for a small sofa in the back of the room.

That’s where Natasha usually sits, because it gives her a view of everyone. She can read their expressions, guess what they think, take that information to asses what needs to be refined in their team dynamic. 

Right now, though, she’s one of the last people in. The minute she looks at her spot, she sees you, leaning against the sofa, your hand discreetly holding your side.

“Rookie, you’re in Red’s spot” Tony says, walkign right after Natasha. 

She shoots him a murderous glare, but all you do is laugh, trying to stand up without anyone noticing you’re injured.

But Natasha notices.

“We can both sit here” she rushes to say, and you nod, knowing your voice would be strained if you thanked her out loud.

Mission debriefing goes by in a blur, your breathing heavy. 

Natasha is ready to tell Steve to can it, but Tony steps in, and everyone leaves the room.

Everyone except you. 

Natasha can’t leave either, worried about your condition.

“It’s nothing major” you say, knowing why she’s still sitting next to you.

“What is?” she tries to play dumb, but that makes you laugh. You wince after a second, though. “You should go to the Medbay”

“Cracked ribs, that’s all. The doctors won’t be able to fix that either way” you smile at her, but make no effort to move. Natasha stays put too, and you know she’s patient enough to wait it out. “Fine. I’m going”

You expect Natasha to leave for her room once you promise to get checked out. But instead, she follows you.

“Just in case you need something”

The doctors confirm what you already know. Rest, painkillers, no training for a couple of days. What you had missed were a couple of cuts, since you didn’t even change out of your suit until now. A nurse cleans them up and patches you up, but you’re left in nothing but a tank top and your tactical pants. 

Why is the Medbay so damn cold?

When you open the door, Natasha is already waiting, a hoodie in her hands.

“I’ve told them to fix the damn AC a thousand times” is all she says, and you smile, grateful. You struggle when you have to slide the hoodie down your body, and Natasha’s hands are quick to pull the fabric down gently.

“Thank you, Nat”

“Come on, you need your rest” 

Walking back to the living quarters, you can’t help but wonder if she’s being nice out of pity or something else. Whatever it is, you just hope she doesn’t see you as the rookie that screws up during their first group mission.

“You know where to find me, if you need anything” 

You nod, waiting until she walks into her own room to get inside.

The first thing you do in the privacy of your room is enjoy the fact her hoodie is soft, and smells just like Natasha.

You might not give it back to her.

—

Tony’s idea of a party is shut down the next morning. You can guess that Steve is aware of your injuries, as the doctors are required to submit a report.

Still, Stark insists on some team bonding activity and by a miracle, Natasha gets him to agree to movie night.

That’s how you end up in the entertainment room. There’s popcorn, soda, pizza and chocolate. 

Once again, and unbenknowst to you, you end up sitting on the couch Natasha takes up for herself.

“Hey” she walks up to you, vaguely aware that the rest of the team is waiting to see if Natasha asks you to move. “Mind if we share?”

“Not at all!” you say, moving to the side so she can sit. It’s hard to pretend you’re not excited about Natasha’s request. 

Considering she’s always keeping her distance, sharing the couch during movie night seems like a big deal.

“Everyone settled?” Tony asks, his gaze lingering on you two. Natasha glares, so he turns around and starts the movie.

After a couple of minutes, you reach forward to open the pack of M&M’s that no one seems to want. You can’t help the laugh when Natasha reaches for them at the same time.

“We can share these too” you say, handing them to her.

Natasha is trying to pay attention to the movie, but you’re shifting in the couch, sometimes your knee brushing against hers. 

“You’re not eating the green ones” she notices, leaning close to you to not interrupt the movie.

“Oh, shit” you laugh, somehow sensing that Natasha wants to know why. “My brother and I would agree to leave those for last, and then split them. Stupid”

“Wouldn’t want to mess with tradition” she says, separating them. You watch her, holding back a smile.

—

“Y/N’s all packed up and ready to go, right?” Steve says, reading over a file. 

“Yeah, she walked by like five minutes ago. Medics gave clearance” Sam says. “It’s just a recon mission, either way”

They’re going back to reviewing the team’s schedule when Natasha sprints past them.

“Yo, what’s going on?” Sam says, hoping there’s no threat to deal with. Steve is about to walk out as well, when he hears Natasha’s words.

“I’m going with Y/N! How could you be so irresponsible to send her away when she just recovered?”

Captain Rogers decides to hide behind the door, Natasha’s anger making him feel small.

“Alright, have a good one” Sam gives her a thumb up, and the redhead just rolls her eyes. He sighs, going back inside.

Steve stays silent for a second.

“The safe house only has one bed” he says, considering if it’s worth telling Natasha that. "Should we tell her?"

“No, thank you”

—

Recon missions suck. 

There, you said it. Unfortunately, those are the most frequent ones for you, as the newest member of the team and being practically unknown to the general population.

You’re walking to your car, hoping the mission can be done quickly. It’s a day and a half and being alone makes it specially boring. As soon as you open the driver’s door, you find Natasha sitting, smiling up at you.

“Jeez! What are you doing here?”

“Backup. Cap asked me to come last minute” 

“Oh” you get quiet, nodding.

Natasha tries to stay neutral when she notices how your face falls. Did she read into the situation? A part of her thought you liked being around her.

Either way, she can’t back out now. Once you’re settled in the car, Natasha drives out of the Compound, to the small office you’re meant to infiltrate.

“Is… did…?” you mumble a couple of times. Natasha keeps a poker face, waiting for you to speak again. With a sigh, you finally let it out. “Did Steve send you to babysit me? He thinks I screwed up because I got injured, doesn’t he?”

“No, it’s nothing like that” Natasha says, mentally kicking herself for rushing to join you. She didn’t even consider your feelings, too eager to spend time together. “I just didn’t like the idea of you going alone”

“Oh” you say again, this time blushing. Natasha can sense something shifts from your tone alone, so she turns to look at you. Your eyes meet hers and you smile. “Yeah, I was actually thinking how boring it was going to be. So, I’m glad you tagged along” 

“I’m glad too” she says, trying not to smile.

“Let’s see if you keep saying that after I put on my roadtrip playlist”

“Bring it”

Natasha tries to enjoy the songs, though she’ll never tell you that pop music isn’t really her thing. What she does enjoy are the gummies you offer. In your words, road snacks are key to the trip.

As you park close to the safe house, you leave your bag in the living room and then go down to around the corner, checking you have everything you need in your jacket pockets. 

“Wanna go over the plan?” Natasha says, trying to keep calm. It’s just a recon mission. You’ll be fine.

“Bug the conference room for the meeting happening tomorrow. Hack into Russo’s computer and download everything. In and out, easy peasy” 

Natasha nods, and you wink at her.

“If I finish in under 10 minutes you buy me dinner”

“Deal” Natasha says, and she wishes she could tell you she’ll buy you dinner no matter what happens.

You finally go, walking up to the building, strolling casually. As you’re about to reach the doors, a man leaves the office and you snatch his ID to get past the gates.

That’s the easy part. Unfortunately, there’s a lot of people in the hallways still, and the office you’re supposed to infiltrate is at the end of the long corridor.

The conference room should be close to the elevator, so you decide to take a look around. As you approach, you hear voices inside.

It will be difficult to bug a room with other people in it.

Looking around, aware that you’ll be suspicious if you just stand there, you think of a way out.

And then you spot the distraction you need.

Well, whatever it takes to get the mission done.

—

Natasha finds a cafeteria that is across the office, and she gets to sit by the window, looking out as you skilfully snatch the ID from someone who’s leaving.

Standard time for a mission like that should be under fifteen minutes. Unfortunately, the man whose ID you stole is coming back exactly five minutes later. 

Natasha’s not sure if he forgot something, or if he noticed he was missing his ID and decided to return for it. The fact of the matter is that if someone notices you used it to get inside, you’ll be in trouble.

She suddenly wishes you had a comm with you so she could help out. Hell, if the man keeps talking to security, Natasha will find a way to make a scene and distract them long enough to get you out.

Just as she’s about to stand up, one of the cleaning staff walks out and hands over the ID. Did you notice what happened and dropped it? Were you still inside? You didn’t need the ID to exit the building, but still.

The man takes his ID, and walks back inside. 

It’s been nine minutes. Natasha will give you five more before she intervenes.

She’s so focused on looking out the window that she misses the moment you step inside the restaurant, and sit in front of her.

“What…? “ the redhead does a doble take, and you take great pride in that.

“Janitor’s closet, grabbed one of their uniforms. Nobody questions cleaning staff”

You pass her the USB, smiling at her shocked expression.

“And you gave him back his ID, as if you weren’t the one who took it”

“All under ten minutes. You know what that means?”

“Of course. Let’s check the menu” Natasha says, smiling at you.

After ordering a couple of cheeseburgers, you read over the desserts.

“We could share a brownie” you say, holding back a smile. You’ve noticed Natasha has a sweet tooth, and is less than inclined to share her food, especially if it’s a dessert.

“Sure” she says after a beat, and you clear your throat, speaking after the waitress leaves.

“You know, I can handle rejection”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m the youngest of three. I’m used to people telling me to leave their things alone” you say, smiling at her. “If I’m bothering you…”

“I don’t mind sharing” she cuts you off, her shoulders tense. It’s a bit uncomfortable for her to be vulnerable like this. “Not when I’m sharing with you” 

“Oh” you blush, biting your lip. The way her words affect you make Natasha regain some of her confidence. 

“How come you didn’t want to do a recon?”

“I don’t know. I like group missions. Or at least going with someone else. Like I said, I have siblings and I guess being around the team makes me feel like at home”

“Well, I like them because I can take a break from everyone. But that’s just because I’ve been dealing with those boys for years now” she laughs.

“Yeah, I get it. It can feel like a frat house sometimes. Let’s have girls night, no boys allowed” you joke, but perk up a second later. “Wait! That actually sounds fun. Oh my Gosh, we could go to the movies, or a museum, or dinner…”

“Sounds like a date to me” Natasha interrupts your rambling, pleased when you play with your hands.

“Yeah. That could be a date” 

Once the food arrives, you eat and chat. Natasha does agree to sharing dessert, which makes your heart melt a little at the gesture.

The last part of the mission is supposed to happen tomorrow, when a couple of shady businessmen meet at the building you infiltrated. All you have to do is sit and take pictures of whoever walks in, so intelligence can run background checks.

After dinner, you head back to the small apartment. For the first time since you arrived, you walk past the entrance to check the space.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asks when you come back, fiddling with your hands.

“There’s only one bed”

“Oh”

“You can totally take it, the couch looks fine…”

“No, you’re still recovering, I’ll sleep on the couch”

Natasha and you speak over the other for a few minutes until your voices die down and you stare at each other.

“We could share?” you suggest.

“Ok” Natasha nods, trying to pretend it’s not a big deal.

But when you change into an oversized t-shirt (no shorts because you truly thought you’d be alone here), and lie down in the small bed, your heart is practically beating out of your chest. 

“You ok?” Natasha says, trying not to move.

You give up with a sigh, turning on your side and moving closer, until you’re inches apart.

“Just need to sleep on my side. And I usually hug a pillow. Don’t ask me why, I just do”

“Well… here” Natasha moves even closer, taking your arm. She places it around her waist, and pulls you closer. Your breath hitches for a second, but Natasha smiles reassuringly. “Is this better?”

“Yes”

As a matter of fact, it’s the best sleep either one of you has gotten in years.

—

You’re not in the mood for parties.

But that’s never stopped Tony before.

After waking up cuddling Natasha, (and barely completing the mission because you didn’t want to leave bed) you were eager to ask her out, or have her ask you out. Whichever was fine by you.

But as soon as you parked the car, Cap was waiting with a frown and a big file.

“We leave in an hour” he said, only to Natasha.

Apparently, this was going to be a very demanding mission, and Cap didn’t want you pushing yourself.

So, Natasha, Sam and Steve had been gone for a few days now.

Tony was mildly disappointed, but this was Pepper’s birthday party and he wasn’t about to call it off for a few working Avengers.

Still, you try to cheer up and put on a good face, mainly for Pepper. You’re not sure she really wanted this big of a party, but she seems happy enough.

Most of the people attending are from Stark Industries, so you try to blend in and speak to some of them.

“Hey, do you work in legal?” a young blonde asks when you go get another drink.

“Oh, no, definitely not”

“Thought I knew you. I’m in HR”

“Fun” you say, but the tone you use makes her laugh. Before you can do anything, she changes seats and moves closer to you.

“I’m Sasha”

Reluctantly, you give your name. Even after the bartender hands over another glass of Chardonnay, Sasha keeps talking to you, though she doesn’t really care if you work at Stark Industries or not. After your third glass of wine, you begin to relax, and say a couple of jokes that make her laugh a little too loud.

She’s definitely flirting.

“Wanna take this conversation somewhere else?” she asks and you look around.

“I think I need some air…”

“We could…”

But she doesn’t get to finish her sentence, because Natasha is by your side in an instant. Little drops of water wet your shoulder as she approaches you, having rushed from the shower to see you.

“Hey, detka. Having fun without me?”

“You’re home!” you shout, excited at seeing her again.

“I am. Come on, let’s go to the balcony” she says, taking your hand. You’re halfway there when you remember Sasha, and try to turn back to say goodbye.

“I don’t want to be rude”

“And I said I like to share with you, not share you” 

“Oh” you blush at that, and stay silent as Natasha drags you out of the party. 

“Was that too much?” she asks when you finally get to the balcony.

“No. I just drank too fast and I’m happy to see you” you say, your hands going around her shoulders. 

As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, Natasha holds your waist and pulls you closer to her.

“I’m happy to see you too” she leans her forehead against yours. “And about that date…”

“Yeah, I’m up for it” you confirm with a nod. Your faces are inches apart, and Natasha  can tell you’re sneaking small glances at her lips.

“As for other stuff…” 

“Mhm” you hum, aware that she’s leaning forward. You let her lips meet yours, and the kiss is short but tender. “Will this date have more of these?”

“Hell, yeah” she nods, making you laugh.

“Tomorrow, then?”

“Can’t wait” she nods, kissing you again.

Unfortunately, you’re interrupted by Sam, who is sporting a shit eating grin.

“Anything you two wanna share with the team?”

“No” you answer at the same time.

Some things, are meant to stay between you two. 

[seleneprince]

1 | The Sun will sing

m.list <prev

Duke remembers the day he met her like it was yesterday.

Well—to be fair—it wasn’t just because of her. He remembers the day he joined the Wayne household vividly for many reasons. It was quite a memorable event as it was.

He was nervous—how could he not be? He was about to join Batman’s team. Train under him. It wasn’t nothing. And on top of that, he had to keep up with all the others—people who already knew the rules, who had long since learned what to expect.

They were nice, sure. Welcomed him in with open arms, polite words, even smiles. But they were still strangers. Acquaintances at best.

And he wasn’t ready to call them family yet. Not with the memory of his parents’ "deaths" still fresh.

One day, while exploring the other wing of the manor—the one where Alfred slept, opposite to the main training side—he wandered down a hallway he hadn’t been to before. It was a part of the house he had avoided so far since all the training and important stuff happened in the other section. Besides, no one told him to go there nor mentioned the place, so it was to assume there was no reason to go. In the end, curiosity got the better of him.

He found himself regretting it quickly enough—wandering aimlessly, unfamiliar with the halls, and once again ending up walking in circles. This particular wing felt like something straight out of a horror movie: dim, too quiet, and just eerie enough to make him wonder if something else was lurking in the shadows.

He was about to give up entirely, until—

"Can I help you?"

He jumped so hard he nearly tripped over his own feet.

Standing in the doorway of a room he hadn’t noticed before was a girl he’d never seen. Arms crossed, leaning casually against the frame, head tilted with barely concealed amusement—red headphones hanging around her neck.

He hadn’t even heard her approach. Where did she come from?

"Who the hell are you?"

She snorted, soft but sharp.

"Hasn't my beloved family told you about me?" she asked, voice dripping with dry sarcasm. Then came another snort. "I'm (Name). And I already know who you are."

"Wait—you do?"

"Of course. You're the new addition to the family, Bruce's latest stray. Duke Thomas. Alfred told us about you."

"Ah," he wasn't sure how to respond. "How come I haven't seen you around before?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Well," she said, with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. There was an odd edge in her voice. "I run on a different schedule than the rest of you."

Something in her tone made him pause. Like he was missing something, but couldn’t tell what.

She shifted her posture, never taking her eyes off him.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. Her tone wasn’t rude exactly, but it was... curt. Like she was waiting for him to leave.

And then:

"So, want me to show the way around this place? You clearly need it." she chuckled.

"What?"

"C'mon, follow me."

She motioned for him to move. For a moment, he just stared, confused.

"Why should I? Where are you taking me?"

She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and to his chagrin, he was intrigued.

"You want to get out of here or not?"

He had more than enough reasons not to trust her. He didn’t know her. He hadn’t heard of her. For all he knew, she could’ve been an intruder.

But in the end… he followed her anyway.

She stopped in front of a large painting, pressing her fingers beneath the frame until a faint click echoes in the hallway. Duke’s jaw dropped as the painting swings open, revealing a hidden passageway behind it.

Duke could only mouth in shock as the painting opened up, showing a hidden passageway right behind it.

"What...how...What is this?"

She glanced at him, clearly amused by his reaction.

"It’s a shortcut. It leads straight to the library. If you need to go there, use this instead of getting lost wandering around."

Duke kept staring in shock.

"There are secret passageways in the manor?"

She chuckled again.

"Of course there are. This place is ancient. The staff used to rely on these passageways to do their jobs." she set a foot inside it. "I don’t use it much, so we might run into some rats. Don't worry, they're harmless...as long as you don't touch them."

He looked at her, then at the spot, then back at her.

"You're a weirdo, you know that?"

She smiled, an amused glint in her eyes.

"Thank you."

A rush of cold air sweept over him, but the girl stepped completely inside without hesitation. She glanced back at him, extending her hand as an invitation.

"Well?" She lifted her chin, her tone light but challenging. "Are you coming?"

A challenge. He saw it in her eyes, daring him. He grinned, unable to resist. Whover she was, he’s never known how to back down from a challenge.

He took her hand—a gesture that surprised her, even though she was the one who offered it.

"Lead the way, weirdo"

The space was just wide enough for them to walk side by side. The cool, damp air smelled faintly of dust and stone, and the occasional faint screech of rats echoed through the narrow hall. And yet, despite the gloomy environment, their conversation flowed easily, like they’ve known each other for years. They talked about school, hobbies, and Gotham City in general.

He found out she was Bruce’s daughter—that she lived in that far wing with her mother and two younger siblings, separated from the rest. The revelation shocked him. No one had mentioned them before. At least, not that he recalled.

But when he tried to ask more, he noticed how her body stiffened, the way her gaze hardened just slightly whenever her father—or any of them—came up. So, he didn’t push. And in return, she didn’t ask about his family either. An unspoken agreement between them they were both quietly relieved by.

Duke wasn’t ready to talk about his parents yet—not with the wound still raw—and it was clear she didn’t want to unpack her own family drama.

Despite the odd circumstances, he found himself enjoying her company. Her witty remarks. The way her eyes lit up when she made a joke that landed. That rare, almost shy smile she tried to hide when he actually managed to make her laugh.

They kept crossing paths in the following days. At the entrance—him returning from patrol, her heading out to practice at the ice-rink. At first, she was still guarded. Polite, but distant. Keeping a calculated space between them. It didn’t sit right with him. Especially when he started noticing the pattern.

The others hung out together, trained together, ate together. But her? She was always alone. Never part of their plans. That didn’t sit right either.

Eventually, things between them finally shifted, when he showed up unannounced at one of her rehearsals at the ice-rink, shortly after his patrol. She didn’t say anything at first, but she looked at him in a way he would never forget. Afterward, he invited her out—to a little café down the block, then to the arcade across the street.

And when he took her back to the manor, she hugged him before entering.

From that day on, they only grew closer. Day by day, Duke got to know her better. She wasn’t the uncaring, spoiled rich girl she sometimes pretended to be. She was smart, funny, and had a will made of pure iron.

There was no other way to describe it. He watched her move through life on a schedule packed so tightly with activities and responsibilities it made him dizzy just looking at it. And yet, she handled it all like it was second nature—barely breaking a sweat.

And somehow, she still found time to do house chores and take care of her real family—her mom and the twins. And God knows those last two didn’t make it easy sometimes.

The more he saw her, the more he realized: she’s just made different. She didn’t flaunt it, didn’t acknowledge it, but she was strong. So damn strong. Stronger—and far more capable—than anyone gave her credit for. And Duke? He admired her for it. Respected her like crazy.

She became his best friend in the manor. His confidant. The one person who made him feel normal again—away from the missions and the chaos and the pressure of being part of the Bat legacy.

Because she wasn’t like them. Not a vigilante. Not a hero. Not someone who spent her nights bleeding for a cause that would never end. No, she was a breeze of normalcy. Of peace. And that's what made her so good.

Just a normal girl living a normal life, minding her bussiness and staying out of trouble, of Gotham’s worst. Someone they didn't have to fret over for fear she got killed during a mission or anything.

Which is exactly why what he’s seeing right now doesn’t make any goddamn sense. Because the girl knows—the one with the level-headed nature and quiet smile—shouldn’t be lying motionless across the crushed hood of an abandoned car.

Not like this.

Not in a dark alley, blood soaking through her clothes, smoke still rising from her skin. Not with traces of a bomb all over her body.

He had a bad feeling when she didn't hear from her since leaving the house. Usually, she texted her about fifteen minutes before his patrol ended, to let him know if she was finishing already or would take a bit longer. He insisted on doing this so he could get ready to pick her up on time.

She’d rolled her eyes the first time he suggested it, said it was dumb—"I’m not a kid, Duke."—but he didn’t budge, claiming she wanted to pick her up personally. And that's how they normally do it since they started this silly tradition.

But this time, she didn't text him anything. No message. No call. No anything.

Worse—her profile stated last time she had been online was early that morning. Before she left the house. And he knew for a fact that she was always online. Always checking messages, posting, organizing notes, updating playlists, switching between apps like her brain ran in high-speed tabs.

The bad feeling intensified.

Then he tried to call her, but she didn't pick up. By his fourth attempt with only her voicemail answering, panic really started to settle in. Because he knew her, and knew that wasn't normal. She always picked his calls. Even during kidnappings—yes, plural, because that's how Gotham is—she always managed to pick up. Or at least, a text telling him she was fine and to give her a few more minutes to get out.

But nothing. There was nothing on her end. And Duke felt it in his bones: something was really, really wrong.

And just when he was about to rush to the ice rink to check for himself—maybe her phone had just died (unlikely, but not impossible)—his comm buzzed with a call for help. An explosion in a warehouse, too close to the Gotham City General Hospital. It was urgent, with injured hostages involved, and all hands were needed inmediately.

He froze.

Because like a switch flipping in his brain, he remembered her commenting in passing that she wanted to meet an old friend this week. Said they had a lot to talk about—something very important that couldn't wait. And the location she mentioned?

Around the same damn zone the explosion had been reported.

He stopped breathing for a few seconds. Stood in place, still like a statue, with the buzz of his comms as background noise. He threw a glance at the mountain of smoke already visible in the horizon. Then pulled out his phone and checked her profile again. Still offline. He glanced at the smoke again.

No. No, there had to be another explanation. There had to be. He just needed to rule his worst suspicions out. To make sure.

But now—staring down at the bloodied, sickly pale body of his best friend lying crumpled on the hood of a mangled car—he feels his knees threatening to give up. It looks way too real to be anything else. There's not another explanation. This is real.

He can't tear his eyes off her. He knows he should move—run to her, check her pulse, shake her, something—but his body won’t listen. It's like an invisible force has wrapped around him, forcing him to stay there. Rooted to the concrete, rigid and useless, as the world starts to fade around the edges. Sounds grow muffled. The air turns thick. And for a moment, it’s like he’s back there again.

The same helpless horror. The same brutal realization. The same crushing guilt.

But somehow, this is worse. Because his parents—damaged, scarred, forever changed as they are—they're still alive. They move. They speak. He can see signs of life in them. There's hope.

But she's not moving. Not even a twitch.

He's pretty sure her chest hasn't moved since he found her, so she's not even breathing.

Oh fuck. She's not breathing.

That’s what does it. That terrifying realisation rips through the fog and finally pulls himout of the gutter. He bolts forward, heart hammering. And God. Up close, the sight is even worse. So much worse.

Glass shards stabbed into her arms and face like cruel decorations. Her clothes soaked in blood—dark, sticky, and far too much of it.

"C'mon, weirdo, don't do this. Open your eyes. Please, just open them. Say something. Anything." Silence. Not a slight reaction. "No. No no, don't do this to me. Not you. Fuck's sake, why didn't you call me earlier? Why didn't you—?" He chokes on his words, a familiar and undesired warmth stinging his eyes already.

He holds her face, repressing a shiver when he feels her skin cold. His fingers trace for a pulse, and when he finds it—weak, thready, barely there—he nearly sobs in relief. She's not gone yet. He's not loosing anyone today...as long as she carries her to the hospital fast enough.

But his eyes zoom on the blood sticking to his hands and the hope crumbles again. Her words echo in his head, from a conversation he’ll never forget—

"It won’t do anything to you because you’re a meta... but if someone else comes in contact with it, well—"

His stomach twists.

Fuck.

His head pounds with a thousand calculations. He can save her. He has to. But if he takes her in without warning—without explaining—someone would touch her blood. It would drop somewhere it shouldn't.

And if that happens...holy shit.

He’ll have to explain—convince the staff not to touch her, not even brush against her without thick gloves and proper shielding. He’ll have to fight to make them listen. To make them understand without giving too much away.

But every second she lays here, still and unresponsive, the closer he is to losing her. He has to think fast.

"Thomas? What the fuck is going on?"

That gruff voice. He turns over his shoulder and there he is—Red Hood.

She has a better chance now. He just has to fight himself to explain the situation to him without breaking down and also quick enough to take her away.

But as soon as Duke fully turns and Jason catches sight of the body behind him, he goes rigid (he could've swear he heard the man make a choked sound under his helmet)—

And drops his guns.

They hit the ground with a weight that echoes far too loud in the silence. Even the pigeons stop making noise.

"Jason—"

"What. Is. That?"

It's like the whole city is holding its breath.

The words come out slow. Flat. And...trembling.

Duke stares, shocked.

He’s never heard Jason talk like that before. Not quiet. Not cautious. Not shaken.

Not like that.

Before he can say anything, Jason starts walking towards her. With heavy stomps at first—deliberate. But halfway there, he stops. Frozen in place for a minute. Then begins to move slower, like he doesn’t know how to approach her. The closer he gets, the more he sees, and it punches him.

He stops beside her, standing completely still as he stares down at her form. He raises a painstakingly slow hand towards his helmet and takes it off, gripping it with both hands. He doesn't blink. His face is neutral—cold—but his eyes? They look haunted.

"Duke," he says quietly. "What the fuck is this?"

"I don't know. I came because of the explosion and I just... found her like this. We were supposed to meet today, but she didn’t call or text me and I—I had a bad feeling and—"

"So, she's been disappeared the whole day, and you didn't think to inform anyone."

The words slam into him like a whip. Jason’s voice—low, simmering—carries that edge. That sharp, dangerous threat beneath the surface.

It only pisses him off.

"Look, I don't have time to explain it to you." he snaps. "I don't even know what happened. But if you haven't noticed, she's not fucking breathing—and if we don’t move now—"

He can't even finish. Everything in him recoils at the mere thought. No, he refuses. He won't let that happen. He won't.

Jason visibly flinches at his words. Of course, he doesn't need to hear the rest of the sentence either. He knows. His eyes haven't moved from her yet, taking in every detail. Every gash, every shard of glass, every drop of blood, desperately trying to make sense of the situation, of what he's seeing, but he can't.

His hand trembles slightly as he reaches out—brushing a strand of sticky hair from her face. His fingers linger, still as stone. His mind running through hundreds of possible explanations, and scenarios, and anything that could give him some sort of hint about whatever happened.

"What was she doing here?" he mutters.

"I don't know, and frankly, I don't give a shit now. We have to take her to the hospital."

Jason doesn't move.

"I'll do it. You stay and take care of the situation."

"Like hell I will." he replies coldly. "She's my sister, I'll do it. You stay here and deal with the shitshow instead."

That gets him.

Jason finally turns to face him, raw, blazing fury twisting his face.

"She's my sister too."

Duke doesn’t bother suppressing the scoff that escapes him.

"Oh, really? Is she now? Funny, because you've done a pretty shitty job at showing it."

Jason’s head jerks toward him.

"Excuse me?" oh, he's mad now. Too bad he doesn't care.

"Spare me, Hood." he spits. "You don't get to play the big brother card now. Not when this is the first time that I see you actually giving a damn—and it's when she's about to die. Fuck off."

Jason growls, his whole body tensing towards Duke. Fists clenched, as if he's ready to fight.

"You don't know shit about this, kid. Don't talk about stuff you don't understand."

But while he speaks, Duke's already moving. He lifts her into his arms as carefully as he can, securing her against his chest like she’s the most fragile thing in the world.

She feels too light. Too cold.

"What I understand," he grits out, adjusting her weight. "is that this family has a fucked-up way of showing their affection. And if any of us should carry her to the hospital is me."

He doesn’t wait for Jason’s reply. He's gone before he can even touch him.

Duke knows this converstation isn't over. Hell, he’s probably going to get chewed out—or decked—for this later.

But right now, there's only one thing in mind:

Save his sister.

"Oracle here. What's the situation, Red Hood?"

"I'm heading to the hospital."

"What? Why? What happened? Signal didn't tell me anything."

"He found someone and took her to receive urgent medical care."

"Her? Wait, what do you mean? Signal wouldn't leave the place like that. There's still people evacuating. Who's her?"

".........."

"...Jason, who did he found?"

"....Call B. Tell him his daughter is in the hospital."

"What? But Cass is nowhere near the zone. What are you—"?

"His other daughter, Barbara."

".........you're kidding"

"We found her bleeding out and mangled all over a crushed car in an alley, right behind the warehouse. She was—she wasn't breathing, Barbara."

"Good God. But—I don't understand, what was she doing there? How come we didn't hear about it."

"Maybe she was one of the hostages. Who knows how long she's been trapped there. Duke said she has been gone the whole morning."

"But...if she was kidnapped, we would've known, right?"

"....No. We wouldn't."

"Jason—"

"I'm leaving. Tell the others to handle it. Red Hood out."

The comms go silent.

As soon as he arrives to the clinic he doesn't waste time.

Gotham City General was closer—and technically, the more “reasonable” choice, but given the circumstances, he has to make sure those who treat her are people he can trust.

He glances down. Her blood coats his arms and chestplate, and the pressure in his throat tightens until he struggles to breathe.

Time's running out.

At any other hospital, he’d lose precious minutes trying to convince the staff not to touch her blood. He’d have to explain without explaining, dodge questions, navigate protocol. And she would die before getting the help she needed.

No—there's only one place he trusts to handle this.

Thompkins Clinic.

Dr. Leslie is already moving when he bursts through the doors, her staff following close behind, but pauses when she sees the girl in his arms.

"She needs urgent medical care," he says quickly, voice shaking. "I don't know how long she was bleeding before I found her, but she stopped breathing, and I know she must've broken something. Please—"

The woman cut him off with a raised hand.

"I can see it, boy. Don't worry, leave it to me."

She turns, motioning to her staff—

But Duke takes a step back, shifting his weight protectively.

"Wait—before you do anything, there's something you have to know."

They all pause.

"Her blood...is dangerous. I can't explain it, but if your skin touches it, it'll hurt you."

Shock flashes across the faces of the medics. A couple of them glance nervously at the blood still fresh on his gear.

Dr. Leslie squints at the girl’s body.

"You mean her blood is toxic?"

"Just—" he swallows hard. "Make sure you clean her first. And wear protection."

The woman stares at her, then at him. And lets out a deep sigh.

"Honestly, this isn't the weirdest thing I've had to deal with. Okay then, avoid contact with her blood. Noted. Now hand her over."

But he doesn't move. Doesn't let the doctors do it.

Instead, he lays her down on the stretcher himself, as carefully as he can. Like she'll shatter if he’s not.

She still doesn't stir.

He has to force himself to tear his eyes apart from her and turns to Leslie, who’s already barking instructions.

"Alright. Prepare the surgery room. I’m betting on internal damage. Full scan. Strap her in and put her on oxygen—we need to restart her breathing immediately."

She looks at Duke again.

"Have her parents been notified of this?"

"Well—"

"Yes, I have been."

A sudden voice speaks from behind them.

Duke spins around—

And breathes out sharply.

"Mrs Wayne?"

Another figure appears, stopping beside her.

"Batman?"

a/n: I'm sorry if it feels short. I'm still figuring out the pace. The chapters will be longer in the future. If you like this story, show your support by commenting and rebbloging. It'll be very appreciated💕

Taglist: @lithiumval @i-simp-for-women

[illbegottenfaith]

BAD REVIEWS (a Bad Reviews by Sabrina Carpenter inspired fic)

you've heard more than your fair share of bad reviews about theo nott. that doesn't stop you from becoming the newest addition (theo nott x reader) [best viewed in dark mode]

a/n - i did NOT realise this fic was turning out this long which I think speaks to how much fun I was having writing it, planning it out carefully and setting the slow burn justtt right ahh I truly think this is one of my best pieces of writing ever? at least I rlly like it hahah so enjoy :))

tropes/warnings - tw toxic r/ship descriptions, lovebombing, unhealthy possessiveness, angst

word count - 6k! whoo!

taglist - @kandralice @justme989898 @iamheretoread1234 @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf @user089167

Little Miss Formerly Delusional ★★★★☆ He’s charming. Too charming. He will reel you in just so he can ruin your life. I gave him my time, my life, my youth, and where do I end up? Crying in his shower - NEVER. AGAIN. He's so good at making you feel special. Scratch that - he's so good at getting what he wants.

It started at a picnic.

The kind that got cobbled together last minute with leftover snacks and a secondhand deck of cards, bodies strewn across the grass in lazy clusters, all chatter and sunshine and no plans beyond the hour.

You hadn’t planned to stay long. You almost left twice. But then someone pulled out a pack of cards, and everyone had gotten paired up for a game - you with Theo Nott, of all people - so you stayed.

You were seated opposite each other, cross-legged on some thin picnic blanket, knees knocking every so often every time one of you leaned over the card deck between you. Some slap-happy mess of a game that had rules no one followed properly but left everyone’s hands red and stinging from all the shouting and reflexes gone wrong.

Theodore Nott - teasing, long-limbed, annoyingly pretty - watched you with his sleeves rolled at the elbow, tie loosened. His eyes locked on yours with a lazy kind of intent. You'd seen him around plenty, and heard about him even more, but this was the first time you'd actually talked to him. Up close, he was worse. His vacant grin too self-assured with a rich, arrogant voice that promised all sorts of unscrupulous things.

Theo flirted, of course, in the way boys like him always did - bold, rehearsed, shameless. Fixing you with unabashed, unrelenting eye contact. Leaning over to you closer than what was strictly necessary. Playing the role of injured loverboy for every round he lost.

You rolled your eyes through most of it.

You'd heard the stories. Everyone knew the way he moved from girl to girl, leaving miserable shells in his wake like it was nothing. That boy didn’t even have a heart to break.

Three rounds in, he spoke up when you won. Again.

“You’ve got quick hands.”

You shrugged, sweeping up the cards.

“You’ve got a slow reaction time.”

His grin widened. “So modest.”

You finally deigned to return his gaze, your face as impassive as ever. “I don’t usually play nice.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “I like girls who make me work for it.”

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. Was that supposed to flatter you? Impress you?

"Do you?" you mumbled instead, dealing the cards out once again. When Theo didn't move to pick up his, still intent on watching you, you gave him a look and sighed.

“Look. You don’t even know me.”

“I’m trying.”

You looked bored.

“And why is that?”

“Because you look like you’ve already decided I'm not worth your time.” He rested his chin on his hand, unbothered. “Now I need to know if you’re right.”

You hesitated. That was...unexpected.

But you recovered almost immediately.

“Well,” you said, eyes flicking to the deck, speaking quickly, “I'll have to warn you. I’m not the kind of girl who gets affected easily.”

“‘Affected,’” he echoed, amused. “That's adorable.”

It wasn’t what you actually wanted to say. What you meant was: I’ve heard what you do to girls. I’ve seen the aftermath. And I’m not anywhere near stupid enough to be next.

But you didn’t say any of that. You just kept her expression level and glanced at the cards, seeing what Theo had missed. You slapped your hands on his.

“4 - 2,” you said, with a thinly veiled smugness.

Theo looked at your hands, then up at you, and smiled slow.

“You like this, don't you?"

“I like winning.”

He didn’t let you win the next round. Or the one after that. Or the one after that.

Later, when everybody was cooling off with some iced butterbeer, peeling grass off their sleeves, Theo glanced your way with a look that gave you a bad feeling in your gut.

He raked a hand through his hair with a careful air of nonchalance that was fooling no one, and said offhandedly, "You know, I let her win one of the early rounds, by the way.”

For a moment, you gaped at him and his slimy audacity. Then you sat up, affronted, nearly upsetting your butterbeer. “You what?”

He gave you a lazy blink. On another day, you might have considered him somewhat endearing. Today, he was getting on your last nerves.

“Thought it might soften you up.”

“You did not let me win," you said hotly, a strand of hair stuck to your uncomfortably sticky cheek. "You just couldn’t keep up.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t good. Just not as good as me.”

Oh, you could punch him. “The score was six to three - ”

“Yeah, and that third one? That was a gift.”

You turned to the others, scandalised. “He’s l - liar. Liar. He’s lying, I sw-.”

Theo just sipped his drink effortlessly. “I thought you didn’t get affected easily?”

That shut you up immediately. You turned away, face hot with something dangerously close to flustered. You'd walked into that one. Hard.

They'd only formally met a couple of hours ago and he somehow managed to already get under your skin. Just a little.

And he knew it.

When he leaned in a little closer to murmur something to someone beside him, you swore he was still smirking.

You weren't supposed to be caught off guard. Not by him. You knew boys like Theo Nott. Knew their tricks and charms and the revolving door of names on their lips.

Unfortunately, knowing didn’t make you any less curious.

Little Miss Territorial by Proxy ★★★☆☆ He’ll be possessive. And you'll like it. It feels flattering at first. I mean, why wouldn't it? Who doesn't luvvv being loved? It's always nice to feel wanted.

That's not what this is, though. Theodore Nott, erm, 'wants' in the way a hunter 'wants' a deer head stuffed and mounted on the wall.

The courtyard had that lazy kind of energy that lingered on warm afternoons - bodies stretched out, butterbeer bottles dusty and half-empty, faint music straining through the thick, heavy afternoon air from someone’s wireless. It was easy. Drowsy. Like no one wanted to be anywhere else.

Theo was already there when you arrived.

You noticed him from across the throng, lounging in one of the stone archways, a little separate from everyone else. He met your gaze. You looked away. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

Eventually, someone pulled out a deck of cards again. Out of the few of you who could tolerate the smacking and getting smacked on such a hot day, you partnered up with a Ravenclaw named Liam - broad-shouldered, painfully chatty, cursed with the unfortunate affliction of not being as funny as he thought he was.

When you beat him - again - he let out an exaggerated groan and slumped back dramatically.

“Alright, alright. Clearly I’m no match,” he said., as he poorly reshuffled the cards. Over the deck, he shot you a smarmy look that left you feeling icky all over. “Maybe you could teach me sometime.”

The line was lame. And obvious. You picked up the cards he dealt, not bothering to look up.

“Sorry. I don’t usually train the hopeless.”

Liam winced. “That’s cold.”

You shrugged. “It's true.”

Laughter buzzed through the few who were listlessly paying attention. Theo didn’t laugh. Didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Only stared.

His eyes had sharpened the moment Liam started talking. He hadn’t said anything yet, but you could feel the heat of it - the weight of his stare digging between her ribs.

You shifted slightly. You took a sip of your butterbeer to cool off and calm down. The saccharine drink had begun to sour in the relentless heat.

Liam nudged your foot with his own - light, playful. Theo straightened and sat up.

“Careful, mate,” he said, voice steady and too smooth. “You’re one bad joke away from a nosebleed.”

A few chuckles sputtered. Nervous ones. It didn’t sound like a joke. No one knew whether to laugh or move on.

Liam blinked, uncomfortable now.

“Relax, yeah? Just playing.”

Theo tipping his bottle at him languidly. “Just warning.”

Before it could stretch into something uglier, he abruptly shifted focus.

“I’m in,” he said suddenly, "the mood to play now.”

There was a shuffle as the group moved up a little to make room for Theo where they were all scattered across the floor.

You didn’t hesitate. You switched your partner to Theo before anyone else could move. Your knees bumped. His smirk twitched higher.

The game began. Slaps. Feints. Barely restrained grins. She won the first round. He won the next. By the third, she was half a beat faster. Or maybe he was just a beat slower.

He let her win. Or maybe she let him.

When he looked at you afterwards, head tilted, lashes low, he gave you a look of some quiet approval. Like you’d passed a test you hadn't even known you were taking.

You looked away first. Unexpectedly, you felt a flicker of pride. From there sparked an obsession with this most cursed type of validation, one that you had never known to be greedy for.

You took another sip of you drink, relishing the way your face warmed in the heat of the day under the intensity of his stare. Still, you should have known what you knew now - those days in the sun would only last so long. Not even a week later, the fights began.

Little Miss Made Excuses For His Anger Issues ★★☆☆☆ He plays dirty, so it's only fair you do too. When the fights begin - god, they'll never stop. He'll never listen to you, you'll go blue in the face trying to get him to change, he'll whine about you never getting off his back, you'll snap at him for breathing too loud, it's nuts.

Okay, fine, the last one wasn't exactly provoked. He was just in too good of a mood that day and it was pissing me off. But honestly? I was so valid for that. He needed to learn to shut the fuck up once in a while.

It wasn’t even about the cigarettes.

At least, not just about them.

You were poring over your books in the deserted Slytherin common room, trying not to think about Ivy had been telling you about a girl Theo had been getting pretty close to - some Romilda Vane. He lit one the second he walked in - like it was a reflex, like he was doing it on purpose. You could feel the now-familiar irritation bloom in your chest the moment the smoke hit the air, bitter and acrid and reeking of bad memories.

“Really?” you muttered, not bothering to look up from your notes. “In here?”

Theo exhaled slowly, deliberately.

“I'll open a window.”

“That’s not the point.”

He leaned against the window frame, posture relaxed, jaw tight.

“Then what is?”

You huffed irritatedly and slammed your book shut.

“The point is, you said you’d stop. Five days ago. In the hallway. After that disaster of a duel. Or did you forget that too?”

He had the audacity to sigh like you were being difficult for even bringing that up.

“For fuck's sake, Y/N, it’s one cigarette.”

“It’s your third.”

Now he looked at you properly, something dry and tired in his gaze.

“You're keeping count now? Are you keeping tabs on me?”

Maybe I should, the angry thought flashed in your mind. Who the hell was Romilda Vane anyway? You gritted your teeth. “I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t go through them like water.”

“It’s not a crime,” he muttered, but he stubbed it out anyway - carelessly, more like a challenge than a concession. “There. Better?”

“Sure. Until the next one.”

He laughed humorlessly.

“Sorry, Mother.”

That did it.

You stood suddenly, the legs of your chair scraping piercingly across the floor.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Turn me into some controlling shrew just because I care about your health - ”

"Oh, so now I'm supposed to thank you for breathing down my neck all the time?"

You seethed. “Is that supposed to be funny? Because it isn't. It's not. It's really not.”

“I’m not the one making a scene over a cigarette.”

“Forget the bloody cigarettes. That's not the point.”

“No,” he said, standing now, tone flat. “I think I get the point just fine. You’ve had a shit week, and I’m the easiest thing to pick on.”

The corners of your mouth tightened.

“You think I like picking fights?”

“Sure seems like it.”

You could hardly hear or think coherently over the sound of blood roaring in your ears. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re relentless,” he shot back. “It’s always something with you. First it’s me leaving my notes in the common room, then it’s how I ‘don’t take things seriously,’ and now it’s - ”

“Oh, I’m sorry - am I not supposed to care when you act like nothing is worth your attention?”

He scoffed and looked away, as if dismissing you, as if you weren't worth any more of his Wednesday night. You gathered up your books with more aggression than was strictly necessary, feeling embarrassingly close to tears with how crazy Theo drove you.

"I don't know why I bother with a degenerate like you. You always do this. I bring something up, and you turn it against me, or you twist it into me being dramatic, or overbearing - ”

He exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Well, if the shoe fits...” he muttered.

“God, fuck you.”

He never seemed more unattractive you than he did in that moment - caustically insensitive, sarcastic and selfish. You spun on your heel, grabbing your bag off the floor before storming out of the room without so much as a backward glance.

Theo didn’t follow. He just stood there for a beat, unmoving in the silence of the night. Then he leaned against the windowsill and lit another cigarette.

Little Miss "He Knows I Can Take It" ★☆☆☆☆ He'll Make You Feel Special Enough To Tune Everyone Else Out The man's arrogant enough to act like he's God's gift on Earth and he's shameless enough to act like the yelling and the screaming and the shit he gives you is a blessing. But after a while, if you're not careful, you'll go right on believing him. Twisting his abuse into some fucked up declaration of love because man does he sell the pipe dream of being his favourite punching bag well.

And the thing is - you're not his favourite. You never will be. That won't stop you from making an arse out of yourself trying anyway. The things I did? Ugh, embarrassinggg. Skipping parties, for what? Giving him all my time, for what? Cutting out the friends he didn't like, for what? A guy who needed a training broom till he was ten?? Be soooo fucking for real right now.

You didn't notice the glance Ivy and Melissa exchanged when you walked into your dorm. Your bag slid off your shoulder with a dull thump onto the floor, your shoulders aching.

“Hey.” Melissa said from her spot near the desk. “You missed lunch.”

You distractedly tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “I was revising,” you muttered, toeing off your shoes. “Didn’t realise the time.”

Ivy wrinkled her nose from where she was sprawled on her bed. “Merlin, you’re one of those. Don’t go all Ravenclaw on us now.”

You gave a faint smile. You hadn't realised how little you had seen of your friends over the past week. You missed them. “Too late.”

There was a pause. Melissa twirled a strand of hair between her fingers. You stilled, recognising that nervous tic of hers.

“Were you with him?” she asked casually. “Theo?”

You hesitated. So what if you were? “Yeah. So?”

“Right,” Ivy said, not unkindly. “He wouldn't have anything to do with you disappearing every other day now, would he?”

You were at a loss of words.

“...I’ve just been busy.”

They didn’t say anything.

You glanced up, feeling the air shift into something more worried, anxious.

“I don’t want to do this right now,” you muttered.

“We’re just talking,” Melissa said gently.

You shot her a look. You weren't dumb. Ivy sat up a little straighter. You could feel the both of them closing in on you.

“Look,” she said carefully, “I know you don’t want to talk about him. But Melissa and I think we should. You’ve changed. And it's...not good.”

“I’m fine,” you said tightly.

“You say that a lot lately,” Melissa said sadly. You scoffed. “It’s getting harder to believe.”

You exhaled sharply, massaging your temples.

“Can we not do this now?”

“You never let us do this,” Ivy said, brows drawing together.

Your stomach twisted.

“Because it’s none of your business,” you snapped. Your friends looked taken aback.

“I just - ” Ivy blinked. “We're not trying to - ”

“I know what you meant,” you cut in, voice rising. “You don’t like him. You think he’s bad for me. You think I’m stupid for being with him.”

“No one said that,” Melissa said slowly, frowning. “No one's saying that. We’ve just never seen you like this. We're not the enemy, Y/N.”

It sure felt like it. Melissa reached out, and in that moment of blind rage, you couldn't tell if it was to hug you or hurt you. You flinched out of her reach. You didn't miss the brief flicker of hurt that passed over her face. Even Ivy looked mystified.

“Y/N," Ivy said, getting up now. "Enough of this. We’re worried about you. He’s getting to your head, and you're so wrapped up in him that you can't even see it.”

You crossed your arms.

“I'm not a child, for Merlin's sake. I know he’s complicated. I’m not blind.”

“Then why are you defending him like he’s perfect?”

“Because you’re making it sound like he’s evil,” you snapped. “Like I’m too dumb to realise I’m being treated badly.”

You opened your mouth to continue, but no words came. Just heat. Frustration. Guilt twisting into something bitter.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” Ivy said quietly. “Not over anyone.”

Looking at your friends, their hostile postures and mutinous faces, you felt terribly alone. “Well,” you said, “maybe I’ve changed.”

Melissa stared at you, looking angrier than you had ever seen her. “Yeah. You have.”

You sighed.

“I don’t need a lecture right now.”

“And we’re not trying to give you one,” Ivy said. “But you’re making it really hard to not say something when you’re hurting yourself like this.”

“I’m not - ” you started, but stopped short.

Because you were hurting. You knew it. You’d known it for a while now. But hearing it sfrom someone else's lips made it feel like an accusation.

“We’re just trying to help you,” Ivy said, quieter now.

“I don’t need help," you said, chest tight. "I need you to back off.”

A listless kind of quiet descended in the room. Melissa’s jaw tensed. Ivy uselessly smoothed down her sheets.

“Well,” Ivy said, voice flat now, “I guess that's we’ll do then.”

Melissa wasn't as forgiving. “Whatever. It's your life to ruin, L/N.”

She drew her hair up into a ponytail. "Dinner, Ivy?"

The silence they left behind was deafening. You refused to dwell on the fight. You refused to acknowledge how damning their condemnations felt.

And still - when the dust settled, like a woman possessed, your thoughts drifted back to Theo. To that lopsided grin. That lazy smirk. Pulling you in, and in, and in, and in.

Little Miss Fool Me Twice, Shame on Me ★★★★★ He always knows when he's about to lose you And that's when he's the sweetest. He'd have to be - it's his last ditch attempt to distract you. He'll have you wondering how you could ever think of him as selfish or mean-spirited or anything other than the world's most-loving, most-devoted boyfriend. Boyfriend? HA!

It started the way most things with Theo did - loud, dramatic, and entirely unnecessary.

You stepped out of the Transfiguration exam room, clutching your wand, still mentally arguing with yourself over you shaky answer to question seven, when someone near the doors let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh.

“What the hell - ?”

Students were crowding toward the entrance of the castle, whispering, staring. You followed the noise, shielding her eyes from the sudden sunlight. And then you saw it.

A car. A bright red, shiny Muggle convertible, parked just off the stone steps, looking entirely out of place in front of Hogwart's gothic architecture. And leaning against it like he'd walked straight off the poster of some pretentiously obscure, too-slick indie film was Theodore Nott - sunglasses perched cockily in his curls, sleeves rougishly pushed up, charm turned on.

“Oh, my god,” you muttered under your breath, walking faster now, heat creeping up the back of her neck.

He caught sight of you and grinned. Not a smirk, not his usual self-satisfied half-smile. A grin.

Like he hadn't been a complete dick to you just two nights ago.

“What's all this?” you asked as you stepped up to him.

Theo straightened with a practiced laziness. “It’s a getaway car.”

You blinked at him.

“Weekend trip,” he clarified. “We need a break. You need a break.”

“I have two exams left.”

He shrugged. “Two is practically nothing.”

“Theo.”

Before you could continue your protests, he took your hand and kissed your knuckles in full view of half of your year, completely unbothered.

“Your stuff’s in the boot. Packed it this morning.”

Your mouth dropped open. How did he manage to get into the girls' dormitories?

“You what—?”

“There’s snacks,” he continued, unrepentant. “I even charmed the glove compartment to keep your disgusting fizzy drinks cold." Traces of the Theo you knew started resurfacing. He sounded pretty damn proud of himself. "You’re welcome.”

“You’re mental.”

“And you’re exhausted.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Come on, Y/N. You can revise in bed with me and a view of the sea. There’s a fireplace. I booked the biggest suite they had.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your palm. Your face burned.

"Please? For me?"

You should’ve walked away. You meant to walk away.

But he had that look again - the one he used to reel you in after every fight. The one you couldn't bear to tell off. That soft-eyed, unwittingly innocent look like he wasn't even capable of doing anything wrong, let alone on purpose. Behind him, the sunlight hit the car just right, glinting off the chrome like some surreal, too-good-to-be-true movie scene.

It was stupid. And ridiculous. And maybe that was the point.

So you went.

On the drive down, Theo's hand casually resting on your thigh, wind whipping through your hair, you told yourself you weren't impressed.

But then you saw the room - two floors, a balcony, a charmed bath bigger than her dorm - and you maybe slightly let it go to your head.

He ordered room service like you were royalty, feeding you chocolate-covered strawberries by the tray, worshipfully kissing the tips of your fingers like he’d never once raised his voice or made you feel small.

He lit candles. Bought you a new jumper at one of the quaint, homey shops by the pier when you'd offhandedly mentioned feeling a little chilly. Got up to make you tea in the mornings and made it right - not the way he liked it, but the way you always complained about no one ever remembering it.

He let you pick the station on the wireless. Spoilt you relentlessly. Had the nerve to call you pretty in the midst of you lounging in the utter bliss of what was turning into the most indulgent heaven.

Maybe it was the wine. Or the way the fire flickered inches from you where you laid tangled up on the rug, breathing slow and even and in sync, like the world where you were constantly at each other's throats never existed.

Or maybe it was just the way he was looking at you again. Like you mattered. Like you were special. Like he was choosing to be good. Like he was choosing to be good for you.

You caught yourself smiling at nothing. You let him pull you into his lap. Let him press kisses down your neck, murmuring all the right things.

On the last night, your head was resting on his chest, his fingers tracing slow, thoughtless circles into your back. You should've been long asleep, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how different he felt like this. Like this version of him had always existed, but you were only just now being allowed to see it.

“I don’t get you,” you said, barely above a whisper.

Theo glanced down at you.

“What’s there to get?”

You propped yourself up on your elbow, looking down on what little you could see of his face not obscured by the dark or his soft curls. You tilted your head, considering.

“You’re just…different, sometimes.”

His hand paused.

Then he shifted, rolling you both over gently, lips brushing against your jaw, collarbone, shoulder.

“Maybe you just make me better,” he murmured.

You almost laughed.

Because it was such a good line. But that's exactly what it was - a line.

You drew Theo closer to you almost anxiously. He obliged, hands wandering to your hips. Distantly, you wondered if you carved open his heart, would you find anything remotely genuine inside?

It was late. You were tired. It made your head hurt to think of such depressing things.

So your eyes fluttered shut, and you let yourself succumb to Theo's ministrations. Let yourself believe it.

For one more night.

Little Miss Egg on My Face ★★☆☆☆ It Never Lasts It's almost a slap in the face, really - he could do it all for you, and more. He just doesn't want to. He doesn't care enough to even be halfway decent, especially once the glow wears off. So a week later, he goes back to his old ways, drinking and philandering, and you - well, you stayed, didn't you? Now who's the idiot?

For a few days, it almost felt like things truly had changed.

Theo had stayed soft, sweet, attentive. He sat with you during meals without you asking. Laced your fingers together under the table in study hall. Let you sleep in his bed, no questions asked, when you showed up exhausted after a double-length Potions exam. He even gave you his last chocolate frog during a study break and shrugged, saying you needed it more than he did.

And you started to believe it. That maybe the trip really had saved their relationship from ruin. Maybe this time, he meant every kiss, every touch.

But, like all good things, it didn’t last.

By midweek, you started noticing it again, despite your best efforts.

The way he brushed you off in the corridors with a distracted nod, not even slowing his pace. The way he left your group hangouts without saying goodbye. The way he started treating you like an accessory he wanted only sometimes.

It was subtle. Like he was slipping out of a persona.

One night, you watched him lean towards another girl a few tables over, heavily wrapped up in whatever riveting conversation they were sharing, all low laughs and half-lidded glances, his mouth tugged up at one side. The same smirk he’d used on you—only now it felt recycled. Contaminated. Revolting.

He didn’t even glance your way as you left the Hall.

You waited until you were alone. You found him near the back stairwell, the one they used to use to sneak up to the Astronomy Tower. He was lighting a cigarette. Of course. Something about this was beginning to feel destructively futile.

Your voice was quiet at first.

“Hey.”

Theo glanced over, eyes unreadable in the gloom of the night. “Hey.”

You hesitated.

“Can we talk?”

He exhaled a thin stream of smoke, then shrugged. “Sure. Talk.”

There was a beat of silence. Then she said, softly, almost apologetically, “You’ve been different. Since we got back.”

Theo looked away.

“Have I?”

You could feel him beginning to shut you out. You panicked. “I’m not trying to start anything," you said, hurriedly. "I just…noticed.”

“You always do,” he muttered, flicking ash onto the stone floor.

You frowned. “I’m not accusing you.”

“Not yet, you're not.”

Something about the way he said it - flat, unaffected - made you feel ridiculous. A laughingstock. Overly emotional. Wholly irrational.

Still, you pushed on. “You were great this weekend, Theo. Really. Till now, I didn’t want to say anything because I liked that. I liked you. And now - ” You swallowed. “Now I don't."

He raised a brow.

“Because I sat at a different table?”

“It’s not just that.”

“Then what is it?”

You worried your bottom lip.

“You’re pulling away again.”

Theo laughed condescendingly.

“Well, forgive me if I don’t feel like being your emotional support boyfriend every minute of every day.”

You stared at him.

“Is that what you think I want?”

“Sure seems like it.”

You stepped back, your frustration mounting.

“God, you’re unbelievable. I’m trying to talk to you, and you’re acting like I’m some clingy, nagging -”

“Well, aren’t you?”

Your mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”

“I’m serious that this, is getting old,” he said, not even bothering to look at her now. “The whining. The melodrama.”

You hated the way your voice was beginning to shake.

“You always do this, Theo. Every time we get close, you run the other way. You pretend none of it ever happened.”

He turned to you now, finally meeting your eyes with that cold, dead gaze of his.

"We had a nice weekend. We had one nice weekend. Newsflash, princess - it's not that deep."

Your chest tightened, your breath catching in your throat.

He didn’t stop there. “You act like I’m supposed to worship you like some lovesick puppy all day every day. Don't you get exhausted by how much you want all the time? Do you really need to be wanted that badly?”

There was a long pause.

Then you exhaled, sharp and cold.

“Fuck you.”

He didn’t blink. “That’s more like it.”

All this while he'd been trying to buy your infatuation. Meanwhile, you couldn't pay him to offer you a shred of respect.

You shoved past him, your nails digging crescent moons into her palms as you walked far, far away from him. The echo of your footsteps hit the walls too loud, too fast, like you couldn’t get away from him quickly enough.

He didn’t follow. Not that you expected him to. But the worst part was that it hurt exactly the way she knew it would that afternoon you first laid eyes on him. Because he didn't care - not really. Not enough for it to actually mean anything.

Still, some sick part of your heart pulsed with the worry that you'd go back. That you weren't strong enough to truly stay away from him. That you'd go crawling back to him on some cold, miserable night.

When your hands stopped shaking. When your voice stopped cracking. When you convinced yourself again that maybe he half-meant it that one time. That maybe he could change. That maybe he already had.

But for now, all that you could do was walk, and walk, and walk, until the halls swallowed you whole. Until he was little more than smoke curling in the wind.

The only thing heavier than your silence was the weight of still wanting him.

It’s always worse at night.

When the castle halls are quiet. When your bed’s too big. When there’s no fight left in you to battle the waves of want.

It was late—so late that even the stars seemed like a distant memory, hanging somewhere far beyond reach. It was a stupid hour, one where you should have been asleep, or at least pretending to be. But you weren't. You never could sleep the same without him anymore. Not when he’d been the one to fill the void inside you, even if it was with something corrosive. You hated it. And yet, there was no escaping it.

You missed him. How could you not? Despite everything, despite his flaws, his temper, his habits you loathed, you missed him. Even when he was the last person you wanted to think about, your mind wandered back to the way his lips felt against your neck, the way his eyes softened when he thought you weren't looking.

That stupid half-smile. The ominous smell of smoke clinging to his collar. The way his voice softened when he said your name like it was something precious meant only for him.

It was exhausting. This back and forth. The way he could make you feel like the most important thing in the world one minute, and a burden the next. Every time you thought you had him figured out, he flipped it. Changed the rules. Changed the game.

And still - still, you chose to love him.

You were too tired to care about what was “right” anymore. You'd been walking around in this fog of longing and resentment, trying to convince yourself that you deserved more, that you needed more. You needed to be more.

But you weren't. Not without him.

You'd told yourself you wouldn’t do this again. Had said it out loud, even. Had whispered it like a promise into your pillow the night you walked away. But the resolve didn't hold under the weight of your chest caving in from the loneliness.

You tried everything - busy days. Cold showers. Long walks. None of it worked. You couldn't help slipping.

And tonight, you're slipping fast.

Your bare feet carry you down the corridor before you can think. You don't react to the chill of the floor. Your head is vacant of any plans, any rational thought - just the sharp pulse of want, of need, of him.

You hesitate outside his dorm. But it's too little, too late. The time to turn back was months ago, when he was little more than a stranger on a picnic blanket you had enough sense to not get involved with.

The door creaks open.

He’s awake. He doesn’t say anything. You don't leave. He doesn’t ask you to.

He lifts the covers. Makes room for you without question.

You climb in.

His arms wrap around you like muscle memory. Like forgiveness he didn’t earn.

And you let him.

Because the thing about loving someone like Theodore Nott is, it’s never a fair fight. It's an affliction of the worst kind. It's a habit you can't quite quit. It’s knowing better. And choosing him anyway.

You closes your eyes and shift closer, pretending you don't know how this ends.

Little Miss Disillusioned ★★★☆☆ Would Not Recommend But Merlin...I always come back.

[forhappysake]

Late-Night Talking

Author's note: This can be read as part 2 of "Never Forget a Face," or it can be read as a stand-alone. 5k words, not proofread xoxo.

Summary: After you get to know Spencer, the team starts believing you may be more than friends. Despite pushing back against their jokes, you and Spencer quickly realize they may not be wrong.

Warnings: fem!reader, spoilers for season 12/13, mentions of typical BAU-level violence, age gap mentioned, one bed trope that i LOVE, no smut just some heavy fluff/making out at the end

“Checkmate,” Spencer said. 

You groaned. 

The soft glow of an antique lamp illuminated your surroundings. You sat cross-legged on an old leather armchair, resting your head in your hands. Spencer, across from you, looked a little too amused. The pair of you had been at this for roughly two hours. 

“I’m not sure why you decided to make that last move. If you want, I can show you some additional strategies and what I would have done in your place,” Spencer rambled. If it were any other man, you likely would have rolled your eyes and told them to shut up. Something about the way he spoke was entirely genuine, and he knew he had your best interest at heart. 

“No thanks, Spence. I think I’ve met my match for the day,” you said, rising from your seat. You stretched your arms above your head. “I could go for some coffee, though.”

He smiled as you turned to walk toward his kitchen. In the three weeks since the two of you had spent the evening talking, the two of you had only become closer. This was the third night this week that you had found yourself enjoying his company. 

“Do you want a cup?” you called behind the counter. 

It was quiet for a second, and you could imagine his eyes narrowing in thought as he weighed his options. “Sure,” he said. “Could you make it with-”

“Lots of sugar and a little bit of coffee,” you finished for him, appearing from behind the island with two cups in hand. “Here.”

Spencer thanked you, taking a small sip before setting the steaming cup on the side table. “Perfect,” he acknowledged. 

“Oh really? Maybe I should pursue a career as a barista,” you joked, whirling the mixture around in your mug with a small red stirrer. 

Spencer let out a small laugh before he grew quiet for a moment. He looked at you thoughtfully. “Not that I think you wouldn’t be good at it, but I think I - or uh - we prefer to have you on our team.”

As you opened your mouth to respond, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You set your coffee on the side table next to Spencer’s and pulled it out, unveiling Penelope’s name and face buzzing across your screen. 

“It’s Penelope,” you said. Spencer shot you a knowing look. 

You raised the phone and answered her video message request. Her face filled the screen. 

“Hello, my lovely,” she said to you in her usual bubbly manner. The bright pink bows in her hair and the way they matched what you could see of her dress made you smile. 

“Hey, Pen,” you greeted. “What’s up?”

“That’s the less lovely part,” she said, her smiling turning to a frown. “I need you in the office in an hour or less. We have a case.” 

You sighed as you shot a glance at Spencer who was staring at you from across the chess table. “Right, I’ll be there. Thanks.”

You were about to hang up when she spoke again. “Oh, wait! Y/N!”

“Yes?” you asked her, a bit confused by her sudden urgency. 

“Have you talked to Spencer? You’re the last one on my call list and I haven’t been able to get ahold of him for twenty minutes.” 

Rather than respond, you flipped the camera around to unveil Spencer sitting on the edge of the armchair. “Yeah, I think I can get ahold of him for you,” you quipped. 

Penelope gasped. “My two favorite BAU babies spending time together? Be still my speckled heart.”

Spencer groaned, looking directly at the camera. “Penelope, we’ve been over this. I’m 36. I’ve been with the team for over a decade. I’ve done time in a maximum security prison. I haven’t been a BAU ‘baby,’” he made air quotes with his hands, “for ten years.”

Penelope rolled her eyes, causing you to giggle and causing Spencer to furrow his brow. “Oh, Dr. Reid, your wit is charming but I fear you’ll always be a BAU baby in my mind.” 

Spencer huffed. 

“Regardless, it’s nice to see my babies together,” she said, her cheery disposition fading as she began clacking on her keyboard. “Anyway, I’ll see you lovebirds in an hour. Peace!”

You and Spencer had both frozen at her final statement as her face faded from the screen. Lovebirds?

In an attempt to diffuse the awkward silence that had fallen over the room, you cleared your throat. “I have to run home and grab my go-bag.” You rose and made for the door. Spencer remained seated, a perplexed look on his face. 

“I’ll see you in an hour?” you half-asked. 

Spencer snapped out of his thoughts, finally noticing that you were standing with your hand on his doorknob, ready to leave. 

“Y-yeah. Of course. See you there,” he said, offering a small yet sincere small. 

You drove home and grabbed your things, Penelope’s statement still ringing in your ears. Lovebirds. 

Sure, you enjoyed spending time with Spencer. In the month since you’d met him, you’d gotten to know him quite well. You knew how he took his coffee, what books he was working through at the moment, and how his therapy was going. However, you didn’t think that qualified you as lovebirds. 

You shook your head as you pulled into your parking spot at work. You were overthinking it. Penelope called people questionable names all the time. Just last week, the HR department was forced to give a seminar on workplace conduct after some of Penelope’s most famous lines were brought to the attention of the department. 

Spencer had leaned over to you during the presentation, nudging you with his elbow. “Last time they gave one of these, Penelope got in trouble for calling our friend ‘dark chocolate thunder,’” he whispered. You had widened your eyes at him and looked appalled as he offered a small, mischievous smile, turning back to the front.  

You paused for a moment before entering the building and thought about how that interaction had made you feel. The butterflies in your stomach took flight when he nudged your arm, the tingling sensation running through your veins as he whispered in your ear. Maybe Penelope wasn’t as far off as you thought. 

Regardless, you had a job to do. So did Spencer, for that matter. Based on the worried glances your coworkers gave you when you walked into the roundtable room, you could tell it was going to be a doozy. 

Emily and Spencer walked in moments later, taking their seats around the table. He offered you a small smile, which you kindly returned before focusing on Penelope’s presentation at the front of the room. 

Another serial killer, another flight that was going to take you across the country. 

For three days after touchdown in California, the team worked around the clock. On the third day, the team went out in pairs to keep watch over the local parks in town, from which women were being kidnapped and subsequently murdered. Emily had asked you and Spencer to stay behind at the police station in case any new developments came about.

By the time night fell, you weren’t sure when the last time you’d slept or eaten was. You were sitting on a couch in the meeting room assigned to the BAU for your time in California. You’d zoned out at the images of the victim’s bloody bodies before you on the coffee table, your eyes glazed over and bloodshot from the lack of sleep. 

When someone placed a hand on your shoulder, you jumped in surprise. 

“Just me,” Spencer said, putting one hand up in surrender. He’d walked in through the open door, you hadn’t even noticed his entrance.

You rubbed your eyes. “Sorry. What’s up? Any news?”

Spencer shook his head, sitting down next to you. He cleared his throat. “You could sleep, you know? I can always wake you if something changes.” 

You yawned. “I appreciate the offer, but don’t you think that’s unfair? You haven’t slept either.” 

He shrugged, glancing sideways at you. “I didn’t sleep for more than an hour at a time for three months of my life. This is nothing.” 

You looked at him in that moment. Truly looked at him. The small scar on the side of his neck where a few stray curls ended. The stubble on his cheek, getting longer each day you worked this case. Finally, your eyes met his. 

“Alright,” you relented. “Just promise you’ll wake me up if something changes.” 

Spencer nodded. “I’ll be right here next to the phone. Rest for a little bit.” 

Without another word, you sunk further down on the couch and laid your head back, falling into a dreamless sleep. 

SPENCER’S POV

I developed this habit of staring at clocks while I was away. Some might think that makes the time pass slower, but on the contrary, I found that the minutes flew by faster if I could zone out at something for long enough. 

I found myself practicing this same habit as the night passed. The only thing that pulled me from my daze was Y/N’s body shifting on the couch next to me. 

I turned to look at her. She rested her head on the back of the couch. Her hair had fallen haphazardly over one side of her face. The black top she wore was dangerously close to slipping off her shoulder. I leaned forward to strip off my suit jacket and gently lay it over her, the thick fabric wrinkling. As if on cue, she subconsciously pulled the jacked around her figure, burying her face in the material. 

I felt my heart warm at the sight and bit back a smile. She was still too innocent for the job. Probably too innocent for this world, frankly. But the pleasure of getting to know her had made Emily’s decision to place her on the team a no-brainer. She was, by all intents and purposes, a ray of sunshine. 

“You two look cozy,” Luke spoke from the doorway. 

My eyes shot up to face him. I tried to act casual like I wasn’t just oogling over my coworker.  “Oh. Yeah, she is.” 

Luke rolled his eyes. “Jig’s up, Reid,” he started, leaning against the doorway. “You’ve been looking at her like that for weeks. Why don’t you just ask her on a date?” 

I cringed. “Why does everyone keep insinuating that we’re somehow romantically involved?”

“Well let’s see,” Luke held up his fingers to count as he spoke. “You guys talk to each other like, all the time.” One. “You didn’t tell her to move when she accidentally sat in your seat at the conference table.” Two. “I know for a fact that she’s been out with you at least three nights a week, hence why she didn’t come out with Garcia and me last weekend.” Three. “You actually laugh when she tells you a joke.” Four. “You keep staring at her-”

“Alright, I get it,” I interrupted, holding up a hand to quiet him. I sighed. “You’ve forgotten some pretty important details in your explanation.” 

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Like what?” 

It was my turn to do the counting. “She’s roughly eight years younger than I am. I haven’t the faintest clue if she’s seeing anyone. She’s only known me for a month and she happens to know about… my history.” Luke glanced up at me, a touch of sympathy in his gaze. “Prison time is not exactly a turn-on to most women,” I admitted. 

Luke took a deep breath. “Well, I hope it works out however you want it to, Reid. I can say this for sure, I haven’t seen you this happy in a year.” 

I watched him begin to walk away before he turned to look back over his shoulder. “By the way, we caught the guy. Wheels-up in thirty.” 

With that utterance, he was gone. 

READER’S POV

The next thing you remembered was Spencer gently shaking your shoulder. “Y/N,” he said your name quietly. 

You rolled over, groggy as you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself. “Yeah, what’s up, Spence?” 

“The case is closed. We’re going to get ready to go home.” 

Your eyes shot open. “Really? I can’t believe we missed it,” you said, sounding somewhat disappointed. 

Spencer shrugged. “I think I would prefer the comfort of this place than being out there.” He pointed out the window where a steady rain had begun falling over the parking lot.

You groaned, peeling the blanket off your body. It was just then that you realized it wasn’t a blanket, but Spencer’s jacket. 

“Oh. Uh. Here you go,” you offered it back to him. 

Spencer took it from you, immediately beginning to overexplain himself. “Sorry, I just thought you looked kind of cold and your shirt was hanging off your shoulder so I thought it would be better if I-”

“Spencer,” you cut him off. “I was just going to say thank you.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah. Of course. Sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing. Let’s just get out of here and back home.” You offered him a warm smile, reassurance that he hadn’t overstepped your boundaries. 

You found it quite endearing, actually- him having covered you up. When he smiled back, your stomach did a backflip. God, you were screwed. 

The two of you hurriedly packed up the files strewn about the precinct and drove back to the hotel. The flight home was relatively uneventful. You did, however, notice Luke giving you one of his mischievous smiles. Halfway through the flight, you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Luke, what is your deal?” you asked quietly not to wake JJ, seated next to you. Spencer, who sat across from the table on the jet’s couch, sneaked a glance up from his book, slyly listening in to the conversation you’d started. 

“Did you have a nice nap earlier this evening, Y/N?” Luke asked jokingly. 

You rolled your eyes. “As a matter of fact, I did. Why are you asking?” 

Luke glanced over at Spencer. “I saw loverboy went out of his way to keep you warm.”

It was your turn to glance at Spencer, whose cheeks were turning pink as his lips pressed into a thin line. He looked back down at his book, acting as though he wasn’t listening. 

You leaned forward across the table. “Look, Luke. I’m not sure what delusions Penelope is feeding you, but Spencer and I are just friends. Just like me and you. Just like me and everyone on this team.”

“Uh huh,” Luke said, unconvinced. He popped a piece of candy into his mouth. “When’s the last time you spent three evenings at my apartment?” 

“Maybe I would spent three evenings at your apartment if you were intelligent and mature enough to keep up an adult conversation,” you shot back. 

Luke raised his eyebrows. “Touched a nerve there, did I?” he joked. 

“It isn’t funny, Luke,” you scolded. “And for that matter, I happen to be seeing someone.” 

That caught everyone’s attention. You saw Spencer twitch out of the corner of your eye, his brow furrowing has his grip on the book in his hands became firmer. Luke laughed. 

“You have been going out with someone?” he asked, somewhat incredulously. 

You took offense to his reaction. “Why is that so hard to believe?” 

Luke shrugged. “I don’t know. I just hadn’t heard about this before.”

“Well, I don’t exactly go out of my way to talk about my personal life. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you tapped the empty coffee cup in your hands. “I need to replenish my supply.” 

You made your way to the back of the jet. Seeing the coffee pot empty, you began the task of brewing more. 

“Was that true?” Spencer asked from behind you. 

“Jesus,” you said, trying not to jump out of your skin, “You’ve really got to quit sneaking up on me like that.” 

“Sorry.” He stood awkwardly in the doorway, blocking your view of the rest of the jet. “But was it true?”

“Which part?” you challenged, watching the dark liquid fill the pot.

“The part about you seeing someone.” 

Your cheeks reddened. “No. It wasn’t true. I just wanted to get Luke off my back,” you admitted. 

Spencer sighed what almost sounded like a sigh of relief. “Was the rest of it true?” he continued. 

“What do you mean?” You looked at him, genuinely confused as to what he was referencing.

Spencer took a step closer to you, and you could feel the heat coming off his body as he looked down at you. He lowered his voice to a near whisper, “The part about us just being friends.” 

Oh. 

“Well, I- you know we haven’t really ever discussed if we would even… I- I don’t know,” you stuttered. 

Spencer nodded and the serious expression on his face faded to his normal friendly facade. “Right. I just wanted to check,” he said casually before making his way back to his seat. 

You were in shock regarding the conversation that had just occurred and remained that way for the rest of the flight. You found yourself glancing at Spencer often and occasionally, you’d catch him looking at you too.

You put your headphones in, in an attempt to take your mind off of it. The reprieve of the music in your ears was short-lived as JJ nudged your shoulder. “Did you hear Emily?” she asked. 

“What? No, what did I miss?” you looked around, confused, before Emily appeared beside you. 

“Sorry, I should’ve checked to make sure everyone could hear me,” she apologized. “Change of plans. We’re stopping in Tennessee. I just got a call from an old colleague. They need some help.”

You tried to hide your disappointment. All you wanted to do was get home to go to bed. Not to mention, you needed time to think over this whole Spencer thing. However, it was clear that wasn’t going to happen. 

Two hours later, you were on the ground in Nashville. 

The team stumbled into a hotel lobby. It was 2 a.m. You could tell you all looked terrible, and you weren’t sure you all smelled much better.

“Alright,” Emily said, coming back from the check-in counter. “Here’s the deal. Since I booked last minute, I could only get four rooms. We’re going to have to double up.” 

You watched as pairs were quickly formed. JJ and Emily stepped to one side. Tara and Luke to another. Rossi and Matt even joined up. You and Spencer stood awkwardly next to each other. 

“Right, well, here are your keys,” she handed you the room keys for yourself and Spencer. You sighed and took off for the elevator, Spencer in tow. 

The elevator ride and walk to the room passed without a word. When you stepped into the hotel room, you immediately flopped your bags on the ground and dropped to the floor. 

For the first time in two hours, Spencer spoke. “What are you doing?” 

You didn’t get up, still lying prone on the floor. “Relaxing.”

“Do you know how many germs are on the floor of a hotel room? If I had to estimate, based on research-”

“Spence, please,” you cut him off, “I’m getting up, I’m getting up.” You rolled over and sat up, looking up at him. 

It was also the first real glimpse you’d caught of the room since arriving, and you felt your stomach drop when you grasped one key detail. 

There was only one bed. 

Oh. Oh. 

Spencer followed your eyes to the single bed. “Don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said sincerely. 

You scoffed. “Spencer, that’s ridiculous. You’ve told me time and time again how your back bothers you because of these terrible hotel beds. I can’t imagine what state sleeping on the floor would leave you in. I’ll do it.” 

He shook his head. “I would never expect you to do that.”

“I know." you weighed your words carefully. “We can share the bed, you know? It won’t be a big deal. As long as you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

Spencer looked between you and the bed for a moment. “Okay,” he said simply, throwing his bag on the ground. “Do you prefer a certain side?” 

You hummed, standing up from the floor. “Do I want the slide closer to the AC or the side closer to the window?”

Spencer smiled, raising his eyebrows. “These are some tough decisions.”

You nodded. “I’ll take the window. You can have the vent.” 

“How thoughtful,” he quipped. 

You bent over and began going through your bag. “You can go ahead and shower first, Spence.”

He nodded. “Alright, I’ll be quick.” 

Grabbing his bag, he disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door. You heard the click of the lock and sighed in a mix of relief and disappointment. He hadn’t brought up your previous conversation. Maybe he hadn’t meant it or maybe he meant it differently than you interpreted.

Pulling your pajamas from your bag, you resigned yourself to sit on the edge of the bed and wait. Minutes later, Spencer reappeared. His hair, slightly damp, hung down over his eyes. He wore a pair of plaid pajama pants and a loose t-shirt that clung nicely to his biceps. 

He looked good. Really good. 

You were lucky you didn’t start drooling right there. Spencer caught your gaze. “Is there something on my shirt?” he asked seriously. 

You shook your head, averting your eyes. “No! I mean - no. Not at all. I’m just tired.” You stood up from the bed and without another word, shut yourself in the bathroom in an attempt to get yourself under control. 

SPENCER’S POV

It had been five minutes and seventeen seconds since Y/N went to take a shower. I laid back on the bed, head propped up by some pillows, and thought as the time passed. 

It had been five minutes and forty-five seconds of me thinking about how to approach this conversation with her. 

I knew after our exchange on the plane that I’d have to come to terms with my feelings eventually. Even if I’d only known her for a month, I couldn’t help but gravitate towards her. I loved her smile, the way she laughed at my jokes, and how she genuinely listened when I talked. 

Most of all, I was starting to think I loved her. 

When I heard the bathroom door open, I tried to be nonchalant. I reached for my book on the side table and quickly began reading through it, flipping pages as I finished them. I felt a dip in the bed and saw her sit on the edge out of my periphery. 

She was slipping her socks on, facing away from me, her damp her hanging loosely in front of her face. I wanted to do nothing more than tuck it behind her ear and kiss her right then and there. 

I had to be logical, I told myself. I shook the thoughts away and tried to focus on the book in my hands. 

READER’S POV

Spencer didn’t speak to you when you came out from the shower, offering only a glance and a small smile as he skimmed through the book in his hands. After slipping on your socks, you tucked yourself under the covers next to him, turning off the light next to your side of the bed. 

It was silent for a moment before you heard his book thud down on the side table. “Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, flipping the lamp off.

“Night, Spence,” you said back. You rolled to your side so your back was to him, trying to minimize the amount of space you took up in the bed. 

The two of you stayed that way for twenty minutes. You breathed slowly, trying not to think about the man in the bed next to you. Just when you thought you may have relaxed enough to drift off to sleep, the lamp next to Spencer’s side of the bed flipped on.

You kept your eyes shut, pretending to be asleep as you felt him shift in the bed. You wondered if he was just restless, struggling to wind down after working so many cases back to back. Seconds later, he spoke.

“I know you’re awake. I think we should talk,” he said quietly. 

Your eyes shot open. You rolled over to face him, trying to remain calm. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“Let’s play a game,” he suggested. Your eyebrows shot up. You did enjoy a good competition. “I’ll ask you a question, you ask me a question. How does that sound?” Spencer asked. 

You searched his eyes for any hint of mischief but found none. Who were you to say no? You sat up in the bed, crisscrossing your legs as you faced him. 

“Shoot,” you challenged him. 

“Does it bother you when the team suggests we’re romantically involved?” 

You hadn’t quite expected that one. You looked around the room, taking a deep breath as you pondered. “Not as much as it probably should. Does it bother you?” you countered. 

Spencer shook his head. “Only when I thought it made you uncomfortable. Now that I know it doesn’t, no.” He paused for a second, narrowing his eyes at you as he tried to pick out his next question. 

During this lull, you reached for your water bottle on the side table and took a quick drink. “Do you find me attractive?” he asked. 

You nearly spit out your water. 

You sat up a bit straighter, trying not to let him see just how attractive you thought he was. “Well… that’s quite a direct question. But, yeah. Yeah, I think you’re attractive.” 

Spencer nodded, satisfied, though he didn’t look smug. Just content. 

“Do you think I’m attractive?” you asked. 

Spencer glanced up at you, his hands folding and unfolding in his lap as he tapped the tips of his fingers against his thigh. “Very,” he admitted. 

The two of you were quiet once more, not sure what to do with this newfound information. 

Spencer cleared his throat and you could hear the doubt and concern seeping into his voice when he spoke again. “Does it bother you that I’m older than you are?” 

You figured that was coming. “No. You’ve never made me feel younger or dumber for it. I often forget we aren’t the same age.” You shrugged before continuing. “Does it bother you that I’m younger?”

Spencer thought for a moment. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I was just afraid you’d think I was strange for finding you attractive since you are younger than I am.” 

You laughed. “Spencer, I find you strange for many reasons, but our age difference is not one of them.” 

Spencer smiled shyly at you. He seemed to appreciate the endearing way you used the word “strange” to describe him.

“Can-” he stuttered for a moment, you could tell he was nervous about his next question. He took a breath, building confidence. “Can I kiss you?” 

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes widening immediately. He turned a bright shade of crimson, his confidence seemingly wavering. “You can say no, of course. I’m sorry if I made this weird, I just thought-”

“You can kiss me,” you interjected. He looked at you, his crimson blush fading away but his eyes still uncertain. “I’d like for you to, actually,” you reassured. 

Spencer sat up straighter on the bed, his earlier expression gone serious as he moved closer to you. He gently placed one hand on your cheek, holding you in place as his lips met yours. 

His lips were soft. In fact, everything he was doing was soft. The way he gently cupped your face, the way his other hand had come up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the way his mouth moved against yours. His tongue probed your mouth open, a small moan eliciting from him when you allowed him access. 

The tenderness disappeared quickly as he kissed you with more urgency. The two of you fell back on the bed like teenagers. 

His hands moved from your face to your waist, holding you firmly against him. You tested the waters by moving your hands up his back and into his hair, earning a sigh of approval on his part. 

You slipped a hand under the front of his shirt, trailing your fingers across his chest. He pulled away from you, gently grabbing your hand.

“Too far?” you asked in a small panic, quickly withdrawing your hand from under the fabric of his shirt.

“Not at all,” he shook his head sincerely. “I just don’t want to get carried away.” 

Spencer sat up, his hand on your waist bringing you up with him. You both leaned back against the bed, your head resting on his chest. 

“I want to do everything with you,” he said lowly. You could feel his voice rumble through his chest as he spoke. “I want to do all of this and more. However, I do believe you deserve more than some random hotel with the guy who has only known you for a month.” 

“You're not a random guy," you corrected. You were a bit disappointed, but you understood and appreciated his sentiment. It was silent for a moment. "So where do we go from here?” you asked, genuinely curious. 

Spencer smiled, wrapping his arm tighter around your waist. “I think I should start by asking you on a date. How do you feel about Vietnamese food?” 

You raised an eyebrow, looking up at him. “You know I am very passionate about pho,” you joked. 

“Yeah,” he rested his chin on the top of your head, “How about when we get back, we go out on a real date, in a real restaurant that isn’t my apartment, and we make this something real?”

You lifted your head up to meet his gaze at eye level. “I’d love to,” you said with a smile. “On one condition,” you added. 

It was his turn to act surprised. “What’s that?” 

“That you don’t refrain from kissing me until then. I do enjoy being close to you,” you answered. 

Spencer grinned at you. His arm around your waist pulled you in for a soft kiss on the lips. After a moment, he pulled away. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he answered.

You laid your head back on his chest as he flicked off the side table lamp, the two of you quickly falling asleep wrapped in each others' arms.

[kcrossvine-art]

hi friends! This recipe/review was delayed at first from- well it was a different recipe originally, technically bat tempura should be the next item but id like my first tasting experience of bat to be made by someone else who knows what bat should taste like. The recipe after bat tempura is living armor and id intended to use geoduck to mimic the scale. Living armor is interesting with dunmeshi as they used the suit of armor in 3 different ways; grilling, steaming, and souping.

Affording geoduck, a PNW delicacy, is a stretch for one dish, let alone 3. With my write-ups id like to offer a chance that readers will actually be able to make what we talk about. So I opted to use regular clams instead. I feel myself above the fire so we're still sticking with one dish, the dish that doesnt require a grill or a helmet-esque plating arrangement.

Today in our delicious dungeon, we're going to be making Living Armor Soup!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into Living Armor Soup?” YOU MIGHT ASKThe ingredients used in the show didnt give much to work on, quoting "medicinal herb" and "special sauce".

1 lbs Mussels

Shallots

Garlic

Bay leaf

Curry powder

Chicken stock

Cream

Eggs

Its important to use cream as your dairy, the higher fat content gives you leeway with boiling and acidity to avoid curdling. Any cream should do. Still bring it to temp gently but rest assured in the moo moos protection. 

AND, “what does Living Armor Soup taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

A smoother, buttery-er cream of chicken soup

The mussel meat itself feels like a simplified version of chicken hearts- structurally and in taste

Its not bad. You could hard sell it to a picky eater 

Green onions would bring crispier top-notes much needed

And maybe building a roux base for the soup would fill out the low end?

I dont know what drinks would pair well with this. My heart wants to say red wine but im not a grape fan and cant get more specific than that

I think the hassle of procuring seafood is why when i ask my friends their opinions, the responses are middling to negative. You cant build a palate for it if you dont eat it enough. If i'd had fish stock i wouldve used that rather than chicken, while it doesnt turn the soup disgusting or make itself known much at all, awareness of its presence draws unfavorable comparisons to food I'd rather be eating. And eating for cheaper too (...besides the chicken hearts).

. Some mussels out of a bunch will inevitably be DOA, you wont be eating exactly a pound of them. This and waterweight are the nature of seafood. . Lay easy on the salt until the end before serving . If you have enough mussel stock left after straining, you might not need additional stock

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

From deciding to cook to sitting and eating, the process took about an hour and a half. Not bad but not great, considering this dinner left me feeling full for all of about an hour after.

And the mussels were mostly usable/alive too! I discarded maybe 3 of the whole pound! Sure seafood can be light eating- youd think the dairy and vegetables would hulk it up more. The science of what makes food filling isnt entirely understood, as is most nutrition and gastro science, so i dont know what to blame. Stunning that 1lbs of mussels was not enough to keep a 110lbs person full for an hour.

If i were to make this again, i would serve it with fresh dinner rolls (or another carb). Breads and seafood are joined at the hip in my mind. You want more delicate tastes from your fish? I got just the thing. An entire family of food with varying flavors and textures that just so happen to all work pretty well with the third thing people eat often with seafood; butter.

I give this recipe a solid 4/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) It needs workshopping beyond being recognizable to the show.

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

1 lbs mussels, cleaned and de-bearded

Butter

3 shallots, finely diced

3 garlic cloves, crushed

2 bay leaf

Curry powder to taste

120g chicken stock

100g heavy cream

2 eggs

Method:

Wash your mussels. Remove any beards and barnacles. Discard any mussels with open shells.

Finely dice your shallots and garlic.

In a saucepan, brown your shallots and garlic in some butter over medium-low heat. Once softened add your stock, bay leaves, and curry powder to the saucepan. Increase the heat to medium.

Add your cleaned mussles to the saucepan, the liquid should cover them but if not add more stock. Bring to a boil, and then cover and reduce to a simmer.

Keep simmering until most/all of the mussel shells open. Discard any that still havent after about 6 minutes of simmering. Set aside the remaining mussels.

Pass the liquid in your saucepan through a strainer and return the liquid into the saucepan.

In a seperate bowl, combine the eggs and cream together. Carefully stir the egg/cream mixture into the saucepan until incorporated.

Remove the meat from the mussels, either discard or save some shells for garnishing.

Place the mussel meat on the bottom of serving bowls and pour the hot broth overtop, add your garnish (if any) and enjoy!

[hopelesswrites]

Girls Night

Spencer Reid x Fem BAU!Reader

Summary: Spencer is just one of the girls and gets pampered.

Notes: Had to write this immediately, I have a couple little scenarios for Spencer and this reader in my head hehe.

Read Spencer and Reader going on their movie date here

-

For the past month following your movie ‘date’ Spencer had come over for girls’ night every week. You were surprised that he had not corrected your title of the now established tradition or complained about the girly nature of activities. He was content spending time with you, watching movies, eating more caramel popcorn and rejuvenating his skin with your pink clay mask.

The first night was full of giggles as Spencer adjusted to the unnatural feeling of the goop you spread over his face. Legs crossed on your sofa he sat perfectly still while you carefully applied the mask, explaining all its beneficial qualities in the same way he provides his own knowledge to you about topics.

“Don’t smile or it will crack” you warned after having to reapply on his nose after he scrunched it in discomfort.

“My skin feels tight” he complained while you manoeuvred him to lie flat against your sofa, long lanky legs dangling over the arm rest, you could only fit a 2-seater in your small apartment.

“Exactly, no need for egg whites”

Spencer huffed “can you read me the ingredient list please” he asked. You rolled your eyes knowing he wouldn’t see as he now had cold pads over his eyelids.

“Will an ingredient list help you relax?” You asked, already walking over to the table you had left the product.

“Lists do actually relax me”

You were hardly surprised by that revelation. “Okay, we’ve got kaolin clay, witch hazel leaf extract, aloe vera, pomegranate extract, a variety of vitamins, some other chemicals I can’t read, sodium hydroxide, may contain red 40” Spencer tensed at that last part but stayed quiet.

Back to present day you were currently pulling out snacks from your shopping bag awaiting Spencers arrival, along with Penelope and Emily. He had convinced you it would be extra fun with everyone. You also thought maybe he was eager to prove how easy going and laid back he could be outside of work, following a moment of teasing he copped earlier in the week by the team.

A knock at the door indicated someone’s arrival, opening the door you were met with Spencer, a different button down and cardigan on than the ones he wore earlier today for work. “I brought the popcorn” he cheesed as he walked in, finally feeling comfortable within your space to hang his satchel on the hook by the door and walk towards the kitchen to put his addition with the other snacks.

“Are we making cookies?” Spencer asked, noticing the flour and sugar also laid out on the bench.

“Emilys idea, she’s bringing some fancy chocolate chips.”

As if summoned, a knock on the door pulled your attention away from Spencer. On the other side, Emily and Penelope stood together.

“Hello, my sweets, who’s ready for some pampering fun?” She chimed as she walked into your apartment. Emily cheered as she followed Penelope in.

 “Spencer are you ready to be completely physically, emotionally and spiritually transformed?” Penelope asked, dropping her own bag of goodies on the kitchen bench. She had an array of different masks and serums while Emily contributed the chocolate chips and a bottle of wine. Spencer suddenly looked nervous as he watched the three of you.

“I have this wonderfully delicious hair mask” Penelope spoke, displaying the bottle as if she were on an infomercial. Reaching over she took a chunk of Spencers hair that had fallen in his face and rubbed it between her fingers, “Definitely needs a hydration boost.” She turned to you now, “This my friend is for you, go give the boy the best salon experience he’s ever had, Emily and I will handle the cookies” There was a twinkle in Penelope’s eyes that told you she was absolutely up to no good. She obviously knew you had a crush on the BAUs resident genius, in fact, you were certain everyone knew.

You led Spencer into your bathroom, quickly scanning to make sure you hadn’t left anything embarrassing out. You were clear.

“Can you try not to get it in my eyes please, they’re sensitive” Spencer asked shyly.

You set him up with a cushion beside the bathtub and a towel around his neck, instructing him to lean back. You handed him a small towelette. “For your eyes, princess” you teased, watching as heat tinted his neck and cheeks.

“I much prefer the face masks; this isn’t relaxing at all” Spencer grumbled while you carefully soaked and lathered his hair in shampoo.

You hushed Spencer with a stroke of your fingertips down the top of his head, massaging the shampoo to his scalp. His fingers frantically fidgeted in his lap as you slowly teased and scratched around his ears and the back of his neck. You observed his features in the harsh fluorescent light, making him look gaunt but in a captivating Tim Burton character type of way, and God, that neck. He was so lean, every muscle contracted and moved with the tiniest of flex, you could see exactly how he tensed his jaw with each of your movements.

That’s when the slightest of whimpers left his lips, so, so quietly. You watched as he pressed his lips together tightly in a panic, you could picture his eyes screwed shut behind the towelette as well. Your heart was beating like a drum, thick heavy bass like beats that crawled up your throat, arousal erupting throughout your body.

And he was none the wiser of the affect he had on you.

Deciding to end both of your torture you rinsed out the shampoo and lathered his hair in the mask Penelope had brought over.

“This has to sit for a few minutes, do you want me to put the mask on?” You asked, allowing Spencer to take the cloth off his eyes. He blinked up at the bathroom light nodding in agreement.

“How’s it going in here?” Emily spoke, popping her head into the bathroom with a smirk.

“Uh- yeah fine, almost done” You stuttered out, you felt somewhat exposed, despite knowing how clueless Spencer actually was. “We’re almost ready for the movie” Emily said, motioning to your living room.

You all gathered in the small space, Emily and Penelope on the sofa, you on your armchair and Spencer on the floor, he insisted he was happy there, yet you felt bad for all the uncomfortable positions you had put him in tonight.

The rest of the night was easy, filled with skincare, wine and snacks, movie practically forgotten by you and the two other ladies while you gossiped, Spencer entirely engrossed in whatever chick flick Penelope had picked.

“You look fabulously rejuvenated boy genius” Penelope gushed once you had washed off the masks from his face and hair. “And you smell like apricots and honey, I told you it was delicious” She flicked the strand of hair that refused to stay off his forehead, causing him to flinch away and fuss with his hair, tucking it behind his ears.

At the end of the night, you followed your guests to your front door, bidding them a good night. Spencer stood at your door once the others had left, satchel back in its place across his shoulder.

“Thanks for including me in girls’ night” He spoke softly.

“Spence, it’s our night, we included them in girls’ night” you laughed, noticing his shyness return. In a sudden moment of boldness you added, “I kind of prefer it when its just us though” Curious to know if he would get the hint.

His cheeks reddened again as he looked down at his feet, “Yeah me too”

[wdcbug]

young and beautiful⠀⠀⋆·˚ ༘ *⠀⠀kimi antonelli.

pairing. kimi antonelli x gn!reader.

word count. 1.5k.

summary. on a quiet friday evening, golden sunlight and soft melodies set the stage for playful banter between you and kimi. what starts as teasing over music turns into a tender moment, as stolen glances and swaying steps reveal feelings neither of you expected.

warnings. none.

ellis’ addition. IM BACK! sorry for disappearing, ive been kind of down in the dumps all of winter holiday, but i think im back now. hopefully i can help you all survive through the rest of the off season. with that being said, my requests are open! pretty please send stuff. dedicated to the lovelies @lechrts @therealplaguedoctor and @planetpedri ♡

the warm, golden light of the sunset spilled through the kitchen window, painting the room in hues of amber and rose. the black speaker that played music in the corner crackled to life, filling the air with the soft melody of a lana del rey song.

the vibes were quite majestic for a mundane friday night. the sun kissed the walls of your apartment perfectly as it spilled in, caramel-scented candles were lit to drown out the overbearing smell of the sauce boiling on the stove and your friend, kimi, sat on the couch as quiet as a mouse. 

you stood by the counter, chopping vegetables with rhythmic precision, your hair loose and falling in soft waves around your shoulders. across the room, kimi now stood up, advancing towards you as he leaned against the fridge, arms crossed, watching you with an amused smirk.

“this is what music you listen to while you cook?” kimi teased, nodding toward the speaker as if he was slightly confused with your music taste. you playfully rolled your eyes, not bothering to look up as you stirred the sauce in the pot. “what’s wrong with it?” you questioned, pulling the spoon to your mouth to test the taste of the red paste. 

kimi watched your movements intently, licking his lips at the sight of the pasta sauce. he had been complaining for hours about how hungry he was, and now there was food in front of his face. in an attempt to distract himself from ogling at the food, he spoke up, “nothing.” kimi’s tone was anything but serious as he spoke, “it’s just really .. girly.”

you snorted, finally glancing at him as you put the spoon to the side, turning the sauce down a notch on the stove, “girly?” you weren’t completely offended at kimi’s words, you knew he always spoke his mind. it was one of his vices, yet a sick virtue blended within it. 

“yeah,” kimi spoke, straightening up and imitating a swooning gesture, “all this ‘blah blah romance heart-break’ nonsense.” in response, you rolled your eyes, letting out a huff, “you listen to podcasts about sports and rap music, kimi. you’re not exactly an authority on good taste.”

“hey, sports are fascinating – you know how much i care about my racecar,” kimi shot back, feigning offense, “at least they don’t sound like they belong in some hallmark romance film.”

you playfully rolled your eyes towards kimi, wiping your hands on a towel before you fully turned your body to him. a stupid smirk overtook your face before you quipped back, “well maybe i like hallmark romance films.”

kimi chuckled dryly, leaning his body against the countertop next to you, “shocking information,” he huffed, bringing his hand up to run it through his messy brown hair. “you know, i am not surprised – you seemed the type to love cheesy romance shit.” 

even though kimi expected you to make a comeback, he was a little taken back when he saw the mischievous gleam in your eyes, the soft smirk still remaining on your face. kimi knew you were plotting something – then again, you always were.

“you know what, kimi? since you’re so opinionated about my music, let’s see how you handle it.” you hummed, the same look decorating your face before you grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the middle of the kitchen. “what are you doing?” kimi asked, slightly startled, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly at him.

 “making you dance,” you replied simply, and in a brave action, you pulled him closer, “you owe me after calling my music girly.” placing your hands gently on kimi’s shoulders, you started to sway to the beat, young and beautiful by lana del rey playing crisply from the speaker.

kimi groaned, but the look on his face didn’t read anything of discomfort. he tried to fight a smile, yet it didn’t work as he gave in, placing his hands firmly on your waist. “for the record, i wasn’t insulting it,” kimi laughed, and you found yourself rolling your eyes all over again. “sure you weren’t.”

the two of you began to sway, the song’s soft rhythm guiding your steps. kimi seemed awkward at first, his eyes glancing down at his feet like he was expecting them to trip over each other. though the moment seemed quite stupid to kimi, it was anything but ridiculous to you. the way kimi’s eyes sparkled with curiosity pulled you in, sinking line and hook.

“you’re supposed to look at me,” you teased, your voice softer now. you had always given kimi a hard time and a moment like this was no different than others. kimi shyly raised his gaze to meet yours, and for a moment, the banter faded. his eyes sparkled with something you couldn’t quite name, and the way he smiled – like he saw you and only you — made your chest tighten.

“you’re not bad at this,” you spoke, breaking the silence before you continued to ogle at the boy in front of you. “i’m full of surprises,” kimi replied, his voice a little rougher than he intended which made you laugh once more.  “don’t get cocky,” you shot back, but your tone lacked its usual sharpness.

as the music played on, your movements slowed. kimi’s hands tightened slightly on your waist, and you felt your breath hitch once more. the teasing from earlier lingered in the air, but it had shifted into something warmer, something that made the space between the two of you feel charged.

your eyes found themselves lingering on kimi once more, a small smile coming to your lips as a red hue appeared on your cheeks. your reaction had confused kimi as his eyebrows began to furrow, everything about you – about this moment – felt so real.

“what?” kimi asked softly, noticing the way your eyes had been studying him. “nothing,” you dismissed quickly, but the flush on your cheeks gave you away as quickly as ever. “you’re a terrible liar,” kimi murmured, his voice low. you huffed slightly, the hue only darkening as a nervous laugh escaped, “shut up.”

kimi chuckled softly at your response, his grip on your waist firm yet gentle. his teasing smirk softened into something you hadn’t seen before – vulnerable, almost uncertain. for a moment, the air grew still, the fading melody of lana del rey's song the only sound filling the room.

“you’re blushing,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of surprise as if he had discovered something rare and precious. “am not,” you muttered, but your gaze darted away, betraying your words. kimi tilted his head, leaning in slightly, a playful edge still lingering in his tone. “you’re such a terrible liar,” he murmured again, his voice lower now, a quiet laugh breaking the tension.

your heart thudded loudly in your chest as his face hovered closer, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe. the teasing, the banter, the playful challenge – it all faded into the background. you could see it now, the way his brown eyes held something unspoken as if he was waiting for a signal, a sign from you.

gathering every ounce of courage, you looked up and met his gaze, the corners of your lips curling into a soft smile, “you’re insufferable, you know that?” kimi grinned, the kind that made the air between you feel electric, “but, here you are. stuck dancing with me in your kitchen.”

you let out a laugh, the sound easing some of the tension. “it’s a terrible idea,” you whispered, but your hands remained on his shoulders, neither of you pulling away. “terrible,” kimi agreed, his voice quiet and full of something deeper, something that made your cheeks flush all over again. and then, as if the universe decided for you both, he leaned in and kissed you.

the world seemed to pause, the golden light of the sunset framing the moment as if it had been written in some storybook. his lips were soft and warm, and the kiss was unhurried like the two of you had all the time in the world.

when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he whispered with a hint of a smirk, “i still think your music is girly.” you rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you nudged him playfully, “and for the record, you’re not as bad at dancing as i thought.”

the two of you stood there for a while, swaying gently as the next song began to play. the moment was quiet and full of promise, the kind that lingered long after the music had stopped and the sun had set.

[thedivineden]

Purrfect

pairing: Shota Aizawa x Hybrid!Cat

genre: Fluff x Smut

words: 3k+

notes: coworkers, hybrid cat, car sex, choking, blood, biting, breeding, exhibitionism, voyeurism

Hybrids are a normal sight in U.A, there is nothing in particular that sets any of them apart. Except you, a new hire from overseas. The day you arrived, Hizashi was forcing Shota to the library, he knew for a fact once Shoto laid his eyes on you he’d be hooked.

Boy was he right.

You were a vision of perfection from head to toe. You were sitting with your legs crossed with your tail flicking behind you. Your excitement made his hands sweat and his ears hot. Your jewelry intensifying your already obvious beauty. You were sitting with your legs crossed with your tail flicking behind you.

He especially loved your black pointed ears adorned with silver and gold. When you stood up to greet the two men, Shota could hardly keep from reaching out to stroke your ears.

Hizashi was being his usual bubbly self, asking you questions about your quirk and what you used to do before coming a teacher at U.A. but Shoto couldn’t even muster up the courage to say hello. He hid behind his scarf trying to contain his face from turning red. “SHOTA MY MAN! WHY ARE YOU SO QUIET?!” Hizashi had knew what effect this would have on his poor friend and he was loving every minute of it.

“Hello, Welcome to U.A. hopefully you can be a competent addition to our team” Shota has regretted that statement since that day he’s met you. He noticed the grimace spread across your face morph into a half smile. Sweetly you responded “Nice to meet you gentlemen but I should really get back to work.” Making your way through the two men, especially Shota couldn’t help but watch you tail swish behind you accentuating your curvy figure.

After that day Shota didn’t see you for a week he would find himself walking past your office everyday. It wasn’t until his interest was subsiding did he see you in his classroom — his whole body felt like it was on fire, his eyes scanned your whole body starting at his favorite part. Your ears. The way they flicked while you read the roaster for the class calling his students out one by one made the front of his pants tight.

The rest of your body is just as perfect from your silky brown skin to your coily hair framing your adorable round face. Everything about you is intoxicating and Shota wants a taste. He finally musters to walk in the class to be greeted by the students but most importantly you. “Good Morning Mr.Aizawa, Principle Nezu assigned me to the wrong class. I ended up being placed with Mr. Hiro but I couldn’t understand a word he was saying.” You ended your statement with a small giggle which made Shota fall for you harder. Why did you have to be so damn cute.

Shota didn’t realize how much silenced until your friendly demeanor turned into a reserved one. Quickly getting himself together he laughs sharply at your response causing you to jump, some of the students to puzzled looks and some to giggle. You laugh nervously stepping out of his way allowing him to walk past you and sit at his desk. For the remainder of the day you were practically glued by his side, your proximity made him squirm. He couldn’t even focus on his students because whenever he heard you laugh or instruct one of them his eyes were glued on you.

However, once the students went to lunch you brought a chair right next to his desk and proceeded to bring out two bento boxes. “I made too much this morning and brought two. “Don’t mind the dog shaped rice ball I thought I was going to be with Mr.Hiro today” opening the bento box Shota couldn’t help but laugh at the awkwardly shaped rice balls. “Heyyy! What’s funny? I worked really hard on those!”

He placed a hand on your thigh giving it a gentle squeeze attempting to reassure you.

“I assure you these rice balls are perfect just like you.” He took note of the way your ears flattened and your tail wrap around you. Removing his hand he grabs the chopsticks inside of the box picking up the rice ball giving you a soft smile. During the entire lunch hour you and Shota sat in silence except for the praises he would give you on the various items you packed in the lunch box.

The next few weeks went the same, you would bring a chair over to his desk and give him a bento box full of food. Except, you two started talking more and the more Shota learned about you, the more he wished you were his. He started to notice the way your ears would flick and your tail would swish in his presence but remain content with everyone else. He makes you nervous and he plans to use that to his advantage.

“Miss? Can I bother you for a moment” there’s no way in the world that Shota could bother you and you were trying your hardest to make sure you didn’t tell him that. “Yes Mr. Aizawa? What can I assist you with?” He didn’t say another word before taking out a medium velvet box and opening it to reveal a necklace adorned diamonds along the collar with a diamond bell shining on the end.

Your heart tightened seeing the gorgeous item “It’s beautiful, Whoever this is for is very lucky!” your heart twinges. You thought over the past couple of weeks you and him were getting close. He could see your ears hang low and your tail wrap around you. “It’s for you.” he said this without looking you in the eye grabbing the chain. Shota stand up and comes close to you, unlatching the clasp and instructs you to turn around.

Obeying his command you feel him lean over you to wrap the piece of jewelry around your neck clasping it. His smell is overpowering and his proximity makes you dizzy. His hands move from the back of your neck caressing your shoulders gently. Finally making their way to your arms placing you in a firm grip. A small yelp emerges from you which pleases Shota — he brings you closer now wrapping his toned arms around you. His breath on your neck flusters you and makes your skin hot.

Closing your eyes in anticipation you ears start to flick, not only at Shota and the compromising situation you’re in but you can now also hear someone coming down the hall. Frantic you whisper to him “Shota! Shota! I think someone is coming!” Attempting to wiggle out his grasp only for him to grip you harder. He plants soft kisses where the jewelry is shining on your neck — the adrenaline and his kisses are making you weak and lightheaded.

“Try to relax darling” the sultry tone in is voice sent shivers up up your body making your tail fluff up. His teeth graze the side of your neck making your eyes close in anticipation. You can feel his lips change shape and his tongue trail up and down your neck. Nibbling each time attempting to savor this moment. Once he heard the bell Shota put a considerable distance between you two.

Not even a minute later his star student is opening the door instructing everyone to sit down. It felt like eyes were on you as you tried to defluff your tail. The remainder of the day you kept your distance from Shota and this pissed him off. You excused yourself to the bathroom ten minutes after the kids got back from lunch and haven’t been seen since.

Shota even sent a handful of his students to retrieve you from the restroom but each one came back with the same results. “She’s not in there Mr.Aizawa” he was beyond confused. Shota kept an eye out for you all day only when the day ended is when he saw you. There you were standing in front of the window of the teachers lounge, ears down, twisting and turning the bell adorned on your neck.

The sunset reflecting off of you made you look angelic. Shota couldn’t help but admire the slight crease that appears on your forehead every time the bell jingles. He adored looking at you and even when you were doing nothing, you found a way to be breathtaking.

You can feel a hand on the small of your back causing you to turn around and once again you’re in a enclosed space with your coworker. His other hand caresses the side of your face, using his fingers to tilt your head up. “I apologize. I never want to be the cause of your agitation.”

Staring into each other eyes makes your furrow increase and your cheeks burn. It felt like you were under his spell as his tired eyes bore into yours. He makes you shrink while also making you feel seen. “ I accept your apology but don’t you think this is a little inappropriate?” without batting an eye he replied with a firm no.

“Shota I’m not entirely sure what you want from me.” He didn’t say anything just held you in place, slowly closing the distance between you two. Carelessly you let him do it closing your eyes, your mind was racing you could only focus on the way he pulled you in. “Will you let me take you out?”

Opening your eyes you could see a slight tint on his cheeks. Surprisingly, enough you weren’t the only one that is nervous. “I would be delighted to go out with you Shota.” Leaning over slight he places a kiss on your cheek finally giving you your space. “We’re leaving together Friday. Don’t worry about going home, you look good in everything.”

He left without another word leaving you alone with your thoughts again. For the remainder of the week you two continued on as normal. As normal as two coworkers who spend their lunch tucked away in a classroom playing footsies and eating the lunch you each prepared for one another.

Even due to unforeseen circumstances you two managed to keep your distance until Friday. You made yourself scarce that day, attending meetings with principal and going around to assist other instructors. It wasn’t until the final bell rang and the halls were empty is when Shota finally laid his eyes on you.

There you were standing next to that window —instead of seeing agitation across your face, he could see anxiety and excitement bubbling up inside you. Shota didn’t even think about changing but wish he had once he laid his eyes on you. His eyes trailing up you body starting at the slender black heels you have on.

When eyeing your legs he couldn’t help but notice how soft and supple they look, he fantasizes about laying on them, massaging, and being buried in between them. Your pencil black skirt stops at your mid thigh which you meticulously paired with a silky dark green blouse. You were holding your tail delicately running your fingers through it. Everything about you made his body hot and his dick twitch.

What he wouldn’t give to run his fingers your tail and knead your ears until you purr for him. Once he stepped into the lounge your ears perk up making your head his way. “Good evening Shota, sorry I wasn’t there to exchange lunch with you!”

“It’s fine kitten! Let’s go, we’re going to be late for our showing” putting a hand on the small of you back he leads you all the way to his car door. For weeks you gushed to Shota about your love for black and white films and drive-in movies. He distinctly remembered the films you talked about the most, how you always wanted have a date there but never had the times because of school.

That’s when he realized what he loved about you the most. Watching you talk about something you love is like watching the sun come up. You were so excited telling him about the variety of films they had and how you’d always end up knowing how it ends. The entire time he observed you and your mannerism — the way your pupils expand and your ears flick, the sight of your tail feverishly swinging behind you. That’s why he wanted to do this for you, to see you like that because of him, to see how much he yearns for you.

The car ride there felt like you two were in the classroom again. Instead of footsies, Shota kept his hand on your thigh the entire ride and always giving in a squeeze whenever you two stopped. It wasn’t until you two arrived at Musutafu Park. Shota found a secluded corner near the screen so you be unseen by others and still be able to see the movie. “Let’s move to the backseat.”

Being the practical man he is, Shota opens his door to get out until he felt leg bump into his arm. Turning to look at you he gets a eyeful of your butt and a smack to the face with your tail as you climb in the backseat. He didn’t hesitate to close his door back and climb to the back with you. Shota made sure to prepare everything almost a replication of how you described it.

He had place blockers in the back windows so no one can see you two, snacks for you and him, and blankets draping the backseat. You didn’t say anything at first just silently admiring his effort and that’s when you see it. Tucked into the backs of candy is a flyer for a black and white movie showing ‘The Fated Lovers’. Scooting close to him you while stating “This is so sweet Shota! It’s perfect and they’re playing my favorite movie!”

He wouldn’t tell you that he paid the teen at the ticket booth to play your favorite. Instinctively he wraps his arm around you closing the distance between you two. Throughout the movie you two shared laughs towards the film and as usual Shota is asking questions about you. He wants to know everything about you down to the last minuscule detail.

You two got so lost in each other that you didn’t realize what scene is playing until you hear the sound of a woman moan. Turning your attention to the screen watching the escapade unfold. You watch as the two people fight for dominance with their mouths while ripping off each others clothes.

Shota is watching you like a hawk — he’s watching the way your ears flick and go low, he notices how your rapid tail movement slows down, and lastly he could feel how hot your body is. Your body is so reactive and it’s making it harder not to bend you over the console and fuck you.

He didn’t want to impose on you more than he already has. The feeling of your warm hand travel up his thigh shocks Shota in place. You stop short at the base of his cock squeezing the most inner part of his thigh. He jumps on you after this — entrapping you under him you can feel his hand roaming all over, he places a kiss on your supple lips before lightly sucking the bottoms of your lip.

Shota wants your consent verbally and non verbally. He wants to hear you give yourself to him while your body shows how much you want him. His kisses makes you feel juvenile, Shota is gentle but passionate. You two fight for dominance with your tongues — sucking, biting, and licking one another in between kisses.

Shota sees you’re ears rapidly flicking and he took the opportunity to knead them. You purr under him immediately making the bulge in his pants stiffen. Removing his lips and hands from you — he sits up looking straight at you he says, “Am I allowed to have you?” and without another word you sit up with him taking off your shirt and skirt.

“I want to hear you say it doll, say that I can have you”

You’ve never felt so exposed and seen at the same time. He stares at you with low eyes, admiring every part of you. “You can have me Shota, all of me..” He gently laid you back hovering over you once more. His hands knead at your sides as he leans towards your neck. Kissing and sucking Shota leaves a trail of saliva down your neck to your cushy v-line.

He didn’t waste anytime putting his hands under your knees pushing your legs out and forward to give him a full view of your soaking cunt. “It’s beautiful love.” He didn’t hesitate to bring his face close and drag his tongue through your folds. Between his stubble and his eagerness to devour you everything about him makes your core throb with excitement.

His tongue is precise and slow, everything he does makes your clit throb. You can feel the rough pads of his fingers touch your lip. His eyes are looking up at you like he’s commanding you with his gaze. Opening your mouth his rough pads slide past your lips massaging his finger with your saliva. Removing his slick coated fingers from your mouth, Shota tease your hole before slowly sliding one finger inside then another.

Your hips buck and tail fluffs at the insertion — Shota is watching your body closely, sucking and fingering your cunt just the way you like. You didn’t know what to focus on. His fingers made your cunt tighten and your heat build up. “Shota, please- go faster” he hummed in response gradually picking up pace. His tongue became more calculated in its movement and his fingers curled and pumped feverishly.

Your tail snapped around his neck pushing his face closer. The soft feeling of your fur on his neck made him moan into your heat causing you to release on his face. You jump up pushing Shota back — he couldn’t get a word in when hurriedly release his cock from his pants freeing his erection. You stare in awe at his long shaft, taking note of the significant girth he has. You can hear him clear his throat looking up at him you see the blush across his face “Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?

“I didn’t count you as the shy type Mr.Aizawa, Do I make you nervous?” You smile make his dick jump, hell everything about you makes his mind, heart, and dick throb. He doesn’t even realize he’s saying something before “You’re perfect” falls put of his mouth. Your eyes light up and before he can say anything else, your mouth is on his tip, swirling your tongue around the angry mushroom. Pretty moans from the man bless your ears and making your cunt throb.

He could barely keep his eyes open as you envelope your tongue around his shaft. His voice is low and whiny “You’re-you’re doing so great” — you hum in response the vibrations makes Shota buck his hips up. For a moment you choke taking everything in at once. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I couldn’t-“ you hum in response refusing to come up for air.

Your speed picks up, you can feel his legs shake and saliva coat your chin. He could see your hand wipe your chin and grasp his scrotum. The sensation of you deepthroating and massaging his testis is overwhelming. You hear him whimper, plea, and moan out for you. “Please kitten~ don’t stop.”

You can feel his member throb before he releases in your mouth. You don’t hesitate to swallow his nut coming face to face with him “Want to know how you taste?” Nodding his head up and down you use your tail to bring him close kissing him passionately. “I like the way you taste Shota, can I taste more of you” your eyes are full of lust he nods in agreement.

You climb on top of him coming close to his collar. He feels your tongue slide along his collarbone and up his neck. Opening your mouth you bite the side of his neck making sure to break the top layer of skin. Shota winces at the pain feeling his body swelter. “You taste so sweet. Let me make you feel good” you line your cunt to his tip and slowly descend on dick. You were teasing him now, you would start with his tip, and slowly slid to the middle of his shaft and bounce.

Shota could only take so much, your cunt was warm and soaking — he wanted nothing more than to slam into you and fuck you until his dick is numb. This is true bliss. All it took was for you to slam down fully taking him in for Shota to launch forward.

He wraps his arms around you to keep you in place, he looks up at you and smiles. “You’re being naughty now. Let me take over” you can feel his hips move achingly slow, he wants to savor this moment with you. “Shota~ faster..please” he wants to remember the feeling of you, how you smell, how you cunt feels convulsing around his member.

When picking up the pace he can feel you tightening around him. Wrapping your legs around him you’re able to match his rhythm. Your forehead meet his then your lips. Only the muffled sounds of moans and whimpers can be heard from you both. You two are ravaging each other and the smell of sex heavy in the air. He can feel your long nails dig into his back and your legs tighten around him.

“Be a good kitten for me, don’t bit me too hard” you can feel his rough hands grip your tail and pull it. You bite his bottom lip in response squirting on his lap. This doesn’t slow his pace, Shota continues to bully your cunt, hitting that sweet spot over, and over, and over. “Shotaaa~ I can’t- I can’t-“ letting go of your tail he places his hand on your neck holding you in place while he fucks you. The sound of the bell on your neck pushes him further.

His eyes never leave yours, you can see his resolve crumbling and his release approaching. Your moans were stifled but loud. He groans as he releases inside of you still keeping you close and your neck in place. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be rough with you” he lets go of you noticing a large smile appear on your face. “I didn’t think you had it in you eraser head”

Even as you were getting dressed he is mesmerized. He could watch you all night and never get tired of you. “Aw we missed the movie.” even your pout is cute. He chuckles at your statement, putting his hand on your cheek he leans in and kisses you passionately. “I can bribe the kid at the front to play it again, just for us.” He didn’t even have to wait for your reply because your rapid tail movement said it all.

“Yes please!”

[paranoiddreams]

I beg you write for some Robert Sheehan characters 😔

Just for Her

⌗ Nathan Young x fem!reader

⌗ Warnings!! - Explicit language ofc!!!, fluff, slight angst, tension between Nathan and y/n because they’re stupid and whipped for each other, mentions of bullying, everyone treats Simon like shit still, jealousy, secret pinning, y/n is a Simon defender💅🏼, y/n’s power/ethnicity/features are not specified, 1 big cock joke 💪🏻, just general cuteness

⌗ WC!! - 1.94k

⌗ A/n!! - HI MY LOVE YES YES I AM WRITING SO MUCH RN I FEEL BAD FOR ALL THE SPEAK NO EVIL STUFF I HAVE STILL😭😭 but here’s something small for right now because I really need to get out of this weird writing funk I’m in. Sorry if the quality is shit, I’m on some new meds that are FUCKING with my head rn😀 at least I have these beautiful men (fictional and not) to keep me occupied 🤷🏻‍♀️ Speaking of, I have some stuff coming out for Mahito and Satoru soon as well, so don’t worry JJK babes, I will deliver soon🫡

Nathan couldn’t, more like wouldn’t, hold back his laughter as Simon stood before him, Curtis, Alisha, and Kelly, grunting and groaning as his face starts to turn red.

“He looks like he’s going to shit himself!” Nathan howled, keeling over in a fit of boisterous laughter.

“This is really impressive,” Alisha continued, her hand on her hip as she looked at Simon with an unimpressed expression. Curtis was snickering as well, while Kelly just frowned at the sight.

The door to the locker room swings open, the knob hitting the wall from the force of the last addition to the group enters.

“What are you guys doing? We have to paint some stupid fucking benches again!”

Everyone, including Simon, stop and look over at Y/n, who’s standing with her arms crossed over her chest next to the lockers. Her face falls as she looks around, spotting Simon who’s practically shaking in front of the group.

“Barry here was just showing us his A-list power!” Nathan chuckles, gesturing for her to come over. “Go on, Barry, show the girl!”

Simon looks back and forth between Nathan and y/n, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Y/n looks back at the jester of the group, his lips still twisted into a dumb smile.

“The fuck, Nathan?” Y/n groans. “Why are you all just laughing at him?!”

“He was standing there red as a tomato groaning,” he stops to pull a screwed up face, grunting as he impersonates the scene, “trying to show us how he turns invisible! And well, I hate to say it,” he puts his hand to the side of his lips to cover them, “but I don’t think it worked…”

Y/n rolls her eyes and walks over with a huff. “Curtis,” she asks flatly, turning her head to look up at him, “turn back time—now.”

He looks down at her confused. “What? Why? You know it doesn’t work like that!”

“Exactly!” She shouts, looking to the rest of the group. “I can’t control my power at will either, but none of you have denied it like you are with Simon!”

“I never said I believed you,” Alisha retorts.

Y/n turns her head to look at her with an annoyed huff. “Do you believe Curtis, then?”

She rests the hand on her hip at her side, her expression faltering slightly as she goes silent; she does, wholeheartedly at that.

“Right,” y/n says with a slight tilt of her head. She then turns to look back at Simon, who’s looking at her with the same wide-eyed stare he gives everyone. She then turns to look at Nathan, sending him a particularly harsh glare. “And you don’t even have a stupid power,” she sneers at him, her tone clearly fed up before she turns around, walking towards the locker room doors.

“Are you coming?!” Y/n shouts over her shoulder a few seconds later. The rest of the group reluctantly follow, Nathan looking a bit dejected—almost like a kicked puppy.

Once the group returned to the lake they were beside the day the storm happened, Curtis and Simon put the cans of white paint they were carrying down onto the seat of one of the benches. The fresh coat they’d only painted on a few weeks ago was already chipped and stained—partly from the massive clumps of hail that fell from the sky that fateful day, and partly from the ash of cigarettes smoked by the people passing by in the past few weeks.

“Well, this brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Nathan says with a deep sigh of sarcastic remembrance as he tails behind the group, his hands on his hips as he looks out upon the lake. “The day I met you lot,” he smiles, “the day you met the love of your life!”

Y/n looks back at Nathan, who’s looking at her with a cheeky smile while wiggling his eyebrows. She simply rolls her eyes before turning to help Kelly open a can of paint.

Nathan’s smirk falls slowly as he feels a sting of rejection in his chest; he was used to y/n snorting softly, or nudging him with her elbow, whenever he made a stupid joke or pass at her. But he could tell something was up, and he had a feeling it might have something to do with what happened in the locker rooms. Just maybe…

…It most definitely did. Y/n put her headphones on as soon as she started panting the bench Curtis was working on opposite of her, turning her music up all the way. She couldn’t help replaying the previous confrontation in her head as she slathered white paint onto the bench with a cheap brush. She just wanted to go home and sleep, maybe drink a few glasses of wine from her mom’s secret stash just to forget the 164 hours she has left at this place.

Although she knows she’ll most likely wake up tomorrow excited to ride along with the group as they complete various bothersome tasks; as crazy as it sounds, she’s grown close to the five of them, despite everything. Especially Nathan.

She hates to admit it, but that Irish prick has her in a chokehold. She finds herself thinking of him and his stupid jokes late at night, or when she’s getting ready in the mornings, a smile coming to her face. Usually on mornings like that, she tends to layer on her mascara just a little heavier.

But sometimes, she just can’t stand the guy; especially when he’s being a bigger dick than usual.

Ignoring her racing thoughts, brushing them off as her being a bit more irritated than usual today, y/n continues to paint the bench in front of her. She pretends she’s actually painting something meaningful, like the Mona Lisa, or her favorite piece, Saturn Devouring His Son.

But her train of thought is quickly cut off when the swelling music in her ears stops suddenly. “Hey!” She yelps, turning her head up to look at the culprit behind her.

“Whatcha’ listenin’ to?” Nathan asks with a smile as he pulls the headphones over his head, his curls falling over his face. Music pours through the padded speakers over his ears, and he starts plucking an air guitar as he dances to the song. But he quickly halts his antics when y/n shoots up from her crouched position behind the bench, yanking the headphones off of his head before darting towards the opposite direction.

“Where is she going?” Kelly turns to Nathan, brows furrowed as she glares up at him with a knowing look.

“Hell if I know!” He exclaims, dropping his hands at his sides. But before he can stop himself, Nathan feels his feet acting on instinct, trailing behind her. A few moments later, he sees her in the distance, jogging the rest of the way to her.

Y/n sits against a concrete pillar under the highway, holding a cigarette in her fingers as smoke pours from between her lips, floating above her head like a halo. She looks out over the lake, the water lapping and glittering in the sunshine.

At first when Nathan reaches her, she continues on as if he weren’t there, but then flinches to attention when he sits down next to her.

“Is my dancing that bad?” he asks when y/n pulls the muff of her headphones away from one of her ears. "Ran off like a scared deer."

She sighs softly, and takes them off completely. "And?"

"And you can't leave me with them!" Nathan exclaims in a lighthearted manner. "You know you're the only one I can barely tolerate."

Y/n exhales a soft huff of amusement, making his heart flutter softly, to which he ignores as usual.

"You were being a dick, you know?" y/n sighs. "You always are to Simon."

"Who?"

She cocks her head to look at him, a blank expression of annoyance on her face. Nathan cackles, putting his hands up in surrender.

"Alright! Alright! I was just playing with him," he defends.

"Yeah, well not everyone likes to play around like that."

"You do."

Y/n gives him a look again, and he backs off slightly. "Okay," he sighs. "I'll give the lad a proper apology...later..."

Once she analyzes his face and determines Nathan isn’t joking around completely this time, she smiles softly for the first time today, leaning her head back against the concrete pillar. Nathan mirrors her, his eyes focused on the slope of her nose as she looks out across the water--he can practically hear the cogs turning in her head.

"You can make people feel like shit sometimes," she continues after a few silent moments. Nathan pulls his eyes away from her Cupid's bow, back to her's. "I would know."

He feels a slight pang of...something in his chest. "I make you feel like shit?" He asks.

"No," she says, "not that. It's just...no offense...but I've known a few boys like you--well, not entirely like you. They didn't have..."

Nathan's smirk returns. "Good looks? Charm? A huge cock?"

Y/n giggles softly, nudging his shoulder with hers. "Shut up," she smiles, "I mean boys who cover their emotions with humor at the expense of others, they didn't have a joy for life like you, I guess. So when they'd make fun of people, it was impossible to tell the difference between jokes and insults. At first I thought you were one of those kinds of boys, and sometimes I forget you’re not."

Nathan nods softly, trying not to let his stupid jokes surface for once; because he knows she’s right. Humor is the immediate response he has to any emotion he feels. He's never thought about how it affects other's until now, despite the lectures from kids his age and adults alike over the years. What is it about y/n? He doesn't know; but he does keep listening.

"So just...try not to hide so much of yourself anymore," she sighs. “Be funny because you want to be. Not because you want to hurt someone else.”

A few moments of silence go by, only the sound of rushing water and the distant voices of the group reaching their ears.

"So...you were bullied by these guys?"

Y/n turns her head to look at Nathan. She simply nods her head and looks back at the water.

"Oh," he whispers.

She's never heard him so quiet, so speechless, before.

“I didn’t know.”

"I didn't tell you."

They sit there for a few more moments in silence, practically feeling the dragging of time going by before them. Nathan's eyes only wander back to y/n's supple cheeks when he makes the realization that, for the first time in his life, he has no jokes to tell. He isn't sliding past with an inappropriate innuendo, or breaking the silence with an offensive observation. He's just sitting in complete and udder silence with her.

"Maybe you could come with Simon and I to the pub tonight," he says after a few moments. "You know, so you can walk me through a proper apology."

Y/n turns her head, a soft smile appearing on her face. "Wow," she gasps.

"What? Want t' make it just the two of us?" Nathan asks with a cocky smirk. Y/n punches his shoulder, and for once, he relishes in the sting.

"No it's just...you called him Simon..."

Nathan's eyes widen slightly at her words, and he shakes his head softly, curls sticking up when he runs a hand through his hair.

"I--what do you mean? That's his name, isn't it?"

"Yeah," y/n laughs, "but none of us were really sure if you remembered that."

He clicks his tongue softly, cheeks going slightly red from being called out. "Yeah, yeah, I knew that. You lot really think lowly of me, huh?"

Her smile widens slightly, and she shakes her head softly. "No," she says, "At least I don't."

[rithalie-writes]

Batman on bedrest - a crack dcxdpxml idea

Okay so they really didn’t think this through.

“It’s the seventh time he’s snuck out!”

“We don’t need a count Grayson, what we need is to find him!”

You see, Batman was missing.

Not in action, may I add. No, he was missing in the most mundane way, as in “no one is sure where he is but definitely not where he should be” way. You see, Batman was hurt.

Badly enough hurt that the Justice League made a collective decision to put him on strict bed rest in the Justice League’s orbiting base medbay - with Clark and Diane as the loudest advocates for the decision. Nightwing and the rest of the Gotham troop were hot on their heels, with even Red Hood scared for the life of the broodiest member of the League. His youngest child was in his twenties already, Bruce Wayne was definitely past his prime! The problem was that Batman did not want to rest.

The seventh time he snuck out, Batfamily stopped pulling their punches. They called every possible family member to the Base, including the newest addition - Damian’s twin brother Danyal, and his ward Danielle, in hopes that the presence of youngest (possible to call) offspring, will finally make him stay in bed.

Which it did. For half an hour until the teenager fell asleep.

“You’re a ghost!” Whined Nightwing, flashing a flashlight into the vents, lifted up in the air by bashful Ellie, “how can you even fall asleep?!”

“The school has been hard lately, ok? I just closed my eyes for a minute!”

“Less talking, more searching!” Commandeered Robin, stalking the hall with levitating Phantom hot on his heels.

“This is utterly ridiculous” muttered Tim, sitting cross legged on the cafeteria table and clicking away at his tablet in search of Batman on the camera feed “he is practically a grandpa already, how can he hide so well?!”

“Wait!” Dick shouted so loud that Ellie let go of him on reflex, the man somehow landing on his feet with grace of an acrobat, “Grandpa! Tim you’re a genius!”

Tim blinked, surprised as Dick scrambled for his phone, dialing a number so fast he had to try again, “what did I say?”

“Batman is a grandparent!” Dick half-whispered, aware that not everyone on Justice League was aware of the news, “I’m calling Corr to see if she can get Ma’ri here!”

“Simply plucking a grandchild on him might do the trick” Damian nodded gravely, “especially if it’s a young one.”

“Either that or we call our sister. I bet she could scare him straight,” shrugged Danny.

For a moment everyone simply stared at Danyal. Then the chaos of words erupted.

“We could have done that two escapes ago?!”

“Why didn’t you remind us sooner?!”

“Oooh that would be so much easier than calling Corr from her off planet vacation, don’t make that eyes on me Dick, I know you miss her but for gods sake she deserves that free time.”

“It’s settled then?” Asked Damian, just as Superman came into the room, wandering what the screaming was about, “we call Amari as soon as we find him. I’ll text her to prepare for video call”

“Who’s Amari? And how can she help?” Clark wondered out loud but Danny just smiled. “You’ll see. You’ll see.”

They found Batman half an hour later, bent over some files in the remote corner of the warehouse compartment. They all but dragged him to medbay, with him grumbling all the way. “Karma, old man,” grinned Red Hood as he deposited Batman in his bed. “You have a call.”

“Is it fine for anyone to see Batman in such state?” Asked Wonder Woman, looking nervously at the literal mass of bandages that made the man look more like a mummy than man. “He’s not exactly presentable.”

“It’s fine, it’s family.” Summed up Tim, setting up the giant TV on the wall in front of the bed. Superman exchanged a surprised look with Wonder Woman, not expecting that answer.

Soon, the screen flickered to life, showing them all an unexpected figure. A young man in his twenties, with a shock of blond hair and a generic black mask over very, very green eyes. Wonder Woman straightened up at the sight, recognizing the figure in an instant, despite the lack of the usual outfit and the black cat ears.

“Chat noir?” She asked, surprised. She knew who the avatar of destruction was, of course. She never expected them to meet like that though.

The wry smile that the man sported wobbled a little at the sight of so many people, including Superman and Wonder Woman, surrounding the bed of a very disgruntled Batman.

“It’s not the best time for a call.” He whispered, looking over his shoulder at something or someone. Only now could the present people see that he was dressed in jumper and sweatpants, non-descriptive and clearly domestic. The jumper had wet spots on it, and something that looked suspiciously like food splatters on it. He was clearly not expecting a call.

“We need to talk to Amari” Damian was not asking, but commandeering and Chat Noir sent him a flat look. “It’s important.” He added after a moment.

“No, you don’t understand.” Chat noir run his hand through his blond hair, messing it up even more. It’s already looked like a rats nest and the movement did not help. “We just got Emma into bed. She’s been fussing all week, she’s sick. We haven’t slept in a week, I think.” He furrowed his brows, “or at least three days.”

“You could have called” pointed out Red Hood, surprising about everyone in the room except for Dick and maybe Bruce, “I would help.”

“Yeah, we appreciate that but the flat is in no room for guests - even family. Ma- Amari would kill me if I invited anyone over.”

“We need to talk to her.”

“Nope. No way - she’s napping.” Chat noir shook his head “kwami knows she needs that.”

“I don’t see why you need to bother Amari with the call right now” grumbled Batman, glaring at his youngest “I’m fine.”

The sound of collective eye roll must have reached even Chat because he snickered before Batman glared at him too. Then he coughed, “with all due respect, you don’t look fine, sir.”

“The chat noir, the literal avatar of the god of destruction is calling you sir?” wondered Superman, raising his brow. He did not miss Diane’s lessons “how did that happen.”

“It happens” grinned Nightwing and Phantom, as they spoke in unison, exchanging amused looks.

“Yeah, that happens when you knock up Batman’s daughter the day after she turns twenty.”

Chat noir grimaced, Superman coughed in surprise and even Wonder Woman’s eyes bulged a little. She knew that Batman had a biological child. She suspected it must have been Robin. But to hear it spoken so plainly? Was she wrong to assume Batman had a son?

“You make it sound so bad. We were engaged!” Whined Chat Noir, raising his voice a little. Batman glared at him, clearly reminded of the fact and not happy with it.

Something behind Chat Noir moved, and he jumped around so fast they lost a vision for a moment. A hushed conversation could be heard, after which the man quickly left the room and came back with another generic mask in hand, red this time. He gave it to the lump of blankets resting on the couch, and it rippled as someone clearly tried to detangle themselves from the nest.

The young woman was black-haired and blue-eyed and she glared at the congregation with the same tired force as Batman did after the meeting ran three hours too long. Wonder Woman felt a sudden need to go and pray to her patron for luck - and benevolence because if that was the Ladybug, the avatar of creation…

“I’m Amari. Where’s the fire?” She deadpanned, clearly tired and cranky. She slowly lifted herself up from the couch with Chat Noir’s help who seemed to fret over her more than usual. The reason was shown almost immediately.

Ladybug was very much pregnant.

“We need your help.” Damian went straight to the point, “Father here won’t let himself stay in bed and heal.”

Oh, so Batman had multiple children. Wonder Woman felt a little shaken - and apparently one of them was the avatar of creation. A being so powerful she could literally change the shape of the world as they knew it.

Wonderful.

“Oh really?” Amari - or Ladybug as she was called glared a little harder, one hand resting on her belly. “And I suppose he must stay in bed for his own good?”

“Yes, and he already sneaked out seven times!” Added Ellie cheerfully, “Hi aunt ‘mari! Hi Black Cat!”

So the king of the dead was Batman’s son too. Great.

A literal titan.

Winder Woman felt a little faint.

“Yes, hello darling,” crooned Ladybug, smiling for the first time in the call, “I see they called all the big guns to help already.”

“You’re pretty much the last resort here sis.” Shrugged Danny, “it’s either your intervention or straight up tying the man up and I suppose he’d have an answer to that in five minutes.”

“You assume correctly,” Batman shook his head at his kids’ antics “There’s no need for any intervention Ladybug, my injuries are superficial-“

“They’re soooo not,” stage-whispered Ellie.

“The old man almost keeled over” added Red Hood.

“Yes, thank you for the commentary,” snapped Batman, “But I’ll be fine in the day or two.”

“Oh I bet you will,” Ladybug nodded, smiling that serene smile that made shivers crawl up Superman’s smile. Is that what Batman’s smile looks like? “IF you stay in bed and rest.”

“Amari-“

“Do you want me to come?” She threatened, and Chat noir made a strangled sound and a violent gesture of ‘abort mission’ behind her back. “Do you really want your seven-months-pregnant-with-twins daughter travel to space to make sure my kids grandfather stays in bed so that he can live a little bit longer?”

“Because I will do it.” She said when no one spoke, “I love you dad, and I need you in good shape so that little Louis and Hugo may meet their grandpere in his full strength.”

“This is blackmail,” Batman shuffled in bed nervously, “this is emotional stand-off.”

“I’m pregnant, my kid is sick and I’ve been awake for the last 36 hours.” Ladybug’s smile grew a little tight, “my husband has not slept in three days and he’s been holding down the fort almost by himself for the last four months. I’m way past the ‘blackmail’ stage”

“I see.”

“I’ll send Jazz up?” Offered Danny, “Ellie can tag along too.”

“Maybe it is time for reinforcements,” muttered Chat Noir.

“We will talk about it,” Ladybug nodded, then focused all her attention on her father. She stood to the side, showing off just how big she’s gotten since they last saw her and the batfamily had the satisfaction to see Batman actually gulp nervously.

“So dad?” She asked, saccharingly sweet “will you stay in bed like the doctors asked or do you want me to come over there to make sure you do?”

Batman sighed, visibly deflating, “One day,” he tried to negotiate.

“Kitty, help me pack my bag-“

“Okay! I’ll stay!”

“Good. Love you dad.” Ladybug smiled honestly, if a little tired, “Wait with extreme maneuvers at least after you teach my kids how to multiply by seven, will you?”

“Can’t promise that,” Batman also smiled, a real smile, “but i will try.”

Ladybug nodded, satisfied.

“One more thing,” Batman glared at both Diane and Clark, daring them to say anything before he looked back it his daughter, “love you too.”

Ladybug send her dad a kiss as she disconnected the call.

The next day, Batman woke up to see the tiny, black-haired and green-eyed child crawling up into his bed. Emma Wayne-Agreste babbled at her grandfather happily as he hugged her with one working hand, noticing she’s still a little hot to the touch. He could see Adrien Agreste, in full superhero paraphernalia, waving at him from the door, with Nightwing dragging him out of the medbay and towards the communal room with coffee in hand. Later he would learn that Jazz and Ellie went to stay with Marinette while Adrien was officially invited to the Base with his kid, to give both young parents a chance to rest.

For now though, he let his granddaughter snuggle under the covers with him, letting her smack him with her plush bat in the process. Yeah, he was not getting out of that bed for a while it seemed.

It suddenly did not seem so bad.

[bradshawsbaby]

I just always think about Bob reading to your class and the kids living him and asking when he can come back

Oh my gosh, yes, the thought of Bob Floyd surrounded by a bunch of tiny faces looking up at him with rapt, awed attention is enough to make my ovaries burst. But, as a middle school teacher, I raise you that there’s no greater compliment than having cranky middle schoolers think you’re cool—especially if Bob was nervous to come visit them in the first place 🤭

“Guess who asked about you today,” you announce with a knowing smirk as you stroll into the kitchen, placing your lunch bag on the counter and dropping your reusable water bottle into the sink before making your way over to where your boyfriend is sitting at the kitchen island eating a sandwich, and placing a big kiss on his cheek. You notice, with a smile, that an identical sandwich is already sitting on a plate beside him, ready for you.

You love the days when Bob’s shift on base ends early and he gets home from work right around the same time you do. Judging by the fact that he’s already changed into a white t-shirt and an old pair of sweatpants, not to mention the late lunch he prepared, he’s been home for a while already.

Bob takes a moment to swallow a sandwich bite, his blue eyes thoughtful behind the large frames of his glasses as he considers. “Um, your mom?” he guesses with a sheepish grin.

You laugh at his response, mentally conceding that it is a fair one as you plop down onto the island stool beside him. He knows you always call your mom on your drive home from work.

“No, but good guess,” you tease, reaching out for a Gold Fish cracker and popping it into your mouth. You love this man for never making fun of your obsession with your favorite childhood snack.

“Hmmm,” Bob murmurs, scratching his chin as he considers. “Mrs. Johnson? I promise I’m going to mow her lawn this weekend,” he says quickly, referring to your elderly, widowed neighbor a couple houses down.

“No, not her either,” you tell him, shaking your head with a grin, your eyes sparkling as you take a bite of your sandwich.

“Okay, I give up,” he sighs dramatically, grinning as he rests one large, calloused hand on your upper thigh. “Who?”

“My kids!” you burst out gleefully, giggling behind your hand at Bob’s stunned expression. “They already want to know when you’re going to be back—not if, when.”

“Really?” Bob gapes. He couldn’t have looked more shocked if you had told him that the president had called to let him know he was being awarded the Navy Cross.

Earlier this week, you had finally managed to convince Bob to come give a talk to your 8th graders about what it’s like being a Navy pilot and working for TOPGUN. You were currently teaching your unit on World War II and the kids had been fascinated by a documentary you’d shown them about fighter pilots from the 40s. The fact that your boyfriend also had a great love of naval history, in addition to being a TOPGUN graduate himself, made him the perfect candidate to come talk to your class.

Bob had been extremely nervous about the whole thing. Middle school had been a terrible experience for him, and you’d quickly learned that though he could keep his composure when flying life-threatening military missions, he was terrified at the prospect of speaking in front of a bunch of prepubescent kids.

You hadn’t told your students Bob was your boyfriend, figuring it was good if they had one less thing to comment on when he came to visit.

“Of course, really,” you beam, running your fingers through his honey-colored hair as you lean in to nuzzle your nose against his. “Your talk was amazing. Trust me, I’ve never seen those kids so quiet and focused before in my life. I’m actually kind of jealous,” you laugh.

Bob stammers slightly in response, his cheeks turning red as he shoves his glasses back up his nose.

“Right at the start of my lesson today, they started asking, ‘When is the Navy dude with the glasses coming back? He was so cool!’” you continue with a wide grin.

“Wow. Definitely never imagined a middle schooler calling me cool,” he chuckles, running a hand through his hair shyly. You know that he hates having so much attention on him.

“Well you are,” you say softly, resting your hand over his. “You’re the coolest guy I know, Bob Floyd.”

Bob smiles widely, his blue eyes twinkling as he ducks his head to press a kiss to your lips. “Maybe I could arrange to have your class come visit us on North Island,” he murmurs softly, pecking the corner of your mouth with tender affection.

Bouncing up and down on your stool excitedly, you throw your arms around him and squeeze him tightly. “That would be amazing! See? Coolest guy around.”

[rebelelegance]

hiii<3 can u write angst abt tasm!peter parker x sick!reader where he’s basically so obsessed with gwen and tries to hang out with reader as often as he can but when he loses gwen in the fight he runs to your house for comfort but your mum opens the door to let him know that you passed away a week ago or something. i rlly need something to cry to🫶🏽

A Little Too Late

A/N: OKAY SO IM HELLA LATE TO THIS. And I made a few changes, but I hope you like it!

Pairing: TASM!Spiderman x bsf!reader, TASM!Spiderman x Gwen Stacy

w/c: 978 (it's a short one)

Warnings: ANGST, tw!death

Masterlist

Peter couldn’t feel his legs.

He’d had the worst week of his life and right now he just needed you to hug him.

He ran past your neighbor’s house, racing up the stairs to yours, not noticing the look that she was giving him.

He rang the doorbell, waiting to see your smile, and feel your arms around him. To finally have someone by his side who knew everything.

But you didn’t open the door.

“Peter?” It was your brother. And unlike his usual grinning, goofy self, he was red eyed and seemingly angry. His girlfriend walked up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

You’d hated almost everyone that James had dated, except Evie. But it’d been so long since he’d spoken to you, he wasn’t sure if that was still the case. “Where’s Y/N? I need to see her,” Peter huffed, peering inside the house over James’s shoulder.

“Oh,” James scoffed, “What? Your girl’s dead so now you worry about my baby sister?” 

“James,” Evie warned.

Peter felt his heart drop at the mention of Gwen, before it was replaced by rage. “How dare you!” he yelled, moving to step towards James, but was instead pushed back by the older boy.

“If you really wanna see her, go to the same place you see your girl nowadays,” and with that Peter was staring at the shut door.

To say Peter was confused was an understatement. Your brother had never been that rude to him. 

But what confused him more was that last sentence. He didn’t see Gwen anywhere nowadays. How could he? She was dead.

He turned around slowly, walking away as what James had just said swirled around his mind. It didn’t make sense. Were you at the graveyard to see Gwen too? But you weren’t that close to her. And anyways, the rest of what your brother had said didn’t add up.

Lost in his thoughts, he crossed the places that had defined both of your childhoods. The park where you’d met in 6th grade, Mrs. Parkinson’s house that you’d both toilet-papered in 8th grade, and last but not least, the local library.

You and Peter had spent so many days there after school puring over all sorts of books.

God, he missed those days.

He missed you.

He knew he hadn’t been the best, best friend lately but with everything going with Gwen, and the additional casualties of everything that was happening, he’d just been too busy.

It felt like you’d been absent from his life for ages. 

In fact it was almost like you were gone. Wiped off of the face of the earth.

And then it hit him.

And he ran.

It couldn’t be.

There multiple casualties after the whole thing with Electro, but not for a second had he thought-

He stood outside the graveyard, chest heaving, and anxiety building up inside of him.

He ran around, checking each and every gravestone in a frenzy, repeating the same word over and over again in a desperate attempt to pray for his intuition to be wrong.

Please.

And then he saw it.

In loving memory of Y/N Y/L/N.

Marked with the same day as Gwen’s stone.

“No no no no no, please.”

Peter’s legs gave out from beneath him and he crashed down, kneeling in front of your gravestone.

A sudden gust of wind made him aware of the cold tears on his face, streaming down faster than the pace at which he’d ran here.

He ran a shaky hand over your name engraved in stone, as if somehow that would make it easier to process.

It couldn’t be.

He’d seen you just before the fight. That was just a few days ago. You couldn’t have died. Not after he explicitly told you to go home. That couldn’t have been the last time he saw you for good.

He felt like his heart was actually breaking. He clutched your gravestone harder, tears soaking the rock. He prayed that this was a prank. That you would jump out from behind it. But the longer he stayed there, the more it sank. You were gone and you weren’t coming back.He’d lost you.

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

Among the chaos of everything around him Peter heard your voice from an alleyway, and immediately ran to you, worried that you were here. “Pete!” you yelled, flinging your hands around him. “Someone might hear you,” he yelled, wrapping his arms around you nonetheless. “I don’t think anyone is paying attention right now,” you laughed, pulling away. 

He could see the worry in your eyes, as usual, in spite of the smile on your face. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, changing the topic to the most important one right then. “I wanted to tell you to be careful. Do you need help with something?” you asked. 

He admired your bravery, and how you always wanted to help, despite not having any powers. 

“I’m good. You need to get home,” he ushered, glancing behind him as we watched the chaos increase. 

“Okay.” You replied, nodding. You never put up a fight when Peter told you to go home though. You trusted that he knew these things better, and could tell if a situation was bad.

“Hey,” you whispered, pulling him down so your foreheads touched, “you still owe me a pizza, so get back to me okay?” Peter always felt safe when he was like this with you. No matter what happened, as long as he was with you, he would be okay.

He laughed softly, “ ‘Course I will. Don’t worry too much,” he replied. You nodded once more before pulling away.

“Now go save the day Spidey,” you grinned.

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

Peter found himself leaning his forehead against your gravestone now, hoping that he’d feel that familiar safety again. Even if just for a moment.

[moonselune]

Scratch me up!

My inbox ate the ask :(

Here are some of the BG3 boys reacting to the marks they left on your back from your prior night of passion

Raphael:

You stand in front of the mirror, inspecting the fresh, deep red scratches running down your back. Serving as a testament to the previous night's passionate encounter with Raphael, you were glad that only your back was visibly injured. He emerges from behind, his presence as overwhelming as always, and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.A smirk plays on his lips as he catches sight of the marks he's left.

"My my, look at that," he murmurs, his voice dripping with pride and possessiveness, as he kisses up your neck. "Such beautiful marks, don't you think?"

You shiver as his fingers trace the scratches, each touch sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. "Raphael, they're quite… noticeable," you say, trying to sound nonchalant despite the blush creeping up your cheeks.

He chuckles, the sound deep and resonant. "And they should be. They are a sign of my claim on you, a reminder of the pleasure we shared. I quite like the way they look on you, a canvas of our love." His hands roam lower, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Perhaps we should add a few more.."

There was no question in his words, and you knew him well enough to know that really it was an assurance. It made your pulse quicken and you leaned into his touch, allowing him to ravish you once more.

Rolan:

Rolan notices the scratches on your back as you get dressed, the morning light filtering into the room and casting a soft glow over your skin. He approaches you, a mix of concern and amusement in his eyes.

"Those look… intense," he says, lightly touching the marks. His tone is apologetic, but there's a glint in his eye that suggests he's not entirely remorseful. "I'm sorry if I got a bit carried away."

You turn to face him, a wry smile on your lips as you cross your arms. "You don’t sound very sorry, Rolan."

"Oh how dare you, accuse me of such a- okay you got me," He quickly gives up his mock offence, a playful grin spreading across his face. You pout and start to walk away from him, but he quickly wraps his tail around your ankle and yanks you back, you tumble back into his arms and look up at him with a light scowl.

"I have to admit, that maybe I am not sorry and maybe it is because I like seeing those marks on you," he pulls you in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he rests his head on your shoulder, "I think they suit you."

You roll your eyes but before you could retort with a witty remark, Rolan occupied your lips with his, and his tail began to curl up your thigh and you warmed, smiling into the kiss. It seemed that Rolan was planning to make some additions to your scratched up back.

Wyll:

Wyll's eyes widen when he sees the scratches on your back as you stretch, the morning sun highlighting every mark. Concern etches his features, and he immediately approaches you, his hands gently brushing over the reddened lines.

"Did I do this?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine worry. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

You turn to him, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes and let out a light laugh. "It's okay, Wyll. It happened in the heat of the moment. It didn't hurt, not really."

He sighs, still looking troubled. "I never want to hurt you, even unintentionally." His fingers continue to trace the marks, a mix of regret and fascination in his touch. You can tell he has something else to say but he's afraid to say it, afraid to admit to it.

"Come on, beloved, use your words.." You lightly teased as you leaned back towards him. Wyll pouted slightly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"But… I have to admit, they look… kind of good on you."

"You little freak!" You turn and point your finger at him in accusation and Wyll flinches, raising his hands in surrender.

"Hey! I-"

"-I jest my love, I think they look good too." You teased, gathering his hands in yours and leaning towards him, peppering his face with a bout of kisses. A blush forms across his cheeks but he allows your apologetic assault.

"You are cruel, sometimes you know that don't you?" Wyll sighed, with an exasperated smile on his lips. You kiss him again, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"I know you, but you love me."

"Unfortunately."

"Hey!"

I love love love writing these, hope y'all enjoyed it ! - Seluney xx

[bunnybunbun0]

Our love is god|Homelander x Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence (though i could easily classify this as yandere homelander,but again,its homelander,we know how pookie is), reader gets SAd (booty slap and unfortunate comments),murder,they kiss in a sweet way,ididots in love,reader sort of let herself be tainted to be like homelander.

Summary: On the thrill of your new dream job,being closer and closer to homelander himself was not on your mind. Sooner rather than later you realize that for him this isn't just about attraction. Maybe you realized it too late.

A/N: English is not my first language so be kind! reader is coursing pharmacy in this because thats what im coursing and us pill making girlies dont get the attention we deserve. also this is being typed from the computer lab im supposed to be doing my capstone project in. Im too much of a theater kid to let the chance of writing this slide.

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

That wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't how it started and it was definetely not what you expected to happen after your last talk.

Let's get it from the begining shall we?

After being accepted into your dream pharmacy college, getting an internship at Vought labs was the best news of your life. You didn't even cared about looking like a rookie, putting on your best pair of pants, slicking your hair back on a neatly perfect bun,and even cracking up your brand new lab coat your mother gifted you,your full name beautifully embroided on the breast pocket.

Your stomach burned with cold waves of nervousness on the walk through the sterile white halls that connected the lab with the rest of the building. Ashley, the CEO who gave you the tour,walked fast, making it hard to keep up the pace,that was until a strong earth breaking call of her name stopped her dead on her tracks.

From the corner of the long hall, a red white and blue shadow struted to the tall woman next to you like a raging bull, angered by something you couldn't quite comprehend,since all the words coming from his mouth,fell silent on your ears. Now, you weren't the type to swoon over blonde muscular super heroes, but seeing THE Homelander in person standing in all his glory in front of you was a complete different experience.

The sparkle in his cerulean blue eyes was much more shinier, his hair was flawless even in its messy hairdo, the tight material of his suit making his already toned chest and thighs the much more visible. You only snapped out of your haze when you realized he was also staring at you.

"Well? You're not gonna introduce us?" he asked Ashley, now in a polite tone, hands neatly crossed in his back,never taking his analizyng gaze off of you.

"The new intern?" She asked with surprised confusion, his sudden interest in someone other than himself being foreign to her.

"A new addition to the ever growing family huh? Welcome sweetheart! I'm sure i don't need presentations,and your name is?"

Being Homelander's new sweetheart protegee was not in your bingo of things you'd face on this internship,however,being the only female in the lab crew was expected as it has happened a lot more than you'd like. Only this time it was far worse than the last few.

You were used to being treated like a small little thing who couldnt lift heavy boxes of chemicals,or the constant help offer when dealing with machinery,what you hated the most was definetely having all your calculus double checked or being treated like a human dishwasher when it came to the time of cleaning up beckers and tube tests. but this time they have gone way too far.

It was Kurt. Always fucking kurt. He noticed you from day one,plaguing you with suggestive jokes,whistles,and not so subtle glances at your behind when you bend over to check on something.

You could relevate it,turning a blind eye to that,thinking only about the stable payment,and how bright your curriculum will be with Vought labs experience in it. But having your behind smacked because "Sorry sweetheart! Couldnt help having a feel with such a juicy peach around all day,it was bound to happen sometime huh?" as Kurt laughed and so did his equally idiotic mates,that was where you drew the line!

After the initial pang of shock dissipated all you managed to do was excuse yourself and sprint out of the lab,followed by the laughter and whistles mocking her reaction,still in gloves and a hair net,running up the halls to the breakroom;she shut the door tightly leaning on it sighing her frustrations out.

"Hey" the overly enthusiastic salute from the blonde snapped her back to the present moment "you look different,did something new to your hair?" he asked with a grin,messing with her about the safety gear still on.

"very funny!" you retorted ironically,the sound of latex gloves being snapped off filling the room as she slumped on the couch "what are you doing here anyways?" she asked.

"I was waiting for you." you blood ran cold.

Your feeling for him have been on a constant growing tanget;his daily good mornings,good afternoons and good evenings,always accompained of an overpriced coffe or a sweet treat,the way he'd walk you from the parking lot to the lab each morning,and from the lab to the parking lot after your every shift.

"what for?"

"we need to talk; I need to talk to you..." oh god it's happening,it's really,truly,undeniably happening right in front of your own two eyes.

"right...what is it you need?" you kept your voice steady besides the shaking on your leg.

"I...youre a very different person...from anyone ive ever met..." confusion took your features,were you being called weird again? He was quick in reassuring you, realizing you were getting the wrong idea.

"i mean it in the sense that you make me feel different...more..weak...pathetic..." "soft" you mirrored the voice coming from him.

To say you were surprised would be the understatement of the century. Nerdy girls like you don't have their feelings reciprocated so often,specially not by muscular prince like super heroes,it felt like something was cosmically out of place,your ever so rational brain would have detect something was fishy,had your horrible day not clouded your mind leaving you desperate for a hero.

"wow i...i never expected to hear something like this...specially from you...i thought...i thought i was delusional for catching feelings so easily" you chuckled shyly avoiding his gaze from your blossoming cheeks.

the blonde man's ears perked up at hearing your mention of feelings,that was all he needed to hear to ignore the trivial worries about feeling too much "human emotions",all he cared about was that you felt it too,and now he had a green light.

he grabbed your chin with a gentleness foreign to him,lifting up your head so you could look him in the eyes,the few seconds you spent looking at each otheer felt like hours,until the thin glass wall broke and he sealed both your lips. the kiss was slow,love and adoration dripping from the way he touched you, thumb circling your hips on a sweet caress.

okay, that kiss was definetely not on your bingo, but that doesnt mean you didnt liked it. teh two of you felt closed off in a small world that only fit you two eye to eye, two smiling idiots who took to long to kiss and had no idea on what to say to each other.

"yknow being here with you like this...it makes me nearly forget the crappy day i had today" you say in a low dreamly voice,that shiny glint in your eyes.

but johns smile faltered for a moment. he was not happy at all to hear you had a bad day, in his eyes, his perfect angel deserved nothing but absolutely perfect days 24/7, even if he had to make sure of it himself.

"what do you mean crappy day? what happened? are you okay?" he pulled away from you slowly to look you up and down to make sure you didnt have any injuries or any visible issue.

at his concerned look, you knew you fucked up. its not that he was a bad person,really, but when people he loved seemed to be in tough situations he tends to...take things a bit too far...maybe way too far sometimes.

"im okay dont worry,its just...being the only girl in a lab full of men can be more challenging than i thought" the ache in your heart didnt allow you to lie to him about what truly occured.

"what have those fucking nerds done to you?! i swear baby theyre just jealous of how much brighter you are that they could ever be!" he holds your face with both his hands; its impressive how fast his mood soured and how passionate he could be about defending you, yet none of this could let you not sense the hidden compliment in his words.

he found you smart. a man. *the* man. he found you smarter than any other scientist on the lab; smarter than any other *men* in the lab.

"you...you really think im that smart?" you asked softly, feeling truly appreciated since the first day of this god forsaken job. his eyes softened once again as he stroked your cheek with his thumb.

"i think youre the smartest girl in the whole wide world...and i think those idiots deserve to be punished..." both his voice and eyes darkened at the mention of it.

"what do you mean? youre gonna fire them?" concerned laced your voice,although you loved the thought of those disgusting pervs getting what they deseve, you cant help but worry about their oblivious wives and children at home relying on their monthly paycheck.

"we could make them think i will" he said with a malicious grin "if i give them a talking to stern enough im sure theyll never dare say a word to you anymore" he inched closer to you,rubbing your cheek once more with pure adoration in his ways "they made you cry...but that will end tonight"

when you re-entered the lab saying all the lab staff had been called up to the roof of the building,you felt like playing a high school again after all these years. like an evil prom queen being mean to the nerds on the science club.

on the elevator ride tall figures with lab coats still gribbed devilishy while looking at you, as if sensing the humiliation radiating from your body,the only thought conforting you for being in a situation like this was the thought of homelander being upstairs to defend you.

like a damsel in distress you kept your head down the whole elevator way up,sighing audibly in relief when the doors slide open to reveal the roof and of course the man you were craving to see standing there,on his back,imposing as ever with the american flag swaying on his big broad shoulders.

he turned around at the sound of your arrivals, smiling fakely like all the tv presentations hes ever done.

"ah! just the people i wanted to see! the big brains in the building huh? hows my favorite lab rats doing?" he asks moving theatrically,patting the back of the very confused men that looked around trying to understand what the hell was going on.

"so, it has come to my attention this lovely lady right here" he stood tall behind you rubbing your shoulders,his imponent presence nearly engulfing you whole "has been having a hard time when it comes to peacefully doing her job while sharing a lab with you" his fake smile not stopping the sense of an over laying threat behind those words.

kurt was yet again the first one to retaliate.

"shes having a hard time?" kurt scoffed "think about trying to focus on dammed pills while shes in there with us,am i right?" he trid to evoke a commotion amongst his peers,not as succeful as it was in the lab now that it was common knowledge that the homelander himself was not on board with you being picked on.

"i beg you pardon?" asked john,voice a bit more menacing now that he had a suspicion of what was really going on.

"hey,i get it man,man to man,ill lay off" kurt really didnt knew when to shut his big mouth did he? "lucky you to that all that for yourself" he motioned his hands in your reaction, referring to your body as if it was a product to be auctioned off. "i mean,id be mad too, if i founbd out someone took a feel of my girl's peach yknow?" she said with a low ironic chuckle.

okay,maybe it was your fault,maybe you should have been more direct as to what happened earlier,maybe you should have taken it to maeve or even ashley instead of him,or maybe you shouldnt even have mentioned anything to the blonde,but now it was too late for any of that.

you could feel his chest get tougher behind you as he inhaled sharply trying and failing to control his anger towards the imprudent man; next thing you could feel was a warm feeling by your right year,as if the sun had changed positions just to warm you up,turns out it was john,seconds before turning kurts head into a pile of blood and brain mush.

guts spilled evrywhere,and besides the yelling all around and the fact you could feel a piece of someones previous cerebellum stuck to your cheek,you felt frozen,as john chased the remaining of the scientists likie a mad man.

chris and brandon were now nothing but bodies on the roof,one propped up on tha wall gurgling on his own blood as lots of it were draining from the whole on his throat,as the other had his neck bent in such an inhuman way he passed with eyes wide open.

enraged and with glowing red eyes the supe approached trent, the last man alive as he crawled pathetically on the floor covered on his peers blood and guts, while his own wounds left him on the break of death.

"I DONT UNDERSTAND!" trent screamed,seeing as the number one role model americas hero just brutally murdered threee people in front of him because of some woman.

"we can start and finish wars,so dont go around starting what you cant finish" he got dangerously more close to the frightened dying man that "you see" he continued,surprisingly calm for someone commiting horrid acts "the dinosaurs choked on the dust,they died because god said they must...and so will you

"WHAT DOES THAT EVEN ME-" trent didnt have a moment to finish his sentence a red laser bean crossed his heart apart.

it took moments of silence for you to register the whole thing was over,that everyone you worked with tha past few months were now dead,and that the man you le was the responsible one for all of that.

a horrid and late scream of fear and anguish left your throat caughting johns attention, he approached you in a much calmer way he had the men before crading you in his arms as you shook in confusion.

"WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE?!"

Following the sound of your horrified voice he peulled to look at you,bloodstained hands caressing your cheeks.

"I worship you" he muttered with as much sincerety in his heart as he could have "i'd trade my life for yours. And now that they disappeared,we can raise our new lifes here. i can make it so that youre the new head of the labs,would you like tha,huh? my smart girl,the head of vought labs,doesnt that sound beautiful?"

It did sound beautiful,your name ,as the head of the biggest pharmaceutical industry in the country,maybe of the whole world, and the men that tormented you everyday would never do it again, to you or anyone else. Aand youd do all that with the man you loved the most by your side everyday.

The entirety of the situation wasnt feeling as bad anymore, the red on your clothes being nothing but a sticky,crinsom act of love.

"Honey don't you see it? with your brains and my strenght, we can do anything we desire,we'll build the world again! Honey..." he looked so deep in your eyes it got you dizzy for a while "our love is God"

Yeah that was it. Im on that phase of my life where i hate everything i write but at the same time i wanna try so eeehhh, thank you for reading it! i was proofreading it but got lazy midway so sorry for any mistakes!

[oph3liatlou]

— BLOODSHOT EYES

pairing(s); soft!gregory house x exhausted!female reader

warnings; mentions of death, drug usage/mentions (vicodin),

word count; 1,032 words.

proofread?; not really :,)

note from author; he makes me giggle (he is me).

summary; you stay late in the office - sleep deprived.

Seated in the dimly lit office at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, you were a relatively new addition to Dr. House's team, having been around for about two years. Your proficiency in your role was evident, whether assisting on various cases or independently solving medical mysteries.

Early evening cast a subdued ambiance when the door swung open, and in walked Dr. House.

"You still here?" he queried, his characteristic tone not betraying any surprise.

You didn't look up at him, when he spoke to you. There were books covering the large table in the middle of the room - and your head was buried in your computer. You just grunted in response to him - not really acknowledging he was even there.

House approached, limping dramatically and leaning heavily on his cane. A bit of a smirk played at his lips as he surveyed the scene.

"What's got you buried in your computer on a Friday night?" he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

You were clearly reading. "The case we're working on…" I grumbled. House had sent everyone home, seeing as they were all tired anyways and needed sleep. But you were relentless.

"Is not going anywhere." He stated matter-of-factly and with a hint of fatigue in his voice. It wasn't lost on him that you were burning the midnight oil - again. Your work ethic was admirable, albeit slightly unhealthy.

You rolled your eyes. "That's very reassuring." You paused, now turning your eyes away from the computer and burning into a book. "We can't just let her die."

"Of course not," his voice was sarcastic, but he was being genuine - which was odd in itself. "But we aren't going to figure it out tonight, and no one works best when they're sleep deprived."

That hadn't stopped him in the past.

"I'm not tired." You rebutaled quickly, shifting in your seat as your fingers trailed on the book pages. You were starting to go crossed eyed from reading so much.

"You sure?" His voice was laced with the same sarcasm, although there was a hint of concern, maybe - though it was difficult to decipher. House had a tendency to mask his emotions, especially when it came to caring for his team, a vulnerability he often preferred to disguise.

He took a seat opposite you, his gaze briefly landing on the stack of books.

"I'm fine." You retorted.

"You're clearly not," his tone was blunt, not caring in the slightest whether or not you were offended by what he said. "You've been here 26 hours without a break. You're exhausted and therefore inefficient - go home."

House's expression turned sour as your comment about Vicodin slipped through your lips. He glared at you, his face dark with disapproval.

"My drug use isn't the same as you being sleep-deprived on the job."

This was the first time you looked at him since he had come into the office. "You're right - your drug use is worse."

"Don't even start," his words were sharp and biting. "Don't compare yourself to me. Your health is far more important."

He shifted his weight awkwardly, the pain in his leg causing him to grimace. It was clear he needed rest too.

"You're not even arguing back, you really are tired." He rolled his eyes in a somewhat caring manner, not in annoyance.

"Go. To. Bed."

"Not until I figure this out."

House was silent, his gaze heavy on you as he leaned on his cane. He seemed to be considering your words, but ultimately, his expression was unreadable.

He shifted his weight, a grimace passing across his face as he put more pressure on his injured leg. "You do what you want," he said finally, his tone neutral. The words hung in the air between you, each of you knowing that the other had a valid perspective.

With a slight nod, House turned and limped towards the chair in the office.

You glanced over at him for a moment. "Why are you staying?" You knew he was just going to sit there and nap - instead of being useful.

"Don't you want me here?" His voice was soft but teasing. House had a habit of pushing people's buttons - and he seemed to take pleasure in it.

"Besides - I'm your boss. I can't leave you all alone in my office." He gave a half-grin as he spoke, his eyes still closed.

You tried to roll your eyes at him but, you were so sleep deprived that you could barely even blink. Your eyes also hurt from squinting at the computer screen and burying your head in the books.

"Scared I'll find your secret Vicodin stash?" You questioned quietly before glancing over. "You hide it in the empty flower vase on the shelf, behind your desk."

House's eyes snapped open when you mentioned the hidden Vicodin stash. How the hell did you know where he kept it?

"You're a smartass." He growled, pushing off from the couch to sit up, now wide awake.

That was when he stood up - limping back over to the table you were sitting at and closing your laptop silently. You looked up at him, your eyes bloodshot.

He leaned down towards you, making sure you were looking at him. His voice was serious, but not angry or frustrated, just...concerned.

"Go home. Now. I will see you tomorrow." he spoke, his tone not leaving room for arguments, before turning and walking to the door "And don't try to argue." he added, though you could hear a slight chuckle escape him. He had a soft spot for you, you knew it - and he didn't try to hide it.

"They will still be here tomorrow." He started grabbing all the books you had laid out, closing them. "Now, go, before I call Wilson to carry you out of here like a baby."

You smiled a tired smile. "Wilson doesn't scare me." But regardless, you stood and grabbed your bag.

"Good, you listen to me. For once." He grinned, and though it wasn't mean-spirited, there was a hint of a taunt to it. He led you to the door.

"Now get some sleep. You look like death."

[valkyyriia]

Interruptions

Words: 744 CW: Semi-Public Sex, Cunnilingus Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Female-Bodied Reader Notes: I wrote this fic last year and posted it on Ao3 during the Hogwarts Legacy craze around when the game came out. I just never posted it here.

It's currently on Ao3 here. The work is orphaned for a few reasons I'd rather not explain in a note, but I'd be happy to answer if asked.

I know most of you follow me for otome (specifically Ikeseries) content, so I'll be forgoing my usual taglist.

You were on a desk in a classroom, legs spread wide, underwear around one of your ankles and skirt hitched up to your waist. Ominis was seated between your legs, his face between your thighs, tongue lapping at the wetness between them. One of your hands was threaded through his hair, pushing him closer to your center. 

A barely stifled cry escaped your lips as he licked a long stripe up your folds, paying extra attention to the nub at the top. You could feel a pressure rising in your abdomen with every flick of his tongue.

"Ominis," you moaned. "Fuck, love." 

Vibrations rumbled against your core as Ominis chuckled. He pulled away slightly and smirked, licking his lips. 

"You'd best watch your language, darling, if you want more where that came from." 

You whined at the loss of his touch and tried to urge him to resume, but he seemed perfectly content to wait. He was tantalizingly close to your warm heat; close enough that you could feel his soft breaths ghost over the moistened flesh. It was driving you utterly mad. 

"Tell me you'll behave, love, and I'll give you what you want." He blew a puff of air at your lower lips and the sensation made a shiver run up your spine. 

"I'll behave. I promise," you whined, aching for contact. Ominis waited one more torturous moment before burying his face against your cunt with even more fervor than before. He added his hands to the mix this time, pressing a long finger into your core.

He was eating you out like a man starved, like he hadn't eaten in a week and you were the best meal he could have ever asked for. 

You moved your free hand to your mouth, trying to hold in the obscenities that were fighting to escape your lips. It was torture. Your legs were shaking from the sheer ecstasy he was giving you. 

He added a second finger and curled them just right and you saw stars. You came with a cry, pleasure rolling down your form in waves. Ominis focused his attention on your clit, sending additional shockwaves rolling through you. 

The door opened. 

"Oh, there you guys are. Where have you -" 

Ominis froze. You looked up in shock, still riding out the end of your orgasm, eyes half lidded. 

Sebastian Sallow stood in the now open doorway, eyes wide and trained on the sight before him. He was speechless. He made eye contact with you and blushed a bright red, averting his eyes. 

Ominis, the bastard, gave one final flick against your clit, sending a shudder of overstimulation up your body, before pulling away from you entirely. 

"Did you need something, Sebastian? Or are you just going to continue to stand there and stare like a pervert?" Ominis crossed his arms and stared at the other boy. It was clearly intended to be intimidating, but it was hard to be imposing when his clothes were rumpled, hair in disarray, face shiny with your slick. The other boy got the hint, though.

"It's.. nothing that can't wait. I'll see you later. When you're both... fully dressed." He quickly ran out the door, slamming it behind him. Ominis turned back to you, running a hand through his messy blond hair. Your cheeks were crimson with mortification. 

"At least it was Sebastian," you tried to lighten the mood. "It could have been Garreth."

You reached down and pulled your panties back up, moving to get off the desk. Your legs felt like jelly and you stumbled, Ominis catching you and steadying you. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips, hands holding you upright. Your own came to rest on his chest.

"The entire school would know by breakfast if it were Garreth," Ominis muttered. "But once Sebastian gets over it, you know he's going to be relentless with his teasing." 

Ominis' hands trailed down your form, smoothing down your rumpled skirt. Your own took his tie, straightening it and laying it down flat. Your fingers ran through his hair, trying to smooth it back into place. 

"I hate that we were interrupted, though," you said as you moved to your robes on unsteady legs. "You didn't even get to have your own pleasure." 

"Don't worry about that, darling. There's plenty of time for that later," he murmured against your lips. 

You were sure to make it up to him later that night. 

Taglist: @natimiles