#POV: you meet PL for the first time

[burstfoot]

the original

[rapilne]

-Ice Cold

beomgyu x fem!reader

warnings: sub!beomgyu, sex (?) this contains smut, not proofread, MDNI, beomgyu pov-ish

a/n: no summary cause i couldn't tell you what this is about. this is my first time writing anything like this, i wrote it on my notes so im not sure how many words there are, i think too many, this is without a doubt too long, pls bear with me. also english is not my first language, if something doesn't make sense well idk figure it out pretty pls, thankssss 🫶

--

"she's my girlfriend," beomgyu said, his expression a mask of utter sincerity.

his words hung in the air, the silence filled with unspoken questions. 

yeonjun squinted at him, scrutinizing his face before glancing at taehyun then back at him. "so, you're saying… you have like a crush on her?"

an exasperated sigh escaped beomgyu. “what? no!" he protested "i mean, yes? wait no..” he closed his eyes and said slowly “… it’s like i said it. she’s my girlfriend for real.”

the weight of his words hanged heavily, yet his friends remained speechless, drinks on their hands and stares like daggers. 

beomgyu shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do to stop them from looking at him like that.

"i just don't understand what's so surprising about it," he muttered, a pout forming on his lips.

—

choi beomgyu had always been the epitome of charisma. from his looks to his charm, whether he stepped into a crowded room or sauntered down a bustling street, all eyes gravitated toward him, and once you got an interaction, you will just want him to sty forever.

he was well-known and well-liked everywhere he went: university corridors, his guitar lessons, basketball practice, even the corner store near his apartment. everyone seemed to gravitate toward him, drawn in by his undeniable charm.

he likes to think he got that from his mother.

beomgyu, reveling in the spotlight, thrived on the attention. the way people's faces lit up upon his arrival was a drug he couldn't resist. 

specially when he is so used to getting his way. always obtaining whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it, never in a malicious or manipulative way, he was bold, confident, overly friendly and people loved him. asking was usually all it took.

so, all things considered, he'd never struggled to draw the attention of those he found attractive. one could almost say he had his pick of the litter.

he thinks it might be true. 

that is the reason why setting his sights on you should be the most foolish thing beomgyu has ever done in his entire existence. and yet, there he was, unable to resist the pull, despite the warning bells ringing in the depths of his mind.

from the first time he met you, in his advanced music business class, it was as though you existed in a world entirely apart from his own. not responding to any of his advances was an odd sight for him.

initially, he brushed it off, attributing it to a fleeting lapse or perhaps an uncharacteristic bad mood on your part. after all, he reasoned, he was an attention seeker, but he certainly wasn't a psychopath.

yet, after you acted the same way the next time, and the next, and the next time he tried to talk to you, he couldn’t help but take it personally. 

he soon realized it wasn't merely a matter of wounded ego. from the very first meeting, he had mustered his most charming smile just for you. after all, he thought you might just be the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life. and after just a few classes, he realized you were also one of the smartest people he knew. 

it’s been a long while, but everything about you seemed to snag his attention, like you were the main character in a movie and he couldn't take his eyes off the screen.

so, whyy you, out of everyone, had to be the one to him the cold shoulder like that? or even better, why couldn’t he just like someone who liked him back?

he soon came to find out, thanks to his seat mate, jun, that your behavior was not uncommon.

he couldn't shake off the words his friend had offered in consolation: "don't sweat it, she's like that with pretty much everyone."

of course, in true beomgyu fashion, he couldn't help but sweat it. 

he did pick up on your vibe—not shy at all, like he thought at first, but definitely serious and reserved— still, he wasn't accustomed to blending in with the crowd like that; being treated like “pretty much everyone” didn't sit right with him. 

"it's all so high school," jun chuckled then, shaking his head. "but seriously, they actually nicknamed her the ice queen.”

now it seems like getting on your good side might be a task for the gods.

good thing he is known for always getting what he wants.

— 

taking a sip of boba should never be this unpleasant. except that time he order matcha when he meant taro, beomgyu has always treated his boba runs as a particularly happy time. right now though, it isn’t going so well. especially when yeonjun goes “you’re fucking lying,” with a snickering tone.

“i only lied when i told you that mesh shirt you’re wearing was a look.”

“how dare you”

beomgyu then stands up and looks at the counter. there are only a couple of tapioca pearls left on his drink and he thinks he might ask for some more. are tapioca pearls refills allowed in this place? he doesn’t think they’re allowed anywhere, but he might as well ask.

“ok, ok, sit back down hyung,” taehyun tugs him from his arm, “when did this even happened?”

“i only have like two tapioca pearls left,” beomgyu ignores him and yeonjun goes, “he is talking about boba because he is lying.” he laughs. “there is no way. not even for you, gyu.” 

“look, i don’t know what is so unbelievable about me and y/n being together now,”

“y/n and me,” taehyun corrects

“what?” 

“the correct way to say it is ‘y/n and me’, not ‘me and y/n,” taehyun looks at beomgyu after sipping his own cup, “it can depend on the context of the sentence, like both are grammatically correct, but ‘y/n and me’ is considered mo-“

“what on actual fucking earth are you talking about?“

“that is literally not important!” yeonjun interrupts them both with a loud voice, “can we please come back to the topic and know why are you lying about y/n being your girlfriend?”

beomgyu glares at yeonjun, throwing his straw to the trashcan right next to them. they came in quite late to the boba shop and didn’t get the best table. it is a popular place after all. 

“for the millionth time, yeonjun, i’m not lying!” he says with wide eyes. “what is it that you want? i can call her right now, put her on speaker and asker to tell you how much she likes me, yeah?”

yeonjun narrows his eyes at him, suspicious. “do it.”

“you’re fucking kidding me-“ 

the door chimes and yeonjun’s attention is momentarily taken by the sound. beomgyu takes advantage of this and quickly sizes his cup only to realize his mistake too late and have the matcha flavor assaulting his taste buds. he thinks it is a pretty cruel trick on the universe’s part.

he chokes back a gag and it’s impossible for taehyun to not roll his eyes. he appears to be inmune to beomgyu’s charm, consequences of their close friendship.

yeonjun’s laughter fills the air once he realizes what happened. “that’s what you get,“ he says.

“how can you drink that?”

“matcha is tasty,” with a grin on his face, yeonjun shrugs.

“matcha is a sin,” beomgyu retorts, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

taehyun's interruption brought a halt to the conversation. “the way you are just unwilling to talk about it makes me think that yeonjun might be onto something,” he muses, propping his chin on his hand.

“why would i lie about me being in a relationship with someone?”

“you tell us,” yeonjun says mockingly.

taehyun fixes him with a pointed look. “yeonjun stop,” he says and then looks at this other friend, “beomgyu, it is not really about you being in a relationship. it is about with who.”

“what’s is wrong with y/n?” he asks with a pout on his lips.

“oh nothing,” yeonjun scoffs. “except everyone says she is quite literally a bi-“

beomgyu's voice cut through the air with a sharp edge, his tone tinged with seriousness. "watch it, yeonjun,.” he warned, his gaze unwavering.

yeonjun raised his eyebrows, surprised by beomgyu's sudden change in demeanor. "i was just going to say she's quite literally a big fan of not making friends,” he finished instead, eyes wide.

taehyun intervened swiftly, sensing the tension rising. "beomgyu," he began, his tone soft, "i'm not doubting your feelings, but we kind of know y/n's reputation. she's known for being... distant, self-centered even. i just don't want to see you get hurt because you're too trusting."

taehyun's words struck a chord with beomgyu, but before he could respond, yeonjun chimed in, his voice tinged with remorse. "he's right, gyu," he admitted, a hint of regret on his tone. “and i'm sorry about before. but still, you need to be careful. y/n... people have tried to get close to her before, and it hasn't gone well."

beomgyu's heart sank at yeonjun's words, the weight of their implications settling heavily on his shoulders. 

"look," he begins, his voice tinged with a mixture of conviction and uncertainty, "y/n is different, okay? she's not like anyone else i've ever met. and maybe i haven't been completely open about it because... because i know how you guys get. but i mean it when i say i’ve known her like other people haven’t. she is good.”

there's a pause as beomgyu searches for the right words, a shadow of vulnerability flickering across his features. "she's not just some stereotype or rumor," he continues, "there's more to her than that ‘ice queen’ nonsense."

as the trio leave the place, beomgyu sips on his refilled boba. turns out they definitely don’t do refills, but, “just for you,” they said.

he even got another straw.

—

“and that’s my problem how?” you asked with straight expression.

the girl in front of you stumbled over her words, her voice quivering as she tries to play it off with a quiet laugh. "i-i’m not saying it's your problem," she began cautiously. "but, like, your signature could totally convince mr. yang to extend the due date. if we all get on board, he'd have to at least consider it. please?”

"no," you reply.

she blinks, caught off guard. “wait, what? i mean, i’m sorry?" 

leaning back, taking a sip of your iced coffee, you return your gaze to your book. “you’re good,” you say in an almost nonchalant tone. "i’d just rather not be disturbed while i’m reading.”

she recoils, her nervous vibe replaced by incredulity. "i'm not apologizing to you!" she snaps back before taking a deep breath. "i just—why not? it literally doesn’t hurt you at all to sign? we really need your help y/n. it will even give you more time to finish your own stuff! ”

"already finished it,” you say, not even making eye contact.

she let out a surprised squeak, but recovered quickly.

"well, i guess that's cool for you," she muttered. "but, like, we need your signature or mr. yang won't even look at the petition.” 

nothing from your part.

mr. yang was a no-nonsense professor who smelled of tobacco and liked to look at everyone over his glasses as to remind you he is much more smarter than you. he hands out tough tasks, but always provides the necessary materials to complete them. though you weren't his favorite student, and he certainly wasn't your favorite teacher, you excelled in his class, meeting his high expectations. but you worked hard to get things done.

"look,” she sighed, “i know you're really smart, but some of us are really… struggling.“ she sighed sadly. ”it's taking forever to get through the text he sent, you know? if we all, like, come together and help each other out, we could totally make it happen. i don’t think he’d said no. what do you say?" she finished, giving you this hopeful look.

a look that was met with silence.

"y/n?" she tries again.

anna, the heroine in your book, seems genuinely tormented and you’re really starting to feel bad for her. if only she didn’t chose the red door. the blue door was the obvious right choice, but she decided to be adventurous. now, she will probably die. can vampires die? they can, you remember. in twilight, you have to cut them in little pieces and-

"hello?! earth to y/n?" you hear a loud voice in front of your face.

you glance up. right, the ‘help us change the due date’ girl from your class. can’t really say you remember her name. 

“you're still here?" you ask flatly. can people get any more annoying? 

"oh my god, seriously?!" she practically yells this time. "i can't believe you're such a bitch!"

suddenly, and before things could escalate further, beomgyu swoops in, looking all concerned. "whoa, what's going on?" he asks, his guitar hanging on his shoulder. “i heard yelling.”

beomgyu looks exceptionally good today, you decide. his dark, long hair framing his beautiful face, and eyes so deep and brown, you could not wait to get him alone…

"hey, beomie," you greet him with a smile. "nothing much. ready to leave?"

you've been waiting for him to finish his composition class. your own class got cut short, and you were ready to head home, but beomgyu insisted on spending the rest of the day with you, asking if you could wait for his class to end.

there's someone you can't say no to, and that's choi beomgyu, you've come to realize.

without waiting for an answer, you toss your book into your bag, grab your iced coffee, and take his hand, leading him towards the exit. your classmate watches you with wide eyes, speechless with incredulity. beomgyu glances back a little confused, offering her an apologetic smile and a quick wave as if to to smooth things over.

once outside, hand in hand, beomgyu asks carefully, "what was that?"

"oh, nothing at all,” you brush it off.

"she seemed mad," he remarks, and you stop in your tracks, making him stumble a little.

"did she? i didn't notice," you say, teasingly. "but i did notice i haven't kissed you yet."

with a playful glint in your eyes, you tilt his chin up with one hand and lean in, closing the distance between you as your lips meet in a slow, lingering kiss. beomgyu sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer.

"you're the sweetest," he whispers against your lips, screaming girls all forgotten.

—

“look at this video i took on saturday,” jun leans over the table to show a clip to beomgyu as they sat with a couple of his classmates at the uni cafe. beomgyu recognizes the place as the han river, and the performers on the clip as a dance team yeonjun showed him before.

“oh, i know them!” he says with a big smile, “they’re sooo good. don’t you think they should be like performing on music videos or something?”

“they should,” jun agrees. “i’ve seen them on tiktok though, and they’re making really big numbers.”

“oh shit, yeah, me too! i keep telling y/n to come with me to see them whenever yeonjun tells me they have a showcase.”

this caught the attention of gina, a girl from his music production class “i’m sorry, but i still can't believe you're with her, gyu.” she remarks shaking his head incredulously. 

beomgyu looks up from his phone to give her a questioning look, “what?”

“ah, she’s right” hyunjin says through bites of his ham sandwich, "i mean, she's smoking hot, but she's also a total ice queen."

beomgyu glares at him. "come on, not this again, not with the higschool nickname stuff” he defended “she is not an ice anything, you calling her that is cringe. i’ll have you know, she is really sweet, actually.”

"sweet? seriously, beomgyu?" hyejin chimed in, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "every time i've tried talking to her, she acts like i don't even exist."

“sh-“

"yeah, and remember when she snapped at mark for accidentally bumping into her? it was like she thought she was too good to even acknowledge him."

“but-“ 

"and what about that time she ignored seungmin’s text asking for help with the assignment? she could have at least replied!”

beomgyu's heart sank as he listened to his friends.

“remember last week? what she did to lilly? the stuff with the signatures? honestly, she is such a bitch sometimes…”

before beomgyu could respond, you happened to walk past their table, expression as frosty as ever. misinterpreting their conversation, you shot beomgyu a hurt look before walking away.

"great, now she thinks we're all talking behind her back," gina mutters with a wary look on her face.

beomgyu watches you go away, his heart sinking with the weight of the misunderstanding, realizing you must think you were talking bad about her too. 

he stands up abruptly, “for the record,” he interjects with a sharp voice “this better be the last time i hear any of you calling her names, i won't stand for anyone disrespecting her. we’re done.”

glaring at all of them, he turned and strode out of the café, leaving his former friends speechless. outside, he quickened his pace, determined to catch up to you and make things right before it was too late.

—

the doorbell rings incessantly, echoing through the hallway as beomgyu refuses to give up. he's been following you from the school building to your apartment, his determination evident in every step he takes. but despite his efforts, you continued to ignore him, driving him to the brink of frustration.

beomgyu knows he's pushing it, but the thought of you disregarding him like this drives him crazy. with each ring of the doorbell, he feels a surge of desperation, making him want to rip all his hair out. 

he keeps ringing the bell and knocking on the door with urgency. he's fully aware that he's risking disturbing the neighbors, they may even call the police.

he’ll risk going to jail for you, he thinks.

finally, the door swings open with a sharp smack, and you're standing there, glaring at him. "knock it off!" you yell, frustration evident in your voice.

despite your fiery eyes, he’s just glad to see your face.

"i'm sorry," beomgyu blurts out, his words coming out in a rush. “but i am sorry you had to listen to that, not sorry because i was agreeing with them or anything, because i was not. i definitely was not, in fact i was letting them know how wonderful and sweet you are, is honestly what i always do. they’re not even my friends anymore. i literally ended it with them. i let them know, oh fuck, i always let everyone know you’re perfect and sweet and the best person i've ever met in my life and that i'm just so so lucky to have you and i love you more than anything and i don’t care about what anyone says because you’re always so, so good to me.”

his words spill out in a jumbled mess, but the sincerity in his voice is unmistakable. beomgyu's desperation is palpable, his rambling emotions laid bare. 

you stare at beomgyu, your expression neutral, as his words hang in the air between you. his eyes search yours desperately and, for a moment, he thinks he might have finally pushed you too far, that his rambling confession may have been a mistake.

but then, without warning, you break the tension with two simple words. "come in," you say.

relief floods beomgyu's features as he exhales a shaky breath, the weight lifting from his shoulders. without hesitation, he steps through the doorway, the sound of the door clicking shut behind him.

—

beomgyu is standing right in front of you, in your bed, with red cheeks in anticipation. 

“beomie, do you think i’m a bitch?” you ask with a teasing pout on your lips.

“no! no, no, no i don’t” he responds, looking up at you with puppy eyes, long lashes and a slight frown on his face

“correct,” you concede, putting his hair behind his ear softly “you were dying for me to even look at you, beomie, so i did. how can i be a bitch when i give all you the attention you so desperately beg from me?”

beomgyu exhales, clearing his throat to prevent himself for making any noise. you look down at him, his dark hair, indolent eyes and pouting lips. so pretty, just for you.

“answer me.” 

“you’re not, you are so good to me, you’re always so good to me.” he whines, but somehow his voice gets lower. aching to touch you, but keeping his hands on his side, just like he was told.

“that’s right.” you go down and crawl between his thighs slowly. he feels hot wherever you touch him. “i’m so good to you…” you concede as you reach out with confident fingers and grab the waist of his pants and start drawing them down. you pause halfway, though. a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "but, do you deserve it, beomie?" you ask, your tone laced with mock concern.

beomgyu's breath escapes him in rapid bursts, too stunned to speak, but he knows better than not to answer you.

“no..” he chockes out “i don’t deserve it, don’t deserve you.”

“you’re right, you don’t deserve any of it,” you remind him, “good thing i’m so wonderful and sweet right?” you mock as you shove the rest of his pants and underwear down in a quick motion. 

his cock comes up against his stomach, twitchy and veiny and your mouth is watering at the sight in front of you, wanting nothing more than for him to cum down your throat. but today is not the day.

beomgyu chews down hard on his lip and closes his eyes at the feeling of you liberating his length. he’s always been too sensitive, but with you he feels like it’s always the first time.

“open your eyes, beomie,” you tell him. “i want you to see and remember what you have to be grateful for.”

he opens his eyes in an instant just for him to watch you slowly wrap your mouth around his tip. he sucks in a a hiss and let’s out a groan when you draw your lips with a light pressure down his cock until he hits the back of your throat, only to come back up and leave a trail of saliva along the way.

“fuuck,” he lets out with a trembling breath. “oh my god”

you put him on your mouth again and swirl your tongue around him, he hits the start of your throat once again and slide up and down, up and down. you wrapped your lips around his tip one more time before running the flat of your tongue up his cock slowly and you stare directly into his eyes,

beomgyu is a mess of flushed skin and teary eyes and can’t stop whimpering at the feeling and sight of you using your mouth on him, he swallows, throat dry and bites his bottom lip to prevent him from spluttering nonsense.

“i don- don’t know if i can- fuuuck- i- i can’t.. can’t hold it, fuck y/n , you’re so- so good to me-“ 

with his hands on your hair loosing himself to the feeling of your mouth on him, you can’t help but moan on his cock as you can already taste his pre-cum on your tongue, threatening to spill past your lips. you take you mouth off of him. “beomie, don’t cum yet-“ you say between licks, before spitting on him, lubricating and using your hand instead “- baby, hold it in, not yet.”

“i- i can’t, i can’t” he cries and you stop, his chest going up and down aggressively before lifting his face to look up at you. lips red and shinny from biting hard and cheeks rosy from all the pleasure. you think he has never look this pretty.

he sits up trembling, looking at you you slide your drenched panties off. then you straddle his lap, looking at his red erection up and proud, tip right at your entrance, and without any warning, you take his cock in your hand go down on him inch by inch, his arms coming around your torso in desperation as you hold yourself up wrapping yours around his neck, holding each other so close you could feel echother’s heartbeat.

you completely sink down on him and you both gasp, automatically making you clench around him.

“fuuck, baby” beomgyu hissed. his hands coming down to your waist to keep you in place, he’s afraid he would cum in a second if you moved an inch. “don’t move, please”

so, you raised your hips and you both let out a breathy moan as you sat back down again. he whines.

“you can do it beomie, hold it baby” you purr in his mouth. repeating the action again and again. “don’t you want me to fuck you?” 

“ye- yes please,- fuuuck yes” he cries, holding you close. always eager to please, he lets you do as you want. obeying you just in time for him to become a whimpering mess.

it was embarrassing, really, how affected he got in literal seconds. and you, with the sensation of having his cock filling you up, couldn’t help but use him like a toy.

“good boy,” you sing softly, breath hitching. “good, good boy. i knew you would let me use you like this. kne- knew you would like to make me happy. right beomie? because you love me? you want to- oh my god” you whine, bouncing up and down on him with urgency, felling him thus up to meet you halfway. “you want to make me feel good”

beomgyu feels like fire inside you, feeling you squeezing him so tight he feels himself closer and closer. he takes his hand from your waist to massage your breasts, knowing how sensitive your nipples are, making you sigh, earning him a kiss so lewd he’ll dream about it. “yes, thank you, please,” he cries, “i want- i want-“

“you can’t even talk beomie!” you chuckle dryly, “wh-what would your friends say if they saw you like this? huh?” you whispered on his mouth, the feeling so good its sending your blood rushing to your head as you keep fucking him stupid.

“their proud, confident beomgyu is just- fuck” you gasp at the feeling of his lips closing around your nipple, ”just a dirty slut? huh” you throw your head back to give him more access as you continue to bounce on his cock “ a begging little whore is what you are beomie”

he feels himself closer and closer, your dirty talking sending him over the edges he pleads, “just for you, i swear is just for you, i love you”

“good boy” you panted on his mouth again, feeling the sensation of your orgasm looming over your body and beomgyu was hit with the staggering force of his release as he came inside you, calling out your name in pleading gasps.

you blinked almost sleepily, looking down at your boyfriend and his post-fuck look, a small smile on his face as you leaned down to place a little kiss on his nose.

“love you too, pup.” you sighed.

—

not matcha, but not taro, either.

beomgyu feels like trying something new as he looks at the menu. the scent of sweet tapioca and freshly brewed tea surrounds you two and he thinks this is exactly what dreams are made of, yet deciding on just the right drink feels like an impossible task right this second.

so he scans the menu, his eyes flickering between the various options. yeonjun said their new horchata drink was good, but he doesn’t trust yeonjun’s taste.

“do you know what you’re ordering?” he asks you with big, round eyes. 

you can't help but notice how his eyes resemble tapioca pearls – "just iced coffee," you reply with a hint of amusement.

“right,” beomgyu chuckles, realizing he should have guessed as much.

suddenly, the girl behind the counter approaches you, her bright smile matching the cheery vibe of the boba shop. "hi there! can i help you?" she chirps.

beomgyu's attention shifts to her, “oh! yes yes, just a second” he responds, his eyes scanning the menu once more.

"well, our special today is the pina colada boba blast," the girl continues with a playful tone "it's sweet, refreshing, and i guarantee you it will leave you wanting more!”

beomgyu looks up, and before he could respond, you step forward, "we'll figure it out ourselves, thanks," you say curtly.

the girl's smile falters slightly. "o-okay, let me know if you need any help," she mumbles, retreating to the safety of the register.

"come on, babe, she was just doing her job," beomgyu says, chuckling a little and reaching for your hand. "but i think is time for me to finally admit… there's something kind of hot about you being mean."

you rolled your r eyes, but a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. you figured that much way before he did “i’m not being mean, beomie,” you still say, feigning ignorance “i truly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

beomgyu grins, feeling a surge of affection for the girl by his side. as they placed their order and settled into a cozy corner of the boba shop, he couldn't help but think how happy he was to have you, even if you did have a bit of a mean streak.

[grandlinedreams]

|| i regret nothing I need Cooper Howard viscerally both pre and post Ghoulification

|| notes: semi Canon compliant, spoiler-ish for end of s1, semi-shifting pov, Lucy is adorable but baby girl you will be chewed up and spat out pls grow more spine, Dogmeat has never done anything wrong ever, godbless Cooper having a southern accent bc that's my accent, yeah, gonna do a sequel to this and a prequel on Coop and reader's first meeting, ok bye

|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, couple of allusions to cannibalism, reader is not specifically gendered, NSFW ㅡ fingering/touching

“Where are we going?”

Not for the first time today, or even the last week, Cooper questions why he's letting the Vaultie (“Lucy,” she informs him primly, “my name is Lucy.”) tag along. The dog, at least, is a good, reliable companion. Dogmeat trots dutifully at his side, her tail wagging as he stops to glare at Lucy.

“Supplies, Vaultie,” he tells her, relishes the flicker of annoyance in her eyes. “Need supplies or we'll both be knee deep in shit.” He pauses. “More than we already are.” 

She mumbles something he doesn't care to catch as he resumes walking, rolling his eyes as he adjusts his hat. He knows he could stand to be a little more sympathetic with the bombshell she's still dealing with, but he can't bring himself to ㅡ not when his daughter might still be alive out there, somewhere. (And his ex-wife, who he's pointedly trying to not think about too much.) 

Lucy is blessedly quiet for a good while, all the way until they get closer to where they're going. Cooper doesn't need that piece of shit vault-tec device on her arm to know where he is, but Lucy says it anyways.

“It's a town,” she mumbles at the cluster of ramshackle buildings, surrounded by the clustering of trees so much like Filly ㅡ but isn't. “Is thisㅡ”

“Yes,” he answers, “now shut it and walk.”

Lucy huffs. “I don't know if you've realized neither of us have means to pay for anything,” she protests, “but the general rule ofㅡ” 

“Vaultie.” If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under. He's never had much patience, but she’s already reached the bottom of it and keeps digging. “Shut the fuck up about your goddamn rules. If you haven't noticed, nobody up here gives a damn about playing by what's wrong and what's right.” He gives her a meaningful look. “Now if you don't want me to leave your ass to whatever comes along next, you'll be quiet and let me handle it.” 

Lucy's mouth shuts with an audible click, and Cooper turns on his heel to resume walking, Dogmeat at his heels. 

Like Filly, the center of buildings bustle with the day to day of so many others, the cacophony of animal sounds along with chatter ㅡ Cooper spares Lucy a brief glance to watch her struggle to keep up and scoffs to himself, shaking his head as he continues.

He knows where he's going, a little shop shoved between two others, narrow but deeper than the other two, because he's been here before. Several times, actually. Which accounts for the familiarity with which he strolls over the threshold and leaves Lucy and Dogmeat to follow. 

There's the jingle of what might be a bell over Lucy's head when she follows, blinking at the interior. Neat and tidy, or at least as much as can pass for such things on the surface ㅡ rows of weapons and other assorted things on shelves and stands. 

Lucy watches The Ghoul rap his fist on the counter. “I know you're here,” he calls, “you never leave this damn place!”

She expects whoever it is to come scuttling out with the tone of voice he uses and being as accustomed to his rougher attitude, and she listens to the clatter of something further in the shop.

“If that's your greeting nowadays,” comes the answer, “you can fuck off.” 

To Lucy’s surprise, The Ghoul husks a laugh instead of offering another threat. Footsteps approach, and Lucy blinks at the person who rounds the corner. 

“You,” you accuse, finger almost into his chest, “thought I told you I was done dealing with you if you couldn't work on your manners.” 

Lucy stares, and watches as you turn towards her and raise an eyebrow, eyeing her with unrestrained curiosity, then at Dogmeat. “A vaultie and a dog,” you say, then glance back at The Ghoul. “So, taking in strays, huh?”

The Ghoul grimaces. “Guess so.” He clears his throat. “Need supplies again, sweetheart.”

“Figured as much,” you say, arms folding across your chest. Lucy decides she likes you, because you're standing up to him ㅡ and he's letting you. “Take it you have no way of paying, again.”

Lucy wants to tell The Ghoul I told you so, because he can shit on all her little rules all he likes but the surface still deals in keeping the scales balanced. You have to eat too, so it's fair that you're expecting payment in the nonexistent caps they have. The Ghoul, on the other hand, tries a different route. 

“Oh come on now sugar,” The Ghoul wheedles, tone almost what could be considered as sweet. Playing at a gentleman for the way he leans against the cobbled together counter, even goes as far as to take his hat off and place it down. “Don't be like that.”

“Don't you sugar me,” you counter with an attitude that honestly startles Lucy for both the lack of genuine bite or answering hostility from The Ghoul. This isn't the first time you've met, she realizes, and is also quietly a little horrified to register that this almost sounds like flirting. “You're a pain in the ass, you know that?”

The Ghoul almost grins. “At least I'm consistent. Besides, you know you miss me when I'm gone.” 

You snort, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. Lucy feels a tiny bit uncomfortable with the atmosphere, like she's watching something she shouldn't be privy to. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you answer, bustling around to shove several fabric wrapped packs into his chest and giving him a meaningful look. “You owe me.” 

It's definitely flirting now, Lucy notes as The Ghoul's face lights up in a way that's still entirely human, tracking your movements with something far softer than anything she's ever seen from him. 

The turn towards her and head jerk to her and Dogmeat is as clear as dismissal as she's ever seen, to make herself scarce ㅡ so she does, but not before she catches the peripheral glimpse of the way you let him reach for you, almost melting into him for the way he moves to undoubtedly murmur something. 

That something is not the sweet words of a long time lover, but it's probably about as close as you're going to get with things the way they are.

 

“Anyone causin’ you trouble lately?” 

You roll your eyes. “Besides you?” He gives you a look, and you shake your head. “No, and even if there was, you know I can handle myself.” You turn to throw him a teasing look over your shoulder. “Don't tell me you're getting soft on me, old man.” 

It's Cooper's turn to snort, even as he moves to follow you. There's a sort of peace to watching you sort through boxes of shell casings and bottles of powder, letting his gaze drift over your body. 

When you turn, he doesn't even bother to hide the way he's watching you, and you arch an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he returns. “Can't I admire you?”

You roll your eyes. “I'm too expensive for you, Cooper.” It's a playful taunt, one that incites a little flare of something in his eyes as he approaches, the jingle of his spurs as he comes to loom over you, cages you in against the shelves of “inventory”. 

“Really now,” he drawls, leans in, eyes predatory dark. A lifetime ago, you might have been scared. But the wastelands made no qualms about beating fear out of people just as quick as it snuffed out life all together. “Here I was thinkin’ I might get a discount.” He reaches, thumbs at your bottom lip with his gloved digit. “What's the askin’ price, sweetheart?” 

This close, he smells like the wastelands and sunbaked leather, with a little bit of blood ㅡ but you don't mind. Never have, not sure you ever will. Not when it comes to him, anyways.

He's a dangerous man. A man with a reputation that's well-earned, spoken in hushed whispers and anything but nice. But you let him slot a leg between yours, lean in, press his lips to your hair. You smell like gunpowder and hot metal, grease stained fingertips and more than a couple bruises and scars for your efforts. 

Sometimes Cooper contends with the idea he might need you just as much as he needs that chem that keeps him sane. Admits it here and there, quietly to himself when he wanders in, squashes it down that he makes the trips sometimes just to make sure you're still alive. Not like he'd know if you were, till he sees you. Not sure what he'd do if he someday came up and found you gone. No note, no goodbye ㅡ quick and quiet, the cruelty of the wastelands.  

“Didn't answer my question, darlin’.” He mumbles, lips to your cheeks now. Soft skin, kept carefully with rationed doses of radaway and a healthy heap of keeping your cute little self out of business that doesn't involve you. “Come on, I asked you real nicely.” 

You hook your fingers in the loops of his belt, pull him closer. He can feel the jump of your heartbeat under his lips, now at your jawline. A soft, shaky inhale. Selfishly, he wants to keep you. Steal you away, greedy to keep you for himself. Hates the idea of whatever scum that rolls in that you have to deal with on your own. You can handle yourself, he knows that. 

Doesn't stop that little piece of him that's still truly Cooper Howard from worrying. But he knows better than to think he can protect you, because he can't. So he does what he can.

Your skin is soft under his teeth, forgiving to the nip of them, the blooming blossom of pink that reminds him of strawberries. The noise you make is just as sweet, and he wonders if you'd taste like that, too. 

“I'm waiting,” he prompts between little nips, mouth curving against your flesh when you grip at him tighter. There's a lot he could do to you, and not a lot you wouldn't let him. “Don't tell me this big ol’ cat’s got your tongue, little songbird.” 

Your lips part, and he expects either a sparky response or a soft plea for what this is tilting towards, partaking of something far softer than anything he's used to nowadays ㅡ  but you’ve always had a taste for throwing him for a loop, and you do it now. 

“Take me with you.” 

That snaps him out of his little hazy, touch-greedy daze, enough that he pulls away to look at you properly. “Repeat that?”

“You heard me.” You tug at the loops of his belt, eyes steely, expression firm. “Take me with you. Tired of this shitty little outpost. Figure it's time to move before I get myself into trouble I can't get out of.”

Cooper laughs. “Think you're runnin’ straight into that fire by askin’ what you're askin’, sweet thing.” A warning and a plea, mixed mish-mash in his words. Part of him wants you to stay here. Concrete, much as it can be, where he knows where you are. Other part says it'd be easier to watch your back if he saw it all the time. 

“That's not an answer, Cooper.” 

He snorts, softens at the edges again, a little sadder as he reaches to stroke your jawline, leans to bump his forehead to yours ㅡ radiation warm against radaway cold. “Wanna make sure you know what you're asking for, darlin’. I ain't your babysitter. Got my own shit to do.”

“I know.” There's that fire in your voice, the kind he loves and hates at the same time. “Wasn't asking for you to babysit me.” 

He swallows roughly. Lets his hands drift up your sides, tug at the tuck of your shirt, underneath to drag sun-worn leather against the soft skin of your abdomen. Relishes the way you shiver, leaning into his touch. “Can't promise nothin’, you know that.” 

Your smile promises the same kind of heartbreak his own words do, the kind rooted in the reality that the world doesn't deal in any absolute but death, and sure as shit won't give happy endings. Not anymore. “I know.” 

Cooper can't think of what to say to that, at least anything he's ready to, so he kisses you. Your lips are too soft against his, the warmth of your mouth reigniting that greedy, needy, human thing inside him. He pulls, digs his fingers into your soft, pliant skin, and he takes.

Takes what you willingly give him, hand over hand with nothing but that pretty little smile of yours. He muffles your gasp as he wedges his leg a little firmer, coaxes the part of your legs with a rough husk of, “just like that, dollface,” and delights too much in the sound of you moaning for him.

Hushed, quiet enough that there's no reason for Dogmeat or Lucy to come back yet (he doesn't know what they're up to nor does he really fuckin’ care at the moment), he lets himself indulge in the pleasure of your body against his. The sweet little sounds, half-gasped as he mouths at your neck, hitched to something almost like music as his hands wander. 

Pauses long enough to bite at the tip of his glove and tug, one then two, the bare, radiation scarred wander of his fingers over your body. It's selfish, the way he covets every little twitch and jump of your muscles, the choked gasp as he guides you into rocking against his leg. 

“You're so sweet for me, sugar,” he coos, syrupy as he picks you apart meticulously, piece by piece. Fingers still far too good at what they do when he replaces his leg with the press of them against you, remnants of a past life for how well he gets you to whimper his name. “Like ambrosia.” 

His fingers stroke, deceptively gentle, working over your slick, too-hot, achy skin until you’re panting and gripping at him, pleading for a relief only he can give you. And that’s exactly how he wants you, where all you can see and think of is him. 

The expression you make when he finally lets you come might truly be the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a very long time. Headier than the Jet, dizzying and making him swear as he jerks his clothed hips against yours, breath sharp in his chest. 

“Gonna be the death of me, I swear.” He bites at your neck, digs a little harder, scrapes his canines into your sweet, yielding flesh. He could devour you, take bite after sweet, sweet bite and actually test that theory about the strawberries. Crack the cage of your rib, feast on that beating yolk of heart that thumps so hard in your chest. 

“Gonna let me do it, sweet thing?” He rumbles against your ear. “Let me have it all?” 

Your eyes flash, lips pretty and swollen as they part to answer ㅡ and the bark of that damn mutt ruins it all. At least it's a warning for you both, because he's stepping back and letting you fix yourself with surprising speed as Lucy and Dogmeat return, an expectant look on the fuckin’ vaultie's face. 

“Well? Got what you need?"

Cooper snorts, tracks you instead of answering as you press your hand to his for a second, gone around the corner. Lucy frowns when you return, pistol strapped at your hip and a bandolier slung over your shoulder like his, broad pack strapped to your back. Like you planned for this.

And you did, he notes, but it hadn't been contingent on his agreement. Idly, he notes he never did answer you, not really. But he just hums, then turns towards Lucy, who looks between the two of you, confused. 

“Yeah,” he finally answers, “got what I need.”

[reidmotif]

Coffee and Consequences

Summary: Reader joins the BAU, and Spencer seems insistent on being a problem for her.

Request: pls i am such a sucker for angst/smut, can you do one where spencer is closed off and cold to a new recruit, and it upsets her, so she tries to get him to like her, which leads to an argument and confession, with soft smut?

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut/Light Angst (Happy Ending)

Content Warning: Reader POV, little shit Spencer, oral sex (f recieveing), gunshot wound/typical canon violence, unprotected sex

Word Count: 6.1k

Upon starting at the BAU, I believed there was no question about me, especially when it came to my skills and ability to perform my job. From stellar recommendations from my superiors at the Academy, to general demeanor and tact, there was no question about whether or not my success was imminent. Most of the team were more than elated to welcome me to the small family they’d built over the years, despite my younger age than most of them, which I was eternally grateful for. 

Most, being the keyword in that sentence. Since I’d begun, there’d been one thorn in my roses, the bane of my existence, you might say. Spencer fucking Reid. I’m aware of the fact that not everyone could like me, that was a given. I'm an FBI agent, for god’s sake. To expect warmth and friendship from everyone would be naive and lead to disappointment in any given scenario. 

But Jesus Christ, this was getting absolutely ridiculous. 

I consistently replayed the events of our first meeting. In an attempt to make a good first impression, (which seems stupid, in hindsight) I brought coffee to each of my new co-workers, hoping to establish myself as a friendly, non-threatening presence in their lives. I’d covertly asked Emily for help, as within the interviews and background checks required to even be considered for a position in the BAU, there was a certain camaraderie and friendship forged through the continued exposure to each other. 

Emily advised me carefully, understanding the intentions behind the act, and being more than happy to help.  “JJ likes vanilla lattes, nothing too fancy. Rossi is a little simpler, a Caffe Americano.” I spoke, and continued to go through my team’s regular orders, until there was hesitation on a somewhat infamous name, one that I myself was already intrigued by. “Spencer’s an easy order to remember, but you have to make sure you get it right.” 

I found myself nodding, the seriousness of Emily’s words striking me- momentarily finding myself forgetting that they were speaking about something as mundane as coffee. "Emily spoke slowly, as if I was advising a child. 'Reid likes black coffee, but you have to make sure to add extra sugar.'" I nodded quickly, "Alright, black coffee with extra sugar, got it-" Emily interrupted me abruptly. "No, no. You're not hearing me, extra sugar. I mean a lot, okay? Otherwise, he quite literally won't drink it."

I found myself chuckling a little bit, thinking about the image of Spencer Reid I’d built up in my head before I’d even met him. I knew he had been framed and had endured a considerable time in prison. I was also aware of his intelligence, a natural by-product of all the papers he’d written, and how many of his own techniques in geographic profiling were referenced during my time in the Academy. Working with him seemed like a dream come true. The idea of a grown man needing as much sugar in his coffee as Emily made it seem added just a bit of charm to the already positive perception I’d had of him. 

In the coffee shop, I carefully recited the orders of my new teammates, taking extra caution in advising the barista that the black coffee needed extra sugar. I could tell the patrons behind me were definitely annoyed, but it didn’t matter. First impressions matter more. Even after my incessant requests about sugar, I took the time to open the lid of the steaming black coffee to add in 3 extra packets of brown sugar provided at the customization station in the back of the coffee shop. I could tell the barista was boring holes into the back of my head, and I honestly wasn’t surprised or could blame her. At this point, the sugar had to be more than the coffee itself. I gave a satisfied grin to myself, knowing I’d followed Emily’s directions and the possibility of friendship with someone I’d already come to admire wasn’t something far-off to wish for. 

God, was I wrong. 

I approached the bullpen cautiously, being greeted by an assortment of new faces. I quickly matched names to descriptors that had been given to me from Emily. I then noticed one face that hadn’t greeted me yet, sat alone in the back with his nose in a book. I couldn’t discern the title, which I quickly figured was due to the fact that the book appeared to be some European language I’d most likely never even heard of. The man had a mess of brown hair on his head, and even from across the room I could tell it was curling softly near the nape of his neck. He was handsome. More handsome than I had pegged him for. I knew almost immediately that this had to have been the infamous Spencer Reid, and I cautiously approached him, flashing a small smile. 

He heard me a mile away, looking up quickly and putting away his book. His eyes seemed to size me up, and he didn’t seem to return my smile. I knew better than to shake hands with him, being predisposed to his germaphobe nature and instead held out the coffee, almost as if it was a peace offering. 

“Hi, uh. I’m the new recruit, I believe Emily warned you all about me and I just wanted to introduce myself. (Y/N). That’s my name. It’s nice to meet you.” I said, a little dumbly, still holding the coffee out. I quickly realized I hadn’t explained the reasoning behind the coffee cup and quickly added, “Coffee. I asked Emily about how you liked it. And brought it. So, yeah.” I said. I was aware of how awkward this conversation was becoming, considering I was still holding out the cup, like an idiot, and he hadn’t said a word to me yet. He nodded, taking the coffee cup from me and placing it on his desk. “Dr Reid. Welcome.” His greeting was short, but I tried not to let it bother me. Perhaps he wasn’t as forthcoming to strangers, nevermind that. The coffee was enough. I smiled, again, hoping to make my intentions clear. “Nice to meet you, Dr Reid.” 

I turned back, feeling satisfied. I’d done what I’d come there to do. Except a sound from behind me alerted me that maybe I was a bit early to assume that, because when I’d turned around, an incredibly displeased Dr Reid was throwing away his coffee- the coffee I had brought! That I’d waited for in a morning rush for, that I’d taken the time to add even more sugar to- that coffee! In the trash! His eyes met mine as he dropped it into the trashcan near his desk, shuddering a bit as he did so. He didn’t even look apologetic. 

I approached him, a bit upset and sad, but there was caution in my tone, not wanting to offend him before he even had a chance to know me. “Dr Reid, I’m sorry was the coffee-” Dr Reid quickly interrupted me. “Did Emily not tell you my order?” He asked, a little bit of sharpness to his tone. 

Okay, so this guy took his coffee seriously. Emily was not kidding around. 

“Um, yes-” He interrupted again. “Yes? Are you sure?” He said, a bit of condescension in his tone. Okay, holy shit. All this over coffee? “Very sure.” I responded, confidently. “Black, with extra sugar- I even put extra at the counter.” I added this, trying to convey that while I was sorry it wasn’t to his liking, it’s not like I didn’t try. That had to count for something, right? 

Wrong. Spencer Reid did not seem like the type of man who cared about trying. He retorted with, “Well, it wasn’t enough.” And with that, he shuffled to the breakroom, seemingly to make his own coffee. 

It seemed like from there, things only got worse. In one of my first cases, I quickly made a quip about the statistics on suburban murders, hoping to add some valuable information to the conversation. I tried hard not to overpower anyone and stay in my lane as the resident newbie, but Spencer seemed to take personal offense to it, going out of his way to argue that it meant nothing. I fired back, hoping to affront my point but Reid quickly cut me off.

 “You’re new, alright? And young. It’s granted that you should be clueless when it comes to some of these things.” His words, although somewhat true, were accompanied by a harsh tone and a coldness in his voice. What could’ve been well-meaning advice from a senior agent on the team was clearly not that at all. All signs pointed to one thing: He absolutely hated me. 

For all I tried, it seemed like he only disliked me more. It wasn’t unnoticed by my teammates, how he’d dismiss me. I was aware of my newness, of my inexperience, how this team had had years to grow around each other before I was ever even considered for this position, but it seemed with the more time I spent at the BAU, Spencer’s disdain only increased. He seemed to go out of his way to not sit by me on the jet, or how he seemed absolutely uninterested in anything involving me. I understood that not everyone would like me, but a bit of respect would be nice. I didn’t need friendship, just his tolerance, and even that seemed out of reach for Dr Spencer Reid. 

Eventually, this led to the dynamic  we harbored now. A year into the BAU, and instead of a friendship, or even acquaintanceship, it was constant bickering. It’s not like I wanted to argue- he just made it impossible for me to find footing within the BAU. I obviously stood up for myself, but was met with resistance from the doctor, and so the cycle continued. 

Still, despite the obvious dislike Reid harbored for me, it wasn’t like that magically made him dumb, or any less attractive to me. His intelligence was as impressive as I’d expected it to be, if not even moreso. I watched in real-time as the cogs in his mind turned, his slender fingers finding a point on the side of his mouth to tap, before stopping and sharing what he’d just thought of. He was brilliant, and no one could take that away from him

 However, in this particular case we were currently dealing with, it seemed that brilliance simply didn’t matter, because how could someone like him be so absolutely stupid? 

The hostage situation we were dealing with was tricky, to say the least. Multiple civilians, and a trigger happy unsub. Any experienced agent would be at a loss when handling something like this, but Spencer seemed confident. He’d been pushing to storm the building, citing that more people would get hurt the longer they allowed the unsub to continue making demands. I found myself  wholeheartedly disagreeing, attempting to put my foot down and be heard. I found that perhaps, through negotiations, we could not only save the civilians, but walk away with zero people hurt. Naturally, this caused commotion between the senior agent and myself. 

“Reid, I’ve told you for the millionth time that this unsub can’t be approached like this!” I whisper-yelled, clearly fed up with Spencer by this point. He questioned every decision of mine, and it's gotten to me. 

“(Y/N), you’ve dealt with maybe 3 hostage situations in your life. This isn’t something for you to take point on. We have civilians in there, and it’s more important we save them.” He responded, in his own hiss. 

“You’re being ridiculous!” I retorted. 

“You’re naive!” He shot back. 

We’d clearly reached a head when it came to this. Spencer huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m using my seniority here. We’re going to give the go-ahead to SWAT and make our way into the building.” 

I found myself returning the gesture. “Spencer- '' I began, only to be interrupted.

 “Dr Reid.” He corrected, venom in his voice. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I replied, furrowing my brows. 

“What?” He countered, seeming calm, but his eyes gave away simply how determined he was to win this. 

“This is a terrible idea.” I said, firmly. “Someone’s going to get hurt.” 

“Oh, and how do you know that?” Spencer quipped. “Is it your years of experience in the field? Or your time spent as an FBI agent?” He said, sarcastically. 

“I understand I don’t have as much experience as you, but-” I started, but I found myself cut off by him again. Bastard. He never let me finish my sentences. “Exactly.” He responded, calmly. “You don’t have as much experience. I know what I’m doing. Let’s go.” And with that, he walked, leaving me to simply follow. God, I fucking hated that guy. Forget the intelligence, none of that mattered when he was such a dick. 

As they entered the warehouse doors behind SWAT, I  knew that it was wrong. Something was off. We’d profiled this unsub as the dominant type, and an egotistical personality that wouldn’t allow for a partner. It was a part of the profile that they were sure of. It was part of the reason why Spencer was so confident of going in. 

Upon entering though, the SWAT team had a clear shot of the unsub, but in a split second, there were shots heard from an entirely different part of the warehouse. From the direction in which Spencer was directly in line of. 

It wasn’t like I thought about it, maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have done it. It was based on pure instinct. I found myself in front of Spencer Reid, the man who’d questioned my every decision since I’d begun my job, taking a bullet for him. Maybe he was right, maybe I was an idiot. 

I heard the gunshot first, then felt the cold floor pressing into my cheek where I’d been knocked down. Then a tight pressure in my arm. I finally looked down, seeing a bloom of red appear under my dress shirt where a bullet had struck, away from the vest I wore to prevent this sort of thing. I took in a sharp breath of air, eyes widening as my breathing began to quicken. I rolled onto my back, only to be met with Spencer’s concerned and frightened expression above me. I heard ins and outs of his speech into his receiver, as I faded in and out of consciousness. 

“Yes! We have an agent down. We need medic, now!” He yelled. I watched him in fascination, his face currently seeming to be the only thing I could focus on besides the overwhelming burning that I felt. I heard him speak to me, calmly. “Y/N? Stay with me, okay? You need to stay conscious. Okay?” He spoke to me calmly, but the waver in his voice was unmistakable. I found my eyelids growing heavier as I nodded. 

It wasn’t long until I came to, groggily opening my eyes to see Spencer’s concerned face looking back at me. I heard his voice, soft and distant. 

“(Y/N)..?” Spencer said, cautiously. 

“Dr Reid?” was my response. I was still a bit dizzy, and a bit confused about my whereabouts. 

“You were shot.” He replied, immediately. “In your arm.” He added, as if that wasn’t already obvious. 

I found myself chuckling, “Yeah, I can tell.” I said, my eyes meeting his. His expression was a bit unreadable, a mix between sternness and apprehension. I watched him, as his gaze shifted and he bit his lip. “You took it for me.” He said, suddenly. “The bullet, I mean.” He continued. “It would’ve hit me if you hadn’t gotten in the way.” 

“Gotten in the way?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“Gotten in the way.” He repeated back to me, his face hard. 

“Are you upset I took a bullet for you?” I said, furrowing my brows, my lips parting in shock. Was this guy serious? 

“Yes.” He said, his voice angry. “What were you thinking?” His voice wavered with anger and another emotion I couldn’t quite discern in that moment. 

“I wasn’t thinking, I just-” 

“Exactly.” He responded, harshly. “You weren’t thinking.” He said, his voice reaching a volume I’d never heard before, granted, it was still collected, but I’d never seen this side of him. 

I contemplated how to respond to this, actually not being able to believe that he could be mad at me for something like this. Yes, it was brash but- he didn’t get shot! Isn’t that a plus? His voice broke my thoughts, now a bit more shaky, softer. “Do you have any idea what that would mean? If you’d been hurt worse, what that would mean for me?” He said, looking right at my face, into my eyes with a blaze. “What you mean to me?” 

I found myself unable to respond, still not being able to grapple with what he was saying. What he was implying. “Sorry?” I asked, softly. 

“(Y/N)..” He said, softly. His own expression mirrored my confusion mixed with longing I’d never seen before on him. Especially when he looked at me. His hand brushed across my face, moving some hair that had drifted near my eye. I held my breath as he did so, watching as his tongue slipped out to wet his bottom lip, still watching intently. I felt my lips slightly part as he came closer, unsure what was going to happen in this moment, but regardless, my gaze was intently trained on his. 

In a split second though, the sounds of the rest of the BAU filtered into the hospital room. They jumped away from each other, Spencer now 4 feet away from me. Emily came up to my bedside, looking at the wound. 

The typical chastisement came, and the general choruses of appreciation that I was still alive. The diagnosis revealed that (Y/N) would be just fine, given I remembered to clean my wound liberally and change the bandages.

In about a week, I found myself discharged. I was given about 2 more weeks to rest at my apartment. I assumed the time would be enough to forget the strange moment I’d had in the hospital room. At some points, if I tried hard enough, I could convince myself it hadn’t happened at all. The tenderness in his eyes, the way his gaze drifted to my lips, so subtle it could’ve as easily been a figment of imagination. I shook my head, as if I could rid myself of all the feelings I’d harbored about that specific moment. I made my way to the kitchen, grabbing a fresh-set of bandages to apply on the recovering wound, wincing as I peeled away the layers of gauze to reveal the injury. As I began to apply the anti-septic, I began to wrap the gauze, until I heard a knock at my apartment door. 

I put down the gauze, looking through the peephole and being surprised to see the senior agent that had been haunting my thoughts for the past few weeks. I opened the door quickly, meeting his pensive gaze. 

“Can I come in?” He said, quickly, almost if he didn’t say the words fast enough, he’d bolt the other direction. I sensed the confusion about his own actions, and opened the door wider, allowing him to push past me into my apartment. He noticed the gauze, and the open wound, and raised an eyebrow. 

“I was changing the gauze, sorry.” I said, explaining the sight on my kitchen table. He immediately took a step towards the table, picking up the bandages. “Let me help.” He said, quietly, motioning for me to sit down. 

I found myself sitting, out of pure habit of obeying him, but still shook my head. 

 “Dr Reid, no, it’s fine.” He quickly shook his head, mirroring my previous actions,  already beginning to take my arm, his light touches on my bare skin shooting a shiver up my spine. This was noticeable to him, him immediately retracting his hand. 

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” He asked, softly. 

I found myself shaking my head. “No, no. Sorry. Just. Continue.” I said, trying to get the words out without looking at him. I suddenly remembered the strangeness of this situation, and forced myself to calm down as he began to carefully wrap the bandages around my injury, swallowing and looking up. 

“Dr Reid, why are you here?” I asked, carefully. I made sure that my tone was neutral, not trying to express displeasement, but still a bit confused about his intentions here. 

“You took a bullet for me.” He replied, simply, as if that explained why he was in my apartment, looming over me as he tenderly wrapped gauze over my arm, looking at me with the gentlest gaze I’d ever seen on him. I sighed, locking eyes with him. “I know, but-” He interrupted. “No, (Y/N), you don’t know.” 

Immediately, the rage returned to my eyes, the months of dismissal I’d faced from him flooding back in a moment, and those emotions came to full light in that moment. my brows furrowed, my face turning sour. “Oh, I don’t know, Spencer?” I said, sneering at him. “Am I too young, too stupid, too inexperienced for you?” I question, sarcastically. “Am I so dumb, that I wasn’t aware of what I was doing when I stepped in front of you?!” I say, my voice practically yelling at him now. 

“Yes.” He whispered, dangerously close. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Yes. You weren’t aware.” He says, repeats, softer this time. “It’s the only way any of this makes sense. That.. that you were so unaware, so blinded that you weren’t thinking when you stepped in front of me.” He said, quietly, remaining just as close as before. 

“I wasn’t.” I said, firmly, my brows still furrowed but the tension slowly left my face, being replaced with a softness. 

“Why did you do it then?” He said, dropping his gaze as he began to focus more on the bandages. “I haven’t been very forthcoming with you since you’ve begun your time at the BAU.” 

“Ah, so you’ve noticed.” I said, trying to make humor of the situation, but it came out a bit more breathless and dry. I was aware of the intimacy of the situation, and it seemed my body was catching up. I could physically feel the way my cheeks were heating up, and how they were close enough that I could see every breath that exhaled from his lips. How, despite everything, I still desperately wanted to kiss him at that moment. 

I couldn’t be crazy, when he secured the bandages and slowly trailed his eyes over my figure, sitting in front of him. I saw the same desire I felt, reflected in his eyes, and I found myself biting my lip. What the fuck was going on?

“So why’d you do it?” He repeated, still looking at me. 

“It felt natural, I..” I trailed off, trying to find the words to explain what I had felt in that split-second, but instead went with the simplest retelling my brain could manage, considering how close he was. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” I said, looking at him. “I.. I care about you.” 

I felt stupidly vulnerable. His breath fanned over my face, and I bit my lip. I waited for him to say something, anything, staring anxiously at his face. 

“I’m a good profiler, you know.” He says, softly. 

I  chuckle a little at this, moving away so the tension can be relieved. “Trust me, I’m reminded of that every day.” I said, feeling like the distance between them was now more manageable, allowing me to talk.

But in a moment, he closed that distance to its predecessor, just as close as they were a moment ago. “You learn a lot about body language. Not just by learning to profile, but through years of experience. It just comes naturally, reading people. You can’t really turn it off. It’s like trying to forget how to breathe.” I hung onto his every word, and found my breath hitching when he directed his monologue to me. 

He gently inquires, “Do you understand?” 

I nod, looking up at him, as he inches closer. 

“So I hope you’ll understand and not take offense when I say I’ve been profiling you.” He pauses.  “Would you like to know what I’ve found out?” He says, looking right into my eyes at this point. 

My brain is screaming at me to say no, to not take the bait that he was dangling right in front of me, and to not cross that line tonight. Because, surely, that’s where this was going. I had a sneaking suspicion that the man in front of me was going to ruin me, if I let him. 

Instead, I ignore the instinct and intuition I normally rely on, and nod. “What did you find out, Dr Reid?” I responded, a bit shakier than I wanted to sound. 

“Your pupils dilate when I come near you. It’s an involuntary response, but I notice it every time. I’ve seen it in low and heavy lighting, the only commonality in both those situations being that we were in some proximity to each other.” His voice was low, and seductive, something I’d never heard from him before. 

“Your heart rate.” He murmurs, slowly picking up my wrist and pressing a thumb to the pulse point. “This isn’t exactly the best way to measure heart rate.” He explains, “My thumb. It carries its own pulse that can make it hard to distinguish between mine and yours. But right now, (Y/N)?” He mumbles. “I can tell. Because your pulse is going crazy right now. It’d be hard to miss.”  He said, with a low chuckle.

And he’s right, I can feel my heart getting faster with every second he speaks to me, in that hushed tone that seems to be driving me crazy. 

“It’s not just tonight. I’ve noticed it since the day you walked in.” He whispers, getting closer to my ear, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Since you brought that terrible coffee, actually.” 

I pulled back, letting out a noise that was both composed of surprise and amusement. “Oh come on, it was not that bad.” 

“It was, but I can tell you tried.” He said, a small smirk playing on his face. “It was cute.” He said, now taking the time to brush some hair out of my face. It all happened quickly, his gaze tender and soft, before he captured my lips in a swoon-worthy kiss, pressing himself against me. I quickly melted into the kiss, letting out a satisfied sigh as I gripped his forearm, before rising from the chair as he slowly guided me to my couch. I let out a nervous laugh as my knees hit the cushions, tumbling a bit as I fell onto the soft pillows. He immediately pulled back, breathless, looking at me worriedly. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He murmured softly, kissing me again, a bit more gentle so I could murmur a soft “no” against his lips. 

“Good.” He growled, positioning himself above me on the couch,  beginning to press hot kisses down my neck, eventually reaching my exposed sternum, and looking up at me through hooded lids for implicit consent to continue, to which I nodded, feverishly. 

“Please.” I whispered, hoarsely. 

He took no time in obliging my request, rising a bit to remove the fabric of my shirt in one, clean swoop and continuing his assault on my chest, leaving open-mouthed kissed, eventually switching to nips and playful bites, as he sucked marks into the swell of my breasts, leaving me letting out delighted sighs and soft moans, which only seemed to encourage him to go lower. I arched my back, screwing my eyes shut, until he felt him stop, and come back to my neck. 

He murmured against me, close to my ear. I could feel his lips slowly brush the sensitive skin between my ear and neck, barely giving me any real stimulation, but it was enough to drive me crazy anyway. 

“Keep your eyes open, baby.” He whispers. “I want to see every part of your pretty face when I do this.” He says, returning lower again, leaving little kisses everywhere he could possibly go with his lips. I opened my eyes on command, watching as he went lower and lower, before finding the button on my jeans, slowly undoing them with nimble fingers and moving them off  my legs. I could imagine them so vividly inside me, expertly guiding me to pleasure in a way that mine couldn’t. But right now, if I wasn’t fucked senseless by him right now, I’d just about lose my mind. 

“Spencer.” I whispered, breathlessly. “I need you.” I breathed out. “Please.” 

“You need me to do what?” He asked, smirking as he already began to undo his own belt. 

“Spencer.” I repeated, firmly, not wanting to say the words. 

“Say it.” He says, in a much more commanding tone. 

“Spencer..” I repeat, breathing out again. “Fuck. I need-” I waver on the words, biting my lip. “I need you to fuck me. Now.” 

His smirk turns into a grin of satisfaction and pride, capturing my lips in yet another passionate kiss. “Mm. Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He says, cockily. I whined against his lips, tacitly begging him to just get on with it and he chuckles, moving off of my mouth. 

“Alright. I get it.” He says, moving his lips downwards again, his lips brushing against my underwear, as he began to remove that fabric as well. He nearly moaned when he saw just how wet I really was. It was a bit embarrassing, just from a few touches and words, but it was hard to care when I felt his tongue right on my core, beginning to lap at the hot flesh, reducing me to moans as I knotted my fingers into his hair, arching my back and bucking my hips to feel more of his ministrations. He seemed to understand, hooking his strong arms under my thighs, firmly planting me to the couch we were currently on, continuing. I could feel his moans against me, sending vibrations that only heightened my arousal in that moment. As if that was even possible. 

And then it was, because I heard him murmur against me.“You taste-” he paused, using his tongue to lap up more of my arousal. “So fucking good.” He finished, beginning to now harshly flick at my clit, which caused an entirely new slew of sensations. I recognized my end was fast approaching, and I tugged on his hair, unable to form the words as the white-hot pleasure overtook me quickly, he seemed to understand this without a word, nursing me through my orgasm as my thighs shook around him and he held my hips down. Even then, he didn’t stop, continuing to flick his tongue, lapping up my arousal until I had to physically push him away with a soft groan. “Spencer.. It’s too much.” Even then, he continued, reducing me to nothing but moans, and I heard him whisper. “Come on. One more. Please.” The words unintentionally caused a flutter in my stomach, and in record time I was being pushed towards my second orgasm in a matter of 5 minutes.

His mouth was clearly so much better at this than arguing. 

I felt him lap up the last bit of my arousal, looking up at me with a glistening chin, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was the most erotic sight in the world at that moment. The man that had questioned me at every turn, now in between my legs. He gave a smirk, moving up and giving me a rough kiss, and I didn’t hesitate to moan in his mouth when I could taste myself on his tongue. He smiled as he broke the kiss, caressing my cheek with one of his hands. His thumb moved along the smooth expanse of my cheeks. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, gently, concern in his eyes. 

I couldn’t help but break out into a dazed smile, nodding, a thin cover of sheen over my body, where I was still breathing heavily. “Yeah. I’m good.” 

“Good.” He breathed out. “I’m not stopping.” 

“I don’t want you to stop,” was my response, his shirt coming off before I’d even finished my sentence. 

I watched in fascination as he undid his belt, the very sound of it filling me with anticipation and desire. I could feel myself getting more aroused by the second, despite my previous two orgasms. I wanted him, I wanted this so badly. 

I felt him position himself over me, and feeling the head of his arousal run through my folds. I let out a breathy groan, as I felt him push into me. He let out a moan of his own, shutting his eyes. “You feel.. So fucking good.” 

I whimpered slightly as my body adjusted to him and his size. He was so big, and I’d never felt full like this before. He noticed this and placed a gentle kiss against my lips, watching my face as it contorted in pleasure and pain. As the pain began to subside, I looked up at him nodding. 

“Move, please.” I begged, the desperation evident in my voice.

He took no time in obeying my request, beginning to slowly thrust in and out of me. I moaned, feeling his cock stretch me and fill me up in a way I had never been full before. A pleasant sensation bloomed through my lower abdomen, and I could feel him bury his head into my shoulder as he pushed into me, my walls clenching on his length with every movement he gave. He pressed wet kisses into my neck, and I moaned happily at the feeling. In an instant, I could feel him fucking me desperately, placing both of his hands on either side of my face. I could feel my jaw drop, and no sound came out. I was being hurdled towards my third orgasm of the night and it was all at the behest of the man in front of me, plowing into me like it was his job. 

I moaned loudly, my legs wrapping around his waist in an attempt to keep him buried in my deepest point, feeling my release creeping up on me. 

“Sp-Spencer..” I groaned, attempting to alert him of my impending orgasm, but he simply swooped down, kissing me roughly, which only caused me to moan into his mouth. 

“I know, baby.” He whispered, in a deliciously dark tone. “Come for me, baby. Wanna feel you make a mess all over my cock.” 

It took no more provocation from there, as I felt my hips buck up once more and my thighs shake. I came with a loud moan of his name, my free hand gripping onto him and leaving scratches I knew wouldn’t go away for a while. 

My release seemed to spur him on, the wetness allowing him to fuck into me harder. I watched the man above me lose all control, and it was beautiful. He grunted a bit, and I could feel his hips stutter, chasing after his orgasm. 

“Please, Spencer.” I begged. “Fill me up, I need to feel you come inside me.” I whispered. 

It didn’t take long after that, after a particularly hard thrust, a warmness filled me at my hilt and Spencer nearly collapsed over me. He gave me a kiss, murmuring into the skin of my neck. “So perfect, so fucking perfect for me.” 

I smiled at the praise, biting my lip. I let my hand traverse over his back, drawing figures into the warm skin. I looked at the man laying on my sternum, looking absolutely fucked out despite being the one to give me three orgasms tonight. “Perfect, you say?” I teased. 

He looked up at me, kissing my lips softly, before mumbling against them, “Mm. Perfect.” 

I had a sneaking suspicion the next time we were at work, and he’d have something to say about my work, (because he always did), it wouldn’t take long to have him whispering sweet nothings to me in an instant, just like he was now. At least I could do something right on the first try.

hi!! this is my first fanfiction i've written since i was literally in middle school. spoiler. far from middle school right now. leave a comment, reblog, like, whatever! i had fun writing this. my ask box should be open for more requests? if anyone would like. anyway! hope u enjoyed!! :3

[roosterr]

white flag ✹ ch 4

note: i had to rewrite this chapter TWICE. im sick of it so pls enjoy. also forgot to mention on here that I have been away this week on a little holiday. didn't stop me writing tho lol.

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 2.3k

no use of y/n

readers callsign is 'stingray'

summary: while you're gone on a mission, ghost has time to ponder your relationship, and comes to a long awaited realisation

warnings: ghost's pov, mentions of blood and injury, lil bit of angst

ao3

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ghost never knew how to feel about you.

at first, he really did hate you; you were the bright-eyed new recruit with seemingly endless optimism, he simply couldn't help but be annoyed by you. honestly, he half expected you to tap out a week into the job. you were just so… normal, he found it hard to believe you were cut out for this line of work.

of course, he trusted price's decision to hire you, and deep down ghost knew he wouldn't have recruited you if he didn't think you could handle it, but he looked down on you anyway. it didn't matter how good price thought you were, you'd have to earn ghost's respect.

it was infuriating, the way you fit so easily into the dynamic of the team. they all liked you right off the bat, even the captain, who was notoriously hard to impress. he observed you from afar, watching how you easily broke down their walls and fell into place next to them like it was nothing.

if he was honest with himself, he might have even called it jealousy. it seemed that everything was so natural to you; everything that he struggled with, you did with such ease you made it look like child's play. he especially hated the way you could just be a person. you didn't lock up every time someone spoke to you, you didn't need to sit with a visual on every available exit, and you didn't need to analyse every person you met in the fear that the second you turn your back they'll stab you in it.

you pissed him off, but what was worse than anything else about you, is that ghost had to fight with himself not to like you too.

it was the first time he got sent on an assignment with you that he began to understand why everyone seemed to get along with you so well. the ruthless efficiency with which you did your job was almost shocking to see. he couldn't have predicted how well the two of you worked together; like a well oiled machine, by the end of the mission he didn't even need to communicate verbally, you could just tell what his next move would be.

he finally understood why price fought so hard to get you on the one-four-one – and he finally found it in himself to respect you.

but that didn't change the way he felt about you beyond the field. you were soft, too kind, and too optimistic, you weren't hardened by the job like him. so he went out of his way to be tougher on you than he was with the others, and he rationalised it by telling himself he was helping you; that without a little toughening up, this world would break you, and for some reason, he couldn't stand the thought of that.

when you started to resent him back, it made his stomach feel heavy in a way he'd never felt before. it was new, and uncomfortable, and it scared him. he wasn't sure when he first noticed it, but it only got worse when he came to the realisation that you didn't care for him like you did for gaz and soap.

you could joke around so easily with them, but you go quiet when he enters the room. you never meet his eyes, and make sure to never be physical with him. when he addresses you over comms, you answer with a quick 'yes sir' and that's the end of it. ghost would never admit it, but the distance between you hurt – even if it was by design. 

as he lay awake that night, he thought about what it would be like if you treated him the same way you treated the others. he couldn't stop the tiny smile that pulled at his lips as he imagined laughing with you, sitting next to you, touching you.

he imagined you, taking his calloused hand into your own, so gentle and kind like you always were, and the way his pulse skyrocketed scared him into staying up the rest of the night.

after that, the way he saw you changed. where he used to think you were soft – and therefore weak – instead he saw the way you chose to be kind. when once your constant jokes with the others was an inability to take things seriously, now it was your specialty way to keep up morale, and ghost actually found himself chuckling at a few of your quips.

it was like his entire perspective had shifted, everything about you that used to annoy him gradually became something he appreciated about you.

it took him a while, but he finally came to the conclusion that he… liked you. 

but it was bittersweet, because he already knew you didn't want him, and he doubted you ever would. you'd never see him in the same light, he'd ruined his chances before he even knew he wanted one.

maybe it was for the best, though. you deserved better, someone who would treat you right, someone normal. he already knew you didn't want him, and he could never blame you for that. people like you don't fall in love with people like him, that's just the way it is.

so he resigns himself to burying the feelings he harbours for you. you never had to find out, if you did you'd surely be disgusted by someone like him being interested in you. he couldn't handle rejection like that, not from you.

when price told him he'd have to take you in when your house burned down, he was fucking terrified. it shook him to his core, how much he liked the idea of the two of you living under the same roof. he did his best to avoid you, leave you in peace like he assumed you wanted; but you – wonderful, kind you – wouldn't just leave him to his misery.

you were being nice to him, and he couldn't figure out why. he assumed it was because he was doing you a favour by letting you stay with him; he couldn't even trick himself into believing that you might be doing it because you liked him.

every night, he'd go back to that fantasy of existing with you, by your side instead of at arm's length. you were so close, just a single door separating you, his hands started sweating every time he passed by the living room.

he knew he was a goner the morning you woke up before him. he'd scarcely ever seen you in a casual setting, but walking into the kitchen and being greeted by you sitting at the table, the domesticity of it all hit him like a bullet to the chest.

it was exactly what he wanted, and it scared the shit out of him, so he panicked. he needed to stay away from you, for your own good, so he did what the ghost does best.

he ran away.

he didn't even consider what you'd think, he just had to get away, before he said something he'd end up regretting.

when you came through the door, soaking wet, and laid into him – which he knew he deserved – he immediately regretted leaving you behind. seeing you cry, knowing it was because of him, it made him feel sick. he knew he never wanted you to feel that heartache again, especially if it was because of him.

he'd give anything to start again with you, go back to the beginning and do it all right this time, but the only thing he could do was try and make up for what he'd put you through.

the hot chocolate was a peace offering; he knew you loved it – he even knew about the stash you had of it hidden in price's office, away from the other soldiers. he half expected you to just tell him to piss off, but when you accepted it, he felt his heart soar.

it ignited a spark of hope within him. more than anything, he just wanted you to like him, it didn't matter if you never saw him the way he wanted you to.

he intended on waking you up the next evening, before he left for the pub, but when he saw how peaceful you looked while you slept, he couldn't bring himself to disturb you. 

you stayed with gaz and soap most of the night, and he spent the night watching you from the bar and dimly lit corners, assuring himself that you were okay. when it came time to drag you home with him, he had never been so nervous. taking care of people was the exact opposite of his strong suit, especially when they started crying at him.

he almost couldn't believe his ears when you said you liked him.

he'd dragged you home with an arm wrapped around your waist, his head feeling light as a feather. by all accounts, he should've been annoyed at having to look after you in your inebriated state, but he found himself smiling under his mask the whole way home – even when you almost threw up on him.

when you rested your head on his shoulder on the bathroom floor, he might've actually short-circuited. all thoughts except for you evacuated his mind, and a wonderfully warm feeling blossomed in his chest that made his stomach flutter like never before.

he came so close to spilling his guts to you, but then he remembered that you were drunk, and you most likely wouldn't remember it if he did. so he resigned himself to tucking you into bed with an uncharacteristically gentle touch.

the next day, sitting on that park bench with you, laughing with you like he'd wanted to for so long – it was everything to him. it sent his pulse through the roof, it was complicated, and it was so pleasantly warm.

the logical part of him knew that this would only end painfully for him, but found himself willing to risk that if it meant more of these moments with you.

but of course, he'd fucked it all up at the first opportunity. he'd screamed in your face and he had yet to even apologise for it – for any of it. he felt immeasurably guilty, but he was so scared he couldn't even force himself to be around you.

even price had yelled at him for how he'd treated you. you were traumatised, you had a very real phobia as a result of the house fire, and he felt like a fucking fool for not noticing. he swore to himself he'd make it up to you, he'd grovel at your feet for the rest of his life if he had to, and if you never forgave him he still wouldn't blame you.

he regretted it – of course he did. he let his fear consume him; the fear of you getting hurt, of losing you, and not being able to do anything to save you.

almost as soon as the words had passed his lips, he realised what he was doing, he heard himself. the anger in his voice, the fearful look in your eyes as they glistened with tears, it was everything he didn't want to be.

he felt just like his–

no. he refused to even entertain that thought. he'd never be… that. you deserved so, so much better than the broken husk of man that he was. no matter what he did, he would never deserve you; and it was selfish, but he still hoped that you could somehow forgive him.

it's only been a few days since you left on that assignment for laswell, but he's found that being alone in his house didn't bring him the same comfort it used to. the silence never bothered him before, in fact he greatly preferred it, but now it just felt empty. like there was something missing, leaving a hole in the space it used to occupy.

deep down, the rational part of simon knows that it's you, of course it is, but you wanted nothing to do with him right now. he knew he had to fix things, he would never get over the hollow feeling in his chest if he didn't. that's why he was currently standing at the edge of the runway in the middle of the night, watching the ramp of the helo lower to reveal you, gaz, and the captain.

you looked shattered, like you hadn't slept for days – which was probably true – and he was suddenly overcome with the urge to gather you into his arms and not let go. he wondered if the remnants of dried blood that were visible on your hands and face were yours.

he felt his heart rate pick up as you made your way closer to him, his icy stare softening when he sees how you drag your feet across the tarmac.

when you were close enough, he reached his hand out to grasp your arm, opening his mouth to speak, but he never makes contact.

you sidestep him, and he feels his heart break in his chest. any words he was planning on saying die on his tongue as he turns to watch you slip through the doors without a hint of acknowledgement to him.

price gives him a rough pat on the shoulder as he and gaz pass by. "fix it, simon." he murmurs, before disappearing through the doors as well, leaving him alone outside the building.

he will fix it – he'd do whatever it takes because simon doesn't just need you, he's come to the alarming conclusion that he loves you – he just has no idea how.

taglist p1: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @ghostslittlegf , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna ,

@cathnoneofyourbusiness , @madsothree , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @aliilium , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev , @clear-your-mind-and-dream , @thrivig-n-jiving , @lesterous , @glitterypirateduck , @slu77ym4nw415ts , @livelaugh-light , @trulylavendedarling , @stateofcatatonia , @rivalriotrenegade , @yoichiislovie , @nirvanaaaonly , @ameliaamareeee , @batmanunicorns523 , @sapientiia , @thesecretwriter , @susanmukami , @ryze1113 , @stars-andfreckles , @spya1 , @tunaa-luvchrm , @tzutology , @kuruksenshi

if your name is crossed out, i can't tag you for whatever reason, sorry! ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

This Is Where You Stand With Me

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: none

A/N: pls read this for better understanding thanksss!!

Sooo once upon a time, a few months ago actually, I started writing a Charles fanfic - never finished it - I had a reeeally good story in mind, wrote around 20 chapters and then I just got bored of it, BUT! I wrote some really good pieces that I'd be sorry no one ever read so I thought I'd post them. Actually I've already posted one part of the story that comes waay later than the ones I'm gonna post now, but anyway it's the one called Lovers .

Basically, it's a story about a girl (you) who broke up with her boyfriend of five years. She was very unhappy in the relationship because her boyfriend didn't treat her right all those years and then after she gathered her strength and broke up with him, she decided to live a little and go visit her best friend Sophie in Monaco. Sophie has been in a relationship with Carlos for a while, and his teammate Charles is in a relationship with a girl (Ava) who isn't with him for the right reasons and doesn't really care about him. due to a combination of circumstances, you stayed in Monaco to live in Sophie's apartment and started running social networks for Ferrari, filming behind the scenes and similar things. From the very beginning, you and Charles have a love-hate relationship. He keeps sending you mixed signals and you never know where you're standing with him.

Ok, hope you'll like it, let me know if you'd even like to read more parts! Bye!

This is the part where you, Carlos, Sophie, Kika, Pierre, Charles and Lando are on the yacht. Sophie introduces you to all of them here for the first time and you're very nervous about it so you drink a bit too much..

Y/N's POV

Carlos, Sophie and I were the first ones to arrive. Their firends, Pierre and his girlfirend Kika, Charles and his girlfriend Ava, and I guess the only single friend Lando, arrived shortly after us. For me, the biggest introvert on the planet, this was quite a large number of people to meet at once and I did feel very anxious.

Luckily there was a vast amount of drinks on the yacht so I found mine tranquilizers - cranberry vodka and sangria. As soon as the alcohol started coursing through my system, I soon opened up a topic to talk about with everyone. Well, almost everyone. Charles and his girlfriend Ava seemed to have some disagreements so they weren't really in the best mood. She looked like she didn't really wanna be here and he was annoyed that she didn't wanna be here at least that's what I heard when I was going to the toilet because they were alone inside and arguing.

The evening went on with us all sitting in the lounge area, talking and drinking. I was truly having so much fun and I got along the most with Lando. He's so sweet and caring and funny, I was enjoying his company. Eventually Ava left. She was able to leave since we didn't set sail but stayed in the marina. Charles was fuming that she left. When Carlos asked him why she left he said she made arrangements with her friends earlier, he didn't want to talk about it much. Charles went on the upper lounge area and Lando went after him so he wasn't alone and I stayed with Carlos, Sophie, Pierre and Kika in the lounge area on the main deck.

"I love you." I hear Carlos quietly says to Soph while looking at her lips. She was in a half-lying position in his arms. I was scrolling through my phone across from them but I couldn't help but look at them out of the corner of my eye.

"I love you." Sophie smiles and gently kisses him. My eyes got watery at the sight of them. My heart hurt a little and for a second I wished I had what they have. I wasn't envious of them, not at all, I was actually very happy for them and for the first "I love you". But for a second the excitement about the single life passed me and looking at the couples I felt a little lonely.

I get up from the couch and head towards the back of the yacht were was the entrance to the inner part of the yacht. I lean my elbows on the fence and look down at the sea.

Did I make a good decision?

Should i have given us another chance?

Will i regret giving up on us?

Suddenly questions that I constantly avoid facing start to roll around in my head.

No! Of course I made a good decision, he doesn't deserve another chance and I'm not gonna regret anything!

I attribute those thoughts to the excessive amount of alcohol I've consumed since we got here.

Y/n, you were miserable with him, pull yourself together please, you are stronger than these thoughts. I say to myself, but one tear escapes from my eye. And then another one. And one after that.

"Shit.." I breathe out putting my palms over my eyes.

"What happened, Y/n?" A voice asks and it startles me.

"Oh, you scared me." I say looking at Charles standing beside me, but quickly look away wiping the tears from my cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" Charles asks looking at me.

"Too many drinks led me to a moment of weakness. That's all." I say not really wanting to talk to him about my emotional state.

"And what is the reason behind that moment of weakness?" He asks.

"I don't feel like talking about it, but I was wondering how long have you and Ava been together?" I suddenly blurt out turning to look at him. My mind is racing. I was curious about their fight because the way he looked at her, he seemed like he's really in love, but her, not so much according to my estimate.

"A year and a half now. Why do you ask?"

"Sweet. And why did you fight today?" I ask shamelessly and he rises his eyebrows at my question.

"Not that it's any of your business, but-" Just as he was about to say something a strong pain shoots through my stomach. Rocking of the yacht from the waves together with cranberry vodka and sangria equals nausea.

"Oh no.. I-I think I'm gonna throw up.." And just in that moment as I lean over the fence it starts shooting right out of me.

I was hoping that somehow I would be able to control myself and not throw up in front of him, but it was stronger than me. And honestly if I were sober, I would be ten times more embarrassed than I am now.

"Oh come on." He sighs and to my surprise he moves my hair out of my face holding it back. "Please don't fall over, I'm not jumping in for you."

"Oh my God, I'm gonna die.."

"Out of embarrassment? Yeah, I would too if I were you." Charles mocks me, but still holds my hair.

"Oh give me a break, I'm going through a breakup!" I manage to say bitterly because of his lack of understanding for me. As if he should understand me. he doesn't know anything about me except my name, and I don't know anything about him either except that his name is Charles and that he has a girlfriend with whom he had a not so pretty fight today.

"Did he leave you because you were a drunk?" He continues with his provocation.

"Ha ha, not that it's any of your business, but I broke up with him." I'm being sassy like I didn't just throw up in front of a rich and hot F1 driver, but in that moment that fact doesn't phase me one bit.

"Okay, if you say so." He laughs. "Come here, sit on this couch please." I can't help but notice his hand tightly being wrapped around my waist as he leads me to the couch. "Not that I care, but I'm so bored that I'll listen to why you broke up with your boyfriend."

"Well, now I'm not gonna tell you." I cross my arms acting childish making him laugh again. I roll my eyes and chuckle a little myself.

"Y/n? Where are you?" Right in that moment Sophie shows up breaking the sweet moment between the two of us.

"Your friend is running wild over here, she wanted to throw herself off the yacht because her boyfriend left her." Charles says getting up from the couch and my mouth falls open.

"What?!" Sophie's eyes go wide. "Throw yourself because of him? Are you out of your fucking mind?" She asks in complete shock.

Before saying anything to Sophie to calm her down I follow Charles with my eyes as he leaves laughing.

"He's lying of course, I got sick from the alcohol and threw up."

"Why is he suddenly being all smiley like that? Until a little while ago he was furious because of Ava?"

"I don't know, he obviously has issues." I shrug with my shoulders wanting to laugh but manage to control myself.

I'm usually very good at reading people at first glance. Whoever doesn't make a good impression on me in the beginning, whoever doesn't sit well with me, almost always turns out to not have the best personality. Unfortunately, it rarely happens that someone pleasantly surprises me if I don't like them at first. I could say that my intuition is very good and accurate and I really should listen to it more often.

But with Charles that wasn't the case. I couldn't read him at all. He's kinda mysterious, he seems a bit cocky and conceited, but gentle and caring at moments. At least that's what I think I got from today.

He's interesting though.

Part 2 here

[ace-turned-confused]

whatever you want | joel miller x f!reader

summary: date night for you and Joel but we skip to the good part xoxo word count: 3,2k warnings: 18+ only, POV changes (i tried my best pls be nice), no plot in sight, reader has no physical descriptions other than clothing, established relationship, pet names, smut, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, butt stuff, spitting, creampie, praise kink, panty kink, size kink, Joel’s filthy mouth a/n: this is the first thing i've written that's actually made it out the doc before being trashed forever - big thanks to my irl bestie for her continuous words of encouragement <3 this is very mildly edited because i'll hate it if i keep trying to improve it ✌️ i'd appreciate any feedback! again pls be nice thank you love you okay bye divider by @saradika-graphics

You've been looking forward to this all week — date night with Joel. You usually stick to something simple, going out for a cosy dinner or just deciding to cook together at home — but he always ensures it’s a memorable night in one way or another, and tonight is no exception.

He suggested to you earlier in the week, lying in bed, “How ‘bout this time you pick out something for me to wear? Hm?” It had your mind racing with ideas, thinking about all the possibilities now presented to you. 

You glance at him, “So what’s in it for you, then?”

“No ulterior motive here, sweetheart,” he puts his palms up near his face and smirks, “You always look pretty for me, I just thought I’d return the favour.”

“Hm, that’s a big decision,” you mutter with a playful smile.

You’re well aware of what Joel loves seeing you wear — he’s always loved anything you wear, to be frank, racy or not — and decided to pose a deal to him, something you knew you’d both benefit from.

“I may have some ideas. Why don’t we make a deal, then?” you inch closer to him and play with a stray lock of his hair. “You do something for me, and I’ll do something for you.” Your eyes meet and you can tell he’s trying to figure out the game you’re playing.

“And what would that entail?” he asks, a hint of cockiness in his voice, impressed by your unusual boldness. You remove your hand from his hair and drape your arm over him.

“Will you wear that red shirt again… with the sleeves rolled up?” you ask shyly, trailing your fingers up and down his side.

“Sure will,” he says, still smirking. You’re only getting more breathless the longer this goes on, and you haven't even made your whole point yet.

“And… those black pants of yours…?”

“Which ones, sweetheart? I got a lot of black pants,” he remarks, feigning innocence and a cheeky lilt to his voice. “You know which ones,” you mutter, your hand stilling.

He shifts closer until you’re pressed against each other and whispers, “Don’t think I do, you’re gonna have to tell me.”

You huff, annoyed at him for teasing you like this, and at yourself for getting turned on by his games. “The tight-fitting, black—”

“That’s not what you really want to say, though, is it? Tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours,” he interrupts, and you shiver.

You look down at his chest, unable to make eye contact with him and pray he doesn’t notice how your cheeks redden as you whisper back, “Those black pants that everyone can see how big you are, those pants, I want you to wear them.”

He skims a hand up your back, “See? Was that so difficult?” he asks rhetorically, and you can practically hear his teasing smile and visualise the dark glint that you know will be in his eyes. “And what shoes should I wear, you know, to tie the whole look together?”

“You know very well I couldn’t care less what fucking shoes you wear,” you chirp back at him, forcing yourself to look him in the eye again.

Satisfied with your answer, he plants his hand on the small of your back, caressing you gently with his thumb, “You mentioned some kind of deal?”

If he hadn’t brought it up again you’re not sure you would’ve remembered at all. You’ll always be amazed by how calm he is after derailing a conversation and making you so flustered.

You close your eyes, mentally shake yourself, and start your bargaining, “Well, I promise to wear the laciest panties I own—” you look at him sweetly through your lashes, “—if you promise to keep your clothes on. And you can, you know, do whatever you want.” It comes out far breathier than you were planning, but it’s out. “With me, to me, you know. Whatever.” 

He raises his eyebrows slightly, voice lowered, “Whatever I want, hm? And all I have to do is stay dressed? Quite the deal there.”

-

Joel’s made himself comfortable in his chair, eyes trained on you in the doorway. Sitting here now, the night’s only just beginning and you’re already like putty in his hands. He noticed hours ago your eyes had glazed over, and he’s been growing harder and harder ever since in anticipation.

“What’re you thinking about, sweetheart?” he asks, and your gaze refocuses on him.

“You,” you reply, sweet and simple.

He does a once-over, taking in your flowery, strappy top and neat little black slip-skirt that falls just above your knees and hugs your hips beautifully — your hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt and you’re shifting your weight side to side.

He smiles softly and suggests, “Why don’t you show me those pretty panties you promised to wear?” and you nod gently, moving slowly further into the room.

Much more confident and comfortable in your own skin than when you took your clothes off for him the first time, you face Joel and lift your gaze to meet his. You reach behind your back to unzip your top and lift it over your head, dropping it to the floor. Pushing your thumbs beneath your waistband, you peel your skirt over your hips and hunch forward slightly, letting it pool around your feet. Standing at your full height again, he takes all of you in — clad in lace, black bra and lilac panties.

He widens his legs and curls a finger, beckoning you forward and you stand between his knees. Joel rests his hands on your hips, thumbing the lace over your hipbones.

“Where’ve you been hiding these?” he looks up at you and sees heat blooming across your chest and up your neck.

“I, um… I’ve been saving them, for uh—“ you stutter, and he can see you start second-guessing your choice. Breathing shallowly, you murmur, “Do you not like them?”

He smiles at you, still playing with the lace, “I love them, sweetheart. You know I always do.” He lowers his gaze down to your panties again, eyes trailing across the fabric, and he doesn’t miss how you press your legs together, seeking any sort of relief.

He pushes against your hip to turn you around, and almost can’t believe how you’ve both ended up here. You, dressed in your best lace just for him, ready and willing to do as he says? You’d clearly been wanting to do this for some time now, but Joel would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited, too. He kneads the swell of your ass, fingers toying with the lacy edges and hears you breathing deeply again.

“So, whatever I want?”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder and reply under your breath, “Yes.”

He turns you around to face him, hands still on your hips. He looks up at you again, “You okay?” and squeezes his hands.

“Yeah,” and you nod, smiling down at him.

“Well, you did such a good job picking these panties all on your own, sweetheart, I think maybe you need a reward,” he darts his tongue out and drags his hands along your thighs, resting his arms down and leaning back in his chair. “First, though, you’re gonna show me just how good you can be, okay? C’mon, on your knees.”

You lower yourself, getting comfortable between his legs, your eyes lingering on his bulge before looking up at him. He nods towards his lap and you start undoing his pants, palming him through the fabric. Reaching into his boxer briefs and wrapping your hand around his length, you stroke him a few times and pull his waistband down just enough to take him out, thick and heavy and already fully stiff in your hand. You bow your head to lick him from base to tip, hover above him and spit onto his cock, stroking him harder and smiling sweetly at him.

You start taking him into your mouth and he sighs, resting a hand on the crown of your head. “You been waiting all night for this, huh, sweetheart?”

You hum a response and he groans, watching you bob up and down, taking more and more of him each time. You pull off and continue stroking him, and he smiles at you in encouragement. You take him in your mouth again, and he feels you hollow your cheeks and take him even further, the tip of his cock just about breaching your throat and you whimper around him.

“Fuck, baby, doin’ so good,” he grunts and pulls you off. His hand moves to the nape of your neck, the other tracing over your collarbone and down over the lace of your bra, your nipples hardening through the delicate fabric. “Think you can do it?”

You nod eagerly at him, eyes glinting, hands stroking him languidly and you move to start sucking him again. He tightens his grip and stops you. “Use your words, please.”

“Yes, I can do it.” You look up at him and his hold softens.

“Good girl, go on.”

You lick the underside of his shaft and swirl your tongue around the head of his cock and take him again, working him just to the start of your throat. You’re breathing as best you can through your nose, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, lips stretched around him and brushing his wiry curls as you push even further and hold him there, fingers digging into his thighs. You start to gag and do your best not to pull off him, squirming to find any bit of friction and Joel moans at the sight, throwing his head back.

“Bein’ such a good girl, taking my cock so far down your throat, hm?” 

You moan and swallow around him, his hips jerking at the sensation and he pulls you off. “Almost too good,” he breathes, “know you’d love me coming down your throat, but not tonight.” He gives you a lopsided smile and you whine, moving back and forth on your knees.

“Stand up for me sweetheart,” and you rise, looking down at him, still catching your breath. His hands are back on you immediately, squeezing your waist, hips, ass — any part of you he can reach. He runs his fingers across your panties again, trailing them down over your covered clit and between your folds and you tilt forward into his touch.

“Soaked right through these pretty panties of yours,” he looks up to meet your gaze and there’s almost no colour to your eyes anymore, just pure blown-out pupils. He keeps rubbing his fingers along you and you whine again, clearly desperate for him to touch you properly.

He smirks up at you, “So needy just from sucking my cock.”

Joel shoves his hand under the elastic of your panties and rubs his fingers between your folds and over your entrance, coating his fingers in your arousal. He shoves two thick fingers into you without warning and you fall forward with a strangled moan, hands supporting your weight on his shoulders as he pumps his fingers in and out, your cunt tight around him.

“Always so wet for me, huh? Need me to make you feel good?” He stares at you, eyes shut and mouth hanging open as he slows his hand and you force out a yes, your voice hoarse. He speeds up again and curls his fingers into that one spot he knows you can’t reach with your own hand, brushing over it again and again, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit.

Your legs start trembling and he pulls his fingers out and slips them into his mouth, sucking them clean. “Taste so sweet.”

He moves his legs between yours and pulls you towards him and down onto his lap, guiding your hips back and forth over his length, precome leaking from his tip. He leans forward, “You gonna keep these on while you sit on my cock, yeah?” and tugs on the waistband of your panties, letting the elastic snap back against your skin. You nod frantically in response and lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him haphazardly. He licks into your mouth and moans into you, hands firmly gripping your ass.

You rise slightly and he takes hold of his cock, stroking himself and pulls your panties to one side. He lines himself up with your entrance and you start to sink down, eyes screwing shut at the stretch. He holds you by the waist, your hands like a vice grip on his shoulders and it takes everything in him not to pull you down and make you take him to the hilt. You take your time working him in, inch by inch, and Joel can tell how close you are already, your broken moans getting louder and louder.

You’re fully seated and he takes a hand off his shoulder, plants a kiss on your knuckles and guides it between your bodies, spreading your fingers around where he’s splitting you open. “You feel how stretched you are, baby?” You gasp and he leans towards you and lifts his hand to grip across your chin, mouth ghosting yours and squeezes his hand to purse your lips. 

“Open,” he orders and your lips part, spitting into your mouth and he feels you tightening around him. Pushing his index finger into your mouth, you suck and swirl your tongue around it, moaning as you lift up and down, grinding yourself onto the trail of hair at the base of his cock. Joel feels your legs starting to give out underneath you and he watches you with hooded eyes. He pulls his finger from your mouth and wraps his arms around you, hands reaching down underneath your panties to grab your ass and spread you wider. He prods his finger at your tight hole and your eyes shoot open to look at him, desperate and needy.

“You gonna come for me?” You whine and nod, almost begging him with a please, over and over again. He pushes his finger in to just past his middle knuckle and you moan out wantonly, already completely wrecked. Joel feels your cunt clamp down on his cock and you come with a sob of his name, eyes shut and face contorted in pleasure as he whispers praises in your ear.

-

At some point in your post-orgasm haze, Joel moved the two of you onto the bed — you waiting on all fours and Joel's voice breaking through from somewhere behind you.

“Did good sweetheart, always do, but I’m not done with you.” His hands are all over you, skating across and grabbing any skin he can reach. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder in search of him and notice he’s still fully dressed — well, as fully dressed as he can be — and remember that’s what got you into this position in the first place. Dishevelled greying curls, only the last couple buttons holding his shirt together, wide chest on full display, sleeves rolled up, pants and boxer briefs sitting mid-thigh, his cock, thick and hard and leaking and you clench around nothing just at the sight.

Joel’s hands are all over you, skating across and grabbing any skin he can reach. He hooks his fingers into your waistband and pulls your panties down to the tops of your thighs, placing open-mouthed kisses on the skin as it’s revealed. He spreads you with his hands and spits onto your pussy and you let out a choked moan. He drags the tip of his cock through your folds and the messy mix of arousal and spit and your last orgasm. You feel him notch at your entrance again, and he sheaths himself fully inside your cunt in one thrust, all but punching the air from your lungs and he groans. You feel the swell of his tummy pressed against you and his fingers digging into your ass as he spreads you open. “Look so beautiful like this, wish you could see it.”

He leans over you, breathing into your neck, “Always take my cock so well, baby.” He pulls out almost completely, snapping his hips back into you and you can already feel heat pooling at the base of your spine again as he pounds into you, fingers gripping your hips so hard he’s bound to leave bruises. He snakes a hand underneath you to rub your clit and you feel your legs start to tremble.

All you can think is Joel Joel Joel, and his voice cuts through the ringing in your ears, husky and breathless. “You gonna give me one more, yeah? Come for me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come on my cock,” and you all but see stars behind your eyes, overwhelmed with the sweet praise. He stills as you come, his hands and affirming words keeping you grounded as you clench and gush around him.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you up flush against him, your head falling back onto his shoulder and you’re not sure you can form words anymore, your chest heaving as you try to get your breathing back to normal. You turn your head towards him and he kisses you surprisingly gently.

“Can you be good just a bit longer?” He starts grinding his hips into you and you whine, your hands coming up to hold his arms. “Always such a good girl for me, hm?” He drags his mouth along the side of your neck and you nod tiredly, feeling him smile.

He starts with slow thrusts, his grip around you the sole reason you’re still upright, his voice in your ear and hot breath on your neck and the heavy, familiar, drag of his cock in and out making you dizzy.

“So fuckin’ tight around me sweetheart. Your favourite feeling, isn’t it? Being stuffed full of my cock?” He starts rambling on and you know he’s close. “You want me to come inside you? Want me to come inside your tight little pussy?”

“Yes, please. Please come inside me.”

He mumbles incoherently and you tighten your hands on his arms; his thrusts get harder and his arms stiffen in their hold around you and you feel him twitching as he starts to spill inside you, warmth coating your walls. He lowers you both to lie down as he comes down from his high, cock still buried deep inside you and you feel his spend start to leak out around him and down your thighs.

-

Shifting around and your eyes fluttering open, you’re wrapped up in Joel’s arms, head burrowed against his chest. You reach down and feel he’s cleaned you up and pulled fresh panties on you, a faint throbbing between your thighs. He stirs next to you and presses a kiss to your forehead, long and tender.

“Sorry, fell asleep,” you mumble and wrap an arm around his torso to press yourself into him even more.

He pulls back slightly, lifting your chin with a finger to look at him. “Sweetheart, think we’ve done this enough that I know you get sleepy afterwards. Stop apologising.” He cradles your cheek, kisses you sweetly and whispers, “Now go back to sleep.”

[mismatched-sockss]

Where I never dared to stand

» Pairing: purely Spencer Reid x fem!Reader [NO JEID whatsoever] » Wordcount: 4k » Warnings: JJ's POV (3rd person), based on Where I Stood by Missy Higgins, we're staying within the realms of canon with this one - this focuses on JJ's feelings and my own interpretations regarding those, spoilers mentioned for s12!Spencer and 13×01 300, heavy spoilers for 14×15 Truth or Dare, kind of for 15×02 Awakenings too (i used a part of the conversation between JJ and Reid about what happend in 14×15), reader is Garcia's college roommate & friend, no time line mentioned but first meeting of Spencer and Reader is said to happen somewhere after JJ married Will to mid s10 (so somewhere from s8×01 to about s10×12, reader and Spencer are together when s10×13 happens), no mentions of Maeve only a vague mention that the last years have been rough for Spencer), » A/N: multiple mentions about reader being a woman / female, use of she/her pronouns, no body description, no mentions of readers clothes --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general » IMPORTANT!!!: i just want to say that i hated the way the writers where forcing the climax of 14×15 through out the whole s14 both on the characters and us, and i hated just about everything about the whole thing in general tbh, (after making Will such a big part of JJ's life JEID was over and done with, i never liked them as a ship in general; just wait until i'll unleash my hate for JJ in the future (hate only regarding the way she is treating Spencer, otherwise i like her for the most part)).... the only reason this fic happened in the way it is, is because i lost track of my initial plan when i got inspiration from the song, but then i kind of got carried away while writing; i tried to capture and bring out JJ's inner conflicts, the guilt she feels about all of it etc

Jennifer Jareau liked you from the moment she saw you, no doubt about it. There was something about you, that uplifted the whole room you were in; it was hard to not be in a good mood when you were around.

Penelope had brought you along for a girl's night one evening. You had been her dorm room-mate in college and fate brought you back into each other's lives, when it just so happened that you moved into the same building she was living in. From then on, you joined them for girl's night on most occasions and it was just a matter of time until Penelope invited you to a party where not only the girls would be attending, but also the rest of the BAU team. It so happened to be Penelope's birthday party.

Everyone could see the sparks fly when Spencer and you met each other then. One look at the both of you was enough to see it; that this was a once in a life time, soulmate kind of thing. The kind of love you could only find in movies or books, the stuff all the cheesy romance movies JJ liked to watch were made of.

Something had stirred in her heart when she saw the two of you interact at Penelope's birthday party; a small ache, something she couldn't quite place at the time. So without further thinking about it, she brushed it away, forgetting all about it in the following days. That is, until the next time she saw the two of you. Together.

It was at one of Rossi's dinner parties not too long after Spencer and you met. Everyone was already accounted for in Rossi's backyard, except for Spencer. The doorbell rang and Rossi went to open the door; when he got back a big smile was plastered on his face and he was wiggling his brows suggestively. After him, Spencer walked in. With you. Holding hands.

Then and there the ache found it's way back into her heart, a little more persistent then the last time. This time she knew in an instant what it had been.

Jealousy. She couldn't stand your hands on him.

At the realization she had felt dizzy. Had it been any later in the evening she probably could have blamed the dizziness on the wine. But the glass she held in her hand was her first and she had barely nipped on it. No, it was because she was jealous, and the guilt she felt at the same time collided with it and mixed into an even bigger ugly thing that almost swept her off her feet.

Here she was, standing next to her husband and the father of her child, feeling jealous over another woman holding hands with her friend; a friend who she knew once had a thing for her, a friend who she may have had a thing for herself at one point but never even had went on a date with - actively avoided it even, if you thought about it. A friend, who she shouldn't have any feelings for that would call for her to be jealous when he got romantically involved with someone else.

A friend, she instead should be nothing less than happy for, after all the shit he had to go through in his life. She should be happy, that he finally had something good in his life, something that made him smile, something that made him happy. All she wanted was for him to be happy.

Will had commented that Spencer and you looked good together, that you made a cute couple. No matter who much that jealous part of her hated it, she had to agree.

That night at Rossi's she drank a couple more glasses of wine to flush out her confusing emotions than she maybe should have. When someone said something, she successfully played it off as being able to let go for an evening since her mother was watching Henry for the whole weekend. Luckily Will was okay with it, and even was pampering her the next day when she had a bad case of hangover.

After a short time, when JJ had sorted out her feelings, she really was happy for Spencer. So incredibly happy for him; that he had found his person. His safe haven. His forever.

And everyone could see it. That the two of you were perfect for each other.

She didn't think she had seen him this happy since... Ever, actually. Life had never been exactly easy on Spencer, but the last years had been especially rough for him. You were his rock when Gideon died, were there for him when his mom got worse and additionally stayed with her when he had to leave for a case after he took her in – oh, how much Diana loved you. You were the only person except for Spencer who she would let come close when she had an episode and was chasing the nurses away he hired. After he had been arrested in Mexico you as good as moved into his place to help (the nurse with) Diana. Whenever JJ came to visit her with the boys, she was amazed by the way you cared for Diana, so patient and understanding and affectionate, and how she would let you take care of her.

When Spencer had to go on mandatory leave after prison and the whole shit-show with Cat, JJ watched as you broke down the walls he had build around his heart in those three months he was locked away. She watched as you crumbled them down until you reached him again and then you gave him a new ground to build on, a ground back in safety and trust and love.

You broke his walls down, like JJ would never have been able to. Sometimes she wasn't sure if she could stand the fact, she just knew she should.

Back then, all those years ago when Spencer had sat down next to her on the jet with the Red Skin's tickets in his hand and asked her to go, she was scared. She knew that now, had realized it when Spencer and Penelope had been abducted by Meadows and the Messiah, when Emily spoke with her in the restroom and JJ was going crazy with worry about her best friends. Before, it had never really clicked for her, that maybe that was why she had invited Penelope to come with them to the game. Because a little voice in the back of her head had been whispering to her telling her to run, to turn away from him. She was scared of what could be, of what others might say and think.

Scared of hurting Spencer.

Deep down, she knew even back then, that she wasn't right for him.

And then, a year later, she met Will and the more serious their relationship got, the more any feelings for Spencer became platonic in nature. And it was good the way it was: working with each other, being friends. Maybe even something like best friends. It was enough.

She was happy with Will. She loved Will. She couldn't imagine life without him. The what if's and could have been's about Spencer hadn't been on JJ's mind in a very, very long time. Never really gone if she had to be honest, but not at the forefront of her thoughts all the same.

And since being honest was the keyword for today, here in this jewellery store forced with a gun pointing at her and Spencer and the other hostage, a rapid back and forth that could spiral more out of control with every passing second, the Truth she had to admit today, could change everything she had in her life.

"Truth." JJ swallowed after she said it and bit on the insides of her cheeks. Stand strong, show no fear; that was what she repeated in her head again and again, trying to fight of the raging panic that kept rising up in her chest ever since the guy had fired a warning shot in Spencer's direction just a moment ago.

"I want you to say something, you're afraid to say", the Unsub spat through gritted teeth. Saliva was pooling at the corners of his lips and the hand he was holding the gun in was shaking uncontrollably, “That you'd never tell anybody. And you better make it good!” He didn't take a step closer, he only shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but with the way he accentuated every word he was screaming with a movement of his hand, she felt like he was coming closer. Like he was placing the barrel of the gun closer to her body with every twitch, until he'd be able to press it right onto her sternum. “'Cause if it's not, it's gonna be the last thing you ever say!”

Her nostrils flared as she took a slow breath in, trying to calm her nerves enough to find an answer and to give him the answer without a waver in her voice.

“What's it gonna be?” This time when he shifted his weight, he did take a small step closer to her.

By the way her nose was aching and her eyes were burning she knew it would only be a matter of moments until the tears would fall. She blinked to keep the tears away a bit longer and avoiding eye contact with the Unsub, only looking at him for a second. When she answered, she cursed herself for how shaky her voice was. “There are only four people it trust in this world.”

“Boring”, he commented in a weird sing-sang before he pointed the weapon down and shot the Judge in the leg. The gun was immediately pointed back at JJ. “Next!”

The gunshot had drowned out the whimper she hadn't been able to hold back. And when the deadly attention was back on her, she immediately went back in to position - stand strong, show no fear. The second part almost wasn't manageable any more for her. “Uhm”, she let out, again racking her brain for an answer, something the would finally accept. What could she say? What was she willing to say?

“My, uhm.” The pained whimpers of the woman in front of her as she slowly slid down the cabinet distracted her, she wasn't sure if she was welcoming the distraction or not. JJ felt bad for even remotely feeling thankful that the woman was in pain. ���My baby, I lost, I um-”, she looked around, first meeting the Unsubs gaze, then at a random point at the wall and back to him. The emotions bubbling up in her almost choked her and she had to clear her throat. She didn't want to tell him this, but she had to. “- wanted to name her Maggie.”

“BULL!”, he screamed and JJ jumped. “Come on, you can do better than that!” Again, waving the gun, closer and closer.

Spencer tried to get his attention and pull it away from her, calling out the Unsub's name. “Casey...!”

Now the gun was pointed at Spencers head. “SHUT UP!” And again with the uncontrolled waving and twitching. JJ felt like she couldn't breathe.

She jumped again when Casey suddenly was right in front of her, forcefully grabbing into the hair at the back of her head, pushing her down to her knees with the tight grip and possibly even pulling some strands out. “Okay, okay..”, she mumbled, whimpered. What could she say?

“Last chance! Something you'd never say aloud. Not even to your partner here.” For a moment he waved his gun at Spencer again. “Your deepest, darkest secret. Impress me, or I'll kill him.”

It was the first thing that came to her mind when the Unsub demanded this, and threatened Spencer's life. It was the only thing that fought its way through the panic. The panic that had clouded her mind for anything else but the need for survival. Hers. Spencers.

She couldn't hold back her tears any more. In a desperate attempt to catch Spencer's gaze, she darted her eyes to his direction. At the same time the guilt that was already coming over her and trying to pull her down, before she even said one word and it made her look away from him.

“COME ON!”

So she said it. Hoping, it would be enough to save their lives. Hoping, her fear of losing her best friend would stay just that. A fear. Hoping, that they would walk out of here alive and that nothing would change between them. That even after saying what she was about to say, they could go on like before, that they would be okay. Selfish as it was, JJ couldn't lose him. She just didn't know who she was without Spencer in her life. Her best friend, her confidant. Her fi-... She knew she should know it, that it made no sense to feel like this. But she couldn't help needing him.

With a shy look on her face, she turned to her friend, took a deep breath.

"Spence, uhm,” she started, shooting him a pained smile to ease his nerves and her own. And he looked at her, waiting for her to continue, with a sad but still vary and concentrated shimmer in his eyes. He was sitting weidly stiff and there was ovment in his shoulders but she wasn't able to focus on anything else than his face.

Or not, because JJ had to look away. She didn't think she could say this while directly looking at him. This was just too...

“I've always loved you", she admits, helplessly shrugging her shoulder as she said it. You meant more to me than anyone I loved before you, before Will.

It took Spencer a moment to understand, what she is saying. How she meant those three words, that they had said a lot of times to each other over the years, in a platonic way.

His eyes slightly widened when the words sink in. The true meaning behind them.

“And I wasjusttooscaredtosay it before.” Her words came out in a blur, almost undistinguishable. She exhaled and looked away, shook the hair out of her face with a quick motion of her head. And as she tried to bite back her tears,she scoffed. “And now, things are just”, the sob leaving her throat almost sounded like a laugh, “far too complicated to say it now.” I am married and have kids, my kids are your godsons. You have a girlfriend, the love of your life waiting for you at home. These are the things she didn't say, didn't need to say. Didn't want to say in front of everyone else in the room.

Maybe she did laugh. The situation was so absurd, so surreal. It almost didn't feel real if there wouldn't be this gun pointed at her.

With tears running down her face she forced herself to look at Spencer. “I'm sorry”, she breathed out. “But you should know.” In case I die here. In case you die here. I had to let you know.

He didn't give away what he was thinking or feeling, had closed off the expressions on his face after the initial shock. The whisper of a sad smile stretched his lips as an acknowledgement when she stopped talking.

The giggle the Unsub let out, made the bile rise into JJ's throat.

“Hot damn”, he laughed, switching between looking at her and Spencer. “That's what I'm talking about.”

Neither of them looked up at the man standing over them, caught in a silent conversation. Did I just destroy everything? - Don't worry. At least that was what she hoped he was saying with his eyes.

“Now those are some last words right there.” Could this guy please, please, please just stop waving the god damn gun around!?

For the fracture of a second, everything fell from JJ's shoulders. The guilt, the sorrow, the fear. She did it, her confessions had been enough. Worthy of saving them. Just when the muscles in her body relaxed, the gun was pointed back right in to her face, mere inches away. “But not good enough to safe your life!” Spit landed on her face.

JJ readied herself, even with the immense fear shooting through her whole body so harsh her body felt numb. The hole of the barrel drew her eyes to it, hypnotized her. For some reason, she started a countdown in her head.

Three, two – BANG!

Casey's legs gave out and he grunted as his weapon fell out of his hand and he helds his stomach. Then, he collapsed, his dead-weight body falling into the space between her and Spencer. Her brain had problems catching up after already checking out, after making some kind of peace with her immediate death.

She looked from the dead body, to Spencer and the gun in his hand, too stunned to ask or think about how he had managed to free his hands and where the gun came from.

They didn't speak a word to each other after their team burst in, there neither had been the time nor a fitting occasion to talk. They didn't speak until some time later in the evening, after the team made it back, just in time to get cleaned up and celebrate David's & Krystall's marriage.

When they finally shared some words when they both headed to the bar to get something to drink, they didn't talk long.

JJ was nervous. A whole lot of new what if's regarding Spencer were now on her mind. What if he hates me now? What if he wants nothing to do with me any more? What if he leaves me? She hated herself for being so selfish when the last one crossed her mind. She had been prepared to take this secret with her to her grave. But she had needed to say some thing real, something that would not only get the Unsubs attention, but also Spencers. Only then could she have made sure to get a chance at getting them out of there. She was sorry for spilling her secret, for doing this to him and burdening him with it. But now it was out an she couldn't take it back.

“So I, uh, I didn't get a chance to... say it back there, but...”, she started before saying anything else about her confession, having to start the conversation at least somewhere. “Thank you... for saving my life.” She smiled at him.

“You're welcome.” He nodded his head, a small smile stretching in his lips as well. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She laughed nervously. “So uh, Luke was right, two guns, huh? Since when have you been wearing an ankle holster?”

“Around the time I got out of prison”, Spencer smirked.

“Right.” JJ nodded, then quickly looked away, internally working herself up to get the next words out, the ones she so desperately wanted to ask him. “Look, uh, I... Are- are we, okay?” That was all she could hope for at this point. It was all she wanted. That they were okay.

He smiled at her reassuringly and nodded. “Of course.” His smile and the soft tone his voice held eased her nerves instantly.

She held back a sigh of relief and smiled. “Good.”

They fell silent as they wait, Spencer for his water and JJ for a glass of wine. She softly drummed the tips of her finger on the wood, before she turned around to find where you were standing. When your name fell from her lips Spencers eyes darted to you, not even having to search the room. Like a magnetic pull, something that just came natural to him, knowing where to find you. “She looks beautiful tonight.”

Spencer silently nods as his eyes roam your body, how the fabric of your outfit hugged itself around you. “Yeah”, he breathes out, almost inaudibly. “She is.”

The glass clinking as the drinks were served caught her attention and she turned to take hers into her hand. With her free hand she touched Spencers arm and squeezed lightly. Their gazes met and they shared a smile before she walked away.

Just when JJ got back to the table the music changed into a soft and slow tune. Will took the glass form her hand and pulled her away to dance with her. Happy, she leaned into him, and enjoyed the moment. Enjoyed being in his arms.

She couldn't help but look as Spencer and you found your way to other side of the dance floor. He pulled you so close to him, not even a sheet of paper would have had space between the both of you. He was smiling down at you as you were slowly swaying to the rhythm of the music together and you were smiling up at him just as bright. Lost in each others eyes. Every so often he would lift your intertwined hands from his chest up to plant a kiss to your knuckles, or he would brush the tip of his nose against yours before he stole a quick kiss from your lips. Not for one second losing the bright smile, that all but screamed that he was drunk on love.

Spencer was JJ's first love, and the first love is something special, something you can't just erase out of your heart as if it never had made it's home in there in the first place. He was a big piece of her heart and would always be. But she had never even dared to try and stand where you were standing now. By his side; as his partner, his equal. His other half. His forever.

Even if she wouldn't have Will and her two beautiful boys - and don't get me wrong, she wouldn't trade her life with her family for the world-, the way the two of you were clinging to each other right now, looking like you were deeply sunken into your own little universe where no one else existed; and so full of bliss and love for each other... There was no way she would destroy this, no way she would break you two apart.

There was nothing in the world that could break Spencer and you apart.

JJ couldn't hear what you were whispering about, she could only guess by the way you looked at each other and giggled occasionally. The longer you danced it seemed like you were melting into each other, merging your bodies and souls together to form one.

Emily's speech from earlier ringed in her ears then. Penelope says, that this was fate. That [their marriage] was in the stars. [They] are twin flames. Two souls, that are always meant to be together. […] The thing about twin flames is, that nothing can keep them apart.

It was similar to something she had heard Spencer himself say once: "There's an old Buddhist saying, that, when you meet your soulmate, […] the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making." She thought both descriptions were fitting for what you and Spencer had.

As she let her eyes linger on your swaying forms, she suddenly felt like she was intruding something personal and intimate, so she averted her gaze and turned her head away. She rested her cheek against her husbands chest as she faced the other way and closed her eyes. JJ hugged Will closer and as his own hold on her tightened he rested his chin on the crown of her head.

It wasn't fair that she loved Spencer. Because she loved Will and her two boys too. Her family had made her who she was. But so had Spencer.

It wasn't fair to anyone involved.

She had never meant to hurt him, never. She just wanted him to be happy. And you made him happy.

No matter who much she loves Spencer now, had loved him before and would continue to love him, she could never love him as much as you did; the woman who stood where JJ never even had dared to stand.,

[pinkykats-place]

GoT DILF(s) x reader insert fics

Tumblr Recommendations

Disclaimers!

Stories are NOT mine.

Some contain mature content.

Readers are mostly female.

Note: if you read any of these stories and enjoy them pls let the author know by rebloggung, liking or commenting on original post

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Tywin Lannister being possessive and having jealous sex would include:

Longing

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Request: good fluffy smut with Tywin Lannister… maybe him realizing that his feelings for the reader is more than just a political marriage

Warnings: political marriage/arranged marriage, older man x younger woman, soft smut, unprotected sex 

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Summary: when you go into labour, Tywin worries for your safety, remembering the death of his first wife

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https://www.tumblr.com/gotpineapple/186244280214/blessed-with-youth-tywin-lannister-x-tyrellreader?source=share

 

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Headcanons for Stannis x Reader’s children

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[gojo-mochi]

Monster trio meeting the girl of their dreams but turns out they are a marine

Pls and ty:)

Have a great day<3

Prompt: Monster trio meeting the girl of their dreams but turns out they are a marine.

A/N: First time at angst! WOOO (ง ื▿ ื)ว I kinda went overboard with this one…. So it took kinda long aha, Hope you enjoy tho anon if you’re still here!

Content Warning: Fem!reader, Angst, Mild blood, Reader is a new marine fresh out of training, Reader is all slightly different in each head canon since each person’s dream girl wouldn’t be the same, hurt/ no comfort.

Not Proofread

Word Count: 5.4K

Luffy:

First Meeting:

You were on your first job, patrolling around the island to catch any criminals or report any bad deeds. With rifle clutched in hand, you practiced your stomping routine all-thru out the day, eyes darting around to scan the whole area. That was when you came across a boy? Or a young man  now that you glance over his ahem nice build, passed out in a alleyway. You immediately rush over to him, kneeling down and lifting up his head and checking for any obvious wounds or blood.

“Foo-food….so hungry..”

You heard him faintly groan out, followed by a loud stomach rumble. ‘Poor thing must not had eaten in a while..’ You pondered looking at his thin frame. You gently rest his head on your lap while you pull out your lunch bag. As soon as the stranger heard the sound of your bento opening, his eyes shot open, drooling pooling out of his mouth. You stifled a giggle at the sight, taking a pair of chopsticks and picking up one of the fried chicken you made for lunch. Offering it to the strange man, his lips seem to ‘stretch’ out and enveloped the whole chicken piece in a flash.

“Mm... yummy!”

You didn’t think more on that strange moment when the man urgently asked for more by making grabby hands motion and pouting out his lips. You couldn’t back your giggles at this point, once again picking up your chopsticks to hand feed this man. Soon, your whole lunch box was emptied and the man leans up, carefully positioning his straw-hat on top of his head. ‘That looked oddly familiar to me but why..’ Your thoughts get broken though as the strange man loudly smacks his lips together and turns to give you a thumbs up with a wide smile. “The meal tasted amazing! Almost as good as Sanji’s cooking!”

You blush a bit at his compliments, you always cooked for yourself so hearing someone saying that they enjoyed you’re cooking was new… and pleasant. “Ah! I forget to introduce myself.” You got up and dust off your pants, it was a new Marine Uniform they were testing out so you hate to get it dirty so quickly. “My name is y/n, may I asked for yours?” You reach out our hand in your introduction and the man’s hands quickly came to hold them.

‘Warm…’ You thought silently.

“Luffy!” He shakes your hand up and down rapidly, “You’re really pretty and nice by the way! You should come meet my crew! I’ll have Sanji cook something as a Thank You for giving me your lunch!” He spoke out in quick succession, not giving you time to respond back. Though you can feel your face heating up at hearing him call you ‘pretty’. “Oh right! I was supposed to meet up with my crew somewhere! I need to run now but see me later, yeah?!” You could only stare at his back as he starts to rush off somewhere.

Luffy’s POV

‘That food was so yummy! And the lady was so nice and pretty and wow!’ Luffy’s thoughts usually went a mile a min, especially now expect it was all about you. He couldn’t wait to tell his Nakamas about what happened today. He thought about how soft your lap was to rest on, how he enjoyed every single bite of food you gave him, how even more delicious the food was when it was coming from your hands. He had a skip in his steps as he ran around the island looking for any signs of his crew, ‘I hope y/n likes Sanji’s cooking! Maybe so much that she’ll even join us!’

A/N: Luffy not the type to fall in love in first sight, so idk how to exactly write out him meeting his dream girl other than this  ｡･ﾟ･(ﾉД`)ヽ

Second Meeting:

You were alerted by your Commander about a group of pirates causing havoc near the docks. You dash to the dock ready to deal damage to these Pirates. ‘How dare they! Terrorizing a small island like this one!’ You thought angrily as you get closer to your destination. You soon come across a giant blue haired robot person? And a green haired man wielding three swords. Your allies were being slashed down right in front of you. You brought out your rifle and took aim at the pirates ready to fire at a moment notice.

When you noticed a certain straw hat jumping over everyone. Your heart was thumping, blood rushing to your head as you screamed out; “Luffy!?”

Luffy turned to look at you in midair and grinned wide, stretching his arms impossibly long to where you were. He crash land in front of you with a loud ‘thud’. “Y/N! You made it!” He yelled near your ears excitedly, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You get shoved him off and point your rifle at him with shaking hands. He gives you a sad puppy eyed look. “What’s wrong?” He tilts his head in a way that almost makes you stumble in your step. But you hold fast; “What’s wrong?! What’s wrong is that you are damn Pirate!”

You raise up your rifle again in fury. Did he not know that you were a Marine this whole time? …No, he must had known and pretended to be sick so you lowered your guard down or something, after all, all pirates are the same. You blink away the tears in your eyes, the expression on Luffy’s face almost tricked you into believing that he was clueless in all of this. “Surrender now! Or else I will use this!”

You get slammed by a reindeer or some sort of reindeer liked monster. Your back hits the ground with a hard “Oof.” Escaping your lips, through bleary eyes you can barely see Luffy reaching out for you before he was pulled away by that swordman. Another Marine goes to help you back up, you wince at seeing how your forearms were all scratched and bleeding now. With only rage fueling your voice you scream as the Pirate’s ship was getting ready to sail away. “This isn’t over Luffy! You’re dead to me!”

Luffy’s POV

The Sunny was sailing away and everyone on the ship was safe and accounted for. They made off with bags of food as well. Sanji even said he was making a feast tonight. So why did Luffy feel so sad… He only known for a couple of mins but those memories kept replaying in his head. Your warmth and your kindness, it was replaced with the vision of you screaming out and on the ground bruised.

His crewmates were quick to noticed Luffy’s new attitude, him slumped over on the railing just looking at the island as it fades out of view. When anyone came up to ask, Luffy didn’t give them a answer on why he was feeling this way, he just was. He hoped that the next time you guys end up meeting that it would turn out better but the bitter feeling in the back of his mind told him that you wanted him dead. Why did you have to turn out to be a Marine… he then wondered if he could change your mind and turn you into a pirate instead.

With that new plan in mind, he cheered up a bit and went to bother Sanji about when dinner was ready. He kept rubbing at his chest the whole day though, trying to suppress the ache he felt inside.

Zoro:

First Meeting:

You were cursing your way into shelter as the rain poured down on you. Keeping your sword close to your body as you huddled underneath a tree. ‘Damn it, of course it would rain as soon as I finished with my sword training for the day.’ You cursed silently, wringing out the sleeves on your robe. You always switch out of your usual Marine’s uniform when training but now you’re began to regret that choice. The Marine’s uniform were waterproof to a degree, given how much of your work was out on the sea.

You huff out, rolling your eyes to the dark overcast, flipping it off like it would make any sort of difference. You heard a snort coming off from the left. You jump up a bit in shock, glad that you’re commander wasn’t here to see you be so careless enough not to notice another presence near you. You glare at the new person, not out of any hatred, just annoyance. Why were you even annoyed at this person? You don’t really have an answer for that…

You take a good look at the stranger, he have oddly colored green hair, a scar over his eye, and three swords hung by the side of his hip. He sends over a small smirk when he catches you staring for too long at his open chest. “A picture would last longer, you know?” He taunted with a slight tilt of his head. You feel a fierce blush coming up and you tore your eyes away from watching the rain droplets go down on his admittedly nice abs. You faked a cough and straighten your shoulders out.

“I was just making sure you weren’t a threat or anything like that.” You grunted out. You blush even more when the stranger gave you a toothy smirk in response as he hums. The hums almost came out as growl from how deep it sounded. “So, do you still think I am threat then little missy?” His grey eyes now scanning over your body. Your hands itches towards your sword but you stop yourself.

“I’m Y/N, and I’m…” You took a small pause, “I’m sigh sorry about before, thinking you were a threat and all that.” You did feel bad for glaring at him for no reason, after all he didn’t do anything to deserve it. The man shifted his position, letting his robe fall open, exposing even more of his tanned skin and scarred muscles. “Tis’ fine, it’s not like I blame you for staring.” Oh, alright, now you don’t feel bad for glaring at him.

“I was-wasn’t staring!” You quickly snapped back, which cause the still unnamed man to barked out a laugh. You start to grind your teeth, ‘Fuck him and his stupid attractive laugh too.’ You thought as you turn to find shelter elsewhere. You felt a tug as the man grabbed on to your wrist and pulled you back.

“Hey! Wait! I uh fuck.” He lets you go. “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you alright. So don’t leave ok?” His voice sounded a bit softer than before. When you turned around, you catch sight of a small blush painting over his face. It made your heart skip a beat. You shuffles back to your spot, next to the man, letting your shoulder bump against his tall frame. “I didn’t know that you wanted me back that badly.” You jested, feeling off the warm feeling crawling up.

You heard another snort come off the man, and then the warmth of his broad hand coming to ruffle your hair. He didn’t say anything in return though, just letting the pitter patter of the raindrops wash over you two. It took a while and some brushing of hands and fake coughing for one of you to speak up again. “So.. what type of sword style do you use?” The man grunted and looked over to the sword by your hip. You drummed your fingers on the hilt of your blade nervously at his intense gaze.

“I came from a place called Mount Hua, and I was taught the Plum Blossom sword technique there.” You tilt your head back to glance as his expression. Most people would scoff when they see a woman with a sword so you wonder how he’s reacting. It catches you by surprise to see him so intrigued by your words. “Could you show me once this damn rain goes away?”

He sounded serious about it, not like all the others who taunted or mocked your style. ‘Plum Blossom style? Heh! Sounds girly enough for a woman to use! What does it do? Make everything pretty? Bahahah!’ Your thoughts race to all the things people said to you before. You faked another cough and tried to secretly wipe away your tears that were threatening to fall. You just settled for a nod, looking away, hoping that the man doesn’t see your tears. You hear some shifting beside you and the hand returns upon your head.

His callous fingers gently sunk into your hair, scraping against your scalp tenderly, it almost makes your purr from the sensation. He stayed silent, just letting his hand convey all his feelings. The rain soon ended after this moment, you didn’t know if you wanted to be happy or cry that it was over. You step out from under the shelter and give a head nod to the man. You wondered what a good time to ask for his name, it feels awkward to ask after so long.

The man gave a nod back and began to follow you as you walk to a good place to show off your sword technique. You suck in a shaky breath, readying your sword stance. Closing your eyes and steadying your mind, your body goes thru the motions you repeated so many times before. Right foot first, swing your sword out into an arc, twist your body and follow that arc, another step into a whole dance. Move your body like the swaying petals that descend down from Mount Hua.

Since your eyes were closed the whole time, you didn’t get to see the awestruck expression the man wore on his face the entire time. Mouth slightly agape and his one eye never leaving your form as you make the plum blossoms  bloom around you with each swing. It was breath-taking and utterly ethereal, the man thought to himself. His own hand itching to try and copy your sword style. He wanted desperately to see more of this technique and more of you if he was being honest.

Once you were done, the plum blossom softly fall down around you, it made you look heavenly. You tried to not let out a wheeze, controlling your breaths unless your heartrate fully calmed down. Your turns toward the man as he was walking to you, mouth open to say something but cut off by the ringing of your transponder snail. Pere Pere Pere…. Click. You take out the snail from your pocket, it’s eyes opens as your commander’s shouts out. “Y/N! Where are you!? We have a code red down at the docks! Hurry over now!” You stammered out an yes while shooting the stranger a apologetic look. You quickly took foot to the docks, your duties outweigh everything else.

Zoro’s POV

His hand reached out before his mind could react but you were already gone. ‘Shit..’ Zoro looked back to the plum blossoms scattered on the ground. Picking one up between his fingers, rolling it around he sighs. Hand going to rest on his sword hilt he wonders if he could make flowers bloom like you could. His mind flashed back to your sorrowful expression when he asked you to show off your technique. You must had a hard time in the past, his fist balled up in fury at the thought of someone… anyone making you cry like that. He shook his heads as these kind of thoughts filled his head, it was unusual for him to feel such strong emotions and for someone he barely knows as well. He rolls his shoulders and tries not to delve deeper into these new emotions, wondering where the hell his crew was. (A/N: Zoro was supposed to meet his crew an hour ago but he got lost ofc ヽ(~_~()

Second Meeting:

Clang! Your sword comes down and clashed against the large blue metal arm of the cyborg. “Woah there lady! Why don’t we all calm down and talk about this, yeah?” You stepped back when arms sprout from the ground trying to grab your ankles. “We can talk about this once you all are all in handcuffs!” You ready to swing again but you stumble in you step when you caught sight of a familiar green head of hair. A fellow officer catches you before you fully fall flat on your face. “Get it together L/N!” You nod at your fellow officer.

Fighting down the urge to puke when the green haired stranger goes to join the Pirate Crew’s side. Your lips pressed together when you see him take out his swords against the marines. Your body tense and you made your way to the man. Swish! Clang!Zoro’s eye widen when you clashed swords. “Y/N? Wh-what? Why the hell are you here?!” Veins forming on his forearms as he tried to push back against your attack. “I should be asking you that! If I had known that you were a damn pirate I would never had-!” Your breath falters as your eyes start to well up with tears. Zoro let out a hiss when you managed to nick his arm a bit.

You could feel that he was holding back, not putting his full strength into his attacks. You growled out, “Stop doing that! Are you going easy on me just became I’m a girl?!” You swung down again with a heavy arc. Zoro jumped back shock and then anger paints over his face. “I wouldn’t hold back just cause of that! You don’t know a damn thing about me!” He snarled out, accidently putting some of his haki into his next swing, the force pushed you all the way across the battlefield. Your Commander caught you before you fell into the ocean.

Your head was dizzy and your ears was ringing, you felt your Commander’s hands on your back and neck as he props you up a bit. His visage was hazy and you could slightly hear the words, “Y/N?! Ar- -ou wi—me!? Y/N!!” The last thing you saw was Zoro in the distance, jumping up on the Pirate’s ship and leaving. You soon pass out in your Commander’s arms afterwards.

Zoro’s POV

He was getting patched up in Chopper’s office, heart still thumping from the visage of you all bloodied on the ground. From his own attack as well. He hiss out when Chopper applied the medical salve on a  particularly grisly wound. “Sorry Zoro! Are you alright?” Chopper fretted over him, going to check over every inch of his body again. Zoro only grunted a “Is ok.” In return and stood up. He waves off Chopper’s worries and ignores the stinging stares on his back from the rest of his crewmates once he walked out on deck.

He goes up to the Crow’s Nest, pretending the paining in his arms weren’t there. He looks at all his gym equipment and slumps his shoulders, opting to just lay on the ground. ‘A nap sounds fine I guess…’

His hand goes inside his robe to pull out a single plum blossom petal, he rolls between his fingers, admiring the soft shades of colors. His mind goes back to you, your cute expression when he teased you, your form when dancing, and you.. dead on the ground because of him. He shuts his eyes and holds the petal close to his chest and goes to sleep. Wondering if things went differently, where you would be now…

Sanji:

First Meeting:

You pulled the short stick and got tasked with the duty of groceries shopping for the rest of your team this week. You squint at the long list your Commander gave you. “Apples, Bread (Make sure to get Rye NOT WHEAT), Meat, (Beef, Pork, Lamb if you find it), Bruss-oof.” You hit the back of a tall blonde stranger, stumbling backwards you shut your eyes preparing for the crash landing. Only to find yourself in the arms of the same stranger you bumped into. “Woah there! Are you alright ma chérié?” A smooth voice asked. You open you eyes to find the face of the stranger, a handsome man with a curly brow.

With his arms wrapped securely around your waist he brings you back up to your feet. You stuttered out an apology and bowed to your savior. He chuckles and bowed back with a more flawless posture. “No need to thank me, I will always help a beautiful lady in need.” He then put his hand out in asking for yours. You blush at the compliment and bashfully gave him your hand, he then proceeded to plant a soft kiss on the back of your hand which cause you to blush even further.

“May I ask why you were in such a big rush, my dear?”

“O-oh! I was getting groceries and I was looking at my list and not paying any attention, which I am so sorry for again!” As you explained your reasoning you went to show the list that held all the items you needed to buy. Expect it wasn’t in your hands anymore or your pockets for that matter. You pat around your whole body looking for that very long and important list. Finding nothing in the end, yours hand start to clench as your breathing became more unstable. “Shit, Shit, SHIT! This can not be happening to me right!” Your whole body at this point starts to shake, when you feel warm hands on your shoulders and a calming voice guiding you down.

“Hey there, look at me alright, and breath with me. You need to breath, miss…. That’s it… slow and steady… good job.”

Your breathing starts to calm down as you listen to the voice. Shoulders still slightly shaking as you feel the same warm hands as before pat your head and began to wipes away tears you didn’t know was falling. You start hiccupping as the man pulls you into his arms, rubbing small soothing circles on your back. Once you calmed down enough to speak, you look at up the man, still being held in his arms.

“Th-thank you for this… I’m sorry for—”

He stops you before you could finish your apology. “Don’t feel like you need to apologize my dear, it’s a man’s duty to always help dries a lady’s tears as well.” His head still petting your hair so sweetly it makes your heart squeeze a bit. Still he was a stranger no matter how handsome he is, so you reluctantly push away from his firm chest and try not to think too much about the look on his face as you did. “It just that I lost the list of all the things I need to get for my group and I’m not sure what to do now…”

The man hummed for a bit, closing his eyes before he said. “Why don’t I help you out with your shopping? Not to brag but I am quite the talented chef so this would be a easy task for me to do.” He grinned down at you. You start to refuse stating that you didn’t want to bother him but he had already grabbed your hand into his and was pulling you towards the marketplace. “Just tell me about who we’re buying for and let me take care of it, ok sweetheart?” Your heart skips so many beats hearing him call you sweetheart, just so casually like it was something that was normal between you two.

You brush aside the nickname and your beating heart to explain some of your teammates tastes and dislike. The more you talk the more comfortable you got, telling him about how each of your teammates have something they actively hate and will not even touch a dish if it has that certain ingredient in it. Throwing your arms in the air as you told the story of how two of them got into a fight over who ate the last of the mangos. He chuckles at the story or at how you were acting, you weren’t so sure but you were enjoying the time spent with him.

He easily explained what was best to get, how to pick the best fruit, cut of meat, and fresh fish, he also showed you how to haggle for the best prices as well. You giggled when he went back and forth with the old fishermen, his hand still held on tightly to yours the whole time. You felt a small squeeze every time the fishermen retorted back saying the price was firm. In the end he did get a couple of free fishes with his order. He was swinging his hand that held yours as he happily carried the numerous amount of bags all in his other arm.

You wanted to share some of the load but he was adamant about carrying it all for you but he denied every moment you asked. His hand was oh so warm and caring, when you reached your building you didn’t want to let go. And it seems like he didn’t either, he just silently drops the bags off and hold steady to you hand before letting go. Your fingers slipping past each other slowly until you were freed, free but cold. You just stayed there in the middle of your doorway, you both don’t even know the other’s name but you feel like there was something that was bubbling just below the surface.

However, before anything could happen the both of you heard a huge explosion come from somewhere in the city. The make the ground beneath shake heavily and your ears ring from the aftershock. You look around frantically to see any signs of enemies or anything that could be dangerous while the man did the same while shielding you. You shake off the same feeling in your chest as you went to Transponder Snail to check in with your team. “I have to go check on my friends! Please stay here and stay safe!” The man yells as he starts to run towards the source of the explosion.

You yelled after him but he was already long gone, the Transponder snail still ringing in your hand. You bite you lips in worry for your teammates and the strange man you gotten close to.

Sanji’s POV:

While he hates to leave a beautiful young lady behind, he can’t help but worry about his friends. So while his legs went on autopilot to his friends his mind wandered back over to the marketplace and to you, how his hand fits so perfectly on your waist, the way your smile seem to set his heart aflame each time you directed at him, it was a different sort of feeling from what he usually get when seeing a pretty lady. It both terrified and excited him at the same time, he thought of what he could do when he needed to leave the island later. Would you accept a vivre card from him a stranger, was that too much? Maybe just giving you his number would be fine… or maybe you could join the crew as his assistant? He need to convince Luffy first but also you but his mind couldn’t help but think of all the scenario of you and him together.

He finally reached source of the smoke and found his friends being attacked by a group of marines. He hurries in to help fight them off.

Second Meeting:

The Transponder snail opened up it eyes and you heard your teammate shout out your name. You responded back right away, asking how was everyone and where they were. You voice came out in rasps as you didn’t know that you were holding your breath this whole time. You slide down to the floor upon hearing that everyone was safe from the blast. Tears falling from all the stress, but you steadied yourself once your teammate asked if you could come help. You stifled some sniffles and told them that you’ll be there soon.

You got into your uniform and ready your weapon by your side as you head to the meeting area, the source of the explosion. ‘Where that kind stranger went to….I hope he’s ok..’ Thoughts like these race in your mind as you dash across the town. You hear the sound of fighting before you could spot anyone. You get out your weapon and hurry to the battle to find… The same stranger.

Your heart stops in your throat, your mind was spinning, and you could barely hear you’re the fight over you, as you eyes set on the man. He looked good, you hate to admit it, as he was going around kicking your teams’ ass, but dam does he look good doing it. You snapped out of it when you got pulled back by your commander as a strange and buff Raccoon dog(?) was barreling your way. You landed with a oof and grunted out a sorry as your commander went back to help the others.

Your mind was still foggy over why he man was helping the pirates and what that meant for the two of you. The two of you?? You only knew him for what? A couple of hours? Why were you thinking so hard on this, it obvious that he’s a pirate and that he needs to go down, just like every other pirate out there. You keep telling yourself that as you head straight towards him with your weapon pointed. “Halt!”

The man stopped in his tracks as he turns to meet you, his eye goes wide but then he immediately smiles wide. “Ma chérié! You’re here!” He stretch his arms out wide, as if he was waiting for a hug. You almost falter in your step as you felt your cheeks warm up. You pretended it was from anger and not anything else as you take a step back and faced your weapon towards him. “Surrounded now Pirate! I won’t ask twice!”

His arms was still out stretched but the smile on his face fell. It seems like he was struggling to say something but then the same Raccoon dog you saw before was crashing towards you again but you managed to step away just in time. “Get away from Sanji!” ‘Sanji… so that’s his name..’

You land on your feet with a hard thud. Growling as you try to swipe at the large creature, almost landing a hit when Sanji stops you with his leg. “Wait! Please let talks this out, my dear, we could work this out.” You pushed away his leg and yelled back. “Talk what out?! You’re a pirate! We have nothing between us!”. As soon as Sanji’s face fell, you regret what you said, heart twisting in your chest. One of your teammate came to stand beside you and take aim at the two, shooting at them while they ran back to their ship. You curse them out as the ship’s sails unfurled and they began to leave. Trying desperately to stop the tears from falling as your heart reach out to him while your mind was yelling at you.

Sanji’s POV:

He just stayed in the kitchen for most of the week after leaving that island. Distracting himself by preparing new dishes, snacks, drinks, anything that occupy his hands and his mind. Usopp and Nami was worried about him and the food storage but Sanji waved them off. He puffed out another smoke from his nth cigarette. Looking at his hand and trying to remember the warmth he felt when yours was holding it. He sighs, putting out his current cigarette and lighting up another one. As his thoughts pulled him back that marketplace and the sound of your laughter rings in his ears.

[licorice-tea]

Don’t Fall In Love With Me (Yet) Pt. 2

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: mentions of fights/canon typical violence and weapons, sooo much pining, can be read as a stand alone or as part of the mini series, allies to friends to lovers (soon!?), etc!

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: hmmm where do i start? i changed the pov from third to second person, (the first part was third person) the writing style of this is a little different from what i usually do but i still like it so hopefully you do to! pls enjoy and ty for reading <333

edited 1/8/24

Part 1 | Part 3

Law finds y/n leaning on the starboard railing of the Thousand Sunny.

You feel Law’s steps on the wooden planks and look over your shoulder to see him approaching. you swear you can hear your own heartbeat, and only hope that he won’t be able to hear it, too. Your thoughts are interrupted by his presence to your left. Law leans over the railing, mug of coffee in hand. A moment of silence passes while he watches you watch the sea from the corner of his eye.

“Can you even see anything?” he questions, his words coming off much harsher than intended,

A bit caught off guard, you simply respond, “Mhm, everything.” you have good vision, so you’re sort of the natural choice for keeping watch if Zoro doesn’t feel like staying up.

You can feel Law’s gaze on your profile. You can also feel your cheeks heating up, but those two things are completely independent… It doesn’t even matter though, because the darkness of the night should be enough to hide that from him.

“Are you having a good time on board the Thousand Sunny?” 

“It’s alright. You guys are really loud.” He says in a near scoff.

“Oh… Sorry about that.” Did you really bother him so much?

Law mentally kicks himself and is quick to wave a hand in front of his face apologetically, “No, I just mean… you’re all very energetic. Not you specifically, either. You’re actually really, uh…”

You wait patiently, now peering up at him through your lashes. He meets your eyes with his own, much more frantic gaze.

“You’re… nice.” He finally averts his eyes with a turn of cheek.

“Oh… thank you.” You smile to yourself. “I think you’re really nice, too.”

Law releases another scoff, though it comes off as more surprised than mean. He struggles with accurately portraying his feelings for you, who remains equally oblivious to his feelings as he does to yours. “You must be thinking of someone else.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m not known for being nice.”

“People must not really know you, then.”

“And you do?”

“Not as much as I’d like to, but well enough.”

“… What?” He finds that you make him feel dumb sometimes, be it through quick rebuttals or patient stares.

“I just mean, we could be friends. But I understand if you don’t-“

“I do.”

“… Ok.” You grin once more.

The pair stare out to sea, and Law takes another sip of his coffee.

“How come I never see you in fights with your crew?”

“I try to stay out of the way. Plus, I don’t really like fighting in the first place- that’s not why I joined my crew. It’s more of a last resort.”

“Interesting.”

“You think so?”

“That you would rather play support than have to get into a fight? Definitely. It’s not very pirate-like.” He nearly sneers- he has certain beliefs on what a pirate should be in order to be of use to their crew.

But, ever the optimist, you simply laugh, “So I’ve been told,” you start. “I guess I’m a little… strict about my morals. Just never really want to hurt someone, you know? Even if it makes people think I’m weak, because I know I’m not.”

“At least you’re self aware.” Law begins, but for some unknown reason feels compelled to continue. To give you some little piece of himself in return for what you’ve told him. However, after he tells you, “I don’t enjoy fighting much either, I just do it to protect my crew.” he feels like he’s talking too much.

You listen intently, “And do you have a family? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He shakes his head no, “Gone.”

You nod solemnly. “Well, I’m sure they’d be proud of you.”

“Have you… lost someone?” Law immediately regrets asking such a personal question.

But, you aren't offended. “No, I’ve been lucky in that way. Though we aren’t really… We don’t… Well, we’re not close.”

“Why’s that?” he mimics your earlier question, which you pick up on and smirk at.

So you sigh; “I guess the whole running-away-with-a-pirate crew thing kind of soiled their opinion of me.”

Your eyes meet again after your confession, and after a moment of silence, you both break out in laughter. Except, Law’s is more of just the shake of his shoulders, while you actually laugh.

“It’s not funny-” Law says through broken exhales.

“No, it’s really not!” you shake your head, still caught in a fit of giggles.

Eventually you both still yourselves, and Law concentrates on his half empty mug while you look up at the stars above head. Then you look at him from the corner of their eye, just for a split second, but find his eyes are already trained on you. So you offer a smile, like always, and go back to star gazing. Another moment passes, and your enjoyment of conversation gets the best of you.

“What’s it like living in a submarine?” Law raises a brow and gives a sidelong glance at your question. “Don’t you miss land and the sky when you’re down there?”

“Yeah. I miss land sometimes, I guess.”

You explore the answer to your question further by standing up on the ledge before you, and leaning over the railing to look down into the waves being split by the Thousand Sunny. It’s not a particularly dangerous stunt at all- there’s the floor, a 3 inch raised ledge, and the railing on top of it. When you stand on it, your height is barely altered; that’s how non perilous what you are doing is, for context. You simply want to lean over to see the waves.

But Law’s hand shoots out to grasp your shoulder, acting as a tether. You look at him with a concerned expression, which turns into a smirk. You could stay up there, maybe even turn and lift yourself slightly to sit on the railing itself, but you decide to come back down to the floor on your heels instead of giving the surgeon something else to stress over. Law then pulls his hand back rigidly and scratches the back of his neck with near painful awkwardness due to his sudden display of concern for your safety.

“I don’t think I could trip all the way over the railing unless I tried.” You tease.

“No, I- I know.” he coughs. Did he really just stutter?

“See? You are nice. You care.” you punctuate your statement with a smirk and the side to side tilt of their head. An occasional habit that, if someone were around you often enough to witness, they would know signified a feeling of triumph.

Law is at a loss for words at the moment, thoughts clouded by the growing warmth in his chest that seems to fluctuate up and down his neck and face, but never disappears completely when he’s around you.

“Sure.” he takes to mumbling again.

“You know, I really like having you here with us.”

“…You do?”

“Yeah. I love the other Straw Hats of course, but… I don’t know, you’re different.”

“You’re different from my crew, too.”

“Oh yeah? In a good way, I hope.”

Law shrugs, “Yeah.” He pauses, then mutters something under his breath. “In a good way.”

You’d blurt out your feelings here and now, if it were anyone else. But this is Law, and you kind of like him a lot, so you want to do things right. Besides, that would probably only scare him away- he seems like the kind of man who carefully works his way up to a relationship. With a friendly smile, you accept his statement. Because now that you know he considers you a friend at the very least, and more than likely shares your affections… you’re in no rush.

The night goes by quickly in his company, and soon enough you spot the golden rays of the sun peaking over the horizon.

“We should do this again sometime,” you tell him as the sun starts to climb higher into the sky (quicker than you’d like), “I had fun talking to you.”

Law nods, “Just let me know when you’re keeping watch,” he waves over his shoulder as he walks away, “I’ll be there.”

And when he makes it back to the privacy of his room, Law replays the night in his head. Over and over and over again, until he comes to a not-so-shocking conclusion. “Shit:”

“I’m falling for y/n.”

[driaswrld]

ultraviolence — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 3k

summary : suguru coming home was supposed to make things better. but, it's as if everything is going wrong again.

part of : the star paradox collection.

notes : pls read this and this first ty!! LORE DUMP 🤭 mostly from sugu n toru's pov dealing with their new life and the twins along with jujutsu society. reader is trying to be the mediator as always and shoko is the best ofc. just the one where everyone has an existential crisis. (part one of two hopefully)

other : I PROMISE YOU'LL GET FLUFF SOON 😭 mentions of alcohol, blood, smoking obvi, idk why i named this ultraviolence lmao (shit hits the fan in the next tsr im js trying to be kind i promise!)

comment to be added to the tsr taglist!

current cassette : pretty when you cry - lana del rey

You come home to a house colder than you left it.

There’s a small comfort in the droplets of water that splatter against the wooden floor when you hang your jacket up, having remembered the way the girls beamed up at you only an hour ago as you walked them to school.

The twins were adamant to hold your hands, Mimiko blushing the whole time and Nanako poking fun at it, promising to hold your hand everyday until they became big girls.

Big girls that would only need you to hold their hand halfway — the same way Suguru only walks you and Satoru halfway to the school before heading back.

But the sliver of a chill that reverberates through your bones doesn’t resemble the comfort of a morning’s soft rain drizzle.

“You can’t just dismiss the issue like this, Satoru!”

“Where’s my own will, huh? Can’t I just do this?”

“This isn’t about you.”

You hear everything for a moment, muffled shouts and grumbles from the bathroom.

“Yeah, you’ve made that pretty clear, haven't you?”

Then you hear nothing at all.

The investigation launched on the ninth day in December.

Suguru had all but been home for a week and then some, settling into the shoddy apartment you and Satoru called home between missions and meetings with Yaga and the higher ups.

It took half a day to move his old things out of the dormitory building, most of what really mattered was already sitting in the hall closet untouched, kept the way Suguru would’ve wanted it.

It was after he rifled through the closet in search of a fresh set of clothes did he realize, he had been mourned.

You and Satoru had mourned him like a mother would a child, like a womb stretched to make space, only to bleed.

His clothes smelled more like the both of you than it did him.

The fourth day, Suguru spent the night hunched over the balcony, smoking a silver blue parliament with Shoko while you and Satoru attended a hearing with the higher ups.

A necessary audience, they defined over the cryptic email.

Shoko described it as a means to an end, Satoru was still the strongest and you were his voice. The meeting was all but a farce to keep you two in check — but Suguru read it clearly for what it was.

A threat.

“He’ll be clan head,” Suguru murmured between plumes of smoke. “They won’t let him turn it down any longer, especially with me around.”

At this, Shoko chuckled, sucking in a sharp breath.

“You think he’ll do it this time?” She asked, somewhere between knowing and not knowing.

The higher ups want Satoru under their thumbs — not that you’d so much as let them come close — that much is evident. But it’s become a lose to win situation.

The guarantee that Suguru and the girls would remain untouched and hidden under the condition that he follows their rules, does it their way, doesn’t ask, doesn’t so much as breathe a word or commit an action using his own strength outside their command—

“Satoru as a lap dog?” Suguru laughs a little.

He just can’t picture it.

What he can picture though is the Six Eyes user backed into a corner, with no other choice but to concede. Then again, Satoru’s never been submissive to authority, no matter the setting.

A beat of silence passes over him and Shoko, and she knows what he’s thinking before he says it, yet she doesn’t caution him otherwise nor does she blame the nicotine.

“He could kill them.” Suguru says, “It wouldn’t take him long.”

The seventh day, Suguru stands in the middle of one of the many engawa corridors of Jujutsu High, dressed like a teenage dropout, teeth sinking into the inside of his cheeks until crimson stains his tongue.

You told him last night while cuddled into his side, Satoru’s head on his chest, “Walk away from it the right way, Suguru.”

And admittedly, he was going to laugh a little, kiss your cheek and maybe lull you back to sleep and ease your worries.

I don’t resent you,

for the path you chose.

As long as you swear,

yours and ours will converge.

“Geto, what is this?”

Suguru looks down at the sealed envelope he passed to Yaga seconds ago, the word resignation printed in bold atop the sealed flaps.

If he intends to kill himself, he should at least do it the way you asked him to.

He owes you that much.

Suguru never thought of himself to have been in a position where he could live past twenty ; he thought he was lucky Satoru even let him live to see the first snow, even if it was from the bittersweet solitude of the bed you three shared.

“I’ll graduate first,” Suguru says, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets.

For the sake of saving face he took a total of ten missions after his sentence was pardoned.

Five to prove he wasn't a liability to the Jujutsu world, two to hover by your side – he hadn't realized post traumatic stress could manifest in the need for more physical attachment – and three to see up close just how much Satoru had on his shoulders now.

To see just how different Satoru had become because of him.

“And then?” Yaga asks it like a cruel joke that only he and Suguru know.

People are talking. People have been talking.

Suguru Geto the defect. Suguru Geto the cancer of the strongest. Suguru Geto the curse. Suguru Geto—

“Maybe I’ll die of old age.”

I pray death finds me

under you two

in our bed.

If not,

kill me yourselves.

There’s meaning in that too.

That same afternoon, brandished with what should be newfound freedom – Suguru Geto. Not the sorcerer, not the curse, not the man – he drinks himself sick until he blacks out on the sofa.

Alcohol is cheap at Shinanoya, it’s been that way since he was sixteen and idle in the summer of ‘06, coaxed by Satoru into printing fake IDs, blacking out on the floor of your dorm room and waking up to throw up, just to blackout again.

Suguru took the train back and passed his stop two times.

Two times he thought of two different outcomes and two different destinations.

First, he’d go back to Jujutsu High and take the resignation back from Yaga before he signed it.

He’d call your cellphone, tell you how he's had a change of heart, whisper into the line : “We should celebrate. Me, you and Satoru.”

But you’d know it was a lie.

He still has twisted dreams of waking up in a gas station bathroom in a pool of blood that isn't his own.

Dreams that don't frighten him at all.

Second, it came to him the moment he considered actually getting off at his stop and going back to the apartment.

He’d let the train take him to Shibuya, stand in the middle of the crossing and scream.

People would look at him weird, others would walk by.

And the first monkey to reach out and offer him help, he’d—

“Suguru?”

He wakes with a startle, eyes bloodshot and half lidded.

“Name—” he opens his mouth, half empty vodka bottle tilted over and soaking the carpet. Satoru comes through the door a moment later, leading the twins to the kitchen to set their half eaten bentos down.

A shiver runs down his spine when he glances at the clock above the mantle. 12:53pm.

“School ended half day,” you say to him. Satoru doesn't so much as glance at Suguru when he steps back in to take the plastic bags of takeout from your hands. “They called but you didn't—”

Suguru's already sitting up, fishing through his pockets for his phone and clicking at the buttons.

Two missed calls from Mimiko and Nanako’s school.

Two missed calls from their homeroom teacher, Ms. Aiko.

Four missed calls from you.

One voicemail from Satoru.

“I'm so— shit,” Suguru sets the bottle of alcohol upright, pressing a palm to the carpet to find it damp.

His skin is hot, he feels like a mess, no doubt he looks like a mess with the way you're already kneeling beside him to screw the bottle shut. “I’m so sorry, I didn't— everything with the letter and then the train got delayed—”

“Suguru.” Satoru speaks for the first time, looks at him for the first time – behind bandaged eyes. “Sober up by tomorrow, yeah?”

Your head flits around to give Satoru a stare, as if to ask if that's all he has to say right now. But Suguru’s fingers enclose around your wrist, it’s okay, I was the one at fault.

“Satoru—”

“Just do this one thing right, please.”

The twins’ school dismissed half day due to heavy snow this early in the month. Suguru, listed as the girls’ primary guardian, gets the calls first.

He doesn't pick up.

Your work line rings next, and it goes to voicemail.

In between exorcising a special grade in Shinjuku, you don't hear it ring.

As the devil would have it made and done, Satoru’s line rings while he's at the school. Loud.

“Gojo-san!” The lady from the admin office knocks on the door twice, and is met with silence. The phone rings again, but this time it's the main line. The office extension.

The one he’s been using since he put in his teaching application.

The phone clatters against the desk in robust vibrations, Limitless almost bending the coily cord to nothingness.

The meeting room of four higher ups and two members of the Gojo clan watch him intently, scrutinizing him, waiting.

Beyond his better judgment, Satoru tells himself it's just you, calling to ask if you should bring back kikufuku or just the udon.

Or it's Suguru, who’s confused and can't find one of his things in the apartment and needs some guidance.

Satoru's not a pious person. But he wishes he’d have prayed the moment the call went to the answer machine.

“Good day, Mr. Gojo! I’m calling regarding the girls. School’s been dismissed half day today on account of the weather but Mr. Geto nor Ms. Name are picking up.”

“I’m hoping this reaches you soon so the girls can have a ride home. Thankyou! Stay warm!”

The eighth day, you wake to the smell of jasmine and hot oil. Four messages from Yaga, one email attached, forwarded to Satoru : Adoption fraud.

“—he hates me.” Suguru mumbles, shirtless and damn near cowering from your gaze, flipping the omelet in the frying pan, two steps away to avoid the oil splatter.

“Don't say that so casually,” you shake your head, shutting the fridge door, setting a carton of milk on the counter. “It's not like you believe that.”

Suguru flips the omelet with one hand on the pan handle, the other flicking the carton open and turning it to his head in a quick gulp.

He doesn't confirm it.

“Suguru—” you smack his arm and take the milk, turning away to rummage through the pantry for the pancake mix.

“I know.”

No, Suguru.

You don't know.

"I try to be patient," Suguru says quietly, shaking his head. "I know we're not sixteen and that this and then are two different things—” He turns the flame down, refusing to look over at you.

“Nobody's asking you to be perfect,” you cut him off, pancake mix forgotten on the counter. “You made a mistake, it happens—”

The higher ups are already breathing down Satoru’s neck about the twins now that they've been found out. It's an uphill battle in the Jujutsu world, your phone won't stop ringing.

Whether it's Yaga proposing damage control to have you and Satoru set apart on missions or another higher up waiting for you to slip up and beg for help, beg to be in their debt.

“I owe you better,” Suguru whispers, more to himself than to you.

He’s never been the type to ask for help or beg for forgiveness or cower at someone's heels. But you saved him — by putting your life on the line and in turn making Satoru cover it up — and he hates himself for it.

I wish

you would've

just let me stay dead.

“Because that's what I deserve? Better?”

Suguru gets the call from Shoko the next day.

December 9, 2007.

A formal investigation is announced into the involvement of [name] [name] in the case of Suguru Geto’s defection and pardon — alleged charge : fabrication of evidence.

Satoru makes his mind up the same day, sends the twins to stay at the dorms with Shoko for the weekend and brings you and Suguru with him to the Gojo estate.

“I can feel your eyes,” you whisper, seated cross legged on the tatami floor, nursing a cup of tea in your cupped palm.

You've never liked the Gojo estate. Not in winter at least, not when it's like this.

Satoru has his back turned to you, fingering the loose cloth of white bandages covering his eyes, almost hesitant. He recalls his mother's words to him from a few hours ago.

You look tired, Satoru. You're never tired.

There’s an unspoken thing residing here between both your energies and it becomes unbearably evident.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs, slipping the baby blue haori off his shoulders, draping it over the edge of the bed. “Just the cold getting to me 's all.”

Loose and darkened strands of hair lay on the silk sheets where Suguru sat moments ago. Satoru holds his breath.

My lover’s hair is splitting at the ends, tearing apart at the seams just like me.

I pray you don’t notice.

“Is he okay?”

You set the ceramic cup down on the table, turning your head to glance over at Satoru, who despite himself, wears his emotions like a cardigan knit tight between his brows.

“Why won’t you just ask him, ‘toru?”

He thinks he hates you. He hates not being more like you.

With the way you say these things so easily.

Maybe it’s the deep rooted thrum of Suguru’s cursed energy in his veins, or the bitter taste on his tongue when he wakes in the middle of the night just to see if he’s still here—

Maybe it’s that voice in the back of his head, the instinct pounding on the walls of his heart, telling him this is only for a while, it won’t last.

“You can’t lie to me.” Satoru reasons, bending his knees and folding his body next to yours, wrapping and unwrapping the length of cloth around his fingers over and over again. “But he can.”

Or maybe it’s the way he knows even if Suguru lied to him again, said it was okay, said that he’d stay, said that he’d let you and Satoru be selfish for once and keep him here, keep him tethered to this existence he loathes so much—

“Satoru…”

—he’d believe him.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” He sighs, near breathless.

You lift your hands to cup either side of his face, hooking your thumbs under the pale cloth, unraveling and unraveling and unraveling.

How many more layers?

How many more walls?

How many—

“His energy is restless.” Satoru could find other words to describe it, the aura, the shape of Suguru’s soul, his scent, his being, his whole existence. Something only you could understand.

“It’s pouring into me, and I can’t— I pretend I don’t feel it, that I don’t know that he’s…”

Different.

Suguru is different now, he wants to say.

Suguru’s unhappy with me, unhappy with us.

I can’t give him what he needs.

I was too selfish to have asked him to stay. You were too selfish in saving him.

We were too selfish. Do you think he hates me for it? Do you think he wishes he were—

“He loves you.” You tug on the cloth, let it fall and pool in endless strands around his neck. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

Satoru’s eyes are dim, bleaky sapphire and cerulean staring back at you.

Don’t look at them, look at me, look inside me, my eyes are lying, that’s not how I feel—

“He loves you too,” he says it like a confession, a secret. Love can’t be enough, can it?

Love never stopped Suguru from leaving the first two times.

Love never stopped Satoru from waking up so many nights with tears running down his neck, from where you cried for Suguru in your dreams.

Love never stopped Satoru from not being strong enough to bend the world and stretch it to fit Suguru inside.

Why should you love him whom hates the world so?

Satoru lets his head fall into the crook of your neck, body slumped over yours and breath shaky.

Loving Suguru came as easy as breathing if not easier.

He’d spend nights curled in his bed at the dorms, clicking through photos he’d taken of you three, back then, when it wasn’t anything yet but still everything to him.

“Yaga-sensei, please pair me with someone else!”

“Hah!? We not good enough for you anymore, name?”

“Satoru, name, don’t yell so early in the morning…”

And even from the first mission, when Suguru’s hair was shorter and you hadn’t quite figured out how to control your technique.

When Satoru had to save you from plummeting to your death after you sliced a curse open just for grabbing Suguru and yanking him by his hair.

Satoru thinks, maybe, he came into this world loving you two.

Because he loves me more than all the world.

“I’ll protect you,” he whispers into your neck, full of conviction.

He’s never not the strongest, except maybe when he’s here, in these moments. “I’ll protect the both of you.”

Let me do this one thing,

just this once.

Let me be the one

who holds us together.

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

tsr taglist :

@wishmemel @draecys @pearlvalley @cookielovesbook-akie @astral-hydromancy @celestair @/midnightbluehorizons @plaggi @blue-blossomss

[soulinheehee]

Hii Tosha !!! ⚘️⚘️

So i was again thinking about Arle and family, then i remembered one of you last fics.... So how do you think Arlecchino and the Reader would introduce the newborn to Lyney, Lynnette and Freminet???

Ps:: Happy late birthday !!!!

New addition to Fontaine siblings

˚⁺‧ 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘵. 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘵, 𝘭𝘺𝘯𝘦𝘺, 𝘭𝘺𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦

˚⁺‧ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘗𝘖𝘝 (𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘵), 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩, 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘈𝘍𝘈𝘉

˚⁺‧ 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴: ushsuahjhhhh thank you anonn!!🙏 dw i got ur ask back in November, it really made me smile) i really liked this idea and i didn't want to rush it so i held onto it for a bit (pls pretend that 1,5 month is a bit). back then it was also freminet's event, and I got so attached to him (even more than i was), so i wanted to try something new and started writing in his POV. buuut i was really busy with another fic and also with other things. and now im busy with updating my working space 😵‍💫 i also think this will be it, no more baby fics, this one's the last one. so anyway, I hope you don't mind the wait. happy Orthodox Christmas 🎄

previous part

There wasn't really any reason for the two of them to visit Snezhnaya. Lyney was widely known among the higher ranks of Fatui as the Knave's future successor, sure, but Lynette and Freminet?

The boy sighed as their carriage reached the House of the Hearth's main building. Don't think anything, Freminet was very happy to meet with "Father" of course, but the whole trip still felt somewhat meaningless considering she already visited them as often as her job could allow. Although she and "Mother" were absent lately...

Lyney, Lynette and Freminet entered the building; lots of children surrounded them immediately. Some very young, some older, and some almost the same age as them, -- all of them were, technically, their siblings. Although Freminet still couldn't shake the feeling of being surrounded by strangers off. But, weren't they actually strangers? They were siblings in name, but the three of them met almost all of these children for the first time. It was too much to bear, too many unknown people, looking so expecting at them, at him...

The servants showed the siblings where their room (Lyney insisted on having one for all of them, sensing Freminet's subtle discomfort, as well as being too used to sharing everything with Lynette), and after they unpacked their things, Lynette asked:

"I heard from the maids that "Father" has been staying at the House for a while now.. you two want to go see her now, or wait for dinner?"

Both boys remained silent for a few moments. Lynette really was on a more casual terms with "Father"... so much so that it sometimes scared them. She really missed her, even if she was usually the one who was getting scolded the most... Lyney looked quite nervous, and Freminet wasn't sure. He wanted to meet "Father", but he felt overwhelmed right now, even though the process of unpacking his stuff eased some of his stress.

But if he didn't go search for "Father" with Lynette right now, his next chance would be dinner. Dinner with other children. With a bunch of strangers who would definitely cast their curious glances at him, dissecting his every little movement in their childish curiosity...

"I'll go with you, Lynette. Just give me a moment..." Freminet finally mustered the will to answer. He was happy that Lynette actually waited for him to answer. As for Lyney...

"Sorry, Lynette, but I have to run some arrangements before delivering intel that we gathered..."

Oh, right. Important intel. The reason why they have arrived in Snezhnaya in the first place...

Freminet didn't know what the intel actually was, but Lyney insisted they deliver it personally, and from his words Freminet knew instantly that this information was so important that it couldn't have been handed to an agent. "Father" had also sent a letter, requesting their arrival.

This was also the holiday season. Freminet noticed all the decorations all around the House. This all felt very similar to how they celebrate New Year in Fontaine, although different.

A part of him wanted to think that the "important intel" was just an excuse to gather together as a family for the holiday.

And so, the younger siblings went searching for their "Father", leaving their older brother to join them later.

They easily found out that "Father" has been staying in her room for some time now. Why -- they weren't sure.

Though the siblings did find out why when they actually approached "Father's" room. Sounds of commotion behind the door, as well as the faint scent of milk that Freminet remembers from his childhood.

Lynette knocked on the door. ""Father"?"

The door opened some time after, when Lynette looked at Freminet and almost wanted to knock a second time. The sight they saw was almost scary in a way: "Father" looked very tired, her hair and makeup a mess, and Freminet was afraid to even begin imagining what happened to her.

"Children," "Father" greeted, her voice slightly more quiet than usual. The siblings bowed their heads in a greeting as well. "I wasn't expecting you to go searching for me right now.."

"Did we interrupt you?" Freminet asked, worry visible on his face.

"It wasn't anything too big," "Father" answered.

Oh, so we did interrupt, the thought instantly appeared in Freminet's mind.

"And where's your older brother?"

Lynette was about to reply when suddenly the said older brother appeared next to them. Lyney took his hat and held it next to his chest, bowing his head. "Father" reciprocated the greeting. Wait, did Freminet and Lynette really take so much time to look where "Father" was that Lyney has already finished.. whatever he was doing? Well that's a little embarrassing...

Though Freminet could swear that throughout the whole conversation the commotion behind the door never stopped. He could occasionally see "Mother" running around behind "Father".

"You look very troubled, "Father"," Lyney said. "If there's at least anything we could--"

He was abruptly interrupted by a sound that came from inside "Father's" chambers. "Father" took a few short moments to look at the kids before turning her attention to the sound source inside the room. The siblings exchanged glances.

After some time, "Father" returned, inviting them inside. And inside her shared bedroom with "Mother" they discovered...

... A cradle, with a newborn baby sleeping in it.

Now it makes sense, Freminet thought. "Father" and "Mother's" absence in past few months, their tired look, the sounds, the scent of milk... It was because they were taking care of... their (?) child.

"This is your little sister," "Mother" said quietly. She told the siblings the name that she and "Father" chose for the little girl. Freminet didn't know what to think even... He sat on the bed to have a better look and the baby. She looked just like any other newborn, but somehow, he felt like she was different from any other. Something about her felt special, and Freminet couldn't understand what and why he felt this way about her.

"Father" smiled: "Happy you're not the youngest one anymore?"

Freminet met her eyes, but quickly averted his gaze. "I.. don't know."

"I don't really understand something, though," Lyney rested his hand on his chin. "Why adopting such a young baby? Wouldn't it be easier to take care of one at least a little older?" He soundes very unsure of dhis words, as if "Father" would scold him for asking.

She didn't though, and only gave Lyney a tired smile: "She's not adopted. Y/N gave birth recently."

The siblings looked at "Father" and "Mother" in shock.

"Wait, but who's the father then?"

Lynette! What are you doing!!!

She probably meant biological, but both brothers still got scared for their sister's safety.

But it was Lynette's turn to get a smile from "Father".

"Lynette, you're offending me," she said.

...

"How the hell did you two do this." Lynette's expression was priceless, deadpan yet with easily readable, almost comical shock. ""Father", what else do we not know about you."

But "Mother", barely holding back her laugh, came to Lynette:

"No-no, not like that, Lynette!" She hugged the girl who still looked like her whole world has turned upside down.

"Then how?.."

"Science," answered "Mother". Now everything seemed logical to Freminet, how else would two women be able to have children together?

"Why did you say it? I wanted to tease her for a little longer," "Father" said.

"Please don't, you scared the poor girl enough already."

This whole time Freminet was sitting next to his newborn sister. Lyney then came to them, sat next to his brother and asked:

"Was this why you called for us? To tell us about the baby?"

"Father" nodded: "Partially. Your mother couldn't go to Fontaine due to pregnancy. She really missed you three, so I thought we could spend the holidays together as a family."

Lyney looked a bit down after hearing this. "But aren't holidays over already?.."

"Father" sat next to the boys, and hugged "Mother" closer to herself.

"In Mondstadt and Fontaine -- yes, but in Snezhnaya, the holiday week is after the new year, not before." She exchanged glances with "Mother".

"We wanted to let you spend the holidays with your friends first."

There was now no space left on the bed's edge when Lynette joined the rest of the family there. "When she grows old enough to make it through the travel, will you be taking her to Fontaine with you?"

"I actually thought we could use you three as free babysitters," "Father" said. Freminet recognized it as a joke, but he was still scared of the possible future where he'd have to take care of a little kid.

"Mother" was visibly exhausted, and rested on "Father's" shoulder. Mother... Freminet still felt weird calling someone else like this. Even more since the title of Mother belonged to Her Majesty. She was considered the orphans' mother, and Freminet could make peace with it, but actually referring to someone as mother, even though she was the wife of his "Father"?...

He shook the unpleasant thoughts away. This wasn't the time.

Instead, he extended his hand to the baby and gently stroked her head.

"Father" sighed, resting her hand on Lyney's shoulder.

"I've been neglecting the three of you lately," she said with a slightly sad smile. "I'm sorry." The words felt like they were said in a foreign language. Freminet very rarely heard "Father" apologize, in fact, when he thought about it, there were barely any cases.

"Oh, "Father"".. it's not like we're young kids who need attention all the time," Lynette answered, and Lyney smiled. Then, both twins looked expectingly at Freminet.

"Oh, um, yes.. We can take of ourselves," he said. He then looked at his newborn sister again. "And we understand that there's someone who needs your care and attention more than we do."

"Glad to hear you're not mad at us," "Mother" said.

"Father":

"It's late. Head to your room and rest for now. We'll have a family banquet on seventh, could I expect you to prepare a little show though?"

Lyney smiled as he got up: "Of course, "Father"! Will be done."

And so they wished each other good night.

When Freminet was falling asleep, he thought to himself: maybe he is a little excited he's not the youngest one anymore.

[boxofthings]

got any roach-centric fic recs? like idc the pairing, ghostroach/soaproach/ghostsoaporach any thats roach focused plzz

*cracks knuckles* I GOTCHU ANON this is my time to shine

If anyone wants to reply with their own pls do!

(These are in no particular order)

GhostRoach:

i left my heart in the mountains (right next to yours)

I'm going to want you 'til the stars evaporate

and here i stand (in the dirt with you)

These are all by Santihan and ugghh these were the fics that pulled me back from my near decade-long ghostroach obsession sabbatical. Well-written, emotional, they are amazing, my favs, I will rec these til I die (the first two are painful :'))

Things That Burn by abel_obel

Such a good one, I always go back to this when I'm in a ghostroach mood. Good ol' classic person A gets injured and person B freaks out

Roach Wouldn't Really Do It...

Exhaustion's a Funny Thing

Both by tinyduckies! Def read the TWs for the first one, but arghhh, I go back to these ones a lot!. I really like how the first one's more realistic/gritty when it comes to the aftermath of surviving Loose Ends

Second one's just a lovely depiction of Ghost and Roach's dynamic. Loved the banter and the second chapter ends real sweetly :)

The Barracks: Part 2

Ulterior Motives

Both by doberman, these two are much longer fics (which ghostroach is in desperate need of) and are such interesting reads!!

The first one is an AU that takes place in a pub with Ghost being his repressed, unhealthy self, and Roach coming in as the new co-worker to sweep him off his feet lol

The second one is ongoing and takes place slightly after MWII with Ghost meeting Roach outside of deployment

Sovereign by Applescone

God, this one really puts me in an introspective mood. It's so well-written and just feels so grounded and human. Takes place years after Loose Ends, with Ghost and Roach rekindling their relationship whilst dealing with the complications of Shepherd's betrayal and death

我给你早在你出生前多年的一个傍晚看到的一朵黄玫瑰的记忆 by Alex_Upshur

Ok I know this is in Chinese, but just use a translator like I did and yeah, while it won't be as accurate as the author wrote it, it's still a really lovely fic and i adore it :') A lil bittersweet look into the 141's lives and sweet moments with Ghost and Roach <3

Of Doubts and Dreams (Retold)

The Hook Up

All written by Call_Of_Booty, an og ghostroach author from wayyy back during the og trilogy (and ff.net) days. The first one's a rewrite of one of their old fics and it focuses on Roach and Ghost's dynamic up until the night before Loose Ends.

Second one's about Roach deciding to leave the SAS whilst he and Ghost have complicated feelings for eachother due to past hookups. Both great reads!

Distance Makes the Heart Pissed Off by krwaken

I'm sure every GhostRoach shipper knows this one lol. A lovely 200k word slowburn of these two <3

Fear & Delight by EpiKatt

Hornet's Nest with more GhostRoach :))

Tell Me Why This Has to End by Feral_Raccoon

ANGST :( Post-Loose Ends. Ending broke me haha

and you wrote your name / right there next to mine by cheese_n_crack

more Loose Ends angst :( A bittersweet ending with Ghost and Roach looking at the stars in their final moments

You'll Get Sick Anyways by ghostslefttit

Very short, but very cute lil fic with Ghost taking care of a sick Roach :))

If We Crash (I Hope We Do) by mintyiecat

Man I can't even begin to describe how much I love this one. Portrays Ghost and Roach's relationship post-loose ends where Roach is now a civilian. Loved how the author depicted their relationship as not flawless. Felt very human and raw. Very sweet ending :)

GhostSoapRoach

Something in the Orange by fixfoxnox

Y'all been knew this would be on here lol

Follows Roach's pov where he's been reincarnated into the reboot timeline with all his memories from his old life and him trying to make his way back to Ghost. This one makes me sad as hell. Has all the feels :')

Something in the Orange by insomniamemoirs & RandomWordsAndStormyDays

Funny how my top two GSR fics are named the same thing, but hey, they're both amazing. I was apprehensive because of the "calling Soap Roach by accident" trope, however they really diverted my expectations and made these three really feel like equals in a relationship. Really love how they made sure to establish a strong dynamic between Soap and Roach instead of pitting them against each other. And Roach isn't just some 2D character here, he's very nuanced and I love it!

Freezing Waters by AmphibianEft

Sweet fic of Roach getting injured and Soap and Ghost freaking out and taking care of him

Stress Relief by Anonymous

Just Soap and Ghost taking care of Roach after Hornet's Nest (smut) :)

SoapRoach

Leg Day by tinyduckies

Good ol' smut lol (09 soaproach mm)

Everything That Isn't Said by pajamabees

More 09 smut

Taste by fixfoxnox

Just 3.5k words of Roach wanting to kiss his captain :)

fall for me by punishervest

Just a sweet moment between 09 Soap and Roach with Soap reminiscing on his past with Price but also considering how he wants something more with Roach <3

She (Means Everything To Me) by mylareading

Just 1.9k words of Soap being down bad for Roach (super sweet)

Roanig (Roach x Konig)

I Really Like The Way You Stare At Me by turqu0ise

The fic that introduced me to roanig <3 Just a cute fic focusing on the development of their relationship

Subatomic by tinyduckies

Another nice fic focused on the development of their relationship. Loved the interactions they had in this :)

These are the ones I have so far! I'm sure later on I can add to the list, and if anyone wants to reply with their own feel free :)

I've also been made aware there are Keegan/Roach fics, but I haven't gotten around to reading them yet, but def check out their tag anon! Hope this was an adequate rec list haha

[oftidheard]

OMG pls tell me ur gonna make a part two for “where i told you to run” THE CLIFFHANGER GOT ME SHAKING 😭 i hope reader wins so coryo can stop losing his shit lmao😭

paragraphs in italics are coriolanus's 'pov'! ♡ big warning for death!!! as well as violence, blood, and typical hunger games child endangerment. this is heavy, please do not read this if you don't feel you're in the right headspace. this is a part two for where i told you to run but can be read as a standalone!

❄ so we'd both be free ㅤ⠀coriolanus snow x reader ㅤ⠀↳ 3.4k ↳ angst ↳ gender neutral

desperation takes over as your feet skid around the corners towards wovey. up until the moment she'd called back out to you, your mind had been consumed by the possibilities of what could have happened to her — of the stronger tributes killing her, mercilessly plunging a spear through her chest, or even just the possibility that hunger and dehydration could have taken her already.

but none of that matters now, as amidst the thunder of your heavy footsteps her whistling grows louder and louder.

your heart is in your throat with relief, half your mind trying to remember each corner you turn in case you need to come back through here, but the other half is on autopilot, it's only goal being to lead you to the girl you can now protect.

the whistling finally pierces your ears as if it's coming from just beside you, and you turn the final corner swiftly.

a relieved smile had been growing on your face during your approach, displaying your teeth and crinkling your eyes — but the moment you whip around the corner, it drops.

before you, instead of the little girl you'd sworn to look after, stands an alliance of three tributes armed with weapons and deadly grins.

all of a sudden, you're overly aware of the lack of anything that you could defend yourself with in your hands — having earlier forgone the bloodbath and any possibility of weaponry, in favour of running for your life and hoping for the best. now, you can't say you regret it, but you'd be a fool to admit it wouldn't be nice to have even just a blunt knife in hand right now.

their leader smirks, "looking for someone?"

time seems to slow in the moment it takes for you to identify coral mizzen and tanner in front of you, and the world grants you the split second of a chance at escape — shaking you out of your wide eyes and rigid breaths, and shoving you back the direction you came, with steps so quick you're scared you'll slip.

immediately, the footsteps of the alliance chasing after you pound through the underground, and as your breath grows heavier you realise you can't outrun the three of them like this; you need to lose them in the tunnels.

you regret not paying closer attention to your surroundings when you had the chance, but your legs carry your through the maze from muscle memory, and you're almost certain that you're nearing what would otherwise be a dead end; but had an unlocked door right after the turn that — if you're agile and just far enough ahead — you could trick them with.

you're so concentrated on planning ahead, that when something snags on your clothes — a hand clawing at you — you stutter, your legs almost tripping from beneath you.

you don't dare to look back at the grunts and yells behind you, but from the dull thud you hear just as you regain your footing and double your speed, you hope that means someone's fallen over and slown everyone else down.

but you can't risk dwelling on that, all you can do is try your best to recognise the tunnels your turn down and hope your breath doesn't run out.

you twist through the halls and enter the 'dead end' you'd been searching for — but just as you reach for the heavy door to make your escape, something sharp rips right through your coat and meets your skin.

the initial shock comes first — running now forgotten, in favour of kicking out until you hit something that grunts — swiftly followed by an unforgiving sting and the wet feeling of blood flowing down your arm.

your scream sounds more like a gasp for air as you lash out blindly, all-encompassing pain flashing through you when the blade meets your skin for a second time; not as deeply as the first, but the slice through skin followed by even more blood spilling is undeniable.

your mind clouds as you run at the adversary, arms unfurling to crash into them and knock them down.

you fall with them roughly, but when you hear the clatter of what must've been their knife hitting the ground, your vision starts to clear.

you land on top of tanner, coming face-to-face with bloodshot eyes and a scowl that shows off teeth that would rip through your throat if they could.

it's messy, as he thrashes and tries to push you off, scratching at your face and intermittently searching with his hands to find the discarded knife. you too try to search for the knife — the upper hand that could save you — the the more pressing issue becomes his hands grabbing at you looking for any way to hurt you or free himself.

in the unsteadiness, you try to sit up with your knees on either side of him and try to pull his arms away from you — but it's in vain, save for the slightest scratches that barely start to protrude his skin, as he always breaks free and reaches out once again.

in frustration and terror, you land a closed fist to his nose — drawing blood — and another against his head.

he's yelling at you as you finally reach for his neck, you can't make a single word he's saying or if they're even directed at you, but he sounds furious, like he's going to kill you — and it terrifies you. your blood burns and you claw your grimy nails into the skin of his neck, as you rest all your body weight on your bleeding hand around his throat, while the other fumbles, unsure of where to land; until it meets his eyes and pushes.

his own sharp nails attack your forearm, your shoulders, your hands, anywhere he can reach — but even as he tries to choke you back, he cannot reach your neck.

your hand that attempts to dig into his eye sockets now tries to push his arms away from where they grip to your other wrist, but flies above and past his paling face when the glimmer of a blade ahead of you catches your eyes.

you fumble to grab the weapon without a second thought, but just as it slips into your grasp, tanner is tugging at your coat and your heads crash together.

your feel like you're spinning as you push yourself up again, the world of his growls and your own gasps feeling far away — like if you were to simply let go right now it might not be so bad; if only for a chance to feel what it's like to be calm, and safe, again.

but the illusion of serenity shatters as tanner's fingers claw at the wound running down your arm; the sharp spike of pain at the contact draws you back in and kicks your body into action.

"get off!" tanner wheezes a yell as you push harder on his airways.

instinctually, your hand flies to cover his mouth in case his allies hear and come running — then you'd be as good as dead — and despite the ringing in your ears and thumping of your blood pounding like hail, you whisper.

"be quiet, it's okay, it's okay, just— shhh," you ramble almost incoherently, barely loud enough for tanner to hear; so perhaps more of an effort to reassure yourself than anyone else.

before you can think another thought — before tanner gets another chance to gain the upper hand — your wounded hand relieves the pressure on his throat only to block his breathing with a blood-drenched palm covering his mouth and nose. within the blink of an eye, your hand that grips the knife rises, and then falls; planting itself right through his neck.

tanner's hands fall from their assault on you as if all the life has just been drained from him — but you know better, as his eyes widen in the first moment of fear you've seen from him, he is still dying.

your eyes meet his silently, your gaze locked with the dying boy as you find yourself frozen.

he sputters against your palm, a wet feeling bursting upwards that can only be his own blood joining yours. you don't think it can be called breathing anymore, but he tries to get his chest to move, to keep the air running through him, to keep the blood pumping.

you just keep watching as this boy can't even writhe in pain with his neck skewered to the cold ground, the boy who could have killed you — who might still, if you don't pay attention to your wounds soon — now just lying beneath you, with a face painted in blood you cannot discern the owner of amongst both of your losses.

tears drip down the sides of his cheeks, and it flips something inside you.

you twist the knife roughly, and finally, he droops; lifeless.

now, all there is left to hear are your uneven breaths that still flow in and out of your lungs, your heart that is still beating, and—

and the echo of something heavy hitting the ground. the feeling of a vibration running through the tunnels, shaking the metal walls around you and rattling your bones.

your head looks up at the roof as dust falls, then whips to look around you. you realise you're still stuck in a dead end, with the sounds of what must be coral and mizzen approaching growing louder.

with your knife still in hand, you spring up without a second thought for tanner, and shove the door to your right open — closing it and leaning against it securely once you're safely on the other side.

your eyes slam shut as you try to re-orient yourself with deep breaths and arms tangled together in an attempt to put pressure on your gaping wounds. but as the throbbing in your ears beings to dissipate, you start to hear new noises travelling through the underground.

you pry your eyes open, only to be met with more sunlight than you've grown accustomed to since the games begun. it peers down at you from the cavernous opening just a few feet away, and you finally realise you're just below the hole that the bombing had blown open — and there are yells coming from above.

you're contemplating if it would be safe to venture back into the tunnels that you're vaguely familiar with but know coriolanus could never get donations to reach you in there, or if you should risk putting yourself out in the open arena and crossing your fingers — when you hear a deep voice call out wovey's name.

you're scrambling to the rubble before you can even remember your original plans.

rusty metal digs into your cut-open hand as you climb, but you can't bring yourself to care enough to overpower the panic running through your veins, as the deep voice starts to yell warnings to wovey; begging her to stop, that whatever threat is up there can't be trusted.

your hands slip unsteadily in the rush, and you're painfully aware of the fact this rubble could crumble beneath your feet at every moment, but you persist — and for the first time in days, you emerge from the underground.

the broadcast hadn't shown you since the air-carrier with the tank had arrived, after you'd killed tanner, and right as your eyes had widened in recognition of people nearing. then, just like that, the cameras had switched to the surface of the arena — leaving coriolanus stiff in his seat and left unknowing of your fate.

it feels like someone orchestrating the broadcast must hate him, must want him to suffer, must be doing all this just to make him sick with worry. he knows that can't be true, and that in the eyes of the capitol your fate pales in comparison to the intrigue of the opaque tank now in the middle of the arena. but none of that quells his anxieties over your survival.

as if someone has chosen to be gracious with him, as the stupid little district eight girl approaches her demise no matter how loud the district eleven boy tries to warn her, coriolanus catches sight of you emerging from the underground — and feels his heart start to beat again.

he takes a shallow breath, relief at having his eyes back on you — not any more hurt than when he'd last seen you — and armed with the knowledge that all you need to do is wait out the reptiles that will soon emerge; he smiles.

but then, your eyes sweep the arena, landing on wovey and immediately running to her. coriolanus's smile grows to a bitter scowl; he should have known you'd be foolish enough to still risk your life for that girl — in his opinion, one of your only worse qualities.

your yells join that of whose you now know to be reaper's, running as fast as you can — which now, is all but a pathetic stumble — as wovey keeps nearing the tank, simply begging to go home.

"wovey, it's not safe!" you scream through your raw throat, "stop, please!"

but she keeps walking closer, until she's so close to the centre of the arena, that with a few steps more she could reach out and touch whatever it is the capitol has dropped in here — you can't begin to guess what sort of bomb it could be or some other sort of manmade horror, but all you know is that you don't trust the capitol, especially not with wovey's life.

"wovey—!" you call out as she gets too close, when a clean click is heard.

coriolanus stands eerily still as the the cage falls open to reveal the metallic snakes.

you're still a good distance from wovey, and he hopes you have enough sense to run the other way once you see what they will do to the girl.

you gasp, freezing where you stand as a wave of colourful snakes burst out, rolling down the rubble and outwards in every direction, faster than you've been able to run since your blood started to drain.

they reach wovey in the blink of an eye, swallowing her whole without struggle, and a screamed, "no!" rips from your throat just as tears begin to water your eyes.

but still, something hopeful in you refuses to give in, and you begin again to drag your feet towards where she'd just been stood.

coriolanus's fellow mentors that still stand beside him are far too engrossed in watching their own tributes, but for those who do not have the same personal investment, he can feel the stares burning holes through his back; people silently questioning why his tribute is so stupid.

"run," he whispers, so quiet he cannot even hear himself say it above the broadcast's speakers, but embarrassingly desperate enough to hope you hear it in the hisses of the snakes and the screams of coral and mizzen — in the hopes that you will listen just this once, to save your life.

the fog in your head as you wobble across the arena is overwhelming, your hands are coated in red as a second skin — having given up on tending to the wounds — now letting your blood run freely. you hold only one priority in mind — an albeit unclear one, now that wovey is undeniably dead, just as reaper and mizzen are — but despite this all, you need to pretend wovey could still be alive; you need to hope.

your legs give in a few feet away from where the snakes had surrounded wovey's body, and you almost thank the blurriness growing in your eyes now that it means you don't have to see the girl's corpse.

you hear a scream, and all of a sudden you're the little kid who was forced to watch the hunger games every year, who covered their eyes and cried from the nightmares. your hands fly up to muffle your ears, and you can't find it in yourself — barely even half conscious, and bleeding out — to try to put effort into your laboured breaths anymore.

through the clouds in your eyes, a rainbow approaches you, slithering through the dust and rubble. you fall backwards when your arms can't hold you back anymore, and lie on the ground as you wait for the snakes to drown you.

as soon as coral falls and festus bitterly steps away from his desk, coriolanus's eyes widen.

he turns to look at dr. gaul, who still solemn as ever watches the cameras as they zoom in on your collapsing form, only to find her not saying a word.

it escapes from his mouth before he can think it over, when coriolanus yells expectantly to the silent heavensbee hall, "they've won!"

dr. gaul's ice cold eyes glide to watch him, still not a single facial expression betrays what she might be thinking — whether this is just another game for her own amusement, or if she truly plans to let you die. this only encourages coriolanus to push further, to fight for your life.

"it's over, they've won! get them out of there!"

you feel them climb up your legs first, sliding over cuts and bruises with a foreign coldness that almost feels numbingly comforting. through the ringing in your ears you're not sure whether they're truly silent or not, but to you they glide across the ground with a noiseless elegance — one that despite it all, calms you.

when they reach the tips of your fingers to the palms of your hands, you groan a the contact of scales against the cuts, but find the feeling grows to be bearable when one of the reptiles curls around your hand like a tender bandage.

they climb your body, still, and the heaviness they bring as they travel atop your chest feels like a warm blanket — a weight that quiets your groans and makes you wonder if tanner felt this encompassing warm feeling the moment before the light left his eyes.

coriolanus tries not to display just how frantic he truly feels as the snakes continue to surround you, but feels a slowly building sense of accomplishment at winning — but he knows, truly, he'll only feel victorious once you're rescued from that wretched arena and back in his arms.

"they've won, dr. gaul, let them out!" he wills his voice to not plead, and not quite command — that would get him nowhere against the person who actually has all the power — but to speak firmly, with a serious tone that exemplifies he will not let up.

a singular snake reaches your chest, curling along your collarbone and slowing it's movement, and you wonder if it's decided to rest with you.

these snakes remind you of the strays back home, of the wily cats burrowed under houses that you'd leave any food you could spare out for. or the dogs thinned to the bone that would bark at you when you got too close, but after a few weeks would learn that they could trust you, and would let you clean their wounds.

they remind you of tentative creatures thrown into unfamiliar places where they don't know if they'll live to see the next sunrise. you wonder if they're just as scared as you.

dr. gaul's chin raises slightly, remaining uncooperative for a moment more, until her eyes give coriolanus a look that he cannot begin to understand right now; but speaks to her near respect she holds for him.

her lips begin to part, when a gasp bursts from the speakers.

when the desperate breath escapes your lungs, you know this will be your last. the dog in the alley bit at your hand; the snake sat upon your chest hissed, and sunk it's teeth into your skin.

it's like a lightning strike that courses through you, your fingers immediately numbing just as you lose feeling up through your legs. a new bite is lodged in your wrist, as well as another near the first, lodging itself in your neck and rendering your airways entirely useless.

your mouth falls open, an apology to coriolanus for failing him on the tip of your tongue. but as the snakes lick venomously at your open wounds and lull you to sleep, the wheeze that leaves your lips to join the whispers of the dead; is an apology to wovey.

coriolanus pales — as though he's the one having the life drained right out of him and not you — as dr. gaul's mouth shuts the moment the bite meets your skin.

with the blood loss already having half killed you, you find that this final twist of the knife doesn't hurt as much as you might've once feared.

he can't help but watch as you die, as the breath of someone he might have loved runs out; as you leave him all alone, and drag the only warmth in his heart he had left, down to the grave with you.

*

a/n. .....i know people wanted a happy ending but i just couldn't help it... if you need something to comfort you after reading this i also have this coryo fic that's purely fluff + i have some lucy gray & sejanus fluff fics on my blog ♡

though putting it out there, if people want an alternative ending where reader lives i'm willing to write that too ♡♡ (there's a good chance i might do that anyway since even just writing this made me sad!)

@alohastitch0626, tagging you because you also asked for a part two!

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

March 28th

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1. Hi... Is there any wangxian fic in the potter world that you can recommend? I'm open to any fic, tags, dynamics etc.

Thanks in advance for answering my question. ☺️💕

are you asking for fics where characters make clay things or a Harry Potter fusion/crossover?

love potion no. 9 by ria_green (G, 2k, WangXian, Hogwarts, Oblivious WWX, Fluff and Humor, Amortentia, Patronus, Love Confessions, Fusion, POV Outsider, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions)

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2. hi do u hv outsider pov fics for wangxian like pls recommend all the ones u hv ty

the world is but a stage for the two of us by MandMandM (Not Rated, 10k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Established Relationship, Shameless WangXian)

what builds a home by Stratisphyre (T, 46k, WangXian, MY & WWX, Canon Divergence, Adopted WWX, POV Multiple, warning for JGS behaving exactly as expected, child endangerment, Brother Feels, Minor Character Death)

he sang about the stars by nenyanaryavilya (M, 29k, LXC & LWJ, WangXian, Brotherhood, Growing Up Together, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Canonical Character Death)

Su She Eats his Heart Out by KizuKatana (T, 16k, wangxian, modern, Guest-starring the belated but incendiary sexual awakening of LWJ, 3rd person pov, SS is hyperfixated on LWJ, LWJ does his best to pretend SS doesn't exist, WWX isn't even pretending he really doesn't notice SS exists, MM exists and is awesome, implied offscreen wangxian sex)

rerun from the outside by Eicas (T, 2k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time travel, Crack, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, JC POV)

🔒 born under unlucky stars by RoseThorne (M, 1k, JZX & MXY, JZX & QS, WN & WQ, WWX & WQ, WangXian, Canonical Character Death, Ghosts, Souls, Implied/Referenced Sex, Brotherly Love, Anger, Spells & Enchantments, MXY Deserves Better, Revenge, POV MXY)

love - all by vastlyunknown (M, 18k, WangXian, Modern AU, Tennis AU, Time jumps)

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3. Fo you have ploty fics? Fics where the romance or relationship part isn't much in the front just a background thing in the story. I'm looking for fics where plot is given more priority. No modern au please.

We Meet at the Thousandth Step by Admiranda, Rynne (T, 258k, wangxian, CSSR/WCZ, WIP, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, CSSR & WCZ Live, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Different First Meeting, Night Hunts, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Everyone Lives AU, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, WWX's Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, WWX Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings) Wei Ying & Lan Zhan's relationship develops as the story goes on (it hasn't been a huge focus yet) but it's plot-driven with case studies.

Bitter Plants Bearing Sweet Fruit by Kryal (T, 83k, wangxian, canon-typical horror elements, Worldbuilding, Desert, Misuse of Historic Setting, Original Character Death(s), Case Fic, aftermath of canon, Established Relationship, Nothing Explicit But Shameless Innuendo)

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4. Fo you have any fics where wwx has a personality like he has in twelve moons and a fortnight by Stiltonbasket ? People love making wwx shameless in their fics , but they make him shameless by today's time standards, which is pretty annoying and actually qi divination inducing, but in the novel wwx was shameless by the then time standards.

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5. hi an itmf request for fics similar to stolen fruit is the sweetest by mondengel. thank you so much for your hard work 🫡

A Baby Dragon’s Guide To Seducing Your Huli Jing by sweetlolixo (M, 102k, wangxian, fantasy au, dragon LWJ, fox WWX, younger LWJ, older WWX, fluff, humor, happy ending) Im not sure what theyre looking for in terms of similar but heres a few w a shameless Lan Zhan

Beautiful mess, a colourful wreck by covalentbonds (Not rated, 12k, wangxian, modern, rule 63, fluff & humor, mild smut, childhood friends, first meetings, evil vending machines)

a quest (for kisses) by kyoongs (G, 4k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Fluff, Humor, WWX being shameless WWX we love it, a little angst in the middle but squint and it's fluff again, kisses!! lots of kisses!!, wangxian are MARRIED and they have a SON)

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6. fic recs on wwx getting his old body back? thank uu

Wei Wuxian keeps / gets his OG body 

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7. favourite bottom wwx fics? thanks ❤️

Closer than my hands have been by Spodumene (E, 5k, wangxian, post-canon, established relationship, rough sex, dom/sub undertones, consensual non-con, hair-pulling, face-fucking, bondage, spanking, cock slapping, jealousy, top drop)

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8. Hey there! I was wondering if you had recs for fics similar to Harmony between a qin and se by Alaceron. Ta!

Hey! I was #8 on the March 28th ITMF. The recs were wonderful! To clarify since you asked, I was looking for anything in with similar flavour, I did not think historical au, het wangxian, or non cultivation au were the core themes 🤦‍♂️

I was going by the feel of it, which is a tricky way to find fics. Must say you were spot on with Stilton's WIP. Thanks again!

does op mean like, historical setting with no cultivation or like.... het!wangxian? Wwx being successfully scheming? Anyways, here's a few I THINK op might like

When the Hills Are All Flat, and the Rivers Run Dry by stiltonbasket (G, 5k, WIP, WangXian, Historical, Royalty, Female WWX, Emperor LWJ, Identity Shenanigans, Parents LWJ and WWX, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Humor, Love at First Sight, Happy Ending, Female LXC, Gender Changes)

The Lost Prince by hmmmmmmmm (E, 40k, WangXian, Royalty, Historical, No Powers, Bottom LWJ, Slow Burn, Prince WWX, Oral Sex)

❤️ nightingale Series by Moominmammashandbag (M, 62k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, LQY/JC, Pseudo-History, No power AU, Empires, Discussion Of Murder, aftermath of war, prisoner exchange, Grief/Mourning, LWJ POV, Angst, Emperor JZX, Imperial Advisor LWJ, widower LWJ, JYL is the Empress the world deserves, Happy Ending, POW WWX, Reunions, Fluff, Smut, Dysfunctional Family, Poetry, BAMF LWJ, emotional support goat, poetry as a weapon, Injury Recovery, Rehabilitation, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Body Image, Self-Esteem Issues, Married Life, Domestic Fluff, Childbirth)

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9. hii for itmf do you have any recs for fanfics from lan jingyi pov? could be with jingyi/jin ling but not necessarily just not with any other junior ship (smth like best friends forever by varnes)

tysm<;3 @r3n-vy

❤️ The One-Body Problem by metisket (T, 29k, LJY & WWX, LJY & LSZ, wangxian, possession, cohabitation, Mojo’s bookmark)

🔒 blue flies buzzing by RoseThorne (T, 2k, JL & LJY & OYZZ & LSZ, JC & WWX, wangxian, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & LXC, Gossip, Rumors, Mentioned Wen Remnants, Sect Leader Yao Bashing, JC & WWX Reconciliation, NHS is a Little Shit, POV LJY, POV Third Person, Threats, Justice, Cultivation Discussion Conferences, LWJ is LSZ’s Parent, LJY Being LJY, Podfic Welcome)

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10. Hi, i've seen how you help people find fanfictions and all, i was wondering if you can help me find a good Wangxian personality swap Au, if your up to it? Thank you

there is a fic where Lan Zhan was named Wei Wuxian, and Wei Ying was named Lan Zhan, which is the closed I've seen to a personality swap. I will look for it, but if anyone knows it, pls post the link! Also, there is a body swap fic, where they took on hints of each others personality. in that Wei Ying was hornier, and Lan Zhan was more ADHD coded , I'll have to look for that one too. I decided to comment in case I don't find any of these but someone else knows

Call Me By Your Name by DizziDreams (E, 52k, WangXian, Modern AU, America, University, Smut, Dubious Consent, Misunderstandings, Masturbation, Semi-Public Sex, Edging, names have been swapped, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking) I think the first fic that was suggested for #10 (where lwj and wwx have each other's names) is the modern AU

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11. ur fav dad fics where wwx or lwj raises a-yuan? especially modern? thank uuu

my little love by mellowflicker (T, 54k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Parent WWX, kindergarten teacher!lwj, Kid Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Pining)

The stuffed bunny, the beautiful nephew, and other gifts from Lan Qiren by deliciousblizzardshark (G, 8k, LQR & WWX, wangxian, Modern, Single Parent WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Uncle Acquisition, Found Family, Fluff)

box your errors by mellowflicker (T, 42k, WangXian, Modern AU, single dad lwj, Domestic Fluff, Family Issues, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, let lwj have friends agenda, Hurt/Comfort, Pining)

Single Parent Lan Wangji / Single Parent Wei Wuxian

🧡 paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 (E, 53k, WangXian, Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Everyone Is Alive, Modern AU, Dadji, Mutual Pining, Happy Ending, Brief Alcohol Mention, Masturbation, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Accidentally co-parenting with your son's art teacher, Fatherhood)

Where’s Your Emergency? by trippednfell (M, 64k, WangXian, 911 Dispatcher WWX, Single dad LWJ, Kid fic, Modern AU, D&D Games, Angst with a happy ending)

Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, WangXian, NieLan, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, Found Family, Modern AU, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, PTSD, Blood and Injury, Dissociation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Musicals, POV Alternating, Baking, Yunmeng reconciliation (eventually), Friend Zoning, Literal Sleeping Together, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks)

for you, andante by xuanxuanwo (ostentatiouslyrealistic) (T, 35k, WangXian, Modern AU, Music, Musicians, Pianist LWJ, Guitarist WWX, Kid Fic Coffee Shops, Bookstores, Existential Crisis, Unrelated JGY & QS, Friendship, Romance, Light Angst, Happy Ending)

💖 The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 71k, wangxian, modern, accidental baby acquisition, slow burn, pining, [Podfic of] The Simplest Way Forward by knight_tracer)

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12. heyyy admins! what are some of your favorite wwx and junior fics?

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13. ITMF white haired wwx!!

🔒归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home by dragongirlG (M, 7k, LSZ & WWX, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Aging, Aged WWX, Grief/Mourning, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Diaspora Feels (displacement), Dramatic Irony, Secret Identity, Pining, Brief Reference To Suicidal Thoughts, Hopeful Ending, [Podfic] 归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home by Koontyme)

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14. (ITMF) Thanks so much for all that you do! I've just finished rereading And Miles To Go Before I Sleep by glitterbombshell and I've got a hankering for more LWJ vs LXC or Lan comeuppance or even Lan bashing (I have checked that tag). I'm craving Lan angst (even LWJ as long as WWX ends up happy). Bonus if we see them suffer (vs LWJ just going nutso and killing everyone off screen). Thank you, thank you. 💕💕 @ck90

🔒💖 When has silence saved anyone? by Vrishchika (T, 6k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX & LWJ, post-canon, LXC critical, family feels, angry LWJ & LSZ, LXC gets scolded)

this blood in my mouth by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 3k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX & LWJ, Post-Canon, POV LXC)

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15. hiii itmf idol x fan wangxian aus preferably idol!wwx but the opposite works as well @nalalie

All My Songs I Wrote to Find You by Winxhelina (T, 8k, wangxian, Social Media, Bullying, Immortal WangXian, Scheming NHS, Musicians, Explicit Language, Kissing, Making Out) a bit of a twist as they're immortals who got separated in this one

The Ties that Bind Us by Dyapaya (G, 10k, wangxian, JC & WWX, JYL/JZX, JC/NHS, Idols AU, idol WWX, fanboy LWJ, College/University, Modern, Obsessive Behavior, Misunderstandings, Twitter Fic, Stalker)

If I Can't Have You by Leffy (E, 47k, wangxian, Modern, Actors AU, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Slow Burn, Intercrural Sex, Frottage, Masturbation, Blow Jobs)

time of fate is passing; or: The Great and Lonely Fudanshi; or: How Lan Zhan Defeated Heterosexuality and Learned to Love Again by verseau (E, 9k, WangXian, Modern AU, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Fandom Allusions & Cliches & References, Don't Take Seriously, Idol WWX, Fudanshi LWJ)

The Brightest Star In His Sky by Liebing (M, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Idol LWJ, past relationship, Break Up, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, soft, Happy Ending, Background XiYao, idol MY, WWX POV, Background ChengQing, pregnant WQ, Making Up, concert setting, Song writer WWX, LSZ is an unseen matchmaker, Jealous WWX, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Love Confessions, Dominant LWJ, Soulmates)

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16. I just read “a grave is all too weak a thing by Reverie (cl410)“ and now I’m hungry for multi-chapter fics with a similar premise. Does anybody know of anymore fics where others (this one has Jin Ling’s parents & Wen Qing) were resurrected along with WWX? (Like this one has them in their og bodies and even clothes so I guess their resurrections followed Untamed rules) And if no one can find any, please use this as a prompt. (The ficlet is in a prompts playlist anyway) @omgnectarina

a bird in your teeth by Eevee (ChaosBitch) (E, 61k, JYL/XY, wangxian, Let XY have nice things, Let JYL get some good dick, (sorry JZX I know you did your best), Past JYL/JZX, Past JYL/MM, All of the sex in this fic is consensual, But one of the participants IS a fierce corpse, JYL POV, Minor Character Death, I feel like this fic turned out surprisingly soft, but XY still does some onscreen murders, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mention of JGS's canon behavior, Mentions of XY's canon behavior, Also Wangxian is not the main pairing, but they're definitely here and stupider in love than ever, Angst, past XY/JGY, Hopeful Ending) This has XY bringing JYL back as a fierce corpse & WWX getting resurrected earlier than in canon. Not sure if it quite fits the request, but it involves someone other than WWX being resurrected, so I'm throwing it in

the problem with authority by isabilightwood (M, 139k, WangXian, JYL/WQ, QS & JYL, Canon Divergence, Sacrifice Summon, only the summoner sticks around, slightly dark JYL, WQ lives, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chronic Pain, Mild Sexual Content, Switch Wangxian, WWX has to be resurrected & LWJ find out before they can interact, but there’s plenty of wangxian once they do, manipulative relationship) different summon followed by eventual wwx summon.

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17. Hello, I’ve never asked this blog something before but I believe this falls under the “In the Mood for a Fic” catagory?

Any fics where it shows Lan Zhan’s pov as he realizes that Wei Ying has returned (hearing him play Wangxian)? @xinilia

🔒The Price of Old Wishes by SoManyJacks (E, 67k, WangXian, Minor canon divergence, Angst, POV LWJ, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, semi-verbal!LWJ, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide) The events of the novel from LWJ's pov

🔒 a song of joy and regret by RoseThorne (G, <1k, wangxian, longing, grief/mourning, regret, crying, devotion, resurrection, dreams, angst, LWJ pov)

🔒 Season of Resurrection by Pyrrti (G, 1k, wangxian, pre-relationship, reunions, sky children of the light fusion, multiple POV, LSZ pov, LWJ pov, WWX pov)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***