#he’s the i won’t let you around my kid until your references and background check comes back great and after a year of dating

[softestepilogue]

i like that christopher is cheering his dad on to date and ask people out. christopher is older now so he’s understanding that eddie cannot be alone forever. and that eddie is more than a parent he’s a person too. a person who wants romantic love and companionship. and eddie is learning that about himself too ! and i think it’s great that they’re learning that together.

[high-functioning-lokipath]

Prompt: "I'll Be Here To Protect You" - Loki x Reader - Words: 2,564

A/N: This sort of follows the oneshot "Worthy" but can be read alone. Basically, Reader is Silver Shadow (see Marvel character list for reference), Loki and Reader are married, yada yada, you'll see…

"Silver? I think you should take a look at this," Cap said over the comms. You, Cap, Loki, and Widow had gone to investigate a Hydra base you'd received intel on. You'd been informed that the base was abandoned but that they still had some records stored there.

"On my way," You replied to the Captain, teleporting over immediately. "Oh my goodness," You gasped at the sight that greeted you. There, lying curled up in a small cage, was a girl no older than 5 or 6. Cap ripped open the cage and gently pulled her out, holding her in his arms. She whimpered slightly and you could tell she'd been beaten. Instantly, you wanted to kill the people who'd done that to her.

"Can you help her?" He whispered, not wanting to startle her any more. You nodded and held out your arms to take her. As soon as you touched her, you started working.

"You might need to hold me up," You warned the Captain. "This is going to be tiring."

"Alright," He nodded. "Then let's get you out of here." He easily lifted you both and carried you out to the quinjet. You vaguely heard him talking on the comms but were a bit too focused to actually make out his words. He set you down on one of the chairs with the girl curled up in your lap. After a while, before the others got back, she seemed to be healed and sleeping. You were exhausted so you adjusted yourself slightly in the chair and dozed off as well.

"Y/N?" You turned your head, eyes still refusing to open with exhaustion, and groaned slightly feeling the kink in your neck from sleeping weird. "Y/N! Please wake up, hm? Please?" Someone said. Now they were poking your arm. Your other arm however seemed to be asleep, as you couldn't feel it, and you had a weight on your legs and chest. Suddenly remembering what all had transpired, your eyes shot open. "See? I told you she would wake up if I did that!" Natasha said, with what you knew to be false happiness, to the girl on your lap. The girl simply glared back at Nat before turning her attention to you, with a completely different expression. Her eyes widened and she tried smiling as though she was out of practice and waved slightly.

"Hi there," You smiled. "My name's Y/N. What's yours?" She frowned and looked away before mumbling something. "Hm? I couldn't hear you," You said.

"Helius," She replied with a frown.

"Oh," You replied. "Well, do you like that name?" She shook her head vigorously. "Would you like a new name? One just as pretty as you?"

"Really?" She asked, eyes lighting up once more.

"Yep! And then you'll have a special name for yourself! Just like I do, and just like Natasha," You said pointing at the redhead. "And-" You were about to point to your husband when you realized for the first time since waking back up that he wasn't with the team anymore. Your eyes darted back to Nat who looked worried.

"Y/N?" The little girl said quietly, pulling on your sleeve.

"What is it, dear?" She whispered in it in your ear and you nodded. "Oh yes, um. The bathroom's right over here." You took her over and opened the door.

"I get to use that?" She asked, surprised.

"Yes," You replied slowly.

"Wow! You're really nice!" She hurried inside and closed the door herself. You stood there for a moment, shocked, and Nat walked up behind you.

"She's not even accustomed to using a normal bathroom, Nat!"

"Those people, if they even should be called that," she said, shaking her head. "Are monsters." You looked around once more, trying to see if Loki had shown back up. "He's up with Steve," She said, pointing to the cockpit.

"What? Why? He's willingly spending time with the Captain?" You said teasing.

"He said he needed to think."

"Did he give any clues?"

"Not verbally. But I think he's nervous."

"About what?" You exclaimed. She nodded towards the bathroom door.

"Being a Dad."

"A Da-" you interrupted yourself, chuckling lightly. "You think just because we found her means we'll be her parents?" Nat smirked and nodded. "First of all, Tony will probably have a cow if we wanted to keep her."

"Well your husband had a horse, may I remind you."

"That was a made up story! Would you please stop referencing it!" You shrieked.

"Only when it stops being funny," She laughed.

"Second, there's probably already some rule in place that states we need to put her in the custody of Child Protective Services."

"We'll see about that."

"She's yours!" Tony said 2 hours later once you'd arrived home and gone straight to a conference room to meet with him.

"What?" You exclaimed. You hadn't even had the chance to talk with Loki yet. You glanced outside the room at the girl sitting in the hallway. The whole team was there with you but Loki had still not said a word. You looked at him but he refused to make eye contact and you couldn't read his expression. "Don't get me wrong, Tony. She's wonderful and I think she deserves the world but why?"

"You found her! Who knows if she has powers? It's best to have one of our own caring for her just in case. And besides, according to Romanoff's story, the girl practically glared daggers into anyone else who came her way."

"Alright I guess. I mean," You sighed. "Loki? Darling? Um, what do you think?"

"You've already made the decision, Stark. I will respect that and allow my wife to make the necessary changes to our living quarters to care for the child. Now is there anything else you'll be needing at the moment? I need a shower."

"Uh, no. It's-we're done," Tony said, seeming surprised at Loki's attitude just as you were. You all started to head out but Tony stopped you for a moment. "Here," He said, handing you a credit card. "Buy whatever you want for her." You smiled and shook your head.

"What do you know? The man of iron does have a heart."

"Yeah but don't tell anyone," He chuckled.

About a week later, Helius was in her new bedroom, thoroughly showered in gifts from Tony, but still not talking to anyone. Neither was Loki for that matter. You yourself were exhausted, staying up late nights keeping the girl company when she woke up screaming from nightmares. When you eventually came back to bed, you often found your husband had gotten up already and disappeared somewhere to 'be alone'. With Helius, you offered her a few ideas for a new name but she didn't like any of them. You even told her some ideas the others had suggested but she hated those even more. You seemed to be the only one she was comfortable with. With Loki, you'd tried to talk to him, even calling and texting him but he wouldn't answer. Today, though, you decided you needed to do something about both of them or else you were probably going to go crazy. First, though, you had some formal paperwork to take care of with Tony in order to have legal guardianship of her.

"I don't know what to do about it, Stank," You sighed, hours later. Tony wrinkled his nose slightly at the nickname but listened. "Half of this I honestly still can't fill out for you because she won't pick a name. I don't know how to make her socialize and I sure don't know how to get Loki to spill what's bugging him." Tony got up and walked to your side, putting his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm not sure what to tell you either, Shiny."

"Watch it," You hissed, whipping out a knife you always kept on your person and holding it dangerously close to his baby-maker. He backed away quickly.

"Maybe you just need to corner your husband and, uh, pull that trick on him," He chuckled nervously. "Ok, well, um, just hold onto that paperwork and send it to me when it's done, alright?" You nodded and gathered it together before heading back to your floor. It was early afternoon and you thought you may have a shot at talking to your husband while Helius took her nap. She'd found her own little routine to keep her occupied during the day in her room even when you weren't there. But you always had to be home when she slept because of her nightmares and she refused to socialize with others.

"I'll be in the bedroom until dinner is ready," Loki said upon your return.

"Can we please talk first?" You asked.

"There's nothing to discuss," He replied, quickly walking to the bedroom and slamming the door.

"Oh yes there is!" You exclaimed, teleporting yourself inside the bedroom.

"I hate when you do that!" He yelled.

"Well I hate when you do this! Now man up and tell me what's wrong or I really will back you in a corner with my knife!"

"I don't want to talk about it, alright?" He hissed. "Now keep your voice down or else you'll alert the child that we're having a disagreement."

"Oh, so you're finally acknowledging her?" A guilty expression flashed over his face and he turned away. "What is it, Loki?" You pleaded. "I don't want to argue. I just want to know what's going through your mind. Ever since we found her, you've been-"

"You found her," He said. "I want no part in raising a child that is not my own."

"What about your own blood?" You asked, wondering for your own future if he was against kids in general or not.

"I-" He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. But I certainly don't want to adopt. I've never seen a good result of adoption."

"Oh," You said slowly. "So that's what this is about."

"What do you mean?"

"You're worried about your own background. Is that it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," He huffed, crossing his arms and further distancing himself from you.

"Loki, please. Listen to me. You may not have had the best family situation yourself, but that doesn't mean you won't be a great Dad. I think-no-I know you'd do wonderfully! Please believe me!"

"I-"

"Mommy!" A voice called out, sounding frightened. Your eyes and Loki's widened in surprise. She'd never called you that before.

"I had better check on her," You sighed. Loki nodded and you rushed off. Half an hour later you came out of her room to find Loki waiting for you on the couch.

"What happened?"

"More nightmares," You groaned and slumped down next to him.

"Is that why you're never in bed anymore?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah. It seems she can't go more than half an hour without having another one." He nodded silently and took your hand in his.

"Well, I suppose I should commend you for your sacrifices for her. I just don't know if I can-" You shushed him, pressing a finger to his lips.

"I understand, Loki," You smiled sadly. "Mind you, I don't exactly agree. But I respect how you feel. I guess I can talk with Tony tomorrow about finding her a new home." You got up quickly, to hide your own emotions from him, and went to prepare dinner. That night, Loki made you go to bed extra early so you could actually get some sleep. You appreciated it, but your internal clock had gotten so used to it already that it woke you up a few hours later about the time Helius would be having her first nightmare. When you didn't hear anything from her room, you got worried. You rushed out of your bedroom and, as you approached her room, heard voices.

"Where's mommy?" Helius cried, again sounding frightened. Drawing your knife outside her closed door, you were ready to teleport in a surprise whatever intruder was there.

"She's sleeping, sweetheart. Do you think your new Dad could help you?" You nearly cried at hearing Loki's voice so soft and gentle with her. It took you a few more seconds to process that he'd referred to himself as her 'Dad'.

"I thought you hated me," She whispered.

"I don't hate you, little one," He assured her. "Do you want to know why I haven't talked to you yet?" You didn't hear a reply but as Loki went on you could only assume she nodded. "I never had a good father. And when you came along a week ago, I was so worried that if I tried to be your father I would mess something up. And I couldn't let that happen because you are too wonderful and too beautiful."

"I don't have a beautiful name," she sighed.

"Hasn't mommy come up with any good ideas?" He asked.

"No, well, yes but I didn't like any of them. They're pretty but," she trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"May I suggest one of my personal favorites?" You cracked the door open just a little so you could see. Their backs were to you, sitting on the edge of the bed. Loki had his arm wrapped around her as she curled onto his side, dwarfed by his height even sitting. She nodded slowly in reply to his question. "How about Arabella?"

"I love it!" She exclaimed, standing quickly and jumping up and down. "Thank you, Dad," She said smiling brightly as she threw her arms around his neck for a hug. He was surprised but gladly gave her a somewhat awkward hug back. "But what if the monsters come back?" She asked, voice trembling slightly.

"I'll protect you."

"Always?"

"I, Loki of Asgard, hereby make a promise to you, Arabella, my daughter. I'll be here to protect you forever and always." Arabella hugged him again and started crying. "Why are you crying, my dear?"

"Because you're the most bestest Dad I could ever ask for."

"Well, I, uh, thank you," He stuttered, not used to that kind of compliment. "I've got an idea. How about tomorrow morning I introduce you to some of the others here?"

"Why? I don't wanna!" You bit back a chuckle at her childish exclamation.

"But they're all really nice and they'll be like your new Aunts and Uncles!"

"Well, maybe," She conceded.

"Good! Now why don't you go back to sleep and I'll stay right here until all the monsters go away for tonight." She nodded and gave him another hug before allowing him to tuck her in. You smiled, wiping away your own tears, and snuck back to your bedroom. A couple hours later, Loki snuck back in himself.

"So how's the bestest Dad doing?" You whispered. Loki tensed up when you said that.

"So you heard us?" He said. You got up and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind.

"Yep," you said. "And I couldn't be happier. You really mean it? This means I don't have to talk to Tony tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not!" He replied grinning.

"Well then I have some very exciting news for you." He turned around, quirking his eyebrows questioningly. "How would you like to be a father to two?"

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter four

Chapter Four

summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers, library smut, oral (female receiving) lots and lots of fluff

word count: 3.9k

from the beginning <3

Everyone at work was very understanding. Almost all of them saw it coming, he was taking more sick days than normal and he wasn’t putting up a fight anymore when the 30 days was required to take rolled around. They were profilers after all.

He arrives on Thursday morning to pack his desk. The team is finally home and all together to wish him well on his future journey, giving him hugs and kisses as they each visited his desk.

They had already replaced him, Will LaMontagne was giving the FBI a shot, finally. Spending more time with JJ, the kids were old enough now to accept both of them working. And Kate Callahan was back, now that her baby wasn’t a baby anymore either.

Even Penelope and Derek showed up, bringing a cake that said ‘happy retirement’ written across the frosting. They were happy for him, they shared the same excitement he had. There was a thrill in his eyes again as they asked him about his plans.

“Tell us about this Y/N you met,” Emily cut into the laughter to get to the serious topics.

“I’ve been going to the park a lot recently and I found this little reading nook by a pond. She was there with her daughter and they invited me over to their picnic,” he realized how fake it all sounded as he continued to speak. “Her daughter is wonderful and super smart, I took them to the Smithsonian on Sunday and I’m completely smitten.”

Everyone swooned, happy to see him finally finding someone that makes him gush like this. It had been a very, very long time since Spencer has told any of them about a person, let alone someone he was in love with.

“She is wonderful,” Penelope added, “she makes the best tea and she lives in a literal Disney movie.”

Spencer laughed, “yeah she does. They probably read more books than I have, they make so many references all the time and they even dress up for what they’re reading, it’s amazing.”

They were amazed by how giddy he was, unable to stop smiling at him, “here we dressed up for the museum, I was milo from Atlantis and she was the old man in Tarzan,” he pulled his phone from his pocket to show them the photo.

It was his background now, Y/N sent it to him when he finally went back to his place Monday night, knowing he’d miss them. Not wanting him to be alone.

He was beyond proud to show them the photo, beaming from ear to ear as they all complimented his attire.

“She looks like you,” Kate added, “must be the genius gene,” she added, making awkward eye contact with JJ as they both clocked it.

“She’s exactly like me, that’s why Y/N likes having me around, it’s good for Amoreena to feel normal with the way our brains work,” he spoke about her like she was his own. Forever grateful to have her in his life.

“So when are you proposing?” Matt teased him. Knowing the feeling of love like this all too well with his perfect wife and a handful of children.

“I’m not trying to jinx anything,” Spencer admitted. “I actually have a job interview at the Library she works at later, so I’ll be around here a lot more.”

“He’ll be moved in by the end of the month,” Tara smiled, proud of him and the courage it takes to follow your heart.

“I’m going to miss you guys,” he presses his lips together softly, nodding as he avoids eye contact with them. “But you can call me whenever you need my brain, I guess.”

Hugs were exchanged as Spencer had to leave, Derek even offered to drive him back to his apartment to help with 4 boxes of books from his desk, and to have a bit of a talk like they always do.

“It’s surprisingly easy to be a dad, all you have to do is be there and love them,” Derek shared a tidbit of advice

“She told me she doesn’t mind me being like Amoreena’s dad, but I don’t think I can yet. I want her to decide when she wants me in that role.”

Spencer explains his feelings the easiest to Derek. Like he was already in his mind and knew the thoughts before he said them, Derek was never mad or disappointed in him. He loved him fully, and Spencer loved him right back.

“Like when you chose Gideon?”

Spencer can only nod, it’s still too sad to think about him being gone. “You know what it’s like, you love your father but there are other people in your life who fit the role better.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed. “You’re going to be great, regardless of the name she uses when she thinks of you.”

“Thank you,” Spencer smiled as they pulled up to his apartment, “you should bring Hank to meet the animals this weekend sometime.”

“He’d love that,” Derek smiled back at him, patting his shoulder lightly. “I’m really proud of you.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it if you didn’t first,” he admits. “You’re a strong man who decided to put his happiness first, I can be too.”

“You sure as hell can,” Derek wrapped him up in one last hug before sending him off to live that best life he was talking about.

The only person who didn’t know yet was his mother. He wasn’t sure how to tell her, he knew she’d be proud of him regardless but that anxiety of disappointing her never went away even now that he was 40.

“Spencer!”

“Hey mom,” he smiled when she picked up. “How are you?”

“I’m fantastic, Marge and I are going on a walk later to see some ducks that were born, I really love it here Spencer,” he could hear it in her voice. She was much more joyful when she was surrounded by friends.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“you sound happy, what’s going on?”

She was his mother, after all, she could know exactly how he’s feeling from just hearing him breathe or being in the same room as him. It was like a superpower, she always knew what was going on.

“I met someone,” he can’t help but smile. “And I quit the FBI to have a family.”

“You’re kidding?” He couldn’t read her tone, not sure if she was surprised or disappointed.

“Her name is Y/N, she has a 7-year-old daughter named Amoreena who is exactly like how I was as a child, you’d really like them,” he explains and he can hear his mother's smile from his end of the phone.

“I would love to meet them, you can bring them to visiting hours next Tuesday?” Diana offered, genuinely happy for him in a way that made his heart burst.

“I’ll see if they’re free and I’ll let you know.”

“I love you, Spencer,” she reminded him. “It’s nice to hear you’re happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

“I love you too, thank you, mom, for everything.”

She hangs up before they can get too emotional, leaving Spencer inside his sad little apartment all by himself. Taking the opportunity to pack his overnight bag for Y/N and pick out some books from his collection to show Amoreena.

There’s an envelope sticking out of one of his books that manages to catch his attention, taking it out to see his name written on it in Gideon’s handwriting. He almost forgot he had this, how important the words were.

Spencer,

I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me. I’m sorry the explanation couldn’t be better, Spencer. I’m sorry it doesn’t make more sense, but I’ve already told you. I just don’t understand any of it anymore.

I guess I’m just looking for it again, for the belief I had in college, the belief I had when I first met Sara and it all seemed so right.

The belief in happy endings. When you find that, never let it go, Spencer.

Don’t let this job do to you what it did to me, get out and get a life when you can. I have faith in you, till I see you again, take care, son.

Gideon

He walked over to the window then, seeing a beautiful red and brown bird perched on his fire escape. He couldn’t help but smile, “I found my Sara, thank you,” he whispers to the bird who turns its head to the side before flying off.

Gideon always did have the best timing and the best advice.

—

“Y/N, your one o’clock is here to see you,” the receptionist at the Library said over the phone, hanging up and returning her attention to Spencer, “she’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Doctor Reid,” he hears her voice as she rounds the corner, appearing behind a stack of books in the most beautiful blue dress he’s ever seen. “Lovely to see you again.”

“You too,” he smiles.

“Right this way,” she can’t help but smile as she escorts him to her office.

“I don’t normally consider people who don’t send in a resume, but I have a feeling you’re going to be good at this,” she teased him as he sat at her desk.

“Allison is going on maternity leave in a few weeks, so you won’t start until she has the baby. If you’re serious about wanting this position, it’s only Monday through Thursday, 9 to 2:30.”

“You’re not going to ask me anything?”

“I don’t know if you know this, but the literary historian and I get to spend a lot of time together, I’d rather hire someone I know I already like,” she smiled again. “And it would be nice to see you every day without a 7-year-old taking all your attention away from me.”

“You just want to live out the fantasy of kissing someone in the encyclopedia section, don’t you?” He teased her right back, making her blush. “I knew it.”

“Sue me!” She laughed, and he finally understood what tinker bell meant when she said farries are born from the purest laughter.

He was in love with her right then and there, he was sure of it.

It had been under a week and yet as he stared at her, hearing her wonderful laughter and seeing her beautiful smile, knowing she wanted to spend time with him, that she genuinely liked him and none of this was one-sided, it made him fall harder than he thought he could.

“Come on then,” he stands abruptly, taking her hand and pulling her out the door.

She tries to giggle quietly as she follows him all the way back to the quietest section of the library. Most of the books on the shelves didn’t even have bar codes because they haven’t been checked out since the 60’s, no one needs them but they can’t seem to part with them.

She backs up against the shelf and pulls him into her space, he drops her hands and holds her face instead, looking at her beautiful eyes as they sparkled in the fluorescent lighting.

“I was expecting this to be hungrier than this when I imagined it all for all these years,” she whispers, biting her lip to force her smile back.

“You’re just so fucking beautiful,” is all he can say, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs lightly a few times before finally placing his lips against hers, ever so gently.

Her hands stretched around his back, pulling him in closer till their bodies are pressed together and then she’s kissing him deeper. Breathing in through her nose like she’s trying to keep him there forever, her fingernails dig into his shirt and he knows she wants more.

He slid his thigh between hers, opening his mouth to give her all the access she wanted and letting her take control of the speed. She wasn’t kidding when she said she expected it to be hungrier. She was kissing him like it was the first time she has had contact with another human being in years, and it just might have been. She said she was single for a while before Amoreena, probably the whole time since as well.

“Spencer,” she took a moment to gasp for air, breathing against his lips as he did the same. “Can we?”

He kisses along her jaw then, moving towards her ear to whisper, “do what? Use your words.”

“Anything, just touch me please, god it’s been 12 years,” she begged as quietly as possible, tugging at his hair as he nibbled on her earlobe.

He kissed down her neck making his way towards her chest. Holding her by the hips now, she arched her back into the shelf as he kissed all the way to where her dress started to cover her breasts but he didn’t stop. Kissing over her clothes as he dropped down to his knees in front of her.

He undid his tie, slipping it off his neck and handing it to her, “in case you need to scream into something.”

She held it in her hand for a second, registering what he just said and moaning softly in response as she held it closer to her lips, he took that as a yes and slipped under her dress.

She was wearing just a pair of regular cut pink underwear, not expecting this in the slightest when she got ready this morning. He kissed her over top of the fabric, spreading her legs so that he could kiss the insides of her thighs as she tried to desperately grind into his face. grazing his teeth against her skin as she shivers, thighs shaking in anticipation.

He kisses right where her clit should be under the fabric, knowing he’s correct when she whimpers around the tie he handed her. It's muffled and adorable as he kisses her again and again, knowing she wants more and teasing her gently.

He pulls her panties to the side, mesmerized by how perfect she is for only a second before returning to the task at hand. Being the first person to pleasure her in years, wanting her to have the best time possible.

With one hand he holds her panties back, using his other to slowly swipe a single finger through her folds to see just how wet she was. Smirking against her thigh as he’s able to slip right in.

“Please,” he hears her whisper, lifting the dress up so she could look at what he’s doing.

“Such a good girl for me,” he pressed the words against her skin.

He spreads her legs even further, resting one of them on his shoulder as he dives in, sucking her clit into his mouth abruptly as he pumps his single finger in and out. She jerks her hips at the sudden contact, stuffing the tie in her mouth and biting down as she whimpers.

He knows what he’s doing, where all the pleasure spots are and what feels the best on most women. Searching around and trying different tongue movements, memorizing the sounds she makes and attempting to hear them again and again, knowing it means she’s enjoying herself.

That’s all he wanted, to please her. Not even realizing how hard he was as he continues to eat her out furiously in the back corner of the DC Public Library. He forgets they’re even in public entirely as he moans against her clit, sending shockwaves through her body.

She’s quaking then, holding onto the top of his head with one hand as the other grips a shelf. She’s panting into the material of the tie, the hot breath making its way through the fabric and stopping the whorish moans he knew she’d make. It had been too long since someone treated her right.

He added a second finger then, wanting to push her over the edge as he curled them, finding her g spot and caressing it with every thrust of his fingers. She clenched around him then, a high-pitched noise left her mouth as she finished around him.

He couldn’t help but smirk, re-moving his fingers and cleaning them off in his mouth. Releasing them with a pop before dragging his tongue along her one last time. Gathering up everything she released and placing her panties back over her nicely.

He kissed over her underwear one last time before fixing her dress and standing up, “did I manage to fulfill the dream?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, looking like she was coming down from a real high, not just an orgasm. She pulled him in close and held onto him for dear life as she continued to catch her breath, and then her hand started to wander.

“Nope,” Spencer whispered, moving her hand away from his aching cock. “As much as I want to, I’d rather fuck you at home.”

“Home huh?” She teased him, kissing his cheek softly as she pulled back.

"I love you," he whispers against her ear, without a fear in the world that she didn't feel the same way.

"I love you too, Spencer."

They couldn’t stop smiling at each other, it felt surreal to be this happy. He kissed her a few more times, staying hidden in the back corner until the blood in his body let this dick and went back to where it was supposed to be.

She just held him in her arms, leaning back against the shelves as they kissed softly, running her hands through his hair gently, over and over. She whispered a few thank you’s to him, letting him know it was everything she waited for.

It was truly perfect.

—

Amoreena was so happy to see him back at the farm when she got off the bus, she missed him during the few days he wasn’t there.

She asked him to help with her homework, her teacher assigning them an “all about me” project to showcase their growth at the end of the year ceremony. It was almost June, she only had a few weeks left before she was off for the summer and free to show him around the whole kingdom.

Y/N brought out a box of craft supplies and a collection of photos. Showing Spencer every single moment of her and Amoreena’s life.

From her first sonogram to the first bump photo, she had and every maternity shot on the farm you could think of, to the day she was born, her first bath, first steps, chocolate cake shoved on her nose at her first birthday, everything. He felt like he watched her grow up in the blink of an eye, staring at all the photos while Y/N and Amoreena made a plan for her project.

She did look a lot like him, in some instances, she even looked like his mom. There was a look Diana would get when she was intrigued with something, or when she was trying to figure something out. She’d bite her tongue and tilt her head, and it was exactly what Amoreena did.

He never thought he’d see a child-like himself this early, he always expected someone to contact him at 18 and surprise him like Rossi. He really never, ever thought he'd have a child in his life who he was blessed with watching grow up. He never believed someone would have a kid so much like him and allow him to see the world through their eyes. He was amazed by how lucky he got, to be brought into an already happy family that wanted him, they didn’t just need him.

There was no need for a father in Amoreena’s life, she was happily living her life with her grandparents and her mother, explaining to him that she had a bunch of aunts and uncles, plus 15 cousins and they all lived close too. Her life was full of people to love her, and yet she wanted Spencer to love her too.

“Can I put the photo of us at the museum on here too?” She asked Y/N, looking at Spencer to see if he was okay with it too. “I already told my friends that you’re my dad.”

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t want to cry in front of her so instead he just stopped all movement inside of his body and held it in. Looking at Y/N who was also a little emotional as Amoreena went back to looking through the photos.

Amoreena didn’t even notice how their expressions changed, she didn’t understand the weight of the words as she said them. She was oblivious to the hole in Spencer’s heart that she was filling with glitter glue, making him feel like he was whole again.

“Yeah,” he finally managed to speak. “I’d love to be on your project.”

“I know you said we don’t need dads but I kinda want one,” Amoreena’s soft expression made his heart melt even more. He was putty in her hands, willing to be whatever she wanted from him as long as he could.

“When did you say that?” Y/N asked softly, confused as to where she was when they had a conversation.

“The other morning at breakfast, um, my father left when I was little. It was just me and my wonderful mother until I was 21, then I found someone to call Dad. His name was Jason Gideon, he was my mentor and he made he feel like I was smart and loved,” he smiled, letting her know he genuinely meant it. “There’s a big difference between being a father and being someone's dad.”

“What’s that?” Amoreena’s innocent mind running wild as she tried to figure out his meaning.

“Anyone can be a father when two adults make a baby,” he said softly, making eye contact with Y/N as she blushed. Knowing where he was going with this. “But dads are special, they’re the people who are supposed to make you feel safe and loved. A person who you can turn to for advice and know he’ll love you no matter what you have to say. Dad’s are supposed to love you forever, regardless of what happens in life. Just like your mom does already.”

Amoreena leaned into his chest, pressing her head against him softly. He wrapped his arms around her gently, giving her the tiniest hug he’s ever given. “I pick you then, you’re the best guy I know and I think that means you’d be a good dad.”

Y/N silently cried, getting up from the table and walking into the kitchen so Amoreena wouldn’t see her sob. Spencer tried to widen his eyes so the tears he was generating would slip back into his tear ducts. Not wanting to cry as she held him.

“I’d love to be your dad,” he whispered, kissing her head softly as she held him tighter. “But first I’ve gotta check on your mom,” he whispered into her hair. Watching her pull away and look for where she was.

“Okay,” Amoreena shrugged, returning to her project as he wandered into the kitchen.

She was leaning against the counter when he walked in, her dress pulled up over her face as she cried into the material. Wiping her face as Spencer walked in and looking at him with the happiest smile.

She was laughing into her tears then, shaking her head as she sobbed, “why am I crying?”

He laughed then too, pulling her into a hug and spinning her around gently as she kept laughing. Her face buried into his neck as she smiled, he set her down gently so he could pull her into a kiss.

Her cheeks were all wet as he held her face, peppering kisses to her lips as they both tried to stop smiling.

“I’m going to miss hearing her call you Spencer,” Y/N whispered.

“Me too,” he giggled again. “But dad does have a good ring to it.”

tag list:

@shemarmooresfedora

@spencers-dria

@spookyspence

@reidsfish

@manuosorioh

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Palace (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! This part is inspired by Sam Smith’s “Palace”. Let me know what you think as we move more into Wanda’s territory. I don’t want to give away much but this part would take place very close to the start of Civil War.  

Summary: Certain members of the team deal with the news that you have decided to leave. A little more into Wanda’s mind.

“I'm gonna miss you. I'm still there. Sometimes I wish we never built this palace, but real love is never a waste of time”

The sound of the quinjet landing in the early morning air was a stark contrast to the serene stillness that surrounded the compound before everyone awoke. With the morning sun still below the horizon it was easy to get lost in the peaceful image. To get lost in this brief moment of tranquility before life caught up to you. 

“Y/n?”

There. The trace was broken because the serenity wasn’t real. It was just an illusion. It couldn’t erase the damage that lurked shallowly under the surface. “Yes, Capsicle?”

Despite himself Steve couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped, “Even now and you won’t call me by my name?” you shrugged with a smirk. His expression became solemn once again. “You’re sure about this then?” he nodded towards the jet. 

Steeling your features, you nodded firmly. “I think it’ll be good for me. They need my help and you all have everything under control over here… for now.” You added cheekily. 

A sigh replaced what would have normally been a laugh. “You’re sure you don’t want to say goodbye to… anyone?” He trailed off, but you knew exactly who he was referring to. Wanda.

“It’s for the best. There’s no point dragging this out any longer. I’m just a part of her past now. Plus, I want this. My purpose in life has always been to help those who need it. I’m just fulfilling that purpose, Steve.” You answered with what you hoped was a believable smile.

What you didn’t tell him was that you used to believe that your purpose on this earth was her. It didn’t matter either way because she couldn’t be anymore. 

Wordlessly Steve pulled you into his arms. You willed yourself to stop the watering of your eyes as you hugged him back. “It’s not going to be the same without you here, kid.”

Over his shoulder you noticed the sun begin to rise on the horizon. Time was running out. Soon everyone would be up whether it be for training, meetings, or just breakfast. Then you’d lose your nerve. 

With a small sniffle you pulled back and smiled weakly up at Steve. “Try not to replace me while I’m gone.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Remember if you ever need my help, I’ll be back. And-” you took a sharp breath before continuing. “And please, don’t tell her where I am.”

Steve frowned at your final comment but nodded nonetheless. “You have my word. Take care of yourself out there. Call when you can.”

With one final nod you turned and boarded the quinjet without a glance back. Steve stayed until he saw the jet disappear in the distance, dreading the moment when everyone found out. 

Dreading the moment when Wanda found out.  

It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that the questions began. Steve breathed a sigh of relief that they weren’t directed at him.

“Has anyone seen y/n?” Natasha asked, “I have this new disarming move I want to try and she’s always saying she’s too fast for me.”

Wanda perked her head up out of reflex at the sound of your name, but quickly diverted her attention back to the book in her hands. It wasn’t like you would want to see her anyway. That didn’t stop her from eaves dropping on the conversation that was happening around her though. 

“Probably in her room, avoiding our afternoon run I’m sure.” Sam chimed in.

Natasha shook her head, “Already checked there. Anyone else seen her?” She asked the remaining Avengers in the room all of them shaking their heads except Steve who walked away to the kitchen. Wanda was the only one other than Natasha to notice. 

“What aren’t you telling us, Rogers?” Natasha questioned as soon as she entered the kitchen. Her head tilted in challenge.

He huffed out a tired sigh as he leaned against the counter. “Nothing.” He replied shortly which caused Natasha to quirk an eyebrow.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. please call y/n for me and tell her to meet me in the kitchen.” She stated firmly while maintaining eye contact with Steve.

The robotic female voiced sounded moments later. “I’m sorry, Ms. Romanoff, that is not possible as Ms. Y/ln is not currently at the compound.”

Steve rubbed his temple wearily, he had hoped this conversation wouldn’t have to happen so soon. “Where is she?” Natasha countered quickly.

Once again, the robotic voice responded, “That is classified.” Neither Steve nor Natasha noticed the figure that was stopped in her tracks at F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s words. 

For a moment Steve and Natasha remained in a silent stand-off, neither backing down. “Where is she?” she repeated, this time directed towards Steve.

“I can’t tell you that.” he replied quickly.

“What can you tell me?”

For a moment he seemed to think about it, about what he could say without breaking his word. “She’s on a mission.” 

That isn’t entirely out of the ordinary, Wanda thought to herself as she began holding her breath nervously. She had a bad feeling about this.

“Where?” Natasha fired off.

A mere shake of his head was all he gave her, “I can’t tell you that.” He repeated.

“How long?” Natasha stared at him for a moment, analyzing his solemn nature. Realization quickly dawned on her. You weren’t coming back.

There was hesitation in his words as he drew them out slowly. Almost as if he was coming to terms with the words himself. “Possibly a year, maybe two…” he drew in a breath before continuing. Wanda dug her nails into her palm. “It’s most likely indefinite. She may never come back.” He finally concluded somberly. 

Wanda couldn’t contain the gasp that slipped passed her lips. Natasha quickly turned her head in the direction of the sound, her own sadness taking a back seat when she noticed the look on the younger girl’s face.

“Why wouldn’t she tell m- tell us anything?” Wanda demanded desperately, her accent heavily pronounced and her eyes wide with distress. Steve didn’t reply, he couldn’t find it in himself to. He merely looked at her with pity. 

She knew why you didn’t tell her anything. She understood, and her legs felt like they’d give out under the weight of that knowledge any second now. 

Taking pity on the girl Natasha hesitantly made her way over to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Maybe you should go sit down.”

Erratically Wanda pulled herself out of arm’s reach and marched over to Steve, her eyes watering despite her aggressive tone. “Tell me where she is. Right now.”

Steve didn’t waver, his conversation with you playing over in his mind. “I can’t.”

Red wisps began floating around Wanda’s hands as her eyes began to glow. “That’s fine. You’ll tell me whether you want to or not.”

Natasha tried to step in, but Steve merely raised his hand. “I can’t because she didn’t tell me. She thought this might happen. She only told me that she’s leaving and how long she’d be gone. She didn’t tell me where she would be located.” He lied smoothly, surprising even himself. He refused to break his word to you.

Wanda’s eyes slowly returned to their normal shade of green as her shoulders slumped, the fight draining from her body. Steve gently placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “She wanted me to tell you that she was sorry. To all of you.” He added as he looked up at Natasha who nodded sadly in understanding.

At his words, Wanda merely shut her eyes, she knew that they should have brought her comfort, but they didn’t in the slightest. His words wouldn’t change the fact that you were gone and would quite possibly never be back. She knew she had no right to be upset. She made her decision, now she would have to live with it. That knowledge didn’t stop it from hurting though.

“Did she say anything else?” she asked quietly, clinging to any information she could get. Trying desperately to gain control of her emotions.

“That she was fulfilling her purpose by going. Helping others.” Steve offered.

Natasha smiled faintly at his words. “Sounds like destiny then. That’s definitely something she’s good at.” 

Wanda couldn’t have agreed with Natasha more. You were destined to help others. You helped her, saved her, and now you’d be a life raft for others. The secret of your love would no longer be an exclusive privilege that only a select few knew of. The true and whole-hearted way in which you loved her would be given to another. 

One day, she would merely be a ghost of your past. She would become a painful story that you’d share in the arms of another. Her heart fluttered anxiously at the thought. 

It was as though news of your departure made her aware of what her stubborn mind and your usual steady present prevented her from seeing. “Wanda?” she faintly heard a voice call out to her.

Her features remained neutral. The dull ache tightened in her chest. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop it. “Yes?” she replied flatly.

Natasha placed a comforting hand on her arm, a look of concern on her face as Steve watched curiously from where he stood. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Wanda replied, waving her hand. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

Both Steve and Natasha exchanged uncertain looks as they watched Wanda exit the kitchen area. With her mind so muddled Wanda just began walking, a laugh escaping her lips when she finally realized where she had gone on reflex. The roof. The same place you both had actively avoided since that fateful nights a few months ago. It was bittersweet. 

She took a seat in the same area you had both sat in countless times before as she pulled her knees to her chest and looked around. It was almost as if she could still hear the soft music playing in the background and the sound of your occasional humming from right beside her, never expecting anything more from her. An unmovable force. A quiet pillar of support that she so often relied on. That was all just a memory now.

She always dreaded the idea that one day she would lose you, she never would have guessed that she would have lost you at her own hands.

In the solitude she finally allowed a few silent tears to fall down her cheek, allowed herself to feel what she had been refusing for so long. She was going to miss you, she knew that much. She was going to miss the beautiful relationship that you had created together, the same relationship that was mere ruins now. She just hoped you would forgive her one day, she hoped that you would return one day soon. She didn’t dare allow herself to hope for more. 

“Wanda?” came the sound of another voice. The contrast of night surprising Wanda when she focused on the world around her once again, she must have been up here for hours. A moment later Vision came into her view.  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Is something wrong?”

She bit her lip, not ready to talk about the chaos in her mind yet. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Wanda eventually mumbled.

A look of confusion covered Vision’s features, “Is this about Y/n?” he pressed.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She repeated with growing frustration.

Again, Vision stared at her with confusion. “My findings have suggested that the only way to properly process sadness is to talk about it.” He replied matter-of-factly.

As much as she didn’t want to, she couldn’t help but compare how you comforted her to how Vision was attempting to. “Well, your findings don’t apply to everyone.” She said, her tone laced with irritation.

“My findings are rarely ever wrong.”

Wanda groaned. “Can you just hold me?” 

Cool arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. For a moment he just held her in silence. The silence did not last though. “I still believe it would be beneficial for you to talk to me about how you are feeling.” He insisted once more. 

Wanda ignored him, not having the energy to argue back.

Even though she was in Vision’s arms, all she could think of was you. About how desperately she wished to be in the arms that said they’d never let her go. The arms that she forced to let go. She couldn’t help but feel like she was sinking ever so slightly with no life raft in sight.

There you have it, part 7! Technically this is the first part of this series I wrote with a lot of touch up. As always, I hope you all enjoyed. Thoughts and comments always welcome. :)

[spacedikut]

lockdown lovers ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: lockdown!au. spencer goes from expecting his days to be filled with books, books and more books to books, an asshole cat, and a cute anonymous neighbour. 4857 words

a/n: i was so excited about this and stayed up writing it so i hope you like it too :)

masterlist

It’s three days into lockdown when Spencer notices the cat.

It’s a Maine Coon, he recognises instantly, but there’s this distinctive… dead look in it’s eyes. The body is huge – so fluffy it looks like the cat has a mane, ears invariably up straight and large enough that the eyes look beady in comparison. A mixture of white and grey throughout, the cat spends its days lounging across the windowsill of the apartment in the building next to Spencer’s.

He’s fascinated. How can a cat be so big, so ugly, yet so lovely?

He has to know more.

If he was anyone else, he’d argue the obsession is the fruit of going stir-crazy in his apartment. A lack of seeing his friends combined with having to work cases from home would be the perfect justification for Spencer to move his work station to the window facing the cat.

But this is Spencer. He’s happy being stuck home. He just likes the look of the cat.

He spends a good twenty minutes rifling through his stationary to find a piece of paper and the appropriate pen to jot a note for the cat owner. He thinks the owner must be stuck home, too, so if he sticks the note to his window and waits a day, he could know the cat’s name within twenty four hours.

They’ve had plenty of staring contests. Spencer should know his rival’s name.

So he does. He takes his time writing out the words “I like your cat. Do they have a name?” clearly on the paper, then spends a good five minutes deciding where on the window to stick the message.

He decides on the upper left corner. You won’t miss it.

The cat blinks sleepily at him as they watch Spencer tape the question up.

There’s an answer within three hours.

Spencer is too excited to be embarrassed at how enthused he was when he noticed the response.

Or when he saw the name.

Hi there! His name is Mr Darcy :) He’s a dick x

Spencer can’t help but profile the writing, the syntax, the grammar.

The first thing he notices is there’s a feminine lilt to the way you write – you’re a woman, most likely. The writing is slightly messy, indicating high intelligence, and the use of a smiley face and a kiss makes him think you’re younger in age. If you live alone, which you must because you live in a one bedroom apartment, he can safely guess you’re around his age.

And Mr Darcy… you’re a bookworm. At least for romance and the classics.

Spencer likes Mr Darcy. He has so many questions, suddenly, like how is Mr Darcy a dick and how old is he and why does he never seem to move from his position by the window and what is your name and who are you and do you happen to read a lot of books? Like Ray Bradbury? Please say yes.

He shocks himself. Maybe this quarantine is getting to him more than he realises. He hasn’t felt this excited since Maeve.

He hasn’t been this intrigued since Maeve. And the circumstances are similar, he realises.

No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Spence.

He worries himself into a spiral when he begins thinking about how to reply. As if she can hear his whining, Penelope calls him.

They’ve made it a habit to call one another a lot. She recently taught him how to use his webcam and has been encouraging him to write more on his computer, rather than by hand.

“Good afternoon, my favourite Doctor.” She sings. He hears some shuffling in the background and can tell she’s baking.

“I need your help with something.” He cuts straight to the chase.

Her interest is piqued, “Oh? I am all ears.”

“Remember the cat I mentioned?”

“The ugly-but-beautiful majestic beast that, if you believed in reincarnation, would’ve been a high class gentleman in his past life? Yes. I think about him every day.”

“His name’s Mr Darcy.”

She lets out a screech, a mixture of a groan and moan that is filled with pure glee. “Of course he’s called Mr Darcy! Tell me everything. How do you know?”

He’s clearly impressed with himself when he says, “I asked.”

“Whoa.” Penelope freezes in her kitchen. “Are you, Doctor Germaphobe, breaking the lockdown rules?”

Spencer feels insulted. “No! Never! I stuck a note to my window, like in that viral tweet you sent me.”

She chuckles, “Well, I already told you I could’ve told you everything about Mr Darcy and the owner if you wanted me to. I am incredible.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Garcia-“

“But it’s morally wrong. Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. What have you said back?”

“That’s what I need your help with.”

Garcia is only a little surprised he’s asking her and not Derek. But, then, as much as she loves Derek, he’s a bit too.. much for someone like Spencer when it comes to love. Spencer approaches people gently, hesitantly, often giving the impression he doesn’t even want to be there.

Derek can have anyone on their knees within minutes.

Different tactics, that’s all.

“Alright, pretty boy. How long have you been talking? Purely through window messages? What else has been said?”

“Well,” He begins, clearing his throat, making eye contact with Mr Darcy, “We’ve only spoken once. When I asked for Mr Darcy’s name. You know, studies have shown that animals can form lifelong friendships with other animals, even if they’re not from the same species.”

“Spencer.”

“Most research has focused on chimpanzees, baboons, horses, hyenas, elephants, bats, and dolphins - but there’s no reason to think that friendship is exclusive to these species.”

“Spencer!”

“What?”

“You’ve spoken to them once?”

“Her. Spoken to her once. And it wasn’t speaking, it was writing.”

There’s a long sigh down the phone. “First of all, how do you know the owner’s a girl?”

There’s movement in Mr Darcy’s apartment. Spencer stares. “The way she writes.”

“Uhuh,” Spencer can hear her stirring something through the phone, “And what was the last thing said?”

Spencer’s eyes narrow – is that a person? Is that the owner? Is that her? Oh my god.

“Spencer? You still there?” Garcia looks to her laptop, checking the call is still connected.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. The last thing she said was his name is Mr Darcy and he’s a dick.”

“Oh,” Garcia smirks, “It’s sexy hearing you say dick.”

In normal circumstances, Spencer would register her comment and give a very distinct huh, but he’s distracted.

He sees Mr Darcy meow. A hand appears, petite, with fingernails painted yellow that have smiley faces on them. She brushes Mr Darcy’s fur back, pulling so the skin around his eyes tugs up high and he looks stupid. He seems to like it, though.

She must like smileys, he thinks.

Mr Darcy stands and stretches. He’s alarmingly long.

It’s silent on Garcia’s end, where she looks confused at the sudden silence. She checks again that the call is still connected.

“Spence?”

“Still here. Sorry. I thought I saw her.”

“Oooo,” She’s all giddy, “What does she look like? Is she pretty?”

“I couldn’t see her properly. I can tell she’s too cool for me already. This was stupid.” He sighs, “Forget I said anything. I’ll take knowing Mr Darcy’s name and move on with my life.”

Spencer moves to hang up, but is interrupted by a loud “No!” being shouted at him by Garcia.

“No, Spencer! No! You write something back to her right now and you form a friendship with someone that isn’t one of your colleagues. I love you with my whole heart, and you know that, but it would be good for you to expand your social circle!” She grins and bites her tongue between her teeth, “Aaaand.. this could be the start of a quarantine romance. God, I miss dating.”

At the mention of romance, Spencer visibly flinches. “I’ll see what I can do. I gotta go, Garcia, thanks for calling.”

“Love you. Please marry her so Mr Darcy can be the ring bearer.”

And she hangs up. He’s left contemplating whether he should respond, and what he should respond, as he watches the empty space where Mr Darcy is absent.

It must be dinner time for him.

+++

I’m curious as to how someone named Mr Darcy can be a dick.

That’s a good response, right?

Right?

It lets you know he gets the reference, he knows who Mr Darcy is named after, and leads you to continue the conversation. It’s perfect.

It’s taken him nearly two hours to come up with it. He feels exhausted.

He sticks it on the window, where Mr Darcy has returned to, and huffs out a breath.

He reminds himself to be calm and cool. This is simply a way to pass the time during quarantine, there’s no need to put too much pressure on himself to think it’s anything more or to put more effort than is necessary (he says, after spending two hours formulating a response).

Calm and cool. Cool and calm. Neither are words Spencer would ever use to describe himself.

Spencer stays up until nearly 1am reading. Just before he sleeps, he walks to the kitchen to get some water, and can’t resist checking to see if you’ve responded.

You have. He ignores the way his heart speeds up.

He used to share the windowsill with my other cat and a bunch of plants. Now he bites anything that attempts to move near him. He also likes to vomit on my pillow. My single pillow.

Spencer chuckles as he reads it. He remembers when the window was full of plants, and how one day they all just… disappeared. He assumed the person moved out, but now it’s funny to think that you had to move them all because Mr Darcy demanded he own that space.

He doesn’t recall ever seeing another cat.

Well, now he has to respond. He needs to know about the other cat!

He imagines Derek coming to him in an apparition, like some sort of angel, and saying, calm and cool, kid. Calm and cool.

Spencer decides he’ll reply in the morning. Cause he’s calm and cool, and totally doesn’t want to know anything and everything about you and the two cats you live with.

+++

The messages continue for days. Spencer learns a lot, despite his “attempts” to not profile you (“attempts” as in there was really no attempt).

He learns you were given Mr Darcy by a friend, he’s two years old, and your other cat is the recently adopted, affectionately named Stupid Sally. She’s a ginger cat, estimated to be at least four years old, and you refuse to believe there’s anything going on in that tiny head of hers.

Spencer catches a glimpse of Sally a couple of days after he learns her name. She jumps up beside Mr Darcy, bonks her head on the window, then is whacked by Mr Darcy and falls from the windowsill. Sally doesn’t make another attempt.

He still hasn’t seen you, though. The longer he talks to you, the more he wants Garcia to send him everything she can find on you.

But he has restraint. And fear.

He wants to know more, wants to learn more about the anonymous girl in the opposite building. He doesn’t even know your name, and he assumes you don’t know his, and he’s not entirely sure what number apartment you live in.

He considers asking to convert your conversation from post-it notes on windows to hand-written letters, but that reminds Spencer too much of Maeve and he can’t handle that.

Do you know how difficult it is for Spencer Reid, with all his knowledge and facts and ramblings, to limit himself and how much he says?

It’s torture.

The sun is blinding when Spencer pulls his curtain back, eyes navigating to see if there’s a new message waiting.

I haven’t asked, do you have any cats? Any pets? Mr Darcy would be a terrible boyfriend but Sally could use a lover :)

Before he can stop himself, his mind is whirring with the possible implications of your message. Does this mean you want to meet? You want to know about him as much as he wants to know about you? You’re interested?

He needs to call Penelope. He wants to talk to you so badly, learn everything there is to know, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The situation reminds him of Maeve and, although it’s been so long, he’s still mourning. He’s not sure he’s ready.

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry. You’ve got your own plan.

+++

“So,” Your friend sighs, flopping onto the couch, “You got his number? His name? Anything?”

“No,” You pout, “Not even sure he’s a guy.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

You playfully gasp. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I am insulted.”

She chuckles. She knows all about your curious neighbour - she’s the one that encouraged you to reply and keep replying. And now she’s the one trying to convince you to form an actual friendship.

“Just put your number on your window.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is?!” You scold, “Anyone could see it!”

“Yeah, but neighbour guy could see it. And text you. And be really cute.”

You can’t help but glance behind you, into your bedroom window, where the infamous window is. Mr Darcy lounges, completely zonked out with the sunshine keeping him warm.

“What’s the worst that can happen? Some random people text you and you, what, block them? That’s it. Easy.”

Life is so easy for extroverts, you think.

You grab your notebook, rip a piece out and jot down your number before you have a change of heart. You’re essentially double messaging through the medium of your window messaging. But who cares?

What have you got to lose?

+++

Spencer stares at your phone number for way too long. Mr Darcy, as if sensing Spencer’s battle, lazily lifts a paw and rests it against the paper, pushing it into the window.

Spencer dials Penelope’s number straight from memory.

“I was beginning to think you’d died, Spencer-“

“Is it a terrible idea to start texting with Mr Darcy’s owner?”

“What?!” She exclaims, “No! No no no no no! That is an incredible idea! Spencer, please tell me you’re texting her!”

Penelope’s excitement gives him a rush of confidence. She’s always so supportive, so encouraging. Penelope is the best.

“I’m staring at her phone number. I just- we know what happened last time..” He trails off, voice meek. He wants to pretend he isn’t constantly thinking about the worst outcome, but he is. He’s scared.

Penelope’s voice is soft down the phone, “Spence. You have nothing to be afraid of, okay? I’m so proud of you for even considering texting her. But if you truly think you’re not ready, maybe you’re not. But remember, this doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to. You can keep the conversation to cats and cats only.”

Spencer smiles even though she can’t see him. She’s right. It doesn’t have to be anything and, honestly, it’s likely it won’t be anything – after all, Spencer isn’t exactly confident when it comes to women.

She might also have a boyfriend. A husband. A wife. He doesn’t know.

He realises he’s started thinking way too deep about someone he doesn’t even know the name of.

“Does that silence mean you’re gonna text her?” Penelope questions, suspense and hope clear in her voice.

“Yeah,” He replies, glancing at Mr Darcy, “I am.”

+++

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Hello. I’m Spencer.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner] hello??????? do i know a spencer?

Embarrassment flushes through him. What a weird way to introduce yourself, he chastises himself, Great first impression.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s owner]: Sorry. I’m the one that’s been asking about your cats through the window.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: really? prove it

He wants to feel insulted that you’re so suspicious, but is simultaneously impressed that you’re so cautious. It makes sense to worry after posting your number for anyone to see.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Of course. I’ll put a note on my window with my number now.

He does just that, shuffling quickly and frantically like he does when his mind is moving a thousand miles a minute during a case. He slaps the note against the window, unable to resist hovering on the off chance he spots you.

His phone buzzes.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: oh hi spencer! im Y/N, owner of Mr Darcy and sally :)

He can’t help but chuckle at the sudden change of tone. You take stranger danger seriously, it seems.

Why does he find that so endearing?

He’s getting ahead of himself, again. Calm and cool.

They pick up the conversation from where the last note left off, where you asked Spencer if he has any pets of his own. He finds it much easier to talk to you like this, rambling and all, which you don’t seem to mind. Your texting style is distinctively different to his, making his phone vibrate multiple times as you send each sentence of your message separately. He prefers writing chunks full of information, all with perfect grammar and punctuation.

You teach him what ‘wtf’ means and when he sends a meme to Penelope with that caption she loses her damn mind.

She decides she loves you there and then.

A friendship blossoms. It’s odd, he doesn’t know what you look like and you admit to catching a glimpse of him when he showed you his number through the window, but other than that you have no idea what the other looks like.

You know so much about eachother’s lives, though, and so much about eachother. You know which apartment you both live in, he’s got a whole list of reasons why Mr Darcy is a dick and he kind of agrees, you even know that he’s an FBI agent.

Then it happens.

He discovers what you look like.

He wants to play it off as an accident, he really does, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

The area under the window opposite yours has become his new sanctuary. He spends way too much time there, reading and whatnot, and he tries to pretend that it’s so he can watch Mr Darcy all day every day, but there’s always been a part of him that wants you to walk by. Maybe stop right in the centre of the window, pause, let him get a good look.

That’s exactly what happens.

He’s doing some “light” reading before he moves to his bed, where he will continue to read, and he sees the main light in your bedroom switch on. You always have a light on – you’re scared of the dark, just like him, but the main light catches his attention because Mr Darcy looks back and meows.

Someone’s in the room.

For some reason, he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s not the first time he’s noticed someone flutter around the room, never managing to really show themselves. It could the best friend you told Spencer about, the one that you’ve been stuck living with the past month or so.

But it’s not.

A girl appears, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts with still-wet hair. She dangles a cat toy before Mr Darcy, which he swipes at twice, then looks away, uninterested.

She rolls her eyes at that, then starts dancing and mouthing along to a song Spencer doesn’t recognise. Now he can’t stop staring – she’s captivating, whoever she is, as she prances around her room, arms flailing around and serenading a very unimpressed Mr Darcy.

This has to be you, he thinks. He doesn’t know why, but this has to be you.

Your passionate singing dies out. It’s the end of the song. Before the next one can begin, you happen to look up and through the window, straight at Spencer.

And you disappear.

You collapse. You definitely scream a little, dramatically falling to the floor and hiding under the window with your back to the wall.

Holy shit. You think. He’s cute and he saw me singing to my asshole cat.

He must think I’m crazy.

Spencer keeps staring at the now empty space of your window, Mr Darcy having been spooked by your exit.

He thinks he might be in love.

+++

Neither of you know what to say to one another after what transpired.

You’re too embarrassed, Spencer feels a little star-struck, and you’re both speechless.

Neither of you expected the other to be so.. attractive.

Your phone is thrown in your lap. “Do it. Do it now.”

In a daze, you blink up at your friend, “I can’t.”

“Don’t make me threaten you.”

You blink.

“I know where he lives. I will obliterate the lockdown rules to go talk to him and drag him here, then you can deal with this face-to-face.”

Your mouth falls open. “Are you insane?”

She unlocks your phone, opens your conversation with Spencer, and places it in your hand.

“Yes.”

+++

[From: Y/N :)]: did you at least enjoy the performance…..

Spencer’s whole body prickles when he sees you’ve texted him.

Maybe Penelope’s manifesting did work.

[To: Y/N :)]: I did. I didn’t expect our face reveals to be so…

I honestly don’t know what to say.

[From: Y/N :)]: s doctor reid speechless? am i that talented?

Spencer lies back on his couch, beaming at his phone like a teenager in a cheesy chick flick.

[To: Y/N :)]: You’re very talented. Mr Darcy clearly disagrees, but don’t listen to him.

And just like that, you’re back in the flow of things.

+++

When July rolls around, you and Spencer have been talking every day since March. Despite the monotonous, repetitive days, Spencer wakes up giddy when he sees you’ve texted him. He usually wakes up earlier than you, you have a habit of playing games or watching television until the early hours of the morning, and he loves to send you a fact to wake up to.

Your favourite are the animal facts. He got Amazon Prime just so he could buy a plethora of animal books and watch animal documentaries. All for you.

At one point, you evolved to phone calls. They don’t happen often and the first one was while you were drunk, but they’re fun for the both of you.

It had been a Saturday, you and your friend were having a movie marathon with wine and of course she brought up Spencer. She choked on her drink when you told her you haven’t heard his voice or seen him since the incident.

“You should call him,” She slurred, “Tonight.”

“He’s working on his jigsaw. I’m not going to interrupt.”

She gave you this incredulous look, asking Really?

“What?! I have respect for him and his jigsaws!”

“Have respect for yourself and how cute he is!”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

She sighed, placing her glass on the coffee table with a clunk, “Picture this: you’re helping him with the jigsaw.”

You couldn’t hide the slight upturn of your lips at the thought. You both love jigsaws, doing one with him would be stupidly romantic to you.

“Yeah.” She nodded ridiculously, “That ain’t gonna happen if you don’t call him!”

In your drunken state, you realised she’s right. You called him that night for a total of ten minutes before you passed out after calling him super handsome.

You both went to sleep feeling warm inside. Spencer called you again the next day, where the call lasted nearly two hours, and it went from there.

But now the lockdown rules are being eased. People are going back to work, meaning establishments like restaurants and hairdressers are opening up with limited capacity, all breathing beings expected to wear a mask.

Neither of you have mentioned actually meeting one another. You’re too nervous. What if he doesn’t like you? What if the image he’s created of you in his head is way better than you are in real life and he’s disappointed? What if he doesn’t want to meet you?

Spencer worries about the exact same things.

So neither of you say anything.

+++

It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes Spencer’s mail gets sent to the wrong address. Perhaps to his neighbour, the person living across the hall, or someone on a completely different floor.

Twice, Spencer’s mail has been delivered to the apartment building next door. The building he now exclusively calls “Y/N’s building”.

Now it’s three times.

Unphased by the mask on his face, Spencer glances around the lobby of your apartment building and wonders what your routine is when you get home. Do you immediately check for packages? Look at the noticeboard? Or do you go straight up to your apartment?

Spencer walks to the reception desk, smiling politely even though the person can’t see it.

“Hi, I’m from the building next door. I think my mail was accidentally sent here?”

He clicks a few buttons, types a few things, then flippantly asks, “Apartment number?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Let me go get it.”

He takes his time leaving his chair and wandering through a door. Spencer glances around. There’s a few people, all wearing masks (Thank God), doing their own thing.

There’s two girls next to him. He eavesdrops, because he’s bored.

“I’m too used to living with you now,” The girl facing him pouts, “I don’t want to go.”

The girl with her back to him laughs, light and sweet, “You live a block away.”

“You know Sally is gonna miss me.”

Sally? As in…

“She’s gonna miss you only because you feed her too much and now she’s fat.”

Wait.

“C’mon, Y/N-“

Spencer blocks out the rest cause holy hell. You’re right there. You’re standing right next to Spencer, in all your glory, and you have no idea that he’s right there, too.

Should he say something? Should he introduce himself? Should he..

“Here, sir. My apologies for the mix-up.” The receptionist re-appears, handing Spencer his mail.

“Thank you.”

And Spencer leaves.

Except he doesn’t.

He stops outside the reception entrance, takes out his phone, and texts you.

[To: Y/N :)] This is weird but I’m right outside your building. I think you’re in the foyer and I’m too scared to approach you.

Two minutes pass before the building doors fly open.

Your head swivels back and forth. When you find Spencer, adorable and awkward Spencer, he can tell you’re grinning from the way your eyes bunch up under your mask. God, he knows you have the most beautiful smile. Everything about you is beautiful.

“Hi,” You breathe.

Spencer mouths a silent hi. You’ve taken his breath away.

“I-um. It’s good to see you in person.” Your voice is soft. It’s soft, and smooth, and so much prettier in real life. It’s already pretty through the phone, but the real version shoots straight to his heart.

He gulps, “Yeah, it’s.. Unexpected, but nice.” The corners of his mouth quirk up and he can’t tear his eyes away from you, “You’re even more gorgeous in real life.”

The compliment rolls off his tongue naturally because it’s true and from the second he spotted you he’s lost all logical thinking.

“I am?” You ask, gentle and hesitant, almost asking are you sure you mean me?

Spencer blushes, somewhat embarrassed by his confession. But he meant it, Spencer’s not the type to say things he doesn’t mean, and you don’t give him time to regret it-

“Would you like to get some coffee? If you’re free now?”

Would it be too much if he screams Yes?

“Yes. I’m free,” He ignores the mail in his hands, stuffing it in his satchel, “But let’s avoid Café Nero, I assume you still haven’t recovered from the nightmare latte you had there.”

You grin, which makes Spencer feel fuzzy, flattered that he remembers anecdotes from your texts.

Of course he remembers. You remember he has an eidetic memory.

You shyly brush your hair behind your ears, both sides, and Spencer spots the bright red of them. You’re flushed, just like him, and it fills him with confidence to know you’re the same mixture of excited and anxious about meeting him in person.

“W-what about your friend?” Spencer gestures vaguely to where he assumes she’d be, “Would she mind?”

“She’s the reason I ran out here, so… I think she’d be mad if we didn’t leave her behind.”

You smile at one another, a few feet apart. Spencer’s bumped into by the opening door of your apartment complex and stumbles, apologising profusely to the unimpressed woman that just stares at him.

Through the entire ordeal you watch Spencer, only him, and can’t stop the radiant, love-filled look on your face.

Maybe Mr Darcy isn’t such a dick when he’s the reason Spencer came into your life.

[whyarewecalledtheshipname]

kh3, recoded spoilers:

another part to my data boys as gummiphone assistants crack lol. Basic concept: Data Sora and Data Riku get sent to Riku's phone to accompany him on his ventures through unreality.

in this installment: Riku realizes his kh munny doesn't work in Unreality, so Data Riku pulls some bs in order to help Riku win prize money in a motorcycle race.

warnings: some cussing, ig, crack

___

“That’ll be $25.03.”

Riku blinks. He looks down at his munny. He doesn’t know how to divide a single munny into “point three” munny. He’s never needed to do that back home.

He does the next best thing, and holds out twenty-six munny.

The cashier reflexively reaches out his hand, then pulls away. He stares at Riku’s hand, then glares at Riku’s face.

Riku pulls his munny back just an inch. “...I’m sorry, I only have twenty-six.”

The cashier squints, then glares again. “Is this a joke or something?”

Riku’s phone rings in his pocket, but Riku feels himself growing confused, and doesn’t want to add the data kids to the mess. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong? Is it the total?”

The cashier looks to the side, as if attempting to take a mental break from the situation, before turning back to Riku. “Dude, stop with the prank. You already ordered your food, just—”

“What is it?” someone calls from within the kitchen of the restaurant.

“Hold the food,” the cashier calls back. “This guy’s trying to pay in marbles or something.”

“What the fuck?”

Riku blinks. What did that mean? The word, the marbles, the prank, all of it?

“I’m sorry,” Riku apologizes again, and he knows Data Sora is going to give him a talking to for it. “I’m—Cancel my order, I—”

The cashier sighs, and taps on the monitor of the register. “Alright, man, just—don’t do this kinda stuff; no one watches prank videos anymore.”

Riku nods, despite not understanding a word being said, and ducks out of the restaurant, munny in hand.

He wanders the streets for a good while, until his confusion and embarrassment simmer down. Only then does he finally answer his phone, which hasn’t stopped ringing incessantly.

“Hellooo?!”

Riku braces himself. “What is it, Sora—”

“Riku! What was that? What happened? Why didn’t you answer? And what did I tell you about over-apologizing?”

“I was busy,” Riku quickly answers, if only because otherwise, Data Sora would keep asking questions.

“Busy not eating! And right when you finally decided to! Go back!”

Riku thinks about the munny he’d stuffed back in his pocket, and feels his earlier frustration returning. “And what? They wouldn’t take my munny, and I don’t think it’s because of something I did.”

Data Riku scoffs, and it’s the first sound he’s made this whole time. “That’s why I was calling you. Was there a weird “S” looking symbol on the menu?”

Riku doesn’t have to think twice. It had stood out to him instantly. “Yeah.”

“I thought so. That symbol represents the currency here. Your munny from home is different, and it won’t work here.”

“Then why didn’t you warn him?” Data Sora chides, lightly smacking Data Riku's elbow.

“I didn’t check until just a while ago, okay?”

Data Sora gasps, his mild anger seemingly vanishing. “Riku? Not planning ahead?”

Data Riku rolls his eyes, but Data Sora’s antics instantly improve Riku’s mood.

“So now what?” Riku asks, and now there’s less tension in his voice. “I haven’t run into any monsters here, and who’s to say they’d drop munny anyway?”

Data Sora crosses his arms into his usual thinking pose, humming. Data Riku, on the other hand, raises an eyebrow at Riku. The little smirk is back, and Riku can’t believe he used to do such a thing.

“I think I found something,” is all Data Riku says.

Data Sora’s arms fling out beside him in surprise. “Huh?”

Data Riku answers by strolling over to his beloved keyboard, and calling up a holographic display.

Riku blinks, and Data Sora gasps.

“So,” Data Riku asks cheekily, “do you remember how to ride?”

~<~>~

“How did you know about that?” Riku asks as he follows the gps on his phone. He glances up to read a street sign, then looks down at his phone again.

Data Riku scoffs. “Come on. If there’s one adventure of yours I have data of, it’s your time in The Grid.”

“That makes sense.”

Data Sora is turning from one Riku to the other, eyes wide. “Huh? Adventure? Grid? What’re you guys talking about?”

Data Riku points at the hologram in the middle of the room, and Data Sora is transfixed on it once more.

“What I understand so far is that you have to sign up for these things in advance,” Data Riku explains. “Because it’s an official event, which is the only kind that will even give you a chance at winning prize money.”

“Prize munny?” Data Sora asks. “I thought munny was no good here.”

“Currency,” Data Riku clarifies. “Money, different from ours. Or at least this world’s equivalent of munny.”

Riku turns a corner, and suddenly he hears the echoes of squealing tires. It sends a rush of excitement through Riku’s veins.

An obvious hole in their plan then makes itself known.

“How am I supposed to race? I don’t have a bike.”

Riku’s words cause Data Sora to turn back to the hologram from before, and he practically drools over the flickering image of a motorcycle. “Biiike…”

Data Riku keeps typing without missing a beat. “I was going to focus on the process of registering you for the races in the first place, first. But—” and Riku’s screen suddenly shows a different display “it’s done. Almost. Basically.”

Riku scans the webpage on his screen, slightly distracted by the increasing sounds of revving engines and the smell of burning rubber.

“This is the login screen for current racers,” Data Riku’s voice explains. “This will serve as a pathway between the gummiphone and the servers housing the roster data. I’ll do some tweaking, and if all goes well, you should appear on the roster as if you’ve been entered the whole time.”

Something about this situation feels vaguely familiar to Riku, but’s it’s a barely-there sensation that’s interrupted by the sound of Data Sora snoring in the background. Riku smiles. “What do you need me to do?”

The gummiphone screen switches back to the room in the datascape. “Here? Nothing,” Data Riku answers. “What I do want you to do is find me a vessel.”

Riku stops walking midstep. “What?!”

Again, Data Riku doesn’t even blink at his monitor. “It’s not for me. It’s for you. Or, more accurately, your bike.”

At this, Data Sora wakes up from his standing nap. “Bike? What bike?”

Both Riku’s smile.

“Exactly,” Data Riku says. “I can’t just make a bike out of nowhere, not out there. The code needs to exist within something tangible, preferably something which’s code I can simply rewrite.”

Riku nods, and looks around. “Alright. What exactly could you use as this ‘something’?”

The display on Riku’s phone screen changes, flickering between various images of different types of electronics.

“Any smart device should work. They’re like your gummiphone, devices that can be personalized and connect and interact with you as its user and other compatible devices.”

Riku commits the appearance of said devices to memory, and resumes his search. “Where could I find one?”

“...Go into that restaurant.”

Riku looks at his phone to see what Data Riku is referring to. Across the street is what looks like a fast food place, but Riku doesn’t understand.

“Why? I can’t buy anything there. That’s the whole reason we’re going through all this trouble to win prize money at the races.”

Data Riku is grinning, and it’s unsettling. “Just go in.”

Against his better judgement, Riku listens.

Once inside the restaurant, Data Riku instructs Riku to approach one of the booths labeled “self-checkout”. In the booth is a large tablet fixed in place, where it seems customers can place their order themselves without the need for a cashier.

Riku is about to experimentally tap at the display, when suddenly, the tablet starts to seemingly leak pixels—

—until it disappears in a shower of code.

“Oop—”

“Okay, leave the building,” Data Riku instructs.

Riku blinks. “What—Where did the screen go?”

“Don’t worry about it, just leave.”

Riku gapes at his phone. “Are you—Are you stealing?”

“Mind not announcing it to everyone here?” Data Riku’s arms are crossed. “And don’t forget we’re the same person. If I’m stealing, you’re stealing. Now let’s go.”

“Excuse me?” a voice calls, and Riku spots a woman in a uniform walking toward him. “Sir, do you need any—?”

Of course, this is the moment Data Sora decides to join the fun. “We’re stealing?! Awesome!” His voice rings clear from the phone speakers, and the woman balks.

Riku panics for a second, then bolts out the door. Behind him, he hears a voice shout, “What the fuck?”

He isn’t of a mind to ponder the word meaning this time.

On his phone screen, Data Sora is cackling, throwing his arm over Data Riku’s shoulder, who’s having way too much fun at Riku’s expense.

“I can’t believe you just stole a whole tablet,” Riku grunts as he flees the scene.

“Thanks for the vessel,” Data Riku answers, sounding unusually cheerful. “Hurry and get to the track.”

“I’d get there a lot faster with that bike you promised. It’s the least you can do after stealing from that restaurant. I can’t believe—”

Data Sora is still having the time of his life. “Way to go, Riku!” And Data Riku looks way too proud of himself at the praise.

Riku rolls his eyes after glancing over his shoulder for any pursuers. “Teenagers.”

“Alright, jump!”

“What—”

“Jump!”

Riku sees the pixels up ahead, glittering and reforming into a familiar shape.

He jumps.

And he lands on something solid just as the pixels settle into their new form.

People, cars, and buildings all flash past Riku as he crashes down the street, toward his original destination. Data Sora is absolutely losing it as he watches from the gummiphone (which Riku had docked on the console), and looks like he might pass out when Data Riku emulates the scene within their world, with the two of them cruising on a shared bike.

“Wait,” Riku shouts over the wind, and the engine. “Couldn’t I just sell this thing for money?”

“You’d really sell something that you stole?” Data Riku calls back, grinning when Data Sora wraps his arms around his waist.

Riku would swerve into a post if he could focus on the gummiphone for more than a split second at a time. “I didn’t steal anything; that was all you.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

___

i didn't even get to write him actually racing lol oops. and there's a whole other side to this i'm imagining where sora drags yozora to the very same races riku is about to pop up in, sort of a rapunzel/eugene vibe lmao. yozora really doesn't know why tf his heart tells him to put up with sora's shit but he does it anyway. my poor amnesiac boys.

i also know i didn't really explain my bs logic for how data riku turns a tablet into a motorcycle (i never even mentioned the motorcycle once it appeared either LMAO). i would have, in data riku fashion, but it would've made for a block of text full of made up nonsense lol

[theboredwritertm]

I think a dincobb fic based on this would be cute, please 💜💜💜

Him

Summary: After their run-in at Mos Pelgo, Din finds Cobb getting a little too needy.

Warnings: intoxication, Din being an ass, sexual references, swearing

Pairing: Din Djarin x Cobb Vanth

Word count: 739  (short and sweet)

A/N: Cobb Vanth is a cowboy who radiates bottom energy and nobody can convince me otherwise. 

****

He had been ignoring the blinking red light for a while now.

He knew who it was. He knew exactly what it was about. He didn’t want to deal with it – didn’t want to deal with him.

It had been over a month since he’d left Tatooine, and they hadn’t spoken since, at least not person-to-person. Cobb had been leaving a lot of messages - a lot of drunk messages – and Din hadn’t bothered responding to any of them.

As far as he was concerned, what had happened between them had been a once-off. 

It wasn’t until the Child had become transfixed with the glowing button, staring at it every time he was seated on Din’s lap in the pilot seat, that Din knew he had to do something about it. 

He waited until he’d put the kid to bed, climbed back up into the cockpit, made himself comfortable in his chair, and finally pressed play on the transceiver. His body’s reaction to the low, gravelly and clearly-intoxicated voice that came through was instantaneous, memories of the night after the krayt dragon flooding back to him with startling clarity. 

“It’s been a while,” the voice began, drawling and lazy just like Din remembered it. “Just thought I’d check in, see how you guys have been.”

The line went dead. The second message began to play. Din had to check to be sure, but he was certain it had to be from the same night – maybe just a few more glasses of spotchka in. 

“I get it. It was a one-time thing, right? Big Mandalorians like you can’t get attached.” 

God, he was so fucking drunk. Din leaned back in his seat, hands resting behind his head, mentally preparing himself for the rest of the Marshal’s pathetic diatribe. 

“I won’t hold my breath waiting to hear back.”

Click.

Next message.

“I crave your affection. Maker above, I can’t stop thinking about you. How you felt inside of me, in my mouth, in—”

Din let out a long sigh as he hit the transceiver button again to shut it off. Pathetic. Right? Then why the hell was he so hard? He sat in silence for a long while, willing his blood back to places he actually needed it, staring out into the dark abyss passing by outside as the Crest slipped through an Outer Rim star system. He’d never admit it to a single soul, but there were times when it got a little lonely out here. Not a sign of life, aside for him and the Child, for miles around. With another sigh, he reached for the transceiver again, this time punching in some numbers. 

It didn’t take long to get an answer.

“Hey, stranger.”

Laid back. Casual. The greeting sounded noticeably restrained.

“Wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“You crave my affection, huh?”

Silence on the other end. Then, all casual pretense out the window. 

“I crave your affection, but I crave your silence even more – shut up.”

“Guess you’re sober, now.”

“Actually—” Din hears the clink of glassware somewhere in the background of the call, the pouring of liquid. “Not quite. Why don’t you come join me?”

Silence.

“Hey, you still there, partner?”

“Just giving you the silence you crave.”

“You know, I take back what I said. You’re an asshole…”

More silence, then:

“So, what do you say? I got a bottle of spotchka with your name on it.”

“That all?”

He hears the smile in Cobb’s voice now. “Not if you don’t want it to be.” 

Din smiles to himself, but refuses to give himself away (even if the blood rushing back to a particular body part already has).

“Fine.”

“So, when should I expect you?”

Din considers his current position on the monitor. He’s not in the middle of anything too important. Just the usual: flying under the radar, evading dangerous enemies, trying to make a living. He could get away with it.

“Might be a while.”

“I can wait.”

The silence this time is heavier, both knowing what they’ve just agreed to – both quietly pleased over the prospect. 

“So, how’ve you and the kid been, anyway?”

Din’s finger hovers over the button to end the transmission. He pauses, thinks it over, then moves it away. For once, he decides to talk.  

He’d never admit it to a single soul, but there were times when it got a little lonely out here.

[who-ya-gonna-call-winchesters]

A Learning Experience - jack kline x reader

Sam and Dean Winchester leave their little sister behind on a hunt to be a glorified babysitter for a certain nephilim. Y/n introduces Jack to a bunch of new things like pancakes, grocery stores and chick flicks. A few harmless questions arise. Fluff.

Word Count: 2,154 

masterlist

If anyone had told you a couple months ago that you would be babysitting Lucifer’s son while your brothers went out hunting without you, you would have laughed in their faces. But that was then and now you were cooking breakfast for two in the bunker’s kitchen balancing your phone against your head with your shoulder. 

“Real nice move, assholes. A note. What a nice way to tell your sister you’re abandoning her”, you hissed.

“We’re not abandoning you, Y/n, it’s just a couple weeks. Jack isn’t ready to come with us and he shouldn’t be left alone”, Dean replied, “According to Sam.”

“Are you keeping the knives away from him?”, Sam asked in the background. 

“I did not realize that was something I had to do but I think I’ll lock them up now”, you said.

“He’s not gonna hurt you, I’m worried about him hurting himself.”

“Great, so you abandoned me with a suicidal nephilim in a bunker that no one knows about.”

“It wasn’t my idea”, Dean grumbled.

“Shut up, De, I know you don’t like him but he’s just a kid”, you rolled your eyes. 

Your oldest brother laughed, “You two are like the same age if you don’t wanna get technical-”

“Which”, Sam interjected, “is why I think it’s a good idea you stay with him at home. You can teach him stuff and make sure he takes care of himself.”

“I’m literally a babysitter. You guys owe me big time when you get back”, you said. 

“Something I’m sure you won’t let us ever forget.”

“Goodbye, Dean”, you hung up the phone and plated the last of the pancakes. 

After setting the table you cleared your throat and called out for Jack in your best mother hen voice. It echoed around the empty bunker for a few moments before you heard footsteps approaching and a head of blonde hair poked in from around the door frame. 

“Yes, Y/n?”, Jack asked. 

“Sit your ass down and eat, breakfast is ready”, you gestured towards the pancakes on the table.

“What are these?”, he asked, staring at the pancakes after he sat down. 

You stared at him, “Are you kidding? They’re pancakes, you’ve never had pancakes before?”

He shook his head. 

“Well, these are the best breakfast food in the whole world. I don’t really know how to explain them better than that”, you said, putting a couple on his plate and passing him the bottle of syrup, “I think, you’ll like them. You can put syrup on them if you want…”, You watched in abject horror as he drowned his pancakes in the substance before digging in. 

Jack grinned through a mouthful of food, “These are good. I like pancakes.”

You laughed, “I’ll make them for you every morning as long as you don’t tell Sam about the amount of sugar you just ingested.”

Jack nodded, “Deal.”

After a couple days of making three square meals a day for a nephilim that seemingly never got full, especially of your pancakes, you had to make a trip to the grocery store. Syrup was at the top of your shopping list but you were running low on other actual essentials and you didn’t know if a nephilim could actually eat unhealthily but Jack was half human after all and Sam might appreciate you putting a salad into the boy. 

You knocked on the door to his room, in between yours and Sam’s incase anything were to happen, and stuck your head in. He was reading, something you encouraged considering how many pop culture references your brother used, besides Harry Potter was a classic and you were showing him the movies as he gradually finished each book. Which was surprisingly quick before you realized that Jack didn’t sleep nearly as long as you did. 

“Hey, Jack, you wanna get out of here for a little while?”

He looked up at you in confusion, “Sam and Dean said it would be best for me to stay here.”

“Well, I don’t see those dummies anywhere now, besides we need more food. It’s just a quick run to the store. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to though”, you said. 

He shook his head and stood up, “No, I’ll come with you.”

“Cool.”

It really was supposed to be a quick trip to the store until you learned just how much food Jack had never had before. 

“Do you normally get this much food?”, Jack asked, looking over the nearly full shopping cart. 

“Living with Sam and Dean? Yes. But we’re getting a lot of stuff I don’t usually buy. It’s high time you lost your mac and cheese virginity”, you said as you examined the tomatoes.

“What is that?”, he asked tilting his head in a very Castiel esque manner, which you found absolutely adorable. 

What? Mac and cheese? It’s kinda in the name, just macaroni and cheese-”

“No, virginity.”

You think you probably rivaled the tomatoes in how red your face was, “It’s uh…like when you’ve never done something before. But it’s just a metaphor, normally virginity pertains to um”, you paused. You really did not want to give Jack the sex talk in the middle of the produce section. 

“Intercourse?”

You breathed a sigh of relief, thank god. Wait… 

“How do you know what that is?”

“I saw something on Dean’s laptop-”

“Dean showed you porn?”, you hissed. 

“Not exactly, it was just there”, Jack said nonchalantly. 

You shook your head and put the tomatoes in the cart before dragging Jack off towards the registers. That was enough for today’s outing. 

After about a week, you two had finished all eight Harry Potter movies and had moved onto the rest of Dean’s vast collection of movies. Over the course of your time alone with Jack you had learned he was a huge cuddler. The first time you had sat down on the other side of the couch, he pulled you closer by the second act. Not that you minded, Jack was warm and it kept the chill off, the bunker was drafty. It was only for that reason. Not because you were developing a huge crush on Satan’s son. 

Tonight you were watching some romantic chick flicky movie you didn’t even know Dean owned. Well, Jack was watching it. You were nose deep in your book with one hand curled in Jack’s hair as he rested his head on your lap. 

“They’re supposed to be in love, right?”, Jack asked. 

“Yeah, that’s kinda the whole point of the movie”, you said, not looking up from your book. 

“Then why is he hurting her?”

That got your attention, you looked up at the screen. The guy in the movie was pushing his female love interest up against the wall and gazing into her eyes with an intense smolder that made you shiver a little. 

“He’s not. It’s kinda meant to be romantic. It’s building sexual tension”, you replied as the pair on screen started making out. “See? Now they realize they’ve been in love the whole time.”

Jack turned to look up at you, “How do you know when you’re in love though?”

“I don’t know, you feel all tingly and happy when you’re around someone you love. You really like spending time with them, I guess. These are some loaded questions. Haven’t you been watching the movie?”

Jack flushed, “I wasn’t really paying attention to some of it.”

You shrugged, “You didn’t miss much, most chick flicks are all the same anyway.”

The end credits rolled down the screen a few minutes later and you closed your book. Jack looked like he had zoned out again as you continued to play with his hair. He was probably tired. Even nephilim had to burn out at some point. 

“I think I’m gonna head to bed. You look like you should too”, you suggested, pushing a few stray stands of blonde away from his forehead. 

“Maybe. I’ll only wake up in a couple hours anyway. Can I stay up longer? I want to watch another movie”, he said, sitting up to let you up.

“Go ahead. I’m not your mom, you can stay up late if you want. Just don’t start Star Wars without me.”

Being a Winchester meant very few nights of peaceful sleep, luckily tonight was just the usual nightmares of being torn apart by various monsters. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before. So when you woke up in a cold sweat, you shook off the fear and decided to grab a drink before going back to sleep. The clock read 3:00 AM in big red letters, so you had only been out for a few hours. 

Jack’s bedroom door was shut when you walked past, so you assumed he had turned in sometime after you. You crept down to the kitchen as quietly as possible to avoid waking him. You grabbed a drink of water and checked your phone for any notifications, nothing from the boys yet but they weren’t supposed to be home until next week due to complications according to their last call. From somewhere down the hall you heard a floorboard creek. If Jack had woken up you would have heard his door, the hinges in the bunker weren’t exactly well oiled. The hairs stood up on the back of your neck and you set your glass down silently. 

The hall was dimly lit but there was no sign of anything that could have made the noise. You sighed. You were just on edge from that nightmare, the bunker was decades old if ever there was the time to use the “house settling” excuse it was with this ancient building. You turned the corner back down your hallway and was suddenly slammed up against the wall. You let out a gasp that would have turned into a very loud scream if your eyes hadn’t met a pair of blue ones. 

“Jack”, you breathed, “You scared the shit out of me.” 

Jack stared you down silently. His grip on your wrists was tight and it made you wonder if he knew just how tight. His gaze was intense almost like…

“You can ease up a little bit there, tiger”, you whispered and his eyes softened along with his grip. 

“I’m sorry. Did I actually hurt you?”, he asked nervously. 

You shook your head, “I think I’ll live. What are you doing?”

His cheeks turned red, “In the movie, you said this was romantic.”

Oh. Now it was your turn for your cheeks to heat up. 

“Jack...”

“I feel tingly and happy when I’m around you, Y/n”, he said sincerely, “You said that means I’m in love.”

“You’ve never been in love before, Jack. Love is more than just tingly feelings. It’s something that you have to figure out and learn on your own”, you explained. 

“You don’t love me?”

That damn near broke your heart. You shook free one of your hands and caressed his cheek softly. “Jack, I like you way too much than I should already and could well be on the road to loving you. But I don’t want you to think you’re in love with me just because I’m one of the only people you’re around-”

He shook his head, “I’ve seen other people though. No one has ever made me feel like you do. I thought there was something wrong with me but it doesn’t feel bad. It feels good, like pancakes or grocery shopping or you playing with my hair.” 

Forget being on the road, you had reached your destination. You were definitely in love with Lucifer’s son. His eyes bore into yours and you couldn’t take it anymore. You surged forward and pressed your lips to his. His hands landed on your hips as you threaded your fingers into his hair. The kiss was hot and messy, that was the only indication that this was Jack’s first time doing something like this. Of course he would also be a perfect kisser. You pulled away after a few more moments, breathing harshly. 

Jack beamed at you, “Can we do that again?”

You laughed, “Yes, Jack. But maybe after a couple hours of sleep.” You swore he was pouting.

“Can I stay with you tonight?”, he asked, “I heard you earlier, you had another nightmare.”

“Did I wake you?”

He shook his head, “No, I haven’t gone to bed yet.”

That’s why you had heard creaking, it really was Jack moving around. 

If anyone had told Sam and Dean Winchester a couple months ago that they would come home to find their little sister cuddled up to Lucifer’s son in bed, they would have laughed in their faces. But that was then and now Dean was looking absolutely mortified and about to blow as Sam dragged him out of the doorway so as to not wake them up.

[ahgaseda]

enough | four

even if everyone else leaves me, you’re enough for me, you’re my only one, stand by me forever, only you, just you...

summary : to survive as a single woman in the big city, you resort to letting rich men pay for your company, but never anticipated that your first client would be the boy you once loved, Jinyoung.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, references to prostitution, mentions of gang activity, graphic sexual content, potentially triggering elements involving mental health, panic attacks, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

Fingertips delicately brushing over your arm pulled you from peaceful dreams. Dreams of Jinyoung and how he used to smile. How you would squeeze his cheeks between your palms when he tried to hide behind his hand, afraid to show his teeth. It had taken you years to break him of that habit.

Humming with contentment, your eyes blinked sluggishly. You could feel the morning light filtering through and warming your skin with golden hues.

The body radiating heat behind you snared your attention in a heartbeat. You smiled when you felt him breathing heavily at your back. He had been sound asleep as well, but just couldn’t resist a touch of your soft skin as he started to wake.

His fingers continued tracing senseless patterns up and down your arm. You shivered at the pads of his fingers, shuffling backwards and even deeper into his embrace while he spooned you in his oversized bed. You glanced up, noting the sun was rising higher outside the window; a sign the two of you had slept quite late.

Jinyoung called your name sweetly and with a smile, you turned to face him. Closing your eyes, you burrowed yourself against his firm chest, tucking your head beneath his chin and draping your legs over his thighs.

“Good morning to you, too,” he teased, an arm coming to wrap tightly around your waist in gentle possession. Jinyoung would normally hide his smirk, but given your position against him, you wouldn’t see it and so he smirked freely.

You didn’t leave me, was the first thing that came to mind, but instead you hummed sleepily. Then, you giggled as his fingertips slipped beneath your shirt and began to dance up your spine.

After squinting against the sun to read the clock on the nightstand, Jinyoung sighed heavily and whispered, “Baby, I have to go.”

You shook your head adamantly, setting your hands to his shirt and gripping him as tightly as you could.

Jinyoung flushed at your newfound affection though in his many, many memories with you, you were always clingy in bed. He chuckled when you began to circle your arms and legs around him, like you could physically prevent him from leaving.

“I have business,” he told you, grabbing one of your hands and bringing your knuckles to his lips for a few appeasing kisses.

“Don’t leave,” you whined in a sleepy daze. “I finally have you back.”

Jinyoung melted, leaning in and kissing your brow. He cradled your head in the bend of his elbow and his hand trailed down your hip, guiding your thigh to hook higher on his waist. Pulling you closer into his warmth, Jinyoung met your opening eyes for only a second before capturing your lips in a heart-stopping kiss that made you smile against his mouth.

But the moment you drifted back to sleep, he was gone.

Jinyoung wanted to be angry with you, to punish you for leaving him behind. God knows his heart was still somewhere in a million tiny pieces on that driveway you left him on, but the caveat was Jinyoung didn’t actually want to hurt you.

Yes, he wanted you to suffer, but only in moderation.

When you finally came to, you wanted to be furious at being abandoned, but you were too overcome with a sense of victory after the events of the night before. Not only had Jinyoung pleasured you, but he allowed you to fall asleep in his arms and for the first time in nearly four years, you slept like a baby.

You had forgotten how it felt to wake up beside him, feeling the pads of his fingers caressing your bare skin. He was insatiable when it came to your body against his. Jinyoung always had to have his hands on you. You were his and he was yours.

Well rested but anticipating a long day, you crawled out of bed and raked your hands through your disheveled hair. Approaching the floor to ceiling windows, you gazed out at Seoul and its bustling, morning energy. You preferred the view at night, when the endless landscape of colors reflected into the darkness of the bedroom.

Turning around, you finally noticed your clothes folded neatly on the dresser. The same dresser Jinyoung had pinned you to the night before. Proceeding to gather your things, you smiled when you saw the note placed on top.

Sorry not sorry for ripping your shirt. I will buy you another, said the note in Jinyoung’s scribbled handwriting. You let out a giggle, rolling your eyes in amusement before tucking the paper into your bra for safe-keeping.

When you stepped into the living area, having dressed and tamed your hair, you greeted Jackson and Yugyeom, both of whom were absorbed in their phones while a cooking show played on the enormous flat screen in the background.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Yugyeom replied with a broad grin that scrunched his nose. “You scared us last night.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized sweetly.

Wiggling his eyebrows playfully, Jackson asked, “Did you sleep well?”

You nodded and skipped to the adjoining kitchen, saying, “Yes, I was rewarded with a very nice orgasm.”

Yugyeom dropped his phone and clapped his hands loudly. “That explains why boss was in such a good mood,” he quipped, earning a sharp elbow from Jackson.

You snorted.

Pouring yourself a glass of orange juice and taking a sip, you asked with a pout, “Why did he have to leave so early?”

“It wasn’t early. It was almost ten,” said Jackson, pretending to chide.

You shrugged, bringing the glass to your lips and peering over the rim. The penthouse still floored you with its scale and size. Jinyoung couldn’t cook. He would never need this amount of space for a kitchen. It was sheer indulgence, plain and simple.

Jinyoung never cared about money, never sought after it. He said money made people crazy. Power, on the other hand, was his weakness. Setting down your glass, you mulled over what kind of business pulled Jinyoung out of bed with you.

Before you could ask any potentially dangerous questions, Yugyeom’s phone chimed and after reading, he said, “We’re under strict orders to take you back to your house. Boss ordered you brunch and it will be delivered there.”

“He said you have classes later,” Jackson added, rising and pulling on his jacket.

You grimaced. Thinking about studying paled in comparison to having Jinyoung on your mind. Nevertheless, classes weren’t going to pass themselves. “Actually I have study sessions for exams today. They’re next week.”

Yugyeom grabbed his keys and gave them a jingle. “Well, let’s hit the road then.”

The atmosphere was different from the day before. Any tension and anger you had been harboring was long gone. In fact, you smiled the entire way to your new home, especially with the way Jackson and Yugyeom bickered like an old married couple.

When Yugyeom pulled into your driveway, a delivery car was already waiting, handing Jackson a pair of rather large bags. The bodyguard tipped the boy handsomely and you eagerly rushed inside to scan the goods.

“Why is this kid spoiling me, but won’t let me spoil him?” you asked in a whine, pulling the food from the brown paper bags.

Yugyeom replied dryly, “Because he’s a manly man with a whole lot of pride.”

You retorted, “I just want to suck the soul out of him.”

Jackson grabbed a fork and deadpanned, “We never said he was smart.”

You laughed.

The three of you ate together like you had been best friends for years. Jackson and Yugyeom could hit the road as a comedic team with the way they bounced off of each other and made you cackle until your stomach hurt.

When you had finished your meal, you proceeded to clean up and bid the boys farewell. Yugyeom held you snugly when you hugged him and earned a slap on the back from Jackson.

“This is awkward,” Jackson chuckled. “We aren’t actually leaving.”

“Oh?” you questioned, brows raised.

“I drive. He...,” Yugyeom hesitated.

“Watch. I keep watch,” Jackson interjected, flashing a comforting grin.

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “The two of you aren’t going into the study sessions with me, are you?”

Jackson waved his hands. “Of course not. Yugyeom will drive us and I will just hang out around campus. As far as you’re concerned, I’m a prospective student that loves to gab around the quad.”

“Okay,” you said, skeptical.

After a long, hot shower, you dressed comfortably and readied your backpack with notebooks and textbooks and any other books needed for your study sessions until your bag weighed a thousand pounds.

When your phone rang, you smiled at the screen and answered, “Hello?”

“It’s me,” Jinyoung greeted, as if he had forgotten he was saved in your contacts now. “I just wanted to check in.”

You bit your lip to keep from grinning, pleased at how much he had softened in the past twenty-four hours, and murmured bashfully, “I’m glad you did.”

Jinyoung took note of your tone and smiled, not that you could see it. “Am I interrupting classes?”

“No, I’m about to leave,” you replied, hoisting the backpack onto your shoulder. “Apparently Jackson and Yugyeom are babysitting me.”

“You can send them away anytime you want. I just thought having the two of them around would make things easier for you.”

There was always a certain note in Jinyoung’s tone when he lied. His voice sounded like a news anchor telling you reassuringly that everything would be fine whilst the world was literally on fire. You weren’t an idiot. Most of the girls already warned you that on occasion their wealthy clients kept tabs on them. Security protocols and whatnot.

At your brief silence, Jinyoung decided to change the subject. “Which exam will you be prepping for?”

“Statistics. It’s actually a lot of fun when it’s applied to situations rather than dull numbers on a sheet like in regular math.”

Jinyoung wrinkled his nose. In no way, shape or form was any variation of math fun. But he enjoyed your enthusiasm. “Uh-huh. And which class is kicking your ass?”

“That would be physics,” you droned with loathing. “I’m afraid its fundamentals are completely lost on me.”

Noting the clock, you headed out the door in search of your babysitters.

“What does physics have to do with becoming a doctor?”

“Oh, a question I have asked myself many, many times since I discovered I would have to take not one, but two semesters of it,” you joked, following Jackson to the car. “I think it’s primary function is to weed out the weak ones.”

“In that case, kick its ass right back,” said Jinyoung, eyes flickering when the door at the opposite end of the warehouse opened.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you glanced at Yugyeom as he backed the car out of the drive and lowered your tone, “Will I see you again tonight?”

Jinyoung exhaled loudly and your heart sank. “Afraid not. I have a lot of work to do.”

You sulked, wanting to press the issue, but knowing full well Jinyoung was a stone wall. “Oh,” was all you said.

Hearing the disappointment, Jinyoung shifted his weight, looking down at his shoes. You made him like a crazy, hormonal teenager all over again. He just wanted to spend every waking moment with you, listening to you talk excitedly about things he didn’t give a shit about if only to hear the joy in your voice. He missed the simple days of having time alone on the couch with you and a boring ass movie, which was a perfect excuse to pull you beneath him and mar your beautiful skin with hickies.

Jinyoung cleared his throat, snapping out of the thought.

Gripping the phone a little tighter, you started, “Jinyoung, I…”

There was a sudden influx of noise in the background and Jinyoung grumbled under his breath, “I have to go. Study hard, baby.”

You opened your mouth to continue, but the line went dead.

Flustered, you glared at the phone. I love you, was what you had wanted to say, but you choked. What if he didn’t say it back just to torture you?

His words from your first night as your client rolled back into your mind, Imagine that - having to pay for the love of my life... Once upon a time, that’s what you had been. It didn’t mean he still felt the same way. In fact, his level of bitterness could only be from losing one’s love.

Jinyoung was tempered now. He was grown. And you leaving him had partially shaped him into the man he had become. And that could be a man no longer capable of trusting and loving you as he once had.

That notion made you want to cry and you quickly shook your head, freeing your mind of its obsession with Jinyoung. As Yugyeom drove, you pulled out the physics textbook and proceeded to read, drowning yourself in mundane words that only seemed to repeat.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Jinyoung slid the phone into his back pocket and moved back to Jaebeom’s side, scowling at the abrupt arrival of his unpredictable ally.

Jiwon was ambitious. In fact, he was specifically after Jinyoung’s spot, a fact Jinyoung was well aware of and why he chose to keep Jiwon in the loop of some of his business dealings. The problem was Jiwon embodied everything Jinyoung despised in a business partner.

He was loud, flashy. Had no respect for law enforcement and how easily they could unravel the threads that held everything together. He dabbled in contraband that Jinyoung would never dare involve himself with and tended to fly by the seat of his pants rather than plan anything out.

Jiwon took the last drag out of a cigarette before tossing it to the floor. “Jinyoung-ie, how goes it, brother?”

“You’re late,” Jinyoung sneered. “As usual.”

“Deepest apologies,” Jiwon mocked, putting a hand over his heart. “I was distracted by some Daegu pussy, but I’m here now.”

“Fantastic,” Jinyoung groaned.

Jiwon raked a tongue over his teeth and said, “Speaking of hot pieces of ass, I saw that little slice of yours.”

Jinyoung’s eyes hardened and his voice came out a slow growl, “Excuse me?”

“You know the one I’m talking about,” Jiwon continued, grinning. “Walks around smiling like a little princess, but I bet she loves it rough. Doesn’t she, Jinyoung-ie?”

Jinyoung could feel his blood boiling. Suddenly, everything in the room was painted in red hues. How he had always despised Jiwon, but now, he was talking himself into the nearest harbor.

Jaebeom shuffled slightly, feeling the tension. His eyes were hot enough to burn coal.

Jinyoung stepped closer, lowering his voice in a warning. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Ever heard that phrase, Jiwon?”

Jiwon nodded. “Of course.”

“Don’t ever be deluded into thinking I keep you around because I cherish your company,” Jinyoung hissed.

Jiwon clapped his hands. “Shit, she is the bitch you’ve been holding out for. I’m impressed.”

Jinyoung set his jaw. He couldn’t lose his composure, couldn’t let this asshole know what you meant to him. Instead, he warned calmly, “You’re walking on thin ice with me.”

“Do I sense some panic in your voice, Jinny? After all, if I saw her, others may have, too.”

Jinyoung switched tactics. “What do you want?”

Jiwon held up his arms and shrugged, noncommittal. “I know I notoriously play both sides, but there’s a deal going down and I want you on my side.”

Jinyoung's expression hardened. “I don’t take sides in that bullshit you play. I notoriously stay in my niche. You know I don’t get involved in the corruption game.”

“Well, today you do. My team is going to hijack a shipment and you’re going to help me.”

“And if I don’t?” Jinyoung asked with a tilt of his head.

Jiwon sucked in a breath between his teeth, to make it sound like he was almost wincing. He blithely took out his phone, turning the screen to give Jinyoung a view. The picture was of you, smiling at a classmate with books held in your arms.

“I know plenty of bad, bad men that could break in such a good girl for you.”

The words had barely made their way from his mouth before Jinyoung was on him, grabbing Jiwon by the collar and shaking him like a ragdoll. When his guard made a move with a measly switchblade, Jaebeom calmly put a hand on the gun attached to his belt.

“I will kill you,” Jinyoung hissed in his face. “Do you hear me?”

Jiwon sneered, “You of all people should have known better than to give in to your weakness.”

Jinyoung was ready to rip him inside out and that was evident as he spoke, “Weakness is the last thing you will think of when you think of me.”

But Jiwon merely laughed, a sound devoid of pity or fear. “I own you now.”

Jinyoung released him roughly and held his ground, watching Jiwon slink away with a broad, impish grin.

Jaebeom moved closer and murmured in hushed tones, “He won’t do anything.”

“Have her brought to my place,” Jinyoung whispered, hands trembling. “Now!”

It was late afternoon when you finished your study sessions, feeling confident in your ability to ace the oncoming exam. With statistics prep out of the way, you devoted yourself to the neverending battle between you and physics.

Jinyoung had already said he wouldn’t be able to see you tonight. With that thought, you donned an overgrown sweater and some knee-high socks to keep your feet warm. Then, you plopped on your bed and cracked open the books.

Time passed swiftly and you were shocked to see the sun had faded from view just outside your window. Taking a quick and hard earned reprieve, you massaged your aching hand, tense from the overabundance of notes you were scribbling, and you jolted on the bed when Yugyeom burst unannounced into your room.

“What the hell,” you exclaimed, tugging down your sweater to hide your exposed thighs.

Yugyeom panted, “Boss wants me to bring you to the penthouse.”

You relaxed, but rolled your eyes over the needless interruption. “He said no booty calls tonight.”

“He wants to see you. Something has upset him, but they won’t tell me more than that.”

That tidbit of information intrigued you. “Okay, but I’m bringing my books to study while I wait.”

“Fine by me.”

Jackson’s behavior was your first red flag. Rather than his jovial, talkative self, his eyes were on the surroundings, watching and waiting like something could be lurking just beyond. In fact, he didn’t say a word as he opened the car door and slammed it shut behind you.

Jaebeom’s behavior was your second red flag. He was there at the building to greet you, opening your door and grasping your elbow to practically hoist you out of the car. Managing to sling your backpack over your shoulder, you asked, “Has it finally happened? The zombie apocalypse?”

Your joke fell on deaf ears.

Jaebeom looked to Jackson and said, “Basement.”

Jackson nodded his understanding, then turned to you and said, “Go with Jaebeom.”

You merely bobbed your head before Jaebeom ushered you to the back elevator. You crossed paths with the friendly Mr. Jung, who discreetly accepted a roll of bills from Jaebeom’s outstretched hand.

Heat flared across your cheeks. Jinyoung was going to get a piece of your mind when you saw him. All this sneaking about and acting like at any moment a sniper was going to drop you. Then, your heart fell somewhere in the pit of your stomach. Years away had let you forget the constant feeling of living in danger.

The gangs had turned your home into a warzone. Suddenly, you were right back where you started and the thought made your eyes water.

“Where is Jinyoung?” you asked in the elevator.

“On his way,” Jaebeom answered shortly.

You almost hadn’t expected an answer. Jinyoung clearly was putting you on lockdown. You peered up at Yugyeom and he offered a gentle smile, as clueless as you were. At least, you weren’t alone.

Jackson vanished into the darkness of the basement, the echo of his footsteps ricocheting off of the concrete walls. Spotting the only other person inside, he called out, “Jaebeom is on guard. Now, what the hell happened?”

Jinyoung stepped out of the shadows and said, “That bastard has a picture of her on his phone. He showed it to me.”

Jackson appeared unfazed. “Alright, we will increase security and I can…”

Jinyoung whirled around and grabbed the nearest crate, shoving it into a heap rolling across the ground. Then, he roared, “How could I be so stupid?”

Jackson shook his head. “You’re not.”

“I kept my distance for almost five goddamn years,” Jinyoung shouted, angry and scared. “I was good. I knew it was safer that way while I did what I had to do. But she broke me. The minute I found out she was gonna sell herself, I had to jump in.”

“I know,” said Jackson, unmoving.

Jinyoung’s next words came out shakily, “I have a whole list of enemies that will tear her apart in front of me.”

Jackson reminded firmly, “We’re better than them.”

“Are we? Because I’m losing my fucking mind at just the thought of someone laying a hand on her!”

“No one will.”

Jinyoung was the epitome of composure. He never lost his temper and he never allowed himself to be a slave to his emotions, which was why an outburst such as this was exceedingly rare. Jinyoung didn’t know what to do when his heart took hold, but Jackson did.

“I made a lot of enemies. I tore people apart to get here. You know that, brother,” Jinyoung choked, tears in his eyes. “None of them would bat an eye at taking her away.”

Jackson knew that was enough. He stepped forward and grasped Jinyoung by the shoulders, levelling his voice, “Stop and listen to me for a second. Why do you have me and Jaebeom? Why does Mark spend almost every waking hour behind a computer?”

Jinyoung stilled.

“The answer is for bullshit like this. Do you have any idea how many threats we have neutralized before they got to you?”

Jinyoung snorted. “Would you like a raise?”

Jackson chortled and waved him away. “You pay me more than enough.”

Jinyoung put his hands on his hips and lowered his gaze to the ground in shame, shaking his head from side to side. “I should send her away. I should leave her.”

“It’s too late for that. They know she’s your baby.”

“Yeah, she is.” Jinyoung slumped in defeat.

Jackson simpered. “It happens to all of us, brother.”

Jinyoung relented. No one could talk him down like Jackson.

Jackson looked at him expectantly, seeing Jinyoung had calmed. Then, he cocked his head toward the elevators.

As the two headed up to the penthouse, Jinyoung asked, “How was she today?”

Jackson didn’t hesitate to sing your praises. “Exam prep is putting her through the ringer, but I’ve never seen someone so determined to kick school’s ass.”

Jinyoung snickered. That sounded like you. When you got knocked down, you laughed and got back up. When you set your mind to something, no one could stop you. Jinyoung frowned, wondering at what moment you had decided to leave him all those years ago.

“And she constantly checks her phone, waiting for you to text her,” Jackson added, leaning back against the rail. “When you checked on her this morning, you should have seen her smile.”

“Stop making it worse,” Jinyoung grumbled, shooting him an insincere glare.

Jackson beamed. “You’re welcome.”

Nestled comfortably on your side in Jinyoung’s bed, you poured over your textbooks, filling your pages with notes. Flashcards lay in a messy crescent around you. All a result of you trying to distract yourself from Jinyoung.

Inevitably, you crashed, falling asleep in the warmth and comfort of his bed. Your brain was exhausted from absorbing so much information, and the city lights and soft music had lulled you to sleep. If his playlist was any indication, Jinyoung preferred melancholy, slow songs to soothe his aching heart.

You would fix that later, but for now, you rested.

Jinyoung breezed through the kitchen, tugging off his jacket and draping it over the couch in the living area. Glancing around, he turned back to the bodyguard and asked, “Where is she?”

“Bedroom,” was all Jackson said.

“You can go now,” Jinyoung sang, dismissing him with a wave of his fingers.

Jackson chuckled and headed for the elevator.

Jinyoung entered his room ever so quietly, letting out a long exhale of relief when he saw you sound asleep within a ring of textbooks and study materials. First, he unfastened his button-up and discarded it on the bedpost. Then, one by one, he pulled your books from around you and stacked them neatly on the dresser.

Settling in behind you, Jinyoung contoured his body to yours, propping his head on his arm while his free hand landed on your hip and began to curl around your waist. He just needed you safely in his arms. If anyone so much as gave you a sideways glance, there would be hell to pay.

Jinyoung remembered why he had joined the gang in the first place - to protect you. He learned that when you can’t beat them, join them. But he had never expected that would be the tipping point. He joined the gang and you left him. Ever since that day, Jinyoung had warred with himself over his decision. Maybe you had seen it as betrayal. Even when he explained that he had done it for the both of you, you didn’t accept that and you sure as hell didn’t forgive him.

And then, you were gone.

Jinyoung realized he had been the only one keeping you tied there. You had given up on everything and everyone else, and then he cut the final cord. Sometimes he told himself it was the right thing to do. You were able to leave and find a new life, the life you had always wanted.

But Jinyoung always wanted to be a part of that life. Not many kids could say they had found their soulmate and Jinyoung, as much as he hated the notion, knew you were the person he was meant to spend his life with. There was never any doubt in his mind.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered under his breath, knowing you weren’t listening. I gave you no choice, he pondered sadly. Tightening his grasp around your body, he tucked his face to your hair and lingered in the scent of you. He just needed to hold you until he found his strength again.

You hummed quietly in your sleep; a tiny inconsequential noise that completely set his veins ablaze. Your body instinctively shuffled back, seeking his warmth and the constant of him beside you. Jinyoung raked his eyes down your form, intent on your bare thighs. For fuck’s sake, had you come to his penthouse in a sweater and knee-high socks and nothing else?

Jinyoung brushed his fingers through your hair, exposing your neck, and left a few gentle kisses at the curve of your shoulder. “Bad girl,” he whispered darkly in your ear.

Your lashes fluttered before your eyes opened, and you immediately shuddered at the feel of his wet lips on your neck. “Jinyoung…,” you sighed.

“Hi, baby,” he replied, mischievous. “How many people saw these pretty thighs today?”

You could hear the jealousy in his tone and it made you smirk. “They rushed me here urgently.”

“I will let it slide…,” he said, nipping at your ear. “This time.”

You reached back to grab a handful of his thick hair, tugging him forward so you could mold your lips to his in a kiss. You had missed him deeply. Jinyoung let you, though his hand began to wander. You felt yourself melting into his kisses, slow and warm, that when his fingers slipped beneath your sweater, you didn’t notice until a digit hooked in the band of your underwear.

Pulling at his hair, you took his lip between your teeth and yanked gently. Then, meeting his eyes, you whispered, “Those are a present for you.”

“For me?” he asked, clearly piqued.

“Mm-hm.”

Jinyoung gave you a chaste peck on the corner of your mouth in farewell, then he moved down your body to get a better look. You watched him push the hem of your sweater up to your ribs, exposing the cute pink panties you were wearing. After biting his lip with appreciation toward the view, he began kissing his way up your thigh.

“Rough day?” you asked anxiously.

“The worst,” he huffed, proceeding to suck a blemish on your hip.

You choked out a word that sounded vaguely like his name, squeezing your thighs together to calm the aching in your core at how close he was to your most intimate part. Jinyoung, with his kisses alone, could have you completely pliant beneath him, begging him to give you release.

Jinyoung called your name.

“Hm?”

His lips broke from your skin and he lifted his head to look you dead in the eyes. “I’m gonna eat this pussy.”

Your eyes widened and your heart promptly thundered inside your chest. “...You have my permission.”

Jinyoung flashed his teeth in a smile at the dumbfounded look on your face and said, “Good.”

Your lover lifted your leg, letting it rest on his shoulder as he buried his face against your clothed folds, giving your cunt open-mouthed kisses. Your head fell back and you tried to roll onto your back, but Jinyoung held your hips in a vice and kept you on your side. He never gave an inch.

You reached down to thread your fingers into his messy hair, remembering how much he loved when you raked your nails through his locks while he sucked you dry. Sensitive after the years apart, you trembled with the way he kissed your pussy like he was starved. He flattened his tongue between your lower lips, tasting your essence through the fabric of your panties.

“Babe,” he called from between your legs, voice having descended an octave or two with lust. “As much as I love my present…”

You felt him winding his fists through the material and before you could reply, the panties snapped like they never stood a chance.

“They’re in my way,” Jinyoung finished with a dark smile, peeling the torn remains from your body and tossing them over his shoulder.

“I loved those,” you pouted, trying to sound sulky and not meaning a single word.

“I’ll buy you ten more,” Jinyoung said impatiently, bringing his lips to your bare pussy and taking a long, hungry lap of the arousal slipping between your folds.

You let out a noise and it completely embarrassed you, which could only mean Jinyoung loved it and wanted to hear it again as soon as possible. His arms tangled through your thighs, round your hips, and he kneaded your flesh in tandem with the sucking and licking of your cunt. You stole a breath and held it, trying to keep your sounds at bay lest you give him any more reason to tease you.

But that only spurred him on more. Jinyoung glanced up from your glistening pussy to see the tension on your face, his cock twitching in his jeans as he watched you grab a handful of the blanket and try to hide your face against it. He stroked your beautiful hips, squeezed your plump ass, and nipped your soft thighs.

Jinyoung was tempted to taunt, to ask you how it felt to have him pump his tongue inside your wet cunt, but by the look on your face, that was answer enough. He watched your breasts rise and fall and decided he would suck those next when he finished making you come.

The room filled with the sounds of his tongue and lips working your soaked pussy, your whimpering and airy moans of his name, and the moody playlist still playing on loop in the background. You suddenly remembered the windows, where all of Seoul could be watching the view of his head between your thighs, but then you were reminded the glass was tinted.

What a shame.

Jinyoung found your swollen clit and teased it between his teeth. Your lower body immediately arched away from his mouth and a loud involuntary moan left you. Your clit was a live wire, hypersensitive from years of neglect, and each time he touched it, your stomach tightened.

Given your reaction, Jinyoung made your bundle of nerves his main target. He latched his lips to the nub and rolled it with his tongue, grinning when you could no longer fight back your noises of pleasure. His jeans were unbearably tight, cock moving on its own accord with the lewd squelches of your pussy begging to be filled by every inch of him.

You clawed your fingers through his hair, tugging hard to slow him down, and whimpered, “Jinyoung, oh… god. You’re gonna make me come.”

“That’s kinda the point,” he retorted, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your inner thigh.

Your clit was throbbing, pulsing, and every touch of his tongue was pushing you hard toward the edge. You wrenched your fist in the blanket and chanted, “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t…”

Suddenly, a hand crept between your breasts, fingers finding your throat and getting a solid grip.

“Jinyoung,” you choked, though his name barely made it out of your mouth.

Jinyoung squeezed and your whining stopped. You held his wrist in your hand, the other still tangled in his hair, and accepted you were along for the ride.

He was merciless against your clit, desperate to give you climax. His hold on your neck went slack after you had calmed and you felt more arousal gush from your folds at his show of dominance.

“Fuck,” you cursed, flexing your legs as your body tried to curl away from the stimulation.

Jinyoung reeled his hand back and landed a swat on your ass, smiling against your pussy with the way you squeaked.

“Jinyoung,” you cried out in disbelief, reaching toward his arm that held your thigh. You could feel taut, bulging muscles beneath the sleeve and knew you were wholly at his mercy.

A loud smack resounded through the room as another hit connected with your ass and Jinyoung sucked your clit like he had run out of patience and it was time to come.

Begging for mercy in a whine, you dropped your head to the mattress, hair falling wildly over your face and you arched your hips against his mouth, bouncing your ass into his face. Jinyoung coaxed his hand over your heated flesh, leisurely tracing your skin to give you an ever-present reminder how quickly he could spank you again if you misbehaved.

With every breath, you let out some mortifying sound. Your clit thrummed and the scalding heat at the apex of your thighs was about to spill over and ruin you.

Without warning, Jinyoung pulled away from your aching pussy and was chest-to-chest with you in the blink of an eye, his hand still poised around your throat.

Once he had your undivided attention, his hand landed on your folds.

You cried out in surprise.

“You wanna come for me?”

Before you could answer, his palm landed on your sex again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted hurriedly. You were right on the edge, so close you could taste it. “Please let me come.”

Jinyoung bit his lip, failing to hide a smile. His pupils were blown wide, lost in arousal and pleasure. Bringing his mouth to your neck, his wet lips pressed kisses beneath your ear, and then he whispered, “On my face or on my cock?”

It was a no contest decision. “On your cock,” you replied without missing a beat, eyes wide and expectant. “Please.”

Jinyoung tapped the flat of his hand on your pussy to some random rhythm, keeping you lingering near the edge. Every brief moment of pressure on your clit was enough to make you press your thighs together.

“Please,” you said again.

Jinyoung shook his head in amusement, flashing a devilish smile at how far gone you were already. “You want me to fuck you, huh?” he teased, slipping his tongue over your bottom lip, red from where you had been biting.

“More than anything.”

Jinyoung let his gaze lock with yours momentarily before he smirked and moved back between your legs, finding your entrance with his mouth again and lapping his tongue inside.

Disappointed but not surprised that you wouldn’t be getting dick that night, you focused on your orgasm, hoping and praying he would finally give it to you.

With every roll of your hips, Jinyoung connected a smack to your ass and the sound ricocheted into your ears. You could feel your cheeks heating up, enough pressure on your neck to cloud your mind, and his name became a constant chant from your lips. Just the way he liked it.

Jinyoung returned to your clit and with his mouth, commanded your body to give him what he wanted. The intensity of release washed over you and by the way you shuddered in his grasp, Jinyoung knew you were suspended in ecstasy, but he didn’t slow down. He kept taking your clit between his lips and stimulating past your threshold.

You tapped out, tearing out of his grasp and pushing at his head until he finally set you free. Jinyoung rose to his knees and pushed you roughly to your back, gazing down at the mess he had made. You panted for breath and closed your eyes, waiting for your body to settle back down from its constant shaking.

“That pussy is still mine,” Jinyoung whispered in his gruff dialect, giving your dripping folds one last look.

When he began to move away from you, you came back to your senses and grabbed his wrist before he could get far.

Jinyoung turned to you in surprise.

“Why would you rather jack off than let me have you?” you asked desperately.

His reply was terse, “I got what I needed.”

You frowned. “Please.”

He cocked a brow and his tone was a little harsher than intended, “Please what?”

You were laid bare before him and it showed in your voice. “Touch me.”

Jinyoung was back to the game of refusing to give you what you wanted most. “Where do you want me to touch you?” he asked under his breath.

“Everywhere,” you admitted breathlessly.

He smirked, roaming his hand down your inner thigh. “Hard or gentle?”

Your lashes fluttered. “Both. Either.”

Then, he shifted mercurially and snapped, “Why would I? I’m angry with you.”

You said the first thing you thought would fix that. “I’m sorry.”

“You left me.”

As if you had forgotten. “Jinyoung…,” you started, reaching for him.

“Do your homework,” he told you dismissively.

The blood drained from your face and you gripped him tighter. “No, no, Jinyoung. Please.”

“Give me a reason.”

You yelled, “I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear?”

He shrugged, and the gesture was absolutely maddening. “No, it does nothing for me.”

Anger danced up your spine and you spit venom, “Fuck you.”

Jinyoung took your jaw in his hand, leering down at you. The dominant streak you were praising only moments before was now front and center. “Test me one more time,” he hissed in warning. “I dare you.”

You stared up at him and hesitated. His eyes were intense, smoldering. You finally offered up one last plea, “At least let me watch.”

Jinyoung tilted his head. He expected you to say anything to appease him, but that certainly wasn’t one of them. “Shirt off,” he ordered lowly, making short work of his own top.

Pulling the sweater up and over your head, you lay beneath him and spread your legs invitingly. Jinyoung got comfortable on his knees between your thighs and began unbuckling his belt. You reached forward to help, but he swiftly batted your hands away.

Your eyes didn’t know where to settle. He was so much more muscular than before. The boy you knew was strong, but lanky. Food was a commodity back then, not a right. His arms and chest bulged with strength, and you had never seen such a chiseled set of abs in your life. Then, you caught sight of his happy trail and followed it all the way down south.

Once unzipped, Jinyoung pushed down his jeans and boxers to free his hard cock. He was so aroused, his length curved toward his abs and the head was angry, weeping. You watched as he reached between your legs, gathering your slick on his fingers and stroking his cock with your juices.

Your mouth was watering, salivating for a taste. You wanted his dick in your mouth, to return the favor of a mind-blowing climax to him. Your eyes followed every move of his hand, distracted only by the flexing of his defined abdominal muscles when he pumped the head of his length. Your core tightened on nothing, aching to be filled, and you quickly swallowed the saliva in your mouth to keep from drooling.

“I miss sucking your dick,” you blurted, shameless.

Jinyoung let his tongue linger at the corner of his mouth, twitching at the clouded arousal in your eyes. Then, his gaze fell to your breasts and he licked his lips hungrily.

Seeing him distracted, you wrapped your hand around his shaft, circling the head and teasing his slit with your thumb. Jinyoung sucked in a hard breath through his teeth, losing any and all resolve to slap your hand away.

You hummed softly at the girth of him in your hands, remembering all the times he stretched you open. He seemed even bigger than before, but still so hard. He could move like silk inside you, fitting just right.

You peered up at him with coy eyes. “I want you inside me so bad.”

Jinyoung stroked his thumb over your wrist while you worked his length and said, “That’s cute.”

You cut him a glare and jutted out your lip in a pout. “You’re vicious.”

“No more than you,” he countered, breath stuttering at your quickening attempts to get him off. “We always did have that trait in common.”

You pumped him harder, pleased when he released a tiny moan. “Come on, baby,” you crooned. “I know you’ve been hard this whole time.”

Your words must have pushed him over the edge, because Jinyoung snatched your fingers and held your hand at bay as he fisted his cock and rapidly jerked himself to release, groaning when his seed finally came.

You trembled with lust when his release coated your stomach and breasts. Jinyoung tipped his head back and let out a long sigh of relief, satisfied for the moment. You flushed at how badly he turned you on. The pleasure on his face coaxed you to madness, wanting nothing more than push him to his back and ride him into oblivion just so you could see the ecstasy on his face again.

His self control was admirable. Yours was dead and buried.

“Wait here,” Jinyoung said, clambering off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom.

You wanted to be a smartass, but didn’t have the energy. As far as you were concerned, it was night and you weren’t leaving his bed until morning.

When Jinyoung returned, he told you, “Hot bath is ready.”

You sat up and asked, “What about you?”

He seemed confused. “What about me?”

“Can we… talk or something?”

Jinyoung studied you, naked save for your socks. You just didn’t want to be parted from him, not even for a moment. With an exhale, he grabbed your thigh and removed the sock, then did the same with the other side. “Yeah, come on,” he finally relented.

You smiled victoriously and trotted yourself to the bathroom in all your nude glory, feeling his gaze on your plump backside.

Sinking into the scalding water, you hummed with delight. Jinyoung fought a smile as he lowered to sit beside the tub. You sloshed around, getting comfortable, and Jinyoung watched you with nothing short of adoration. Fuck, he was head over heels. Though he was mad as hell, everything you did was just too cute.

Propping your arms on the rim of the bathtub, you rested your head overtop and called gently, “Jinyoung?”

“Yeah, baby?”

Warmed by the gentleness of his voice, you blinked through the steam of hot water and asked, “Is there any hope for us?”

He leaned his head back against the wall, arms draped on his knees, and sighed, “I don’t believe in hope anymore.”

That tugged at your heartstrings. “Oh.”

Jinyoung kept his eyes on the ceiling, not wanting to see how sweetly you looked at him, and said, “I know you hate that I joined the gang. I’ll give you that.”

It was a start, but you were surprised to hear it. Jinyoung wasn’t the type to surrender so soon and he never admitted when he was wrong. “Then, why did you do it? After I begged and begged you not to,” you asked cautiously.

“Because I was good at it,” he confessed, finally turning back to you. “I got off on the power. I realized that for once in my life, I could have all the control.”

You shook your head. “Control is an illusion.”

“It’s not,” Jinyoung interjected and he sounded convinced. “I’ve tasted it.”

You found yourself wanting to reach over and grasp his hand, but it was too far out of reach. This was the Jinyoung you knew, who was only ever vulnerable with you when it mattered. “Was it worth it? Do you sleep well at night?”

“Same as before. That hasn’t changed.” He smiled softly and whispered, “I only sleep well when you’re beside me.”

You sighed, staring at him with affection.

Then, the obstinance returned to his face and he said, “I don’t care about all the evil things I’ve done. I did them for the right reasons.”

“The road to Hell is paved with good intentions,” you sang, the same way your father always did.

Jinyoung snorted. “I prefer a paved road to a rocky one.”

You were quick to tease, “So, is this the closest I will ever get to an apology?”

Jinyoung swallowed the lump in his throat and replied, “I will never ask your forgiveness for how I chose to survive without you.”

Your eyes batted with the threat of tears. Your mouth parted to say his name.

Jinyoung shushed you, grasping your jaw and leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips. For a moment, he stared into your eyes with longing. Then, without another word, he stood to his feet and left.

Your heart wanted to burst. He was still so in love with you.

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a/n : this story was previously Lacuna on my old blog, minheoney. I’m really excited to finally finish it! This fic was my baby for so long and I’m ridiculously happy to give it a new home :)

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Say You Won’t Let Go

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1,830

Warnings: dean’s point of view, first person pov, fluff

Request by anon: Can you write a Dean x Reader based on the song Say you won't let go von James Arthur? I think it fits perfectly to Dean's third Reader POV but please do it however you want. Thank you so much.💕😊

Summary: Dean doesn’t believe he is fit for relationships until he saw you smile for the first time. Now, all he hopes is that you don’t end up letting him go.

Squares Filled: domestic au @spndeanbingo // rome wasn’t built in a day @as-the-saying-goes-bingo // pushed into them @spnfluffbingo // “Turn your greatest weakness into your greatest strength. Like Paris Hilton. RE: her sex tape.” @spnquotebingo // “dance with me” @goodthingshappenbingo // free space @spnsongchallengebingo // dreams, daydreams, and wishes for @trope-bingo // future fic @genprompt-bingo

Author’s Note: This is unbeta’d and all mistakes are mine. If you have any requests, please send them in!

Dean Winchester is a lot of things, but he’s not a relationship guy. Yes, I referred to myself in the third person, but it doesn’t change the fact that I am not fit to be in a relationship. My brother and I always moved around as kids, I never stayed in one place for too long, and I didn’t see a point to starting something new when I knew I wasn’t going to be there the next day or the next week.

I’ve done some bad shit in my days, talked back to virtually every grownup who stood in my way, and broke almost every rule. I’m not a good man, and I don’t expect some woman to see me and think they can change me.

It’s better off that I’m alone. Sammy is the one for relationships. He and Jessica are going on their third year into marriage with their first kid on the way. I’m happy for him, but that’s just not who I am…

… that is, until I met her.

I met you in the dark, you lit me up You made me feel as though I was enough We danced the night away, we drank too much I held your hair back when You were throwing up

I first met her in a bar. Jessica was out of town, so Sammy and I decided to go to a bar and have some brotherly bonding time or some shit like that. There was beer and pool, so that’s a good time for me. I could tell Sam wasn’t into it because all he was doing was checking his phone to see if his wife had texted.

“Man, go talk to your wife,” I told him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Go,” I nodded.

Sam wasted no time getting up and leaving the bar. And then there was one. It was getting kind of dead in the bar anyway, so I figured I could leave to my home and drink there. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about passing out in some strange place. I paid my bill and was about to leave when she walked in.

I stood frozen in my spot as soon as she smiled. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to resist going over to her, and I knew what I would say and do if she decided I was worth talking to. She looked like she deserved more which is why I hadn’t headed over just yet.

She headed straight to the bar, and I knew I had to stay. I would beat myself up if I miss the chance to actually talk to her. Her hair looked so smooth that I could run my fingers through it, her eyes stood out from everyone else’s, I knew I could stare into them forever if I could, and her smile made my brain short-circuit. It’s amazing I had the strength to walk over there.

Her friends were goofing off by the time I arrived, and they did something I’ll forever be grateful for. They “accidentally” pushed her into me, so she was forced to look up at me apologetically.

“I am so sorry. My friends just don’t know when to quit,” she giggled.

I think I died and went to Heaven.

“I’m Dean, what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” she winked and turned to the bartender. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

So that’s how our evening started. Her friends kind of faded into the background as we got to talking. I don’t think I ever met someone like her in my life. She kept drinking, but I wanted to remain kind of sober so I would remember this in the morning. I did things that night that I wouldn’t normally do like dance and drink and stay… for a woman I just met.

She looked like she was such a fun and outgoing spirited person. I don’t know if this is love at first sight, but I’m suddenly picturing what wedding we’re going to have. Wait, no, that’s weird. Just take it one step at a time, Dean. She ended up drinking too much that she was throwing up outside with me holding her hair back, and I smiled knowing I’d rather be doing this for her than going home alone.

Then you smiled over your shoulder For a minute, I was stone-cold sober I pulled you closer to my chest And you asked me to stay over I said, I already told ya I think that you should get some rest

“Stay with me. Or come home with me,” she giggled helplessly.

“I am getting you a cab. You need to go home. Your friends already left,” I told her as I took out my phone.

“No, Dean,” she whined and pulled me closer to her. My hands automatically fit to her hips, and her arms wrapped around my neck. “You look like you want to stay. Be weak this time and come over. Turn your greatest weakness into your greatest strength. Like Paris Hilton. RE: her sex tape.”

“I already told ya, sweetheart, I think you should get some rest,” I muttered and touched her cheek with the pads of my fingers.

“I’ll be bored without you,” she groaned.

The cab that I quickly ordered showed up, and I made sure to get her inside without hurting her.

“I put my number in your phone earlier. Call me and maybe we can do this when both of us are sober,” I laughed.

She turned to get something out of her purse as I told the driver her address. He understood and started to drive away, and that’s when Y/N looked at me over her shoulder. She smiled so widely that it sent me straight into a sober state.

If her smile can do this to me now, I wonder what it’ll do to me when we’re older.

I'll wake you up with some breakfast in bed I'll bring you coffee with a kiss on your head And I'll take the kids to school Wave them goodbye And I'll thank my lucky stars for that night

I remember our first encounter like it was yesterday. Even if five years passed with a marriage and three children, I still remember what it was like to hold Y/N’s hair back as she threw up, or that goddamn smile she gave me when the cab left the bar. I knew I was going to marry her the moment I saw her I just never knew I could have this kind of life with her.

There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her, and I tell her that every day. To show a fraction of my appreciation towards her, I make her breakfast almost every day. I bring it to her in bed because I know she loves to munch on food before she ever gets out of bed. The tray usually consists of some cut fruit, apple juice, pancakes, and bacon. The smile I get whenever I bring this to her warms my heart more than coffee could ever do.

“The kids need to go to school,” she mutters when I bring her the breakfast tray.

“I’ll take them to school and wave them goodbye and tell them how much we love them. You just rest here and eat up. I’ll be back shortly,” I whisper and kiss the top of her head.

“I love you,” she smiles brightly.

That smile is definitely going to be the death of me, but there’s no other way I’d rather go out than by the hands of her.

“I love you, sweetheart,” I mutter and give her a kiss on her lips.

“I have morning breath,” she giggles, but makes no move to get away from me.

“Y/N, if I’m getting a kiss from you, I don’t care what’s in or on your mouth.”

“I’ll remember that,” she smirks and sits up so she can eat.

“I’ll be back shortly,” I say and leave before she convinces me to stay in bed longer.

When you looked over your shoulder For a minute, I forget that I'm older I wanna dance with you right now Oh, and you look as beautiful as ever And I swear that everyday you'll get better You make me feel this way somehow

By the time I made it back to our house, she is out of bed and getting ready for the day. She’s sitting at her makeup table putting on the slightest bit of makeup. She can go full on some days, but I tell her repeatedly that I love her without it on. It makes her feel better, so I don’t say anything as she brushes on some blush or whatever she uses these days.

“You’re back,” she smiles at me from over her shoulder.

I’m immediately taken back to the very first time she did that to me, and I remember how much we’ve been through since then. I forget everything I think I know and just focus on her in that moment--our moment as the rest of the world fades into nothing. Suddenly, I’m back to being twenty-six with the knowledge I’ll never find love like my little brother has. I’m not older, but younger, and trapped in the moment she walked through those bar doors with a smile that could kill me.

“Dance with me,” I state and pull her to her feet.

“Dean Winchester, what’s gotten into you?” she giggles, but does so, nonetheless.

“You make me want to dance, and I don’t dance,” I joke.

“You’re a very good dancer,” she says.

“And you’ll be the only one who ever knows that.”

I'm gonna love you 'til My lungs give out I promise 'til death we part like in our vows So I wrote this song for you, now everybody knows That it's just you and me 'til we're grey and old Just say you won't let go Just say you won't let go

Sometimes I can’t sleep at night but knowing Y/N--the love of my life--is lying right next to me is enough to bring my dreams to life. When we wrote our vows to one another on that day, we wrote them with love. I never planned on letting her go, not until we’re grey and old and life forces us to be apart.

Much like our first encounter, I remember our wedding vows to the very last detail.

“I vow to always be by your side, to love and cherish you even if you can’t do so yourself. We could run into every obstacle life throws our way, but I’d rather go through them with you than be in peace with someone else. I never thought I’d find this before I met you, and now I realize I’ve just been waiting for you to come into my life. Just say you won’t let go because I never plan to.”

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[mossyvil]

Sugawara angst week part 2!! Reading the first part isn’t required, but some references might not make sense without it. I was at a loss as to whether I should make it happy or sad, so the main story is happy, but there is an alternate ending which is angst, placed under the cut. I hope you enjoy, I’m really happy with it for once.

You catch on to the little ‘game’ of his fairly early on. After the first call on your graduation day, it became a staple of your relationship. Short voicemails left on important days to look back on in the future, you guess.

Only an hour after you had listened to the first one he left, you found yourself giving into the idea. After seeing Suga be swept away by the other third years, it gave you time to sneak away to leave your own message for him.

⚘⚘⚘⚘

“Hi, baby. You’re currently dancing with Asahi while I record this. To answer your question, I am proud of you. You’ve come so far in these years, and it makes me happy to see how much you grew. And not to mention how our relationship has grown, i’m so glad you’re in my life, even when you eat my food.”

You chuckle lightly, and imagine Sugawara feebishly laughing while taking the food from your bento, even though you offer to make him his own every day. One of the things you grew to love about him is his ability to make you laugh like it’s as easy as breathing.

“I’m glad the team was there. Without them i’m pretty sure you would have crushed me when you threw yourself at my earlier. But Tsukishima is a good kid, and he cares about the team more than he lets on, even if that means taking care of the second years. But they have Ennoshita too, so I think they’ll be okay. Though I do worry about Kageyama and Hinata. They fight so much that I'm surprised poor Yachi hasn’t had a heart attack trying to calm them down.

But I think that as long as they have each other, they should be okay. The team is like a family, you know? A weird family, but a family nonetheless.” There’s the distinct sound of your boyfriend calling for you, and you hang up the call with a laugh and a shout that you’ll be there in a second.

⚘⚘⚘⚘

The second call is made before he gets the chance to make his. Sitting in the empty apartment, it hits you that this is your home. Your home together, now. No longer are the days trying to fill any free time with one another. The boxes sit unopened in their respective rooms, but while Sugawara is out grabbing dinner at the local fast food place, you take the moment to leave a voicemail for him.

“It feels weird saying this, but we have our own space together now. A little sanctuary just for the two of us, and maybe a cat if I get you to give in. Looking around it seems so lifeless, but I know that in just a few days you’re going to be forcing me to dance in the kitchen to old cheesy music with you.

I wonder how many matching pairs of fluffy socks we’ll have by the end of the month. My bet is on at least five, but knowing you and your love of those things it will probably be more than that. Not that i’m complaining, but keep our dresser space in mind please, babe.”

Sugawara comes back with the food, and you hastily hang up the call to meet him in the living room.

⚘⚘⚘⚘

You weren’t there when he found out that he got the job. But when you get a frantic call about how the interview went amazing and that they hired him on the spot, you find yourself pulling over on the highway to respond to him. He doesn't pick up your call, and it prompts you to leave him a message.

“I’m so proud, Sugawara! All of the hard work you put in is paying off right here, right now. I knew you could do it. You gave so much to be here, and no one deserves it as much as you. How about we go out tonight to celebrate? We can even stop at the bookstore you love so much on the way home.”

It’s a short message, but it conveys the things that needed to be said. The dinner was lovely that night, and Sugawara happily walking around the bookstore was all that you needed to be happy with your decision to bring him.

⚘⚘⚘⚘

After getting off work and listening to the voicemail he left, you call him back while sitting in the parking lot. “Your students are seriously super cute. Also, by now you should know that telling a bunch of little kids about someone won’t end well. Until you spill everything they won’t be satisfied. And what was with that weird title? Are you ashamed of calling me your partner or something?”

There is no malice in your question, which is made evident by the laugh given into the phone. 

“Anyways, I'll be home in a bit, I just got off work. Love you!”

⚘⚘⚘⚘

There’s the distinct sound of a party in the background-- as to which Sugawara later got you to confess that you made the recording after sneaking away during the reception, which earned you a light hearted smack on the arm. 

“We just got married. You looked really good in your tux, i’m not gonna lie. But just seeing you there, at the end of the aisle waiting to spend the rest of our lives together was enough to make my eyes water. I’m lucky that I managed to hold it back, though. I would never forgive myself if I couldn't see your pretty face during the ceremony.”

Suddenly you go quiet, and only the far away noise of music is heard from the reception hall.

“I really am glad that I get to be with you. There’s billions of people on the planet yet I'm the lucky one to marry you. Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you, but then you come home with another one of those damn pairs of fluffy socks and I remember that the love we hold can never be broken.

I love you, Kōshi.”

- Alternate angst ending -

The final call is made on a chilly fall morning, from a melancholy figure standing under the old yellowing tree that they seemed to visit all too frequently. If you listen closely, you can hear the whispering of the wind as it swirls, messing up their hair and the scarf wound tightly around their neck.

“Hi, Kōshi. I miss you, we all miss you. Yamaguchi called yesterday to check on me, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him how badly i’ve been doing without you.” A sad laugh, a sniffle. “I’m not sure if you’ve been watching, as much as I want to believe you are,  but Hinata and his team won nationals this weekend. Afterwards they said that they dedicated the game to you. All of the old team was there-- yes, even Tukishima came to see them.”

A gentle hand embraces them, as though trying to sooth the pain that etched itself into weary joints and made itself at home. A soft, regretful smile. A quiet “I’ll be in the car.” It’s just barely audible in the voicemail.

“I miss you, Sugawara Kōshi.”

[bluedemon1995]

Stay True To Yourself!

I read a story about a girl whose boyfriend took her to a swingers party…but neglected to tell her! And of course, that story led me down a very strange rabbit hole until this popped in my head. Ummm, this one has a little bit of a more adult theme - so please read with caution! This is an alternate reality story- obv not canon.

Katie Holt sat in the car feeling a niggling sense of unease that she cannot dismiss as hard as she tries to shove it down. She tries to narrow down the cause, thinking and analyzing as is her nature. Is it because she hasn’t been dating Mark very long and he picked her up roughly an hour ago. In fact, if she was honest, this was probably the longest amount of time she’d actually spent in his actual company. Previously, it was mostly online chats then a couple of in person short lunch coffee dates. But they were maybe twenty minutes. Is it because they are going to a party and she typically does not enjoy parties? Or maybe it’s because he’s the only person she’d know from this party, and she hates being dependent on anyone. She’d much rather rely on herself.

Regardless of the cause, she tries to shake off the feelings and enjoy the moment. Live a little in the real world like Allura said as she was helping her getting ready. Actually, if she was honest, this was the second novel experience of the day since having a friend come over and help her get ready for a date was a first as well. Yesterday, when she absently mentioned that she could not go to the movies tonight because she was going to a Christmas party with Mark, Allura got so excited. She immediately made plans to go shopping and offered to come and help me get ready. She was honestly more excited than I was but it was nice to have someone care.

Which was nice because her mom and dad had a work Christmas party to go to and her brother was on a date himself. It was nice for Allura to come over and help her out. In spite of the make up, dress and dating tips, she had a good time. Allura was only a couple of actual years older than but in experience she was decades ahead of her!

This year, partly due to their project at work, she’s gotten closer to some of co-workers or team. It’s been a nice change since high school and college where she was mostly alone except for her family and their friends. She loved feeling like people got her sarcasm, her references well, just HER. It was nice to have people who made her stop working to eat lunch or heck, even remembered to check to see if she left work for the day. Slowly but surely her team had become her friends.

Which all leads her back to a few moments ago, when Mark parked and got out of the car, stopping at the hood to wait for her. He looks impatient but whatever, she needs to take a minute alone to get her self under control. Her nerves hit a high point but deciding this was as good as it gets, Pidge stands and walks to the him, impulsively reaching out and holding his hand. It was dark and snowy, she definitely did not want to fall on ice as they walked up! How embarrassing!

He seemed surprised by her hand but quickly pulled her close, “Hey so, this is a special party and I’d really appreciate it if you kept an open mind, think of it as an of it as an experiment.”

Pidge felt like a five alarm bell was suddenly going off at the conclusion of that sentence. FUCK! What was he talking about?!? Why would he say something like that now? It was akin to setting a bomb and saying, do not look at the timer.

While Pidge is having an internal panic attack they walk in-no knocking just walk straight in the door. She doesn’t see anything right off the bat that concerns her. There’s a table where keys were thrown, shoes piled in the front hall and music playing. It was a really nice house, set in one of the fancier subdivisions of the area. Pidge was trying to keep calm but she was annoyed that he’d state something like that as they were walking in the door! What about beforehand so she could of decided?!? And he really didn’t tell her anything, which is worse than knowing.

He takes his shoes off, she does the same. Hesitating, he turns and pulls her towards the kitchen. “Drink? What’s your poison?”

Pidge sighs, beer seems safe and not like she’s going to be drinking much of anything after that bomb he dropped walking in. “Beer is fine, I’d like light if they got it.”

He nods and goes towards the coolers lined up along the wall. Pidge does what she does best, fades into the background and observes the room carefully. The lights seem dim and she could see out the patio doors that more people are out there by the pool. She squints, maybe it’s the just the glare…but are those people naked?!?

Mark comes back at that time with a draft beer which means I won’t be taking a drink of it. Why wouldn’t he give me a bottle or can that I could open myself? I’m quiet and watch Mark take in the party. I wonder who he knows? Suddenly, I look at a pretty girl in a Mrs. Claus outfit who comes up to Mark. She smiles brightly, and proceeds to lock lips with Mark, wow. She’s actually impressive with her ability to wrap around him like a snake yet keep her hand with her drink still, not spilling a drop. I’m actually impressed! My eyes dart around the room, trying to gauge what the hell is going on here. Why would he bring me here if he already has girl???

Finally she breaks off and slides over to me, “Hi, Danni with an I, wanna make out?”

I blink, rapidly, “Um, no, I’m good, but, uh, thank you for the offer though.”

She smiles, “Okay! If you change your mind I’ll be around!”

She flounced away and I looked to Mark, quietly questioning, “Exactly what kind of Christmas party is this? Why am I even here?!?”

He chucked, “It’s a swingers party and you can’t come alone. You NEED to bring a date, you know for the numbers. C’mon, this will be fun.”

I look at him feeling myself turn red. “Wait a minute, I bought a fucking new outfit for this?!? I put goddamn makeup on! You fucking asshole! Look, I could give two shits about what you do, honestly, we aren’t involved like that but why involve me? Could you not find someone else to bring? For fuck’s sake!”

Mark stared at me, having the NERVE to arch a brow, “Cursing really? You know swearing is for people not intelligent enough to come up with a better word. Besides, don’t be a prude, look walk around and find someone you find interesting or hot. There are a lot of people here, like it’s not that hard.”

I close my eyes and as bad as I want to hit him, curse him out, I refrain. Oh, he will pay, just later when there aren’t about a hundred witnesses who can fill out a police report. I take a breath and walk away, back to the front door. I look at the keys, but they all look the same, how would I know which is which. I guess I could take them all but what if someone wants to leave. I step out to the front steps.

Honestly, this could not have happened on a worse night. I can’t call Matt, he’s finally on a date with his current dream girl and my parents at that work party. I close my eyes, take a breath to reign in my anxiety that is sky rocketing and first I try Allura. But, duh, she’s at the movies with Romelle and probably turned her phone off. Shit. My eyes fill with tears but I refuse to let them fall. I take a deep breath, trying Hunk instead another coworker. Straight to voicemail. Shit he might be sleeping.

I look at my contacts and realize, I don’t have a long list of people to call. I sit and sigh, okay no matter how embarrassing I could always get an Uber. I schedule one but because I’m so far it will take about an hour. I walk around to the back and sit on a chair in the dark corner of the backyard. Sitting, I let my finger hover over the last name to try. Here goes nothing. Hanging up I text a short message. What the hell do I have to lose at this point.

I sit. And sit. I don’t know how many girls and guys I rebuff but something about a person not wanting to hook up makes people want to hook up with you apparently. Jeesh, in my real life, no one wanted to date me now everyone was trying to have sex with me. WTF?

Sighing I look at my phone, and crap, it looks like all my surfing has killed my battery. Suddenly a very naked Mark and a different Mrs. Claus come up to me.

Mrs. Claus giggles out, “Hey if you’re nervous, you could totally hook up with my husband. He’s the hot elf over there, standing on the edge of the pool and hot tub. It will be fun! Then if we like, we could continue next week!!” She giggles a lot and I try not to be rude.

“Thank you for that kind offer, but I’m good.”

She shrugs, “Sure thing baby, but aren’t you bored. Marky said you were shy and um, a novice. Don’t be afraid.”

Mark turns and Pidge can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Only for some guy in his boxers to edge into her space. “Darlin’, you-me-, it’s written in the stars baby.”

I groan, “Nope. You misread them, thank tho.”

Usually once I say no, they just move on. But nope, not this one. “Don’t be a prude. Sex is very natural. It’s elemental. It’s like essential. You need me baby!!”

Really, that’s his line? I shake my head no, but now we’ve got a crowd. I hear people interject how I’m falling into societies lanes and I must be a virgin because I’m sitting by myself. Then I hear people say I should be grateful and oh my gosh, yep, I’ve been transported back to high school. Except I’m not a self conscious kid anymore and I don’t give a fuck what they think about me. But, I’ll be damned if I don’t respond. No one pushes me or pressures me to do something I don’t want to. And I’ve never just gone with the crowd cuz it was easier, not then, not now.

I hear a roar and suddenly all attention is lost on me. I decided to leave before my temper actually erupts. I quickly move towards the gate to get the hell out of here. I’d rather walk home then stay here. Fuck Mark and his party. I might actually brainstorm with Allura and Romelle on a way to get back at him. Something embarrassing.

As I walk away I hear Mark yelling my name, “Katie! Katie! Don’t walk away! You need to expand your senses and life. Don’t be scared. There is so much I could teach you. Don’t be such a prude!”

Laughter.

Well fuck him. Now I’m pissed. I’m not scared. I just don’t want to do this. Yet, who does he think he is telling me what I should do. As if. And what if he did this to other girls, who weren’t able to say no? I turn around and calmly but loudly state, while looking straight at him, “Look, don’t act like I’m the scared one. Who didn’t tell me where they were taking me. If this was a scene I was into, fine. And believe me, I will sleep with whoever I want. I just don’t want to sleep with you nor do I have anything to prove to anyone. But if and when I see a guy or girl for that matter, that I’d like to fuck, then I would. So, shut up, cause Marky you’re just not it.”

I could hear murmurs and then Mark yelling, and his feet slapping on the ground. Ughhhhh. One thing I could be thankful for is seeing him naked, cuz ick. He has no muscle definition and oh my God, I cannot wait to tell Allura how he looks like he waxes cuz he has no hair anywhere on his body.

I turn to walk away and see a guy who I have HAD the luxury of day dreaming about striding towards me with an shit eating smirk. Well, shit, of course. My eyes closes but it doesn’t stop my from seeing him behind my eyes. His hair is slightly matted from his helmet which means the roar must have been his Harley. He has one of his many black t-shirts on with his favorite leather jacket over it. His jeans are well worn and faded not those designer ones that only look used. He has on his riding boots, which of course give him another inch or so of height. Which he loves. Opening my eyes I see him about 6 feet away and I see he still has his riding gloves on.

I determinedly walk towards him only to hear Mark scream, his feet slapping, or at least I hope it’s his feet. He yells, “Yeah right, you prude-like you would ever-“

I reach said hot guy and say, “I’m kissing you in two seconds. One, two.”

I fist my hand in his shirt and pull him closer to me. Except he doesn’t move, so I look up into his eyes and arch a brow, he arches his, which causes me to roll my eyes and I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell when grins. With his hands on my hips pulls me into his hard body, throwing me off balance. I slip my arms around him lift my head and his lips slam onto mine. Ok, point proven. Yet, as I lean back to break the kiss, I feel two arms encompass me, hold me close and reposition me.

His mouth re-angles on mine, I feel myself lifted on my tip toes. Omg, the heat of his body is amazing. I didn’t even realize I was cold sitting out here but against his body I felt like was next to a heater. His tongue pushes past my lips and, well, I stopped thinking for a full minute, hell maybe minutes. It was that good of a kiss. Shit. His tongue stroked mine, made me shiver and then he nipped my lip causing a groan. I literally could feel him smile and I was going to move back when his hand fisted in my hair and he started to kiss my neck and holy crap! I think my knees buckled but it didn’t matter because he picked me up and my legs were suddenly wrapped around his waist. His hands were supporting my weight but I think they were actually under my dress. My hands were in his hair and digging into his shoulder respectively. Well. Hell.

I don’t know how long that went on for when suddenly I hear Mark right next to us yelling, “That’s enough.”

Slowly pulling back, his gravelly voice questions, “Outta here or are we continuing the show? Just to be clear, I’m good with either decision.” He then arches that fucking brow.

Face flaming, I whisper, “Let’s go. Please.”

Eyes on me, he nods. “What’s asshole’s name?”

“Mark.”

Nodding he raises his voice, “Hey Mark, fuck off and if I ever see you again, you’re dead.”

A girl in just a string bikini bottom steps in front of us, drawing our attention. Her hand is gliding down her chest when she looks right at him, throatily murmuring, “Wanna upgrade?”

He laughs, “Um already did. Let’s go Pidge.”

He moves his hands and I lower my legs. He instantly laces his fingers with mine and pulls me to the path back to the front. “Keith! You can’t say that! You know about Mark being dead meat.”

“Just did.”

“Why, what, are you even doing here?”

As he places his helmet on my head and carefully tightens the straps, “I saw Shiro’s phone buzz, so I looked. It seemed like something that couldn’t wait. So here I am.”

Blinking I nod, “Okay. I said I had an Uber coming.”

“Saw, don’t care. I, um, didn’t like the idea of you being here when you didn’t want to be. So yeah, deal.”

“But why didn’t you respond?”

“I pinged your location to my phone and left. Didn’t think about it honestly.”

“What if I was gone?”

He shrugged as we approached his bike, which was on the lawn! “As long as you were safe.”

He then takes off his coat, slipping it around my shoulders, “Arms in, it’s cold when we start moving.” Eyes on her legs, fingers play with her skirt, brushing her thighs. “I can’t do anything about your legs though. Let me know if you need a break. We can stop as often as you need.”

I nod, and as we drive into the night, my arms tight around his waist, I can’t help but smile. Keith Fucking Kogane. Damn this boy can kiss. Maybe there is hope for my love life after all. I feel his hand cover my hand on his abdomen, squeeze and drift down to my leg. I squeeze him a little tighter and I know it’s just my imagination but I swear I can hear his laughter.

My hero.

[eerythingisshaka]

PTA II

[Trevante Rhodes x Reader]

Word Count: 2.4k

Angsty Fluff

Part 1

Looking at your desk, you wonder how it’s gotten even more junky since working from home.  A rainbow of notebooks and sticky pads scatter its surface with reminders and past lesson plans that beg for organization.  You pick them up in clusters, doing a vague clean up as you check the clock on your computer to see you have ten minutes until showtime.  Your kids will be logging in for their Zoom classroom to begin.  

You’re starting a new chapter on the Civil War today and although you knew it like the back of your hand, you freaked out at the moment, not able to find your presentation in any of the appropriate desktop folders.  Unfortunately your virtual desktop was every bit as messy as your physical one.  Clicking through the dated lesson plans, you finally find what you are looking for, opening it to prepare for sharing as your breakfast sandwich dings in the microwave.  You meander through the obstacle course of your living room to grab your meal to go, almost burning your hand from its fresh heat as you sit back down, just in time to start off the lesson.

“Good Morning class!  Happy Monday!”

“Good Morning!”  They all say in scattered succession, your greeting back.  

You dig right into the lesson at hand with dates, names, places, and all that is in between. The kids were assigned a chapter before the weekend to prepare for discussion and luckily most of them seemed to have at least skimmed the topic beforehand.

“Ok guys, now we have a few more minutes before I have to assign this week’s project, so does anyone have any questions?”

One young man, Nemour raised his hand.  “Yes, do you think, um, like could this happen again, do you think?”

You couldn’t hold back the gag on your face from the insightful question.  “That’s a good question.  And I know it really fits with some things that are talked about in politics today.  I won’t say that it never is going to happen, but I also will not scare you into thinking that it will.  Civil Wars are happening today in countries all over so it is not a subject that is new or forgotten.  But use the events that lead up to it and think about what we do that could avoid the conflict or what are tells that signify that war is imminent.  Thank you for that question Nemour because it segues us into this week’s project…”

Displeasure washed across several of your students’ faces but you have been blind to that behavior for years now so you began the rundown:  three page essay on any aspect of the Civil War they may choose.  

“You may email me and we can discuss your idea and if it is a topic that can fill three pages.  I want a citation page, credible sources.  See me if you need a review on what a credible source is.  I will see you again tomorrow guys.  Be safe!” 

The blips of each person signing off is your background noise as you put aside your notes once more, dropping your pen in the process.  

You pick it up and hear something in the background of Nemour’s video.  

“Nemour?”  You call out the student’s name but they must’ve forgotten to sign off.  You begin to hang up yourself, when someone comes into frame.

“Nemour, I told you to clean up your room before school started so I could get this laundry done, damn!”  

You recognize the shirtless man strutting with a laundry basket under his arm as Trevante Rhodes, Nemour’s dad.  You had a run in with him before that left you more than flustered but you stuck to your morals to ensure nothing came of it.  Luckily, Nemour’s been doing well and no one has messed with his things, so any teacher-parent meetings are only the ones required by the school.  

“Ahh ah ahh ah ah AHHHHH!  Caught up in the rapture of love…”  He sang out loud, setting the basket on a table to free his shoulders up for some bopping.  

You can’t look away and didn’t dare end the session as the show was just getting started.  Trevante rolls his shoulders, pumping his fists victoriously in rhythm with the song.  You take a bite of your breakfast sandwich covertly appreciating the show.

“I love you here by me/ You let me love fly free…”

He spins around quickly on his toes ending on a pose before the next verse.  His body is an artist’s dream with each flex he made.  You could tell before that he is a fit man but nothing beats seeing the evidence unadulterated.  His thick torso kept steady by his deep abs, kiny hair peppered across his chest for flavor.  And those arms, what can be said about these family style, thick cuts-

“Ms (Y/N)?”  You snap out of your inner study and forget you are in full view of him seeing you.  Hanging up abruptly flashed through as an option but it made no sense now you were caught.

You shuffle some papers as he takes out his AirPods and comes closer to the camera.   “That is you!”

You look up in feigned surprise, coughing up your previous bite of sandwich.  “Oh, Mr. Rhodes!  Did Nemour forget to sign off.  Oh well, I was just going to-”

“Nemour!”  Trevante yells out.  The soft patter of feet become louder. 

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Your teacher is waiting on you, whatchu doin?”

“No no!  I wasn’t waiting!”  You say fervently.

Nemour peeks over his dad’s arm.  “Hi Ms (Y/N).  Did you need me?”

You smile disingenuously.  “No, I was just about to sign off.  Just don’t forget that project, ok?”

“Yes ma’am.”  He runs out the room as his dad calls out.

“Talk to me about this project when I’m done talking to your teacher!”  Trevante takes a seat, looking pleased with the predicament.  You are mortified, sitting your your head in your hands.

“So...how you been?  You look well.”  Trevante says with an enthused smile.

You look to him and return a tight one.  “Thanks.  I can’t say I’ve done much of anything but good to know I don’t look worse since our last talk.”

Trevante leans forward with his chin in his hand and you try not to imagine sinking your teeth into it.  “Please, you’re blessed to not need much.  Natural beauty.”

You take in the compliment with an inhale.  “Sure, thanks,”  you say, noticing a spot of jelly landed on your chest, probably after that last bite.  You rub you chest to get the tiny stain out.

“Wow, that looks damn good,”  Trevante says when you’re done.

You hold a hand to your chest, gasping in outrage.  “Mr. Rhodes!  I really don’t take kindly to forward comments referring to my body!”

Trevante purses his lips together, resting his chin on his fist.  “I...meant that sandwich.  I can see it below there.”

Your mouth hangs open staring from the sandwich to the meal in front of you.  “I am...so sorry...”

“Don’t worry about it.  Hey, how was your date?”  he asks quickly with a forgiving look. 

You think of his question with confusion before you realize that you had brought up meeting someone on Valentines Day after the meeting with him last time.  

“You remember that?”  You ask, slightly impressed.

He nods.  “Of course.  I’m that kind of person, receptive to information and it sticks.  That’s why Nemour so good at school, gets it from Daddy.”

“Good to know.  But the date didn’t go as well as I hoped it would…”

Trevante cocks his head to the side inquisitive.  “Huh.  Where’d y’all go?”

You roll your eyes automatically.  “He told me to meet him up at this mom and pop diner, which I’m not stuck up!  If the food is good, I’m practically down for anything!”

“Ok, ok, so what was the problem?”

“He knew the family that owned the place, so his meal was free.  We ordered like a late night breakfast thing and it wasn’t good.  My food was both bland and overseasoned and the eggs I asked for were runny when I wanted a hard scramble.”

“Oh no,”  he shakes his head.

“And in the end, even though his meal was paid, I had to pay for mine because he’s ‘in between things right now’.  Then I had to give him a ride home and he offered his bed to me since his mama was asleep on some Xanax.”

Trevante rears his head back covering his mouth with his fist during his hoot-and-holler.  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but that was pretty damn bad.”

You laugh graciously.  “I know, but he was cute and I swear he seemed to have more potential than most other guys on the apps so maybe it was just a bad day?”

“You are giving these playas too much credit!  And apps?  Shoot, you could pull any ole dude off the street on a Tuesday just taking out the trash.”

“Mr. Rhodes-”

“Trevante works.  Sometime Tre, sometimes Te but hold the Mr. Rhodes for me, please.”

“Fine, but only on here, I can’t call parents by their first names in public, it’s just too formal for me.”  

Trevante gets a sneaky grin on his face, scratching his beard stealthily.  “So, you want to talk to me on here more often?”

Your jaw drops, aghast.  “Mr… Trevante, I never said that.  You’re always putting words in my mouth.”

He shrugs.  “I’m sorry.  It’s just so pretty, I can’t help but wanna hear it say things I wanna hear.”

You twist in your chair, barely composing yourself with his sly talk.  “Wow!  You never quit!”

“I will when you do!”  

You face each other in a standoff over each other’s screen.  He was slowly tearing down your walls as much as you tried to reinforce them with professionalism.

“Ok,” you say.

“What’s ok?”  

You sit forward, building up the nerve.  “IF we were to discuss things outside of schoolwork and your son, how would that go?”

Trevante rubs his hands together.  “Well, first-”

You put a finger up.  “Remember that I have a busy schedule with assignments and we are in quarantine so no way we could be in the same room or eat out.”

Trevante looks off into space, thinking.  “Ok, so when do you usually turn down for the night?”

“For bed?  Probably ten if I am lucky.”

He nods, rubbing his chin philosophically.  “What are you having for dinner?”

“...probably this pasta thing I picked up at the store…” you say reluctantly.

Trevante claps his hands together.  “That’s it!  Ok, I gotta go but let’s talk later, aight?”

Before you could question him further, he hangs up the video call.  You sat there pondering what just happened.  Trevante is pretty straightforward with you but that ended on an unusual note.  And then you began to think back to his smile and body and laugh and compliments, making your head curl toward your lap with giddiness.  

“God he is so fine.”

Later that evening you are laid across your couch in full snuggy mode: bonnet on, pimple cream where needed, tshirt and titties freeballing.  You set your reheated pasta meal down to cool and look through your emails one more time before calling it a night.  You have more than one concerned parent who will message you at ungodly hours about why Timmy and Jane aren’t getting an A+ average and their stress allows you to sleep peacefully as you’re reminded how unbothered you are since students make the grades, not you.

As usual, there is one new unread message to check out and of all people it is Nemour’s dad.  No subject line, but the body of the email asking you to log on to video call him.

This was sent almost an hour ago, so you feel pretty secure that he is not on and let your curiosity lead you to the app.

Not long after, you get an invitation from Trevante.

“Hey!”  he says, smiling wide (this time with a shirt on)  after you accept.  You begin to smile back but catch a glimpse of you in video and feel instant regret.

“What’s wrong?”  he asks, slurping some spaghetti up.

“I forgot what I looked like, I should’ve waited to talk in the morning,” you say apologetically.

Trevante waves a hand at you.  “Don’t worry about all that.  You getting ready to wind down, right?”

You pick up your dinner and show him on camera.  “Pasta and all.”

“Great, so the date is on!  How was your day since we last spoke?”  he asks, slurping more spaghetti and taking a bite out of some garlic bread.

You scoff, poking at your penne.  “So this is why you didn’t answer me?  This is your plan for a date?”

He holds his hands out humbly.  “A brotha gotta try.  You so busy and remember we are in a quarantine so I can’t have you coming here with those beautiful germs of yours.”

“Wow, sure ok.  Throw it back at me.  Got it.”

You take a bite of your pasta as ladylike as possible, giving a rundown of your day which wasn’t much to take note of as Trevante noisily slurps his spaghetti making you laugh.

“What’s up?”  he asks, wiping his mouth.

“I...well your meal looks better than mine.  At least you make it look better.”

He licks his lips before smiling, lighting your spirit as you smirk into your food.

“What can I say, I get down in the kitchen when I can.  I wasn’t bout to heat up some frozen mess and call that a meal, you know?  I gotta eat real food!”

You drop your fork.  “Ok, Mr. Anita Baker!  I know when I’ve been disrespected!”

Trevante gets nervous having offended you.  “Wait wait!  My bad, ok?”

You point at him with all authority.  “My food is my business.”

“No problem, I’ll hold back, but not too much on Anita.  And maybe I’ll order you some DoorDash or something next time.”

“If,” you warn.

Trevante gives you a playful face.  “If not, I’ll just tell Nemour to quit doing his homework and we can conference about it.”

“Oh bye, he’s too smart for that!”

Trevante laughs.  “You probably right.  Look, I don’t mean to push, but I’m glad you made time to see me here tonight.”

His eyes look at you genuinely pleased and you feel that familiar giddiness creeping up.  

“I’m glad you invited me.  Just this little bit is better than my last date, so points to you.”

Trevante stares at you contently.  “You know if we were outside, this is when we’d kiss.”

You look up to the ceiling.  “Here you go!”

“I felt the moment!  Don’t lie!”

You look at him defiantly.  “Too bad we won’t know until that time comes.”

He wags a finger at you.  “See?  You keep thinking these are conversation ending phrases, but you baiting me.  So there’s a next time ahead of us!  Hit me up for a Netflix Party and Chill.”

“Good night, Te,”  you say exasperatedly.

“Have a good day at school tomorrow.”

You hang up first and sail backward, laying across your couch feeling like you ran a marathon.  This could all still be forgotten.  You aren’t too deep to deny him.  He called this a date but come on, did it count?  You sit up to poke at the remnants of your meal and think about his lips slurping up the spaghetti hungrily.  And the kiss that would have sent you to bed happily.   

Part 3

Masterlist

Tag

@chaneajoyyy​

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #8- I’m Sorry, the Domain Name thebomb.com is Already in Use

It’s been a hot minute since we last got to focus on the Scavengers- ah, the chaotic nature of comic print schedules! Luckily, we’ve got a Story So Far to remind us where we left off.

Our issue starts 10,000 years in the past, where Fulcrum is riding in a plane and preparing to drop with his fellow K-Cons. It’s crowded, there’s a guy crying in the corner, everyone’s wearing the same outfit, and no one’s got time to go home and change. How embarrassing!

Torque’s never heard of personal space, as is made apparent by his power-stance pelvic thrusting here. Fulcrum is less than impressed by this show of bravado, but there’s no time to dwell on it because it’s time to jump the glory of Megatron.

At least one of them is having a good time.

In the present day, the Scavengers are freaking the hell out, because as it turns out, it’s THEM who’re afraid of the DJD.

Krok keeps trying to reach his old squad, as if anything short of Megatron himself would be able to save them from the horrible death coming their way, while Flywheels grapples with his faith and inferiority complex at the same time.

Spinister brings up a decent point, despite Misfire’s earlier claim that he’s the stupidest creature in the universe- Misfire is kind of an asshole, so anything he says involving just about anything should be taken with a grain of salt- but the problem is, nobody in their right mind would incriminate themselves to the DJD if they could help it. Also, everyone knows that Tarn’s got his head way too far up his own ass to have any sort of rhyme or reason for anything he does beyond the 𝕒𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕔.

Krok leans on his career as a military strategist to come up with a few ideas, and the boys decide to fight the DJD, after so much bitching and moaning.

But the DJD… the Decepticon Justice Division… are also Decepticons. Crankcase, are you gatekeeping here, my dude? Because I don’t think this is an internet debate you’re going to win.

The fellas decide that they’ll do what they do best, and use what’s been laying around in the dust and blood for thousands of years to fight off some of the scariest folks in the galaxy. What could possibly go wrong?

Over on the Lost Light, Chromedome and Skids are having a secret rendezvous at the oil reservoir, in secret and behind Rewind’s back, as Chromedome proceeds to call Skids handsome. No, they aren’t having a secret love affair, but are instead going to mnemosurgery the shit out of Skids. Rewind doesn’t like that Chromedome is still doing this, but what Rewind doesn’t know won’t hurt him, surely. We’ll find out just why exactly Rewind isn’t a fan of Chromedome’s line of work later on, but for now it’s time to dig around in a hot guy’s brain.

Just kidding, it’s Scavenger time.

The Scavengers have set up a trap for the DJD, and that trap is Grimlock; still locked in his stasis pod, they’re pulling a “rigged box and stick with a piece of cheese inside” maneuver. Let’s see how this plays out.

Hmm. That’s not a great start.

The Peaceful Tyranny lands, Tarn transforms, comes down the gangplank, transforms, waxes poetic about the brilliance of the Decepticon copy writers, transforms, drives 15 feet, transforms, then, after clearly stating that the big stasis pod in the middle of nowhere is a trap, opens it anyway.

Never has a nut-punch been more deserved than in this exact moment.

Grimlock has a strong start, but almost immediately begins to flag, as he’s put down by Tesaurus. This is why we do warmups prior to rigorous exercise, people!

Misfire tries to sneak off while Tarn’s distracted whispering into Grimlock’s ear like one would a lover, but that doesn’t really work out.

Back over on the Lost Light, Chromedome’s having a time and a half trying to parse just what the hell’s going on with Skid’s head. All his memories from the last year aren’t lost, but rather destroyed, which is concerning to say the least, only leaving a need to escape. There’s also some nasty beast in Skid’s more distant past that Chromedome can see. However, it would seem that Skid’s brain took the out when it saw one and buried that nightmare so deep it’ll take multiple sticks of dynamite to wiggle it loose, so Chromedome’s leaving it where it is.

What this tells me is that Rung has no business referring patients to Chromedome for treatment, if this is how we’re meant to handle repressed memories. Remember back in issue #6, when Fort Max claimed he didn’t remember what happened in Garrus 9, and Rung was all “oh let me just call my guy Chromedome and have him stir your brain around like a martini”? Turns out, either that’s a terrible idea and Rung hasn’t paid attention to the work that half his coworkers on Kimia were involved with, or he was making an empty threat, which doesn’t seem like great practice for a therapist.

Pretty fucked up of you, Rung.

Anyways, Skids is less than thrilled by this, and demands Chromedome do it anyway, which Chromedome promptly refuses. He’ll play around with his own life, but not his friends’. Skids walks off in a huff, because I guess no one’s ever refused his pretty ass anything before, but asks a question before he leaves.

Well, I’m sure that won’t be a major plot point later on.

Let’s check back in with the Scavengers.

Between Tesaurus’ line here, Tarn harassing Grimlock, and Skids’ asking Chromedome why he pulled out during their secret meeting, this is probably the most sexually-charged issue of MTMTE so far.

Flywheels’ only purpose as a character was so that Roberts had a stand-in for the word “fuck” last issue. Sorry, dude, you’ve done your job. Off to the shredder with you!

No time to worry about him, Krok, because it’s time for your face mask treatment at the universe’s shittiest spa.

The worst part about this is the fact that he’s being held a full nelson by the DJD’s record-keeper, who turns into a fucking chair and doesn’t even have eyes. Oh, the indignity of it all.

Misfire tries to save Krok, but all he manages to do is prove that his nickname isn’t ironic in the slightest. Then he’s attacked by a dog.

That shadow being tossed towards the horizon in the background is Crankcase, who lands right about where Fulcrum’s been hiding this entire time, like the giant coward he is, as he watches these guys who tried to steal his organs get murdered to death. He runs off, and Crankcase plays to stereotype and gripes about the whole situation, until he notices something above him.

Then he immediately drops dead, because as it turns out Misfire wasn’t exaggerating when he said Crankcase would die if he ever even thought about smiling.

Over in Tarn’s soliloquy corner, he’s managed to stab his thumb so hard into Grimlock’s throat it’s literally bleeding, as he trash talks the Scavengers, calling them the “six biggest failures of all”. Harsh. Grimlock’s not contributing to the diatribe, probably because there’s a hole in his throat that’s about where a trach would go.

Then Tarn has a bit of a problem, as he’s stepped on by a robot that’s roughly twenty times bigger than him.

I guess Crankcase must be the sixth worst Decepticon, because he’s gotten himself hooked up with this massive Jaeger Cybernought, one of the many that are strapped to the back of the Worldsweeper they found last issue. It’s a big friggin’ ship, we can forgive the oversight.

The DJD aren’t impressed by this new toy, and almost immediately take it down. Tarn, really starting to get peeved off about not getting to what they actually came here to do, yells for Fulcrum to show himself. Fulcrum, as it turns out, has managed to climb on top of the Worldsweeper, and is at least a few hundred feet above them. Because none of the DJD can fly, they have no choice but to listen to Fulcrum’s little speech.

Fulcrum was forged at the height of the Decepticon Empire, when the rhetoric was more “space eugenics sucks” and less “murder everything while Megatron has weird sexual tension with Optimus in the background”. Of course, they were still hunting organic species to flex, so maybe things weren’t perfect… though it isn’t like Fulcrum minded that aspect. Dude’s a little space racist.

Spacist.

The way Fulcrum sees it, folks like Tarn went and fucked up a good thing by being all murderous and violent just because they could, unlike his good pals the Scavengers, who are only murderous and violent when it’s necessary. “Necessary” is a word that’s played with kind of fast and loose with them, mind you, but they seem like pretty swell guys to Fulcrum. They’re definitely better than the DJD.

With one last “fuck you” to Tarn, Fulcrum takes a running leap off the top of this astonishingly huge ship and finally reveals just why exactly K-Cons aren’t known for doing fear.

Because who the fuck has ever asked a bomb how it’s feeling?

Everyone clears the area, as he hits the ground… and nothing happens. Fulcrum is marked off the List, the Scavengers are added, and the DJD fuck off without checking that their target is actually dead so they can go find Overlord and kick his ass.

Fulcrum’s fine, by the way.

This is why we check our work, Tarn.

Fulcrum, who is, again, a bomb, is a bit curious as to what’s happened here. Turns out, prior to the boys riffling through his torso for spare parts, Spinister- master surgeon Spinister- removed the explosive charge tucked up against his robot liver. Fulcrum is amazed by this news, because it’s apparently a super hard thing to do.

Are we sure that Spinister isn’t just super nearsighted? The world’s been described as a series of vaguely hostile shapes, is he playing it safe and attacking the things he can’t figure out within a few seconds? Maybe all that hand-staring he does is to gauge how shitty his vision is on a day to day basis, and everyone just assigned him Stupid At Birth because trying to understand our friends is for losers.

Then again, we should also remember that everyone in the Scavengers is so incredibly stupid, they couldn’t figure out between the five of them that Fulcrum had been alive while it was happening. Spinister probably wasn’t gentle with that procedure since he thought he was working with a corpse; for all we know, Fulcrum’s got his sparkcase inside-out now.

Crankcase carries poor, faceless Krok over, and Fulcrum laments on the fact that Krok’s squad never turned up. Crankcase implies something ominous about Krok’s method of communication with his old squadron, then we get the skinny on Fulcrum’s whole deal.

Yes, yes, I know B’lahr 39 is a reference to Wizard of Oz actor Bert Lahr, who played the Cowardly Lion. I caught that one before I’d even checked TFWiki for interesting notes on this issue. I was a film major in college, I’m legally required to know every single bit of trivia about the Wizard of Oz. It’s the second thing they beat into you, right after watching Citizen Kane for the 87th time.

Also, how many nerds are going to be in this series? Fulcrum’s a technician, Krok’s a strategist, Spinister and 3/4 of the Lost Light are doctors in some form or fashion, Tarn’s a friggin drama kid, the list goes on.

When Fulcrum was caught, the original plan was to have him tortured and killed at Styx, a  Decepticon penal colony, when plans changed and he got reformatted along with everyone else in the joint to be a suicide bomber.

If Fulcrum seems like a bit of a generic name for a giant space robot, it’s probably because it is. Fulcrum’s original alt-mode wasn’t a bomb- in fact, I have no idea what it’s meant to be. Word of God makes the claim that he turned into a leg prior to getting K-classed, but since Combiner teams have to be made in this continuity, that’s not what he came into being as. He’s got a tiddy window like Rung- something that will be more apparent when Josh Burcham is replaced by Joana Lafluente as the primary colorist for the comic run- but that seems more indicative of having minimal armor than any sort of alt.

Anyway, there’s something in the reformat to K-Con that compels one to switch to bomb mode when you jump ship- but it didn’t happen for Fulcrum, because he was so unbelievably terrified that he might have actually defied biology.

The others have stopped listening by this point, and have joined Spinister in poking the still-prone Grimlock with a stick. Misfire, in the first show of something like empathy we’ve really gotten from him, asks the fellas to help the poor guy up.

Sure, make the guy who’s a stiff breeze away from cracking in half lift the biggest motherfucker on this planet. Sounds like a plan.

Misfire does his damnedest to communicate to Grimlock that they come in peace.

Behold, the price of nostalgia!

This isn’t exactly where we left Grimlock last time he was in an IDW publishing. The last guy to have his hands on everyone’s favorite dinobot was Simon Furman, and he was a lot more well-spoken there. It would seem that no one got out of Garrus 9 unscathed.

This development is a bit of a problem for the Scavengers, who now aren’t quite sure what to do with a infamous warrior-bastard who’s mentally regressed to the point that he’s got to think about what his own name is. To be fair, most people wouldn’t know what to do in that sort of situation. Doesn’t help that the guy who usually has the braincell is currently passed out from face-based puncture trauma.

Misfire decides that they’ll take Grimlock along with them for collateral, and everyone is so impressed by him actually planning something out, they forget to think about the logistics of housing a whole entire T-Rex.

The guys, I guess just leaving Grimlock and the unconscious Krok in the dirt, go to find what’s left of Flywheels- basically the hips down is still intact. After a few kind words, the final rites are performed.

You will be missed, Flywheels, clearly.

You never see the Autobots resorting to cannibalism like this. Maybe they’re just better at making it not look like a vulture swarm.

Many, many months later, long after the Scavengers have left the planet of Clemency, a lone figure visits what’s left of dear Flywheels- it’s the Necrobot. That’s right, the Robo-Reaper is real, and it looks like he’s been busy.

…Spoilers, Necrobot! Come on!

After the story proper, we get a Meet the ‘Cons page. Let’s take a gander, shall we?

No.

NO.

NO!

I draw the line at this motherfucking sniper rifle having a college degree. What possible scientific field of study could he possibly-

It’s ballistics. He studied ballistics, didn’t he?

You know what? Fuck this, actually. See y’all later.

…Fuck you, Vos.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

Erik and the Readers first Christmas together

Santa baby

Just slip a benzo under the tree for me

A '98 convertible, light blue

I'm looking for a fly guy, like you

So hurry down the chimney tonight

“Erik, what happened to my pretty black angel with the curly hair?”

Y/N didn’t notice it when they put the tree up a week ago but the angel that she purchased on Etsy couldn’t be found. The top of the tree was bare and that irritated her.

“I don’t know, girl, check the living room, next to the couches.” Erik yelled from their bedroom. Y/N went looking for it, finally coming across a UPS package. It had her name on it and when she used the box cutter in the living room to open it, sure enough, it was the damn angel.

“I’ve been so busy shopping I forgot about this pretty ornament.”

Y/N climbs the stairs, finally at the top and placing the angel at the top of the tree. It was complete. Y/N’s first Christmas with Erik was going to be special. It was her first time in a big ass house too. Just wait until her family comes over tomorrow evening for dinner.

“Aight, so I need your opinion.”

Y/N turns around to face her husband. He was wearing a Santa Clause onesie with the front zipped down to just about his crotch, the Santa hat tilted on his head showing a sprinkle of his dreads. He looked like a Christmas treat forreal.

“You putting Saint Nick ass to shame!”

Erik starts to pose, dipping low like he was in a prison photo. She giggles, wishing she had her phone. Y/N walks up to her man, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her nose couldn’t miss the smell of the gingerbread body butter that she made especially for him.

“You smell just like a cookie,” she pressed her nose into his solid chest.

“And so do you,” Erik was referring to the sugar cookie body butter on her skin, “Where is your sexy Mrs. Clause outfit?!”

“It’s supposed to be for tomorrow so we could do our Christmas role play not tonight! That’s why I wore this,” Y/N shows Erik her fitted pajama onesie with candy canes and hot cocoa mugs on it. She had a cute butt flap on it too and her toes were covered. It was fucking adorable.

“Damn, I was just gonna wrap my dick in a bow and carry a can of whipped cream.”

“I mean,” we can do that too.” She wagged her eye brows at him.

“So, should I take this off?”

“No! Keep this on tonight, and do the other thing with the bow tomorrow.”

“You just wanna unwrap this dick.” Erik laughs.

“I mean, it is a gift; a blessing,” Y/N drags Erik towards the steps, “now lets go! We gotta make some caramel hot cocoa and watch Polar Express!”

“Big ass kid.” Erik jokes.

“Says the guy who recorded Rudolph The Red Nose Rain Deer to watch.”

Finally downstairs, they both make it to the large chef kitchen, Y/N’s early Christmas gift ; a mixer for baking, sitting right on the counter with a gold bow. She still had the “12 days of Christmas” suprise Erik planned. Y/N was being nosy and she discovered that her first gift was going to be an all white Jeep with a big pretty red bow. His early gift was a rather expensive set of weaponry that included chrome gold guns and daggers. He was so damn hype about that.

Erik gets the heavy cream from the fridge plus the whipped cream. Y/N grabs the jumbo marshmallows from the cupboard and the hot cocoa mix with caramel drizzle. Erik was at the stove now, pouring the heavy cream into the pot to heat. Y/N grabbed two mugs; one Harry Potter and the other with a mistletoe. She was using the Harry Potter one. She takes the caramel drizzle, squirting some all over the bottom of the cups.

“Yeah, don’t be shy with the caramel, girl.”

Erik was in the middle of stirring the heavy cream, not even noticing Y/N sneaking up on him from behind. She placed a little bit of caramel on her finger before rubbing it onto his cheek. She squeals from him grabbing her hand, pulling her towards him and rubbing his cheek against hers so she could have some too.

“Eek! Erik, Stop!”

“I know you ain’t telling me stop when you started with me first!”

Y/N rubbed her sticky cheek. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“I will bite that tongue.” He warns.

“Don’t let the milk burn.”

He rushed over to the stove, turning it off. Y/N brought the mugs over, applying the cocoa to the cups before Erik poured in the hot milk. Once that was finished, she grabbed two soup spoons to stir it in. Erik popped a marshmallow in his mouth before adding four each to their mugs and whipped cream. Finally finished, Y/N picks up the hazelnut nut wafer sticks, her and Erik leaving the kitchen to settle in their cozy living room to watch Polar Express.

“I’m actually pretty fucking happy I moved to NYC with you. I never experienced a white Christmas before.” They had the curtains open, snow sprinkling the ground but not exactly sticking to the streets, making it a slush.

“Laying that salt down is a pain though,” Erik pulled Y/N into him. She leaned her head against his chest.

“Just be happy that you already did the shit now our side walk and drive through is clear.”

Erik pressed play on their movie. The music still played in the background; it was TLC- Sleigh Ride.

Even though they both were supposed to be paying attention to the movie, Erik couldn’t help but watch Y/N drink her hot cocoa, wide eyes like a kid at Christmas time, and a foam mustache. Erik takes his finger, dragging it across her upper lip to clean it up before licking it off his fingers. She didn’t budge, eyes glued to the TV.

“Are you watching?” She asked to make sure. They were 30 minutes in.

“Stop asking me.” Erik secretly tries to yawn but Y/N felt his chest move.

“You always get fussy when I ask if you’re sleep. Stop falling asleep on me all the time and I won’t ask.”

“Can’t make any promises,” His eyes lids dropped a little. Y/N grabs her phone, seeing a message from her mom:

MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄🎁

“Babe!!”

She hops on Erik, straddling him now. Y/N bounces on Erik’s lap, saying “Babe! Babe!” Over and over.

“What, woman?!!!”

“It’s Christmas Day!” She places sticky kisses on his face, “our first Christmas together, bae!”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”

Erik proposed to her so early they didn’t get a chance to experience other Christmas holidays before. He just knew Y/N was the one.

“That dry ass response.”

“Aight, ITS OUR FIRST FUCKING CHRISTMAS TOGETHER !!!!”

Erik picks her up, spinning her around. She giggled and squealed.

“HOLY SHIT! OUR FIRST FUCKING CHRISTMAS AS A MARRIED COUPLE! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT SHIT, Y/N?!!”

“Alright, now you’re yelling in my ear.”

Erik puts her down, wrapping his large arms around her waist.

“Too bad that mistletoe isn’t over here. But fuck it, you taste so sweet.”

Both of their sugary tongues swirled in each other’s mouths.

“Babe,” she pulled away with kiss swollen lips, “I’m nervous.”

“Why?” His face was aglow from the Christmas lights.

“You’re gonna meet the rest of my family tomorrow since we didn’t have an actual wedding...”

“I don’t regret eloping with you. I’m fucking glad we drove to Vegas to get married and have a crazy ass weekend that I can vaguely remember.”

“Partying with fake Michael Jackson and playing poker,” Y/N smiled with her arms around his neck.

“Stripper pole in the shower...” Erik had his lips on her neck placing small kisses there.

“Mmm, how could I forget that...”

They kiss again, more passionately this time. She was reminded again why she fell in love with him. It was the first kiss all over again.

Santa, baby” Y/N whispers in Erik’s ear.

“Wassup, baby girl?”

“Can Santa fuck me in that new walk-in closet like he said he would? You got the mirrors installed I wanna watch you dick me down...”

“Fuck,” He picks her up, Y/N wrapping her legs around him, “Put that sexy red lingerie on and get the white cuffs.”

[griffinsandpeacocks]

When You Dress To Impress (Dress, Taylor Swift)

Hades had been looking for the proper outfit for ages. He and Adam had become a thing a while ago. After the man had helped him settle into the hidden magical pocket of Auradon. It’s much less lively than what he’s used to but he’d deal with it so long as he could keep Mal and the other kids safe away from those cretins that dared call themselves parents. well except Jafar who had agreed to cut all ties so long as he had a solid way to keep Jay both out of the crime world as well as cared for. Hades had helped the man find a job in his firm as an administrator. So long as Jafar managed the flow of work and didn’t do anything that would harm the firm on purpose, Jafar could live in Auradon and not have to worry so much for Jay nor their safety. 

(I am using these two images as references and found them by looking through google for black and blue dresses. Basically imagine a slightly fancier version of the above dress with the drape that is shown in the below image, the drape extends to match the length of the dress, just a heads up.)

Now he’s staring at the dress he’d hidden away in a random room of the mansion he’d gotten thanks to Adam’s meddling. It was a gorgeous house and thankfully had plenty of room. After all, he’d taken custody, even if temporary of Uma, Carlos, Evie, Harry, Gil, and several others. He was happy enough Mal and them had friends or at least others who had similar backgrounds so that they could help each other. The dress was black and faded down to blue in an ombre effect around his knees, it went over one shoulder that then had a drape that ran down the back of that side, the back a cross of strips of black that buckled. The buckles were grey steel clasps done to look like his skull in his mark. The shoulder that drapes down had a similar fastening done up like his full mark flames and skull and was what buckled that shoulder together. Of course there’s blue gems glittering around the skulls to give the impression of fire and they glitter through the full length of it giving a fiery effect. 

He’s grinning as he turns and sees Harry peeking in the door. He cock a hip and tilts his head as the young boys eyes go wide at getting caught and he goes bright pink and coughs. He looks away and then up at Hades and steps in glancing behind him nervously. This is actually rather unusual for Harry and Hades frowns in worry.

“Is everything alright, Harry?” He asks and Harry nods rubbing the back of his neck with the magically restored hand Fairy Godmother had helped make. After Hades explained the reason he was asking for such a thing, given James Hook had almost ripped the dame thing apart with a meat hook, Harry had had to have it amputated and Hades wanted to give the kid as close to a working one as he could get, naturally Fairy Godmother had been appalled and agreed to help having enchanted some gems Hades had summoned and made them into a synthetic hand as close as they’d get to the real thing without using any darker magic. She even came by and would check on all the kids as Hades had told her he’d taken custody of quite the herd after taking full custody of his own daughter he’d just been unable to leave the other kids she’d known in that kind of life. Harry was still getting used to it though the number of jokes on how much it’d fetch in a black market deal had thankfully gone down. 

“I... Um... I’ve seen you go out a few times dressed up and well... Could... Could you show me how to do it?” Harry asks staring down at the floor blushing and Hades paused blinking at the young man and he smiles. He’d rarely seen any other men in the magical society express interest in cross dressing, mostly they were all prim and proper and few cared to deviate out of normal expectation. He walks up to the young man and pats his shoulders.

“I can, come on, we’ll go to my dress up room, this is just storage for that so Adam won’t catch a glimpse until out date.” Hades waves and Harry bounces on his feet grinning and looking up at Hades excited he follows the man and Hades is chuckling. 

“To be honest you’ve got a lot of the make up down already given the way you do the eyeliner for your pirate set up that you Uma and Gil share. So I’ll run through basics and if you want a few more pointers we can go from there.” Hades says as he opens the door to a room with some hair accessories so he can pull back his hair having let it grow out again as he spent less time in the non magical human areas and he no longer needed to be fully ‘professional’.

“Alright... Hmm... There’s a gypsy styled dress I have... I wonder if Evie can help either change out the blue for a dark red or if she knows how to just use her magic to change the color...? Oh well at the least let’s see if we can get it to fit on you...” Hades says smirking as he gets to play dress up. Harry get’s a brief run through of some etiquette of tucking and what not and Hades is absolutely ecstatic at the thought of a shopping trip he could go out on and drag Harry along with him, maybe even Evie too come to think of it. She enjoyed shopping, especially when it was to dress someone up. 

“So just go try this on and come back out?” Harry asks and Hades nods gesturing him to the small room that was more a walk in closet and Harry goes coming back out a while later asking for some help with the corset lacing. Hades helps lace them back up and steps back grinning as he bounced on his heels. It looks a bit much for Harry but with some adjustments from Evie it would look astounding on the young man. 

“Yep, change the color scheme up and make some adjustments and this’ll look astonishing!” Hades says vibrating and Harry does a bit of a turn looking a bit uncertain of himself.

“You think?” He asks and Hades nods.

“I mean we can change it to red, which would suit you much better as your skins a bit darker than mine... And we can have a few things changed up and even altered like a gap along that side to show some leg and give you a bit more movement... Make this part a bit less and possibly grey or keep it black... Less a wrap and more a sash... Hmm...” Hades leans back cataloging what he should ask Evie for then decides to call Mal.

“Hey honey, Evie with you?” He asks and Harry goes bright red looking at him with dread and he winks. 

“Yeah...” Mal says and Hades beams.

“Could you spare her a moment, I want to make some alterations to my gypsy dress... I’m thinking of swapping the blue for red and cutting up that sash and the skirt a bit give some leg room.” He says and Mal snorts and asks Evie if she can go help her Dad with his dress and Evie squeals with joy and runs out of the room.

“She is inbound...” Mal says sounding unimpressed and Hades grins.

“Thank you honey!” He says and the call ends. He looks at Harry and smiles.

“Evie does a lot of my alterations, this isn’t going to startle her too much. She’s seen me in a majority of my dresses.” He says happily and Harry relaxes somewhat. Evie pops in roughly three minutes and paused blinking at Harry a moment and narrowing her eyes as if it was an affront to all things fashion. 

“I’m fixing this. Now.” She says snapping her fingers and grabbing Harry and dragging him back into the dressing room. Hades waits doing the make up to soften out his features and placing the smoky eye shadow on and adding hints of glitter that flickers blue and white over it before allying a soft lipstick and smirking as he pulls up his hair into a top knot letting the tail hang down and highlight the change from off white pale blue to a fiery blue towards the end. He turns and watches Evie pull Harry out, the sash has been trimmed up the colors somehow changed, Hades swears the girl uses magic, so that the sash is now a deep brown, as well as only being a single short layer rather than the ruffled shift it had been before. The base skirt has become a deep crimson red, and the blouse like part has been changed to black, while the strings of twine at the elbow and wrist are now white. There’s a cut showing some leg as well in the skirt with some ruffle lining it in black, while the corset has been changed to be red and tie with silvery white laces. 

(The above is the original example before it’s altered by Evie to reflect more for Harry rather than Hades. Take away some of the wrap into a single layer of dark brown more like a wrap and a slightly shorter skirt piece with a cut lined in ruffle for some leg. Making it look less like a gypsy costume and more pirate-y. I found this on Pintrest, though you can also see it in Google images.)

“That actually looks grand... Much better than what I though it would and of course it must be to your own alterations, Evie, but this is beautiful... Well done.” He praises and both kids blush happily Evie smirking in self assured victory and Harry looking as happy as a clam. Hades checks the time and winced he stands and quickly rushes to the room grabbing the dress he comes back and dresses up checking it all fits proper and showing Harry a more full run down and then asks Evie if she could help Harry with make up ideas and tutorials as his date with Adam was in a couple minutes and he needed to get ready and out the door. 

“Unless you’re feeling done for the day, Harry, you can always run away if you feel overwhelmed.” Hades assures pulling on some knee high stockings that have garters to clip to and then sliding on the simple black heels that clip at the ankle. Harry shakes his head smiling and Hades smiles back wishes the two the best and walks down as he’d placing in a sapphire stud into each ear as Adam opens the door to the foyer about to call out frowning as he looks for Hades. 

“Oh... You look stunning...” Adam says blushing as he takes in the effort Hades has put into passing as a lovely gothic lady rather than his typical professional gothic masculine self. Hades comes up to the man and pecks him on the lips. 

“So you like it? I worried I’d done a bit much.” Hades admits not having wanted to over accentuate and look gaudy. Adam gives him a deeper kiss and pulls back smiling.

“Never, come on or we’ll be late. He chuckles and Hades hooks his arm around Adams and they go out to the party. Hades loves the fact so few recognize him at first glance. Most don’t recognize him at all and he has fun dancing with Adam everyone not aware of who exactly he was and his standing with Adam as he has the man all to himself. He’s practically glowing in the golden happy light Adam has brought into his life. He’s certainly left a mark at least and a golden tattoo has formed around his heart in the shape of a rose. He’d gotten the dress solely for the idea of Adam taking it off, and he can’t wait for them to get home already though they’ve barely arrived. Royal parties were always so boring. 

Then again no mater how much wine he drinks the only thing getting him drunk are the kisses they snag in secret from everyone else. The party goes by Hades slowly loosing himself to the need to fly out of the crowd and back home. The chatter and social games are wearing on him. He’d much rather have Adam taking this dress off rather than how well he pulled it off. Eventually they do trip back. Hades feels the world stop as Adam keeps their eyes locked that bright shine in his eyes and Hades smirks and teases.

“Hades.” Adam growls and the god skips off grinning behind him and gesturing him to follow. Adam takes a deep breath as his hands shake but he checks his excitement and restrains his pinning just a bit longer.

“I bought this so you could take it off, hurry up already.” Hades says over his shoulder as he heads up the stairs. Slipping down the hall as Adam quickly follows behind. 

Meanwhile Harry slipped into the room Carlos currently has at the house.

“Hey, pretty boy, I was hopping you’d be interested in a date.” Harry says and Carlos is frozen blinking at Harry in silent shock. He looks good and thesmaller boy swallows mouth feeling dry as his cheeks flare into a blush. Harry actually looks really good...

“Ah, yeah... Um... You look... Good.” He says still mildly shocked and Harry saunters up and Harry watches those eyes trace the sway of his hips and smirks as he leans in and traps the other against his bed.

“Well then, I’ll see you then. Unless you’d like to help me get this off?” Harry asks and Carlos doesn’t take a moment to think about it.

“Please?” And Harry chuckles and gives him a kiss. Carlos was the one that kept him steady even when he was nose diving and Uma wasn’t there to tell him to keep his lid. He’d adored how much the scardy cat cared. Now he’s finally getting him exactly how he wants and his hands shake from not touching him. The fact Carlos wasn’t flinching back was a sweet relief. Carlos can’t believe it but let’s the kisses he’s getting distract him and he quickly get’s drunk of the feeling.