#i took some time out to write this instead of stakeout fic

[baronessblixen]

Hi ! The doodle art you reblogged with Mulder kissing Scully is so perfect ! Do you think you could write a fic about this ?

I'm not entirely sure but I think the art is THIS POST. It took a life of its own anyway. It's a fluffy post-ep for "Chimera".

Fictober Day 28 | Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022 | Wc: 1,088

Yes, Honey

Mulder unlocks the door to Scully’s apartment, stepping inside with a huge smile. It falls away when he realizes that Scully isn’t standing there waiting for him. For some reason he expected her to be as excited to see him as he is to see her. Instead, there’s only quiet and no Scully. Maybe he should have called her first, reminding her that he had plans to come over once he was back in town.

“Honey, I’m home,” he says, taking off his coat. That must get a reaction out of her. The words sound wrong even to his own ears. He’s made the joke once before. But that was before they were a couple. It reminds him of the domesticity he briefly tasted in Vermont during the Adderly case. It clings to him like day’s old aftershave.

“Scully?” He asks, this time with worry in his voice. She wouldn’t have gone out, knowing he was coming over. Would she? He doesn’t even take off his shoes as he walks through her apartment. She’s not in the kitchen, the living room, or the bathroom. That leaves her bedroom. It’s only late afternoon – she can’t be asleep, can she? The door is ajar and Mulder pushes it open, a smile breaking out on his face.

There she is. She’s in her bed, sleeping diagonally with a book by her side to keep her company.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Mulder whispers, touching her shoulder gently.

“Hmm, let me sleep,” she mumbles, only half-awake.

“You’re not at all happy to see me?”

“You left me alone on that stakeout,” she says, peeking at him with sleepy eyes. “I had to take two showers, Mulder. Two.”

“I’m sad I missed both of them.”

“It was cold and it was lonely,” she complains and Mulder can’t help but smile at her. She must have put her hair up in a bun after her shower, but a strand has rebelliously snuck out. He tucks it behind her ear, happiness flooding him.

When Ellen asked him about his significant other, he considered telling her about Scully. What difference would it have made? He does have someone. He has Scully. But what she is to him can’t be compromised into two little words or a simple definition.

“The showers were cold and lonely?”

“The stakeout, Mulder.” She crawls out from under the covers, stretching. She yawns and Mulder watches her, amazed that he gets to be here with her. There was no question where he was going to go after landing. And not just because he left his coat with her. Though that makes it the perfect excuse. If she’s going to throw him out, he can just pretend he came for his coat. The way she’s smiling at him, though, he thinks he’s going to get lucky tonight. In more ways than one.

“I missed you,” he admits. “On the case. Working without you is… it’s not the same.”

“Did anything happen?” She asks him.

“Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know,” she says, touching his face. “You look… different.”

“I leave you for a couple of days and you no longer recognize me.” She playfully rolls her eyes at him while her finger journeys over his face, following its contours. “It’s me, Scully.”

“I know it’s you,” she says. “I may have missed you too.” He loves this new version of Scully. It must have always been hidden underneath her suits and her fierceness. Every once in a while, he got glimpses of it. Now he gets the whole thing. A new side of Scully he can’t get enough of.

“Not as much as I missed you.”

“Didn’t know it was a contest,” she says, pinching his nose. He laughs at her and he can no longer just sit here with his hands by his side. He has to kiss her. So he leans forward and does precisely that. She’s as hungry for him as he is for her. She’s pulling him towards her by his sweater and just as he’s about to lie on top of her, she pushes him away.

“What?” He asks, confusion written all over his face. He wipes his mouth, staring at her.

“Why are you still wearing shoes?”

“How did you even notice that? I was worried when I didn’t see you and forgot to take them off,” he says, grumbling. Cockblocked by his own shoes. While he takes them off, Scully gets up from the bed and he groans in frustration. So much for their making-out session.

“I fell asleep,” she said. “Have you eaten? I haven’t eaten yet. How about pizza? What do you wanna eat?” She asks him, watching him with her hands on her hips. She’s wearing casual clothes, his favorite outfit on her. Unless she’s not wearing anything. That will always trump everything.

“You,” he says with a grin, reaching for her. She squeals as he pulls her to him. She crashes into his chest, and both of them laugh.

“I’d like something substantial first.”

“You are substantial to me,” he says, proving his point by holding her face, kissing her everywhere he can reach. Her forehead, her cheek, an ear. He wants all of her. She smells like her shampoo and tastes like herself. He can’t get enough of her. He’s been craving her ever since their first kiss.

He bites gently into her nose, making her giggle harder. The corner of her mouth and she stills in his arms. He can feel her smile against his own lips; taste it, too. He kisses it right off of her, making her moan into his mouth. What Ellen said to him rings through his mind as Scully tugs on his shirt, her hands searching for skin she can touch. This is what he wants. She is a refuge for him. Just as she hopes he’s the same for her. Whether they have the classic, standard run-of-the-mill marriage or not. It’s them.

“You’re thinking too much,” Scully says, teasing his lips with her tongue.

“That’s not something you accuse me of very often, Scully.”

“You owe me dinner, Mulder,” she says, continuing to chase his mouth.

“Anything you want,” he says. Yes, honey, is what he thinks.

“Right now,” she says, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I want you.”

“What happened to substantial food?”

“Later,” she says, shutting him up with her mouth. “You whetted my appetite. And you owe me this, too.”

Yes, honey, he thinks again, gladly letting her have her way with him.

[literaphobe]

but they were never you

here’s a big steaming pile of Depression™ (jk its not that sad) part 1 out of maybe two, hopefully just two i don’t want to be TOO extra hahaha *sweats nervously* read on ao3

Gina Linetti is good at everything, great at modesty, and the best at being an idiot with her feelings.

As it turns out, so is Rosa.

“You know, in another lifetime, you and I would have made a hot ass couple.”

“Agreed.”

She means those words. Or, well, word. Summed up very curtly, just as much of a throwaway remark as Gina’s was. It’s a logical conclusion to make; after all, why wouldn’t the two most formidable people in the squad make one hell of a pairing?

And, as so eloquently put by Gina’s silver tongue, what a hot ass pair they would make indeed.

It’s such a pity Gina Linetti’s straight. Or well, not into girls. Or well, not into Rosa. Rosa’s not sure, and Rosa sure as hell isn’t asking—especially not now, seeing how the auburn haired girl one could only dream of having has a child with a man she’s in a committed relationship with (as people normally are when they have a kid together).

What’s an even bigger pity is how Rosa’s heart twists itself apart at the hypothetical phrasing she uses, the way the idea of them has never even been considered in this lifetime. Not that Rosa hasn’t considered it, though. She has. One too many times.

Quite pathetic, actually, is a way to describe Rosa, and the way she secretly pines after Gina. She’s not like, madly in love with her or anything. Gina has just always been a consideration of hers. A person that she got along well with, well enough that Rosa would have dated her if she could. Someone she just knows in her gut she’d be great together with.

But yeah, as said, she’s not madly in love with her or anything. And when her soul broke into shards when Gina was hit by that bus all those months ago? That wasn’t love—okay, that was love, but that wasn’t romantic love.

Never mind that it was Rosa and only Rosa who threw herself into her work, unhealthily affecting her personal life. Never mind that it was Rosa and only Rosa who had to leave the room when the squad first went to visit Gina in the hospital after her accident. Never mind that it was Rosa and only Rosa who hid in a bathroom and had a panic attack because seeing Gina lying unconscious in a hospital bed was too much to handle.

So yeah, she happens to have a bit of a soft spot for Gina. But who wouldn’t? After all, she herself once said “It’s only normal for the people in my life to drown in the arms of depression whenever something bad happens to me–“

She then went on to talk about how that was why everyone just had to donate to her PayPal to fix the spandex of her performing outfit. But context isn’t important, especially with regards to most things Gina says.

So yeah, she’s not in love with Gina, but deep down Rosa sees her as a missed opportunity that was never hers to take. But the fact that she’s even having these thoughts at all is rather pathetic, as stated. Shameful, really. Because she’s seeing someone, and she’s happy, she truly is, and it’s going great—so there’s no reason for Rosa to be thinking about Gina at all.

Two months later, she breaks up with Tiffany.

No, it’s not at all prompted by Gina and Milton breaking up. Of course not. Why would it be? Tiffany and Rosa just had irreconcilable differences that they were unable to get over.

And by that Rosa means she bought tomato soup and drank the entire bowl. For the second (2) time in their relationship. And as Rosa watched her slurp her supper, she couldn’t help but think about how Gina would have the exact same disturbed expression on her face if she had been there with her.

But no, of course, Gina Linetti has nothing to do with why yet another relationship of hers has fizzled.

“Come on, what’s your girlfriend’s real name?”

“I told you, it’s Tiffany.” Rosa spins the Twister wheel. “Right hand blue, Boyle.”

“But that’s the fake name you gave us! Tiffany doesn’t even sound like a real name!”

“Ugh,” Gina shrugs, sprawling over Rosa’s couch like she owns it, and Rosa hates to think about how Gina doesn’t look at all out of place in her apartment. How she seems to perfectly belong. “It’s not like she’ll tell us. Let’s just call her Becky.”

That time, strangely, Rosa wasn’t lying. Her (then) girlfriend, really was named Tiffany. Although to be fair, Rosa had lied about how “Tiffany” was a fake name she made up so that the squad wouldn’t look her up. Thinking that her girlfriend’s actual name was a fake one would guarantee no one looking her up at all.

Really, the one person Rosa truly meant to lie to about her girlfriend’s identity was Gina. Sure, she might not have done it on account of the fact that Rosa was dating a girl, but Gina had a habit of looking up guys she was dating and making fun of them, especially in terms of how they were unsuited for Rosa. It was something that would irk her, because Gina was most often right.

So yes, Rosa’s lied to Gina numerous times to escape some “fun” truth bombs about people she’s dating. Rosa’s also lied to Gina for many other unrelated reasons.

The first time Rosa Diaz lied to Gina Linetti? That was in the summer of 2009, on Gina’s first day at the Nine-Nine.

Rosa remembers escaping to the roof one morning, in an attempt to escape Amy’s forty hour speech about how Captain McGintley could improve things in the police station, how he could do a better job of running the precinct. And whether the contents of Amy’s speech would actually last forty hours was irrelevant, because as much as Rosa cared about her fellow detective, it would have felt like forty hours to her.

She’s on the roof for like a minute when she hears footsteps behind her, approaching, and she sighs because Amy probably found her and is about to chew her out, or someone saw her sneak away and is about to chew her out.

Either way, not good.

“Look, I just needed a little break. Sometimes work can be hard to handle.”

“Cool. I’m just here because I was following a hot girl to the roof.”

Rosa’s heart nearly skips a beat. Both because of the unfamiliarity of the voice and also because of the unexpected compliment.

“Uh, what–“

“And don’t you dare think that I don’t know you’re here only because you were trying to escape that pantsuit lady. I don’t blame you though. I came up here because I was afraid she’d target me next.”

Rosa crosses her arms and a smirk rises up her face. “I thought you came up here because you were following a hot girl.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Diaz. You’re not my type.”

“You’re not my type either.” That’s it. That’s the lie. “Why do you know my name and not Amy’s?”

“Your desk is across from mine. I just had to turn my head right a little,” she smiles. “As for Amy, well. I only know her so far as the lady who wears nerdy pantsuits that my boy Jake badly wants to bang for some reason. He hasn’t admitted it, but boy wants it bad. I guess if you remove all the nerd she has a somewhat bone-able feel to her. Still not my type though.”

“Is anything your type?”

“Hmm, you seem oddly interested. Why is that, Rosa?”

Rosa rolls her eyes, because she’s not sure if this girl is into girls or if she’s just a straight girl who loves to mess with women like her. “Trust me, hard pass.”

“I never offered myself up in the first place.”

“Whatever,” Rosa scoffs. “How do you know Jake?”

“We grew up together, he just got me a job here. Say hello to your new and improved Civilian Administrator. Whatever that is.”

Somehow, Rosa has a sinking feeling that Gina isn’t going to be great at her job. Yet, she never wants this girl to leave, for some reason.

“Jake didn’t mention you.” To be fair, however, Rosa doesn’t keep track of what Jake says very often. Maybe Amy remembers.

“Well, I guess he’s dead to me now. He probably spends all his time here flirting with the pantsuit warrior. What do you think their fate is? Will they give into their desires and do the nasty for a night? Will things end badly and result in sweet Amy leaving our precinct in tears?”

“I think Jake’s more likely to be the one in tears if things end badly.”

Gina cracks up, and Rosa finds herself chortling along too, simply because of how addictive Gina’s giggles are.

“I like that, you’re absolutely right,” Gina continues. “You can stay.”

“Stay? Stay where?”

“In this precinct. As a detective. You can keep your job.”

Rosa raises her eyebrow. “That’s not up to you to determine.”

“Sure it is.”

Gina Linetti walks away, and for some strange reason, Rosa Diaz decides to follow. No, she’s not interested in Gina at all, doesn’t want to hang out with her more at all. Her stomach is free, from any sort of butterflies, that’s for sure.

And over the years, Rosa definitely, definitely, does not develop any feelings for Gina Linetti.

“Well you’re in luck, because I have the perfect girl for you, and I’m actually texting with her right now.”

Rosa almost sighs with a dread so powerful it would’ve cut through the floor, through all the levels of the precinct. She already doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t care what legendary, powerful, fantastically gorgeous woman Gina might want to set her up with.

The one she wants is already sitting across from her.

Rosa regrets the day Gina first set her up with someone. She regrets the actions, chain of events that led up to it. And most of all, she regrets saying yes.

“Great bathroom,” Gina remarks as she steps out. The games are dwindling down, and one by one, everyone leaves. “Just realized I haven’t been to your new place until today. A pity.

“That’s because I don’t let anyone come over. But thanks, I put a lot of thought into this bathroom. I had a feeling you’d like it.”

“Hmm. It’s good... but I think I like ours better,” she winks.

And Rosa swears, in that moment , she has to ignore the skip of a beat in her heart.

She holds back Gina’s hair, those practically immaculate curls, gently patting her back as she hurls. Gina grips onto the toilet seat for dear life, whilst Rosa’s practically kneeling on the floor as she takes care of her. It’s a relief Rosa decided to take them here instead of the ladies room, AKA the one all the other women use that’s very very disgusting.

Maybe Gina’s too drunk to remember any of this, so it won’t matter that Rosa brought her here, and she’ll still be the only one who knows about the secret bathroom, like she intended.

“Okay, I think I’m better,” she quakes, slowly getting up to head for the sink, which prompts Rosa to move away from her and flush the toilet as Gina washes her mouth out.

When she’s done, Gina seems much better than how she had been at the rave, which was, well, a state that Rosa won’t get into out of respect for Gina. She continues to look a little off and under the weather, but starts looking around the bathroom whilst Rosa sprays some air freshener.

“You know what this place could use?” Gina wonders out loud. “A bed.”

“This is a bathroom, Gina,” Rosa reminds, hoping that this is a sign of delirium that will lead to Gina recalling nothing tomorrow.

“Fine, a couple of throw cushions then. Wait—no, a carpet! A carpet’s more important. We need a rug made out of wolf fur. And maybe some weird crystals in a vase made out of glass...”

She begins pacing around the room and making all sorts of very specific suggestions; Rosa no longer thinks that she’s going to forget any of this. Both herself and Gina.

Somehow, after they leave Babylon (this name was Gina’s idea) together, trading ideas to spruce the bathroom up back and forth, Rosa finds that she’s okay with Gina knowing about her secret bathroom.

Because it’s their secret bathroom now.

“Hey,” Rosa walks up to Gina’s desk, roughly three hours after their last secret trip to Bed, Bath, and Beyond. They’ve made numerous trips there, and each trip has been nothing short of hilarious, flirty fun. There’s been lingering touches here and there, and Rosa’s been on the receiving end of most of them. She knows there’s something there, knows that she hasn’t been imagining things. Gina makes her heart race in highly embarrassing ways she’s never experienced with such intensity before. She never feels more alive than when she’s with this woman.

And that’s why Rosa’s about to tell Gina where they’re going on their first date.

“Oh, you’re here, perfect–“ Gina interrupts, looking away from her phone and then locking eyes with Rosa, which is fine with her because she’s not in a rush. Their date won’t start for several hours. “I wanted to talk to you.”

The glee surrounding Gina’s entire demeanor brings a smile to Rosa’s face. This girl is so cute, cuter than she gets credit for, with more charms than one could count. Perhaps she’s about to beat Rosa to the chase and ask her out on a date.

“I want you to meet my friend Justin! Girl, before you say anything, my dude is perfect for you. He’s a tattoo artist, he owns a motorcycle–“

“Wait.” Rosa’s gut feels punched. “Are you... are you setting me up on a date?”

Gina breaks out into a brilliant, yet vaguely questioning grin. “Yeah! It’s the least I could do, since you introduced me to the best part of my life. I never thought I’d be the mother of the most gorgeous bathroom to grace this god damn earth, but here we are.”

Rosa tries not to focus on how Gina basically referred to herself and therefore Rosa as supposed co-parents, albeit over a bathroom. She also tries not to focus on the sound of her heart breaking.

She clears her throat, because not doing so would result in Gina hearing how tortured her voice might sound.

“So... are you game or not?” Gina asks, confusion at Rosa’s lack of a response. “Because Justin’s picking you up at six.”

Rosa swallows hard. She can’t believe how stupid she’s been. Of course Gina wasn’t interested in her like that, of course Gina wasn’t even interested in girls like that. Rosa’s almost glad that this happened, because if she hadn’t been interrupted by Gina she would’ve went on to ask her out on a date like an idiot, gotten laughed at, and shut down. Again, like an idiot. Rejected, for the first time in her life too, which would be a disgrace.

“Sure. Uh, I gotta go, go work on this case now.”

“You do what you gotta.”

Gina goes back on her phone like nothing’s different.

Rosa walks away with tears in her eyes.

Her blind date with Justin goes horribly, with Rosa just straight up telling him it’s not going to work out halfway through their date.

(It’s entirely her fault. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that Justin’s motorbike was a Yamaha, glad that she now had an excuse for the entire date tanking.)

She spends quite a while convincing herself that she doesn’t like Gina Linetti. Because she is a straight girl, and Rosa Diaz does not pine after straight girls. In fact, the very fact that Gina is straight should be off-putting in and of itself. Having a teensy, tiny bout of feelings for Gina was merely a momentary lapse in judgement, a small window of weakness that Gina inadvertently climbed into and nurtured.

She doesn’t like Gina Linetti. Not at all.

It’s even more painful to get set up with Gina’s female friends than it is with her male ones, somehow. Heck, how Gina knows so many lesbians is a mystery to Rosa. She doesn’t know enough queer women herself, which is a pity. Maybe if she had spent more time expanding her gay circle, she wouldn’t be secretly pining after a straight girl.

Her feelings for Gina come and go. Which in this case means that sometimes Rosa can ignore her feelings for Gina, to the point where she can go about her life, have some sparks with other people; she can think about and see Gina without something indescribable bursting inside. She can, on a good day, convince herself that she actually hates Gina Linetti, for some strange reason. On an even better day, she won’t think about Gina altogether.

“This is Trishelle."

It takes all of Rosa’s mustered restraint to keep herself from cringing at the girl’s name. She already hates this, hates that Gina will be leaving right after introducing her friend to Rosa. Rosa can’t believe any of this. Come to think of it, she’s never let anyone set her up on a blind date before. Why she lets Gina Linetti get away with things she’d never let anyone else so much as suggest is beyond her.

(Okay, so it’s not actually beyond her, but it’s something that would be rude of her to think about while she’s on a date.)

The date ends up tanking, especially because a cute bartender who actually knows what a good drink is keeps talking to her, and Rosa ends up tuning out whatever Tremily is saying. Wait, what was her name again?

Anyway, Aubrey (the bartender) turns out to be witty and much better company than Tricole. Who, ends up leaving early because she was feeling tired, and somehow not at all bothered to see Rosa talking to someone who’s not her.

Aubrey closes up the bar, and Rosa goes home with her. She likes Aubrey, she really does. But, like all the other people she’s liked and met after knowing Gina, she has to ignore how her heart pumps less wildly than it would for a certain someone.

Gina slowly rocks a sleeping Iggy in her arms. Her baby hums softly and has the most angelic smile on her face. She’s the light of Gina’s life, which is not something she had expected, but it’s the truth now.

The front door opens and Trishelle walks in.

“How’d the date go?”

“Terribly.”

“Great,” Gina has to force herself not to grit her teeth. “So... she went home with Aubrey?”

“I’m assuming so. They seemed to hit it off, especially when I was talking about skinny margaritas. Seriously, what does she have against that drink?” Trichelle collapses on Gina’s couch with a sigh.

“She’s Rosa Diaz, she’d never consciously admit to liking a cocktail. Or any form of alcohol that’s not in a bottle.” Gina bites her lip after she says this. She doesn’t bite too hard, of course, because no way is she letting anything happen to her full and beautiful mouth.

“Margarita can come in a bottle.”

“Ugh,” Gina groans, rolling her eyes. “No one cares, Trishelle!”

Trishelle swallows her disdain, because she knows that that anger isn’t actually meant for her. “Right. Not the point. Let’s discuss the real issue here: why are you setting Rosa Diaz up with other girls if you’re so clearly in love with her?”

This question drops on Gina like a boulder straight on top of her chest. Her lungs collapse, just for a moment, because she quickly blinks away the pain.

“Because it’s too late for me now,” she says, trying to sound cool and casual, and not like she’s masking the way hundreds of needles are piercing her heart. “She’ll never see me as more than a friend. But... I still want her to be happy.”

[whiskeyncoke-redux]

The Stakeout

Bucky Barnes x Reader

*a/n: I’m reposing some fics here until I write more again.

Summary:  On a stakeout with Bucky you become bored, which causes you to increasingly irritate your partner.

Warnings: Smut 18+ ONLY Minors DNI

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were bored.

It had been four days and the stakeout you were on hadn’t revealed any new information about the target. Being in that cheap motel, day in and day out, was making you fidgety and stir crazy; and in turn you were making your partner crazy.

“Will you please stop pacing around, Y/N?” Bucky asked you for what he was sure was the thousandth time.

“I’m bored, Bucky!” you whined. “Nothing is happening, it’s driving me crazy.”

“Well, shit, Y/N, I can’t make him do anything, we just have to wait it out.”

“Arrghhh,” you groaned, before throwing yourself on the bed.

Bucky looked over at you, rolled his eyes in mild annoyance, then turned back to the monitors where you were supposed to be keeping track of the guy you were watching.

You had been made to go on this mission by Steve after you had gotten hurt on the last one. You had assured him that you were fine to do something more, but he wouldn’t hear of it. It was either this or nothing at all. You had figured that this would be better than nothing, but you had been wrong. This was akin to doing nothing at all.

You also knew that Steve had partnered you with Bucky because he was the only one who could control you when you’d get carried away. The only reason you got hurt on the last mission was because he hadn’t been there.

“You know you could be helping me instead of sulking,” Bucky told you from his seat.

You sat up.

“What’s to help you with? All he does is sit around his room. No one comes and he doesn’t go. That’s it. That’s all he does, that’s all he’s done for four days.”

Bucky sighed. “Well, he’s up to something, why else would we be watching him?”

You just shrugged.

“You know, not all missions are action packed.”

“I know, but I’d rather be doing something,” you argued.

“I get that, but I’d rather be doing this, it’s safer.”

“I suppose,” you mumbled.

“And I figured you would be too, seeing as you got hurt last time.”

“See, why’d you have to bring that up?”

“Because it was reckless and you were trained better. I’d know since I did the training. What were you thinking anyway?”

You turned away from his intense gaze. You hadn’t been thinking, that had been the problem. You saw someone attacking one of your partners and rushed in to help. You were lucky Sam had been there to get you both out of it. You didn’t want to hear this from Bucky. You already had been yelled at by Sam and Steve, but coming from Bucky, who didn’t even have to raise his voice, it felt worse. You didn’t want to let him down, not after everything he’d done for you.

You took out one of your knives and began flipping it in your hand; trying your hardest to not look at him. That just annoyed him more.

He got up and walked over to where you were sitting on the bed, catching the knife before you could.

“Hey!”

“I asked you a question, Y/N. I said ‘what were you thinking?’”

You looked into his eyes and shrank back a bit.

“I wasn’t,” you answered in a small voice.

“That’s obvious.”

You sighed. “I already said I was sorry.”

“Yeah, I know. And that’s why you’re here with me. Getting on my nerves.”

You frowned up at him, making him chuckle at you.

“It’s not funny,” you said.

“It is, kiddo.”

“Don’t call me kiddo, I’ve told you about that.”

“Well don’t act like one and I won’t call you it,” he said walking back to his seat. “Honestly, being on this mission with you is kinda making me miss Sam. Think about that.”

“Jerk,” you muttered.

“I heard that.”

———–

The next two days didn’t fare much better, and you could tell even Bucky was getting irritated.

“What is going on with this guy?” you heard him mumble.

“Absolutely the fuck nothing,” you said from your spot on the bed as you tossed your knife you had snuck back from Bucky in the air over and over again.

“Y/N, stop doing that.”

“Okay, then I’ll just start pacing again.”

You heard him take in a deep breath and let it out. You were pushing him to the point of snapping.

“What is with you anyway?”

“I have way too much energy to be doing nothing,” you told him.

“Well, find something to do,” he argued.

“I am,” you said, tossing your knife again with a smirk on your face.

He hopped up and, once again, caught the knife before you could.

You jumped up. “Give that back!”

“No, you’ve been irritating the hell out of me with this.”

You shrugged. “So, it’s something to do. Now give it back.”

He shook his head. “I took it from you once anyway.”

“Yeah and I took it back, and I will again.”

He smirked. “I’d love to see you try that.”

Frustrated, you shoved him, but that only made him laugh since it barely moved him an inch. You then tried to grab the knife from him, but it only made him laugh harder since he could easily keep it away from your reaching fingers. You felt yourself get more and more frustrated, and you had the feeling you were about to do something rash.

You knew you had to stop yourself. Isn’t that what Bucky had been telling you, stop getting upset and just doing whatever? So, you stopped, took a step back, and sized him up.

Bucky stopped laughing. “What are you doing?”

You didn’t answer right away, instead you made to grab for the knife again. When he moved it out of the way like you knew he would, you feinted and managed to grab his other arm. He didn’t see the trick coming and before he knew it, you had him flat on his back on the bed with your knee on his chest.

He looked up at you in shock. You smirked down at him, as you waved your knife in his face. You got off him and walked away tossing your knife in the air in a taunting way. You heard a grunt, followed by the sound of Bucky getting off the bed. Before you could turn around to defend yourself, he had you pinned against the wall.

“Good trick,” he said.

“You would say so,” your voice came out a little muffled since your face was pressed against the wall. “You taught me it.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed.

“You, uh, you gonna let me go?”

“Nope, get out of it yourself.”

You groaned then a thought came to you. You managed to slip your leg between his. Hooking your foot around one of his you managed to trip him up. Unfortunately that meant you ended up on the floor on top of him.

Before you could move, he managed to roll over and pin you underneath him. You knew you could get out of this easily, so you spread you legs then wrapped them around him and flipped the both of you over.

“Ha, that was too easy,” you said getting off of him.

“I let you win that,” he said.

“Sure you did, old man,” you laughed.

He grunted. “Old ma… okay, I’ll show you old.”

Grabbing you by your hands, he pinned you against the wall again, this time facing him with your wrists in one of his hands above your head. The knife lay forgotten on the floor.

“Don’t forget who taught you all these moves,” he whispered to you.

You looked up in his eyes, and noticed that the normal blue seemed to be darkened with something. You felt yourself shift a bit, not out of fear, but out of want.

You wanted him and, judging from the way he was looking at you, he wanted the same.

“Bucky…”

He heard the want in your voice. He leaned forward and kissed you heatedly. When he heard your moan into the kiss, he let his tongue probe at your lips. You opened your mouth eagerly. You let out a gasp when you felt his free hand slide down your back to grab your ass. And when he smacked it, you let out another, louder moan. He kissed along your neck til he got to your ear.

“Turn around,” he said.

“Let me go first.”

He released your wrists from his vibranium arm and you obediently turned around. You felt his lips attach themselves to your neck again as he pressed against you. One hand sliding up underneath your shirt to fondle your breasts, the other snaking its way into your pants. Once his hand made its way past your panties so that one of his fingers could dip into your wet core, you started grinding back against him.

You felt him getting hard against your ass as he continued to finger you. He let another finger join the one already inside of you, curling them to reach your g-spot. You started grinding against him faster, wanting him to keep going, wanting to cum.

“I’m so close,” you moaned.

When he heard that, he stopped. Removing his lips from your neck, and his hands from your breasts and pussy. Making you whine with need.

“Take all your clothes off, get on the bed, and lay back,” he commanded.

You did as you were told, shedding clothing as you made your way to the bed, laying back. He walked over to you, staring down at your naked body. He knelt on the bed and grabbing a leg in each hand, he spread them apart. Dipping his head between them, he licked up your pussy lips making you tremble. He then slid his tongue inside you, his nose nudging at your clit. You grabbed on to the cover, you back arching off the bed. He placed your legs on his shoulders as he made his way to your clit. He licked at it before taking into his mouth and sucking on it lightly. You almost came undone right then, but he let up to lick around it again. He alternated between sucking and licking, bringing you to the edge, but not letting you let go just yet.

“Bucky, Bucky, please,” you moaned.

“Please what, Y/N?” he asked, taking his mouth away from your pussy.

“Please let me cum,” you begged.

“No,” he said simply.

You groaned. Your feelings going between wanting to punch him and not wanting to upset him so he’d finish.

He kissed you up your stomach to your breasts, all the while his fingers were playing lightly with your clit, not quite bringing you to completion but getting you so close. When he reached your lips, he kissed you deeply, letting his tongue slip in your mouth so you could taste yourself.

You reached down, pulling at his shirt. Getting the hint, he got off the bed and stripped off his shirt. You sat up and began kissing his stomach as he undid his pants. Once he managed to get them down his thighs, you grabbed at his dick. You looked up at him and he nodded.

“Go ahead.”

Climbing off the bed you knelt in front of him. You ran your thumb around the head, then lowered your head, licking up the precum. You heard him hiss above you. You felt his hand rest on the back of your head and you opened your mouth wide, taking as much of him in as you could. You began stroking the rest with one hand as the other rested on his thigh.

Once you got your rhythm, he started moving his hips, fucking himself into your mouth. You kept up with his movements, spit dripping out of the corners of your mouth.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “Letting me fuck your mouth like this. So fucking hot.”

You took your hands and reached around grabbing onto his ass, pushing him in deeper. With a groan he stilled his hips and pulled out of your mouth with a small pop.

“Get on the bed,” he rasped. “On all fours.”

Once you were in position, you felt his hands on your ass as he positioned himself behind you. Then, gripping your hips, he slid inside you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cried out as you felt him stretch you.

Once he bottomed out, he pulled almost all the way out and then slammed into you, his balls slapping your ass. You would have fell over had he not had a hold on your hips.

“Bucky!” you squealed.

He just chuckled.

He started moving inside you slowly at first, then faster as you got used to his size. He reached around you, and pulled you up so your back was against his chest. His hands toyed with your nipples before moving lower to your clit. He started rubbing light circles around it. You moaned louder, you were close again.

“Bucky, I’m gonna cum.”

“No, you’re not,” he told you, taking his hand away and stopping his movements. “Not until I say so, you understand?”

You nodded.

He slapped you on your ass. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” you cried out.

“Yes, what?

“I won’t cum until you say so.”

He nodded. “Good. Now get on the desk,” he said, nodding at the desk on the opposite wall.

You walked over to it and hopped up on it. He walked towards you slowly, dick bobbing as he moved.

Once he got to you, he gripped a leg in each and like before and spread your legs. He slid inside you again and began pumping in and out of you. You managed to wrap your legs around his waist as he rutted against you.

“Fuck you’re so wet, Y/N,” he moaned. “So wet and so tight.”

You dug your nails into his back as you tried to push him in deeper with your legs. Reaching underneath you, he lifted you up and pushed you against the wall, never stopping.

“You wanna cum?” he asked you. “You wanna cum all over my dick?”

“Y-yes,” you cried out. “Please, Bucky, I wanna cum so bad.”

“Cum then,” he grunted, before kissing you sloppily.

It didn’t take much before you felt that coil tighten inside you. You had been so close for so long that, at his words, you felt yourself rising to that peak. With a few strokes you came completely undone. You cried out his name as you came harder than you had ever before.

Bucky kept moving inside you, chasing his own orgasm. Once he felt you flutter around him, he knew he was close.

“Shit, I’m close,” he moaned and he started to pull out.

“No, stay inside me, please.”

Those words sent him crashing over the edge and he came with a loud moan, emptying himself inside you.

“Fuck,” he said, leaning his forehead against yours.

You reached up and caressed his cheek before kissing him softly. He lowered you to the ground, kissing you again. He walked over to the chair that he had occupied earlier, you followed him and he pulled you into his lap.

You looked at the screen.

“Wait what’s he doing?” you asked pointing.

“He’s making a phone call. Hold on,” he said reaching for some headphones. “We got it bugged.”

He handed you some and you slipped them on. Hopefully something was finally about to happen.

You both listened as he placed a call.

“Yes, I’d like to speak to the front desk. Yes, I’ll hold.”

You heard the clerk at the front desk answer.

“Yeah, I just like to report the people next door,” he told the clerk. “What are they doing? They’re having loud sex and it’s bothering me!”

You and Bucky exchanged looks.

“Oops,” was all you could say as Bucky rolled his eyes at you.

[halsteadlover]

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐞

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.

• Requested by anon: Could you write a Jay fic where they are on a stake out and are bored so he’s suggests something to pass the time ✨

• Warnings: just a slight mention of guns.

• Word count: 2271.

• A/N: this is the worst and ugliest thing I've ever written and I don't even know why I'm posting it. To the person that made this request I'm so sorry pls have mercy 😭

You were sitting in the passenger seat, your head resting on the window while you had your gaze fixed on the house and the people passing by, boredom taking over. Being on a stakeout was one of the activities you least liked about being a cop. Being locked in a car for hours to watch someone, without having the chance to go to the bathroom or stretch your bones was really nerve-wracking and that time unfortunately it was your and your partner Jay turn. He was sitting in the driver’s seat, one hand resting on the steering wheel as his fingers drummed on it, the other holding his chin, his elbow resting on the window, looking handsome as always.

“Damn we've been here for four hours, when is the bastard going to get out?” you suddenly blurted out, running your hands through your hair and snorting. Intelligence was working on a murder case of a gang member, Cobras, and at the time the main suspect was the rival gang member, Oliver Romero. Although there was not enough material evidence to arrest him, you all knew it was him, you just had to wait for him to take a misstep in order to catch him. And that’s why Voight ordered you and Jay to follow him wherever he went.

“I wish I knew, I don’t feel my ass anymore” Jay commented, letting out a sigh before taking the box of chips and handing it to you “Do you want some?”

You turned your head towards him “Oh yeah thanks” you replied before grabbing some and starting to eat them. It was now late afternoon and you had been sitting in front of Romero’s house for almost five hours waiting for something to happen, but nothing, he didn’t leave the house even once.

“Still nothing?” you asked after some time.

Jay wiped his hands with a tissue and took out the binoculars so he could take a closer look at the suspect’s house. “Nothing, he just keeps sitting, eating and watching TV.”

“Great.”

“You wanna play a game?” Jay asked suddenly and you gave him a bewildered look.

“What are you ten years old?”.

He chuckled. “C’mon it’s clear that you’re bored to death and so am I. Let’s spend some time.”

He wasn’t all wrong. Everything would’ve been better than just sitting doing nothing. “Fine, what game do you want to play?”

“Truth or dare?” he asked and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Didn’t you think of anything else?”

“Do you have something better in mind?” he asked ironically, looking at you with a raised eyebrow too and to your non-response he continued to speak “As I thought. So… I’ll start. Truth or Dare?”

You thought about it for a second. “Hmm… Truth.”

Jay looked at you with a grin on his lips, as if he expected you to choose that option. “Worst date you’ve ever been to.”

You giggled. “I went out with a guy once who did nothing but talk about his mother all night. Believe me. All. Night. Long. And as if that wasn’t enough, he called her and made me talk to her saying he thought he found the love of his life…”

“This can’t be true” Jay burst out laughing.

“Yeah unfortunately it is… And at the end of the evening he said ‘sorry I forgot my wallet at home, can you pay?’”

“You cannot be serious!” he said between laughter.

“What can I say… I’ve never been sentimentally lucky” you shrugged, shivering at the memory of that horrible date “Your turn… Truth or Dare?”

Jay didn’t answer right away, continuing to laugh instead.

“Can you stop it?” you asked, your arms crossed over his chest as you tried to suppress a smile at seeing him laugh so heartily. God, the way his face and eyes lit up every time he laughed was something that would always give you butterflies in your stomach.

“I’m sorry I can’t help it… It’s just so funny,” he could hardly say “Okay, okay now I’ll stop… I choose dare.”

“Call a random person and sing them happy birthday”

“C’mon is this the first thing that came to your mind?” he teased you by earning a punch on his arm from you.

“You know I’m not good at these type of game so shut up and make the call.”

Jay took his cell phone from his pocket and clicked on the last number in the call log, which was his brother Will. Needless to say, he thought his brother was totally insane. “Jay are you on drugs?”

“Shut up it’s just a dare. Bye” he responded before hanging up while you were laughing your ass off.

“Have you ever thought about going to America’s got talent?”

“Ah ah so funny,” he said with a smile then taking a bottle of water and taking a sip while in the meantime you continued to guard the house “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Show me the most embarrassing photo or video on your phone.”

“Uh I have too many,” you replied pulling out your cell phone before looking in the gallery “Hey mind your business.” You stated noticing the way Jay was trying to peek.

He threw his hands up. “I didn’t see anything unfortunately, I was hoping for a naked photo of you.”

You laughed and slightly hitting him on the back of his head. “Dream Halstead,” you said “There you go”. You handed him your phone showing him the video of your graduation ceremony when you got up to get the parchment and fell on the stage… In front of the whole school. Yeah, one of the most embarrassing moments of your life.

Jay’s stomach started to ache from laughter, tears in his eyes. “Oh my god… Please send me this.”

“Don’t even think about it”. You snatched the cell phone from his hands, locked the screen and put it back in his pocket. You knew that you would regret the decision to show him that video, knowing that now he would hold you back until the rest of your days.

“Are you done?” you asked with a fake annoyed tone even if in reality you were trying not to laugh “Truth or dare?”

Jay wiped the tears in the corners of his eyes and looked at you, bursting out laughing again at your expression. “I’m so sorry I just can’t stop…” he said running his hands over his face “Oh my god I can’t breath…”

“I'm happy to know that my bad luck entertains you so much.”

“The way you fell…” he gasped for air “You folded like a paper sheet.”

“Can you stop it please, I still haven’t recovered from this trauma,” you said laughing.

Jay kept laughing for literally another five minutes and when he finally managed to stop you said to him again “Are you done?”

He took a deep breath and drank another sip of water. “Yeah I won’t laugh again I promise.”

“It will be better for you. So truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“What’s your biggest fear?”

“So you can use it against me? Don’t even think about it, I’ll never tell you. “

“Oh c’mon what kind of person do you think I am?” you asked in a mock offended tone. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow “Okay fine. Besides I already know it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Spiders.”

“I’m not afraid of spiders!”

“Oh so you don’t remember when you called me and made me come to your house to send one away?”

Jay rolled his eyes and snorted. “It wasn’t that, I just wanted to spend some time with my partner.”

“In the middle of the night?” you asked rhetorically “Jay you were on the verge of a breakdown.”

“Y/LN you promised me you’d never talk about it again!” he exclaimed pointing his finger at you, making you giggle.

“No, I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone not that I would never talk about it again.”

“I hate you, you know that?”

You pinched his cheek. “Nah I know you love me.”

There was a brief moment when you and Jay looked into each other’s eyes, in silence, and it was as if you had forgotten what you were talking about. They way his eyes made always your heart melt was something you were used to by now and you were almost afraid to keep his gaze because of the intensity with which he looked at you, as if he could read inside you and understand how you felt.

His lips lifted in a small smile that made your heart rate increase. “Yeah… I do,” there was another moment of pause as they both looked away from each other. You tried to ignore the way your cheeks were blushing as you looked at Romero’ house.

“It’s your turn Y/LN” Jay said.

“Truth.”

“Tell me your biggest secret.”

You turned your head towards him, noticing that he was already looking at you. “It wouldn’t be my biggest secret anymore if I told you, don’t you think?”

“That’s the rule detective, you have to tell me now.”

How could you tell him that your secret was that you had the biggest crush on him? The word crush was even an understatement, this term did not fully express what you really felt for him. The truth was that you fell in love with your partner but were forced to ignore it and act as if there was nothing but friendship between you. Over time, you and Jay had formed a beautiful and strong bond and the fear that you could ruin it due to your unrequited feelings was always high.

“No…” you were about to say when a movement caught your attention “Jay look.”

It was Oliver Romero and he was walking out of his house, heading to his car. Jay immediately turned on the car and followed him as soon as Romero drove away.

“5021 Peter, we’re following Oliver Romero on Belmont Avenue.”

“Copy 5021 Peter.”

You followed Romero for about ten minutes until he pulled up in front of a house, you and Jay two cars behind him. The neighborhood you were in was the territory of the Vice Lords gang, the same gang that included the murder victim you were investigating.

Needless to say, you and Jay knew why he was there.

After a couple of moments of waiting Romero got out of his car and your suspicion turned out to be true.

“He has a gun!” Jay exclaimed and at that point you immediately rushed out of the car.

“Police drop your weapon!” you shouted pointing the gun at him but Romero started running.

“This is 5021 George we’re chasing an armed suspect, he is running between Nelson and Barry!”

“Police freeze!” you shouted again. Despite your constant warnings the suspect didn’t stop, in fact he continued to run as fast as he could. He turned a corner and you followed him. Jay, who was standing in front of you, put a hand in front of you so he could first check that Romero wasn’t lurking to shoot.

Luckily there was a gate at the end of that road and as he tried to climb over it this allowed you and Jay to reach him and tackle him to the ground.

You had your gun pointed at him while you disarmed him and Jay handcuffed him.

“You’re done son of a bitch.”

Romero confessed everything before he even set foot in the district's interrogation room, which made your job easier and allowed you to successfully close the case.

By the time you finished filing the arrest report it was evening and you were heading to your car to be able to go home when a voice made you stop.

“Y/N wait!”

You recognized that voice right away.

“Halstead” you said stopping in your footsteps and turning to face him.

“Are you going back home?”

“Yes actually, why?”

“You didn’t answer me” he said and a totally confused expression appeared on your face.

“What are you talking about?”

“About your biggest secret.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. You totally forgot about that game. “Oh my God Jay forget about it, it was just a game.”

“You won’t get away from this, you know that right?”

“And you know it’s none of your business right?” you said with an ironic tone, your arms crossed.

“C’mon Y/N that’s the rule and besides I’m your partner, what is it you don’t want to tell me?”

“As I said, it’s none of your business.”

“It will never be that bad right?”

Yes it is.

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to think of something to say to distract him but unfortunately nothing came to your mind. “I have to go Jay, I’m really tired.”

He took a step towards you and that was enough for you to stop breathing. “What’s wrong Y/N?”

“You’re getting on my nerves Halstead, you’re so nosy.”

He let out a chuckle. “But you love me right? Even if I’m nosy.”

You looked down for a few seconds before looking him in the eye again. “I do.”

“So why don’t you tell me your secret? You can trust me, I’m your best friend.”

You let out a heavier snort than you would’ve liked and you rolled your eyes, your patience now gone. “You want to know my biggest secret Jay? Fine,” you stated “I’m in love with you! That’s the secret! Are you happy now?”

Jay didn’t say anything, he just kept looking at you, and at that point your heart broke, knowing that you had ruined your friendship and regretting having said those words.

Your eyes filled with tears but you didn’t want him to see you cry, you didn’t want to give away what little pride you had left. You were ready to leave but Jay grabbed your hand with his, making you stop.

“Hey look at me” he said and when you did, your breath froze again on noticing the closeness between you two.

“Jay you don’t have to say anything…”

“Stop” he interrupted you cupping your face with his hands “I have a dare for you.”

You looked at him as if he lost his mind, not knowing whether to be angry or shocked. You just confessed you were in love with him and he still wanted to play that stupid game?

“Are you serious right now?”

He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs, a smirk on his lips. “I’m always serious.”

Incredulous you tried to get away but he stopped you again.

“Kiss me.”

For an instant you thought you had heard wrong, that your mind was playing some tricks on you. “W-what?”

“I dare you to kiss me.”

You were so in shock that you didn’t know what to do, you just looked at him with wide eyes and slightly wide open mouth.

“So?” he whispered whit a smile on his lips.

“Jay I swear to God if you’re play-…” he didn’t even let you finish saying that sentence that he pressed his mouth on yours. Before you could even think about it, you were already kissing him back. No matter how many times you imagined that moment, the reality of how it made you feel being able to finally kiss him exceeded any kind of expectation.

“I’m not playing, not when it comes to you Y/N,” he whispered, his lips still brushing yours “I just didn’t know if you felt the same way and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship but yeah… I’m in love with you too.”

The smile you gave was one of the most beautiful Jay had ever seen and he felt stupid for not making the first move, for losing so much pining and looking at you from afar, time you could have spent together.

You didn’t say anything else, you were never good with words, instead you carried out his dare, kissing him again.

Click here to be added in the tag list ❤️

Main Masterlist

Jay Halstead Masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

Side blog -> @halsteadloverslibrary

Ask link 💭

[safertokiss]

Lost in Translation

A/N: Heyyyyy guys...remember when I used to post like every two weeks? Yeesh that’s awkward...but I’m backkkkk woooooooo party time! I was so excited that my discord buddies organized another fic swap because it was so much fun the first time. This time around I was chosen to write a doozy for the wonderful @writing-in-april and I have decided to bless you all with a beautiful subby boy. Sub Spencer lives in my head rent free, no cap. So sit back, relax and pretend it's you getting fricken railed. Peace out girl scouts;)

Pairing: SPENCER x READER

Category: SMUT hehe oh yeah and fluff

Word Count: 4.8k

ENJOY:)

~~~

MASTERLIST

~~~

For as long as she could remember, Y/n had always wanted to learn Russian.

So, naturally, when she found out that their newest case involved two lovers who also happened to be Russian criminals trying to escape the United States government, she simply couldn’t help but jump at the opportunity to become more involved in the investigation. 

It’s not that she’d never been on a stakeout for the Bureau before, in fact she’d probably been on so many at this point that she’d lost count. The only difference that this specific stakeout brought to her life was the fact that it was her first one to have ever been shared with Spencer Reid.

Her and the young doctor had lived in the same apartment building since her first day at the BAU, but their relationship pretty much began and ended at that. Of course they greeted each other whenever they passed in the halls of their building and ricocheted off of each other’s theories whenever necessary during their meetings in the round table room, but it would be a lie to label their relationship as anything other than casual acquaintances as well as amicable coworkers. 

She had never been able to fully get a grasp on the elusive Dr. Reid. The fact that he was already such an integral member of the F.B.I. at the ripe age of 25 astounded and, well to be honest, perplexed her. Not that she doubted his abilities or intelligence in any way, quite the opposite really. She admired how utterly brilliant he proved to be day in and day out, even with the shy exterior he presented himself with to the world. Well, shy was definitely more of an understatement. 

She had never met someone more socially awkward in her entire life, but with that being said, she couldn’t help but find it endearing and pretty dang adorable. Y/n constantly found herself enjoying his pathetic attempts at human interaction on a daily basis. From the nervous stutters to the out of this world hand gestures, there was much for her to dissect about the young doctor. And while she could openly admit that he was quite easy on the eyes, in a boyish-innocent kind of way, she had never really been able to see him in that sort of light.

If she thought his normal social interaction skills were entertaining to witness, his reactions to any of the conversations that took a more raunchy turn were to die for. The speed at which his features would ripen red like a tomato whenever anything of a sexual nature was brought up during cases was truly amazing, impressive even. However, unlike the rest of their team, she knew he wasn’t completely innocent. The walls in their apartment were as good as paper when it came to thickness, so it wasn’t that big surprise that the sounds created within them carried fairly well. 

Or at least that was what she had discovered after the first night she heard him touching himself just through her bedroom wall. 

Yes, it was less than ideal that their bedroom walls just happened to be adjacent to each other, but what could she do about it? It wasn’t as though she never sought out her own pleasure while alone in her apartment...although she would bet money that she was much better at withholding her noises. Instead, she learned to adapt to the sounds from next door and continue on with her life, having accepted that guys will in fact be dudes, no matter how innocent and meek they may appear.

When her boss had explained the nature of the assignment to them, there wasn’t anything of significance that had jumped out at her. It was all pretty standard instruction. They would wait, parked, in a government issued SUV overnight at a location close to the whereabouts of the criminals and simply translate their conversations using the mics that were planted prior. While Hotch knew that Y/n herself couldn’t understand Russian, it was common knowledge that the resident genius easily could transcribe the language.

And that was how she found herself cramped next to Spencer Reid in the stagnant vehicle, pen and paper in hand, patiently waiting for the translations to begin. 

It was almost completely silent inside the car, apart from the quiet whirring of the heat coming through the vents, and she could basically feel the nerves coming off of the man next to her in waves. That’s why she was completely thrown off her game when his timid voice was the first to break through the silence that had encompassed the space they inhabited together.

“So um Y/n..h-how have you been recently?”

She did her best to hide the small smirk that started to form on her face from the stuttering mess that spilled out of his mouth. She definitely didn’t want to make him feel even worse about himself so she decided to humour his adorable attempt at conversation with her...well...sort of.

“Oh ya know Reid, just counting the days until I get some action. How about you?” If she  thought he was sputtering nervously before, that was nothing compared to this treasure.

“Oh um well uh I-I mean...I don-I don’t...uh...w-what was the question a-again?”

This time she couldn’t stop the airy chuckle that escaped her lips as she leaned over and patted him gently on his thigh.

“Relax Reid, I’m just fucking around with you. Well for the most part...I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to some action, but that’s a whole can of worms I am not about to open during a stakeout”, Y/n laughed, not at all missing the steadily spreading blush that coated his sharp features.

“Yeah...no..yeah right of course...I t-totally knew you were just um fu-messing with me! Uh we should probably um r-review our assignment...you know just so we’re all s-set before we start.” How adorable.

“Aye-aye captain Reid. Ok so..”, she muttered while fiddling with the listening device to secure the right frequency. “...we just have to wait until they get back so we’re in range of their conversations. That’s when you’ll have your time to shine and prove yourself as the resident genius once again. And I’m sure that you’re aware that I don’t know a lick of the Russian language so I will be the best damn transcriber for you that the world has ever seen”, she finished with a smirk. 

Even Reid chuckled a bit at her words, the ever-present blush slowly creeping back upon his face and neck. 

“I’ll uh-I’ll hold you to that then.” Y/n had to admit she particularly liked to see the boy smiling, especially when it was the result of her own words. His innocence seemed to call out to her like a siren and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Oh-oh there they are! Ok get the pen and paper ready because as soon as they’re in range I’ll start translating.”

Getting themselves situated, they waited the few seconds it took for the couple to get close enough to the vicinity of the SUV for their conversations to begin to be broadcasted through their system.

“Как вы думаете, они идут по нашему следу?”

“Do you think they’re on our trail?”, Spencer easily understands, leaning slightly closer to her so his words were clearly heard.

“Ни за что. У этих глупых американцев нет шансов поймать нас.”

“No way. Those stupid Americans don’t stand a chance at catching us.”

At this point, the couple had already disappeared behind the door at the entrance of their current base, leaving only their words to give the closely listening agents much needed context clues.

“Я когда-нибудь говорил тебе, как сильно мне нравится твоя уверенность?”

“Have I ever told you how much I love your confidence?” 

Even Spencer let himself smile at the chuckle that left Y/n’s lips. “Awww how cute...they’re flirting with each other over mass murder. I strive for that kind of intimacy.”

“Да у тебя есть. Но почему бы тебе не показать мне, насколько тебе это нравится.”

“Yes, you have. But why don’t you show me just how much you love it.”

Uh oh, Y/n thought to herself. Not a second after the untimely thought permeated her brain, the sounds of wet lips sloppily colliding against each other filled the otherwise silent vehicle. After the few seconds of shock wore off, their heads whipped to face each other, eyes wide and mouths wide open. “Huh...well this was certainly an unexpected turn.”

“I uh um-uh well w-what do we do now?”, Tomato Boy nervously sputtered out over the chorus of moans and groans that were currently bouncing off the SUV’s walls. As unexpected as the present situation was, she was absolutely eating up his reaction to the crude sounds.

“Well, Hotch did say he wanted us to take down every single word that was shared between them so...I guess we’re just gonna have to keep moving forward with the translations. You can do that, can’t you Reid?”, she explained, not even attempting to hide the growing smirk on her face.

“Yeah! Yes! Mhmm I can do that, I c-can definitely do t-that.”, he gushed, trying to subtly clear his throat to clear the steadily growing tension in his body.

“Good to hear, Doc.”, she cheekily replied just as the raunchy sounds echoing through the system transitioned to different methods of communication, more legible ones.

“Ты была для меня такой хорошей девочкой. Я думаю, ты заслуживаешь награды.”

Quickly clearing his throat once more, he jumped back into action, with what Y/n noticed was considerably less confidence than before. “You’ve b-been such a good g-girl for me. I think you deserve a r-reward.” Spencer’s voice had noticeably dropped to a whisper by the end of the sentence, forcing Y/n to lean closer to be able to hear his translations, only magnifying the already present tension in the air. 

“Пожалуйста, папа, я сделаю что угодно.”

“P-please daddy.” His voice broke at the end igniting something deep inside Y/n’s being. “I’ll do anything.” In that moment she truly believed he would do anything, his own words or not, based on the obvious strain in his pants that her eyes glanced over, and also by the way his skin completely succumbed to goosebumps as her warm breath caressed the shell of his ear. She didn’t really know what the hell was happening, why her body was absolutely loving the way he gradually leaned into her’s, submitting all of his vulnerabilities into her hands. 

“Тебе это нравится, не так ли, маленькая шлюшка. Как член папы глубоко внутри тебя?”

She watched the way he inhaled a deep breath and released a high-pitched sigh before continuing on, subtly pressing her legs together to control the excitement thrumming through her body at his pathetic tone and mannerisms. 

“You like t-that don’t you, you little-uh-you little s-slut?” From their close proximity, she could clearly make out the speedy heartbeat clambering against his chest as he spoke. And if that was the case, he must’ve been able to feel hers as well. “Like daddy’s c-cock deep inside of y-you?” She could’ve sworn she saw his dick twitch slightly in his pants.

“Маленькая шлюшка уже придет за мной? Тогда умоляйте об этом. Бля, умоляю позволить тебе кончить.”

Y/n certainly did not miss the airy sigh that escaped his lips, watching as a bead of sweat dripped down his temple, confidently guessing it was not from the heat that had been coming through the vents.

“Is the little-little s-slut gonna come for me already? B-beg for it then. Fucking beg f-for me to let you c-come.” Spencer was speedily falling apart at the seams and she was loving it. More than loving it. She was craving it. Craving the little noises that he was trying to stop from escaping his lips. Craving the way he slightly bounced his leg in an attempt to control his arousal, which was futile because it had obviously already reached its full potential in the confines of his khaki slacks. 

“Пожалуйста, папа. Пожалуйста, позволь мне прийти. Мне это надо. Пожалуйста.”

Without even hearing the words translated back to her, she could hear the utter desperation in the girl’s voice. She no longer needed to understand the Russian language to be able to finish the translation, and as she sat there with her thighs tightly pressed together, she knew exactly what it meant.

“Please!” The utter need that was present in the original audio was somehow mirrored perfectly by the young doctor’s breathy voice, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, a prominent vein popping through the skin of his smooth forehead. “Please, p-please, please let me come. I n-need it. Please!”

“Приди за мной, детка.”

Deciding that she could regret her actions in the morning, Y/n quickly grabbed his face before he could translate, angling his head so she could whisper directly into his ear at the same time he spoke the last line of the night.

“Come for me baby.”, they both spoke at the exact same time.

Pulling away as fast as possible, she watched his clamped eyes shoot open as the most obnoxiously loud moan she had ever heard escaped the poor kid, his whole body spasming as a result. And using the large stain on the crotch of his pants as a guide, she was pretty certain she knew what had happened.

For the next few minutes there was silence in the SUV, apart from Spencer’s heavy breathing as he came down of course, leading them to believe the couple had fallen asleep after their...activities. Of course she wanted nothing more than to tease the trembling mess next to her, but she could already tell he was mortified beyond belief because of what happened so she didn’t want to make it any worse for him than it already was. 

After waiting a few extra minutes just to make sure that they had actually gone to sleep, the pair drove away from the stakeout location, Spencer not having said a word since his...big finish. As much as she loved watching him fall apart in front of her, she really didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable around her. 

“Well that was certainly an unexpected turn of events for the night, huh?”, she said, lightly chuckling with the intent of lightening his mood. She was very glad to see it had the intended effect.

“Uh y-yeah...you could definitely say that again.”, he mumbled with the ghost of a smile on his plump lips, though she could still clearly make out the blush coating his features.

“So hey, I know that you usually take the metro, but I’d be more than happy to give you a ride home after we drop the SUV off at the office if you want.”, she warmly smiled in his direction without taking her eyes completely off the road.

“Oh um..yeah that would be perfect. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it Reid.”

~~~

The rest of the ride back to the office was pretty much spent in silence, but it was much more comfortable than it had been before, which was a huge relief. After dropping the keys to the SUV in the lock box inside, the two agents piled into Y/n’s car to go back home to their shared building. On their way back she considered just asking him if he wanted to ride with her everyday just to make his life a little easier in the long run.

Once they got to the parking lot and exited the vehicle, they began walking towards the entrance together, the awkward tension from before creeping back into the air around them. Soon enough, they found themselves standing in front of their respective doors, both unsure of how they were supposed to end the night’s interactions. After a few moments of painful silence and eye contact, Y/n was the first one to rip off the band-aid.

“So...I guess I’ll see you tomorrow Reid?” He seemed to be broken out of his trance by the sound of her voice, snapping back to attention.

“Huh? Oh yeah uh yes of course. S-see you tomorrow Y/n. Goodnight.” He scampered into his apartment before she could even get a chance to respond to his bidding.

“Goodnight.”, she whispered to no one other than herself as she unlocked her door and headed inside to shower quickly before diving into her soft sheets.

She was sitting up in her bed, book in hand, with only the small glow of her reading lamp illuminating her room when she heard it. Of course she knew immediately what they were, a talent that had developed and strengthened from living adjacent to a pretty much pubescent boy.

The tell-tale sound of moans and groans vibrating right through her wall.

She knew she probably shouldn’t be listening, something about a violation of privacy or whatever, but she just couldn’t help it. He sounded so desperate it was driving her insane. So much in fact that she was in the process of skimming her own hand downwards when she was interrupted by a certain something from the Doc’s room.

“Y/n! Oh god, please. Please.”

Oh. Oh.

Not even giving herself a second to consider her actions, she was up on her feet basically sprinting to his door, pajamas and all. Not even bothering with knocking, she noticed it was unlocked and let herself in, beelining for what she assumed was his bedroom by the increasing volume as she approached it. Standing in his doorframe, she was utterly mesmerized. There he was, sprawled across his sheets, completely bare with sweat coating his hair as he rapidly pumped his angry, red cock, her name tumbling from his lips like a chant.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” She smirked as she watched his head shoot up to where she was standing, his hand immediately stilling it’s rapid movements. Watching the panic spread on his face was intoxicating to her as she slowly approached his bed.

“Y/n! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I uh-I didn’t um...” His words trailed off and his eyes widened as he watched her slowly begin removing her clothes as she moved closer to him. 

“Shhhhhh.” She managed to remove both her shirt and pajama pants in the short trip over to his bed and she had no intention of stopping there. Now standing directly in front of him, she let her eyes wander over his still frame completely, soaking in the amazement in his dark eyes and the slight tremble that was periodically rippling through his body. Maintaining eye contact with him the whole time, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it pool on the floor next to her.

It was honestly shocking his eyes didn’t actually fall onto the floor with how far they bulged out of their sockets, a small moan leaving his mouth. 

She giggled at his enthusiasm before bringing her soft hands up to caress his face gently, his body shuddering at the contact. “Do you want me to keep going baby boy?” Taking a second to process the question that had left her lips, he slowly nodded while looking her in the eyes, his own full of awe. 

Happy with his answer, she reached for the edge of her panties before pushing them down to join the other pieces of clothing already inhabiting his floor. Spencer couldn’t speak. He could barely even breathe. Five minutes ago he had been jerking off to his neighbor, who also happened to be his coworker, and now said neighbor was crawling onto his bed, completely naked, with a wicked smirk on her face.

Straddling his lap, but making sure that there was no actual contact, she reached up to cup his face again, slowly rubbing circles into his defined cheekbone. “Is this ok baby boy? Is this what you want?”, she cooed. 

Spencer looked like he honestly might cry from the pure compassion laced within her words, but still found a way to nervously nod his head in affirmation of her questions. With a warm smile on her face, she leaned forward and placed a feather-light kiss on his lower jaw before continuing up the side of his face, basking in the small whimpers that fell from his pretty lips. Finally reaching his ear, she let her warm breath tease him before proceeding. 

“Do you want me to take control of you? Is that what you want sweet boy?” While the whine that immediately escaped him was answer enough, she pulled back searching for a more concrete answer to her question. “Hmmmm, you’d like that?” 

“Yes.”, he whispered, nodding his head anxiously. 

While he was answering she had leaned back towards his face, placing soft kisses all over. “As you wish baby boy.”, she whispered, changing course to attack his neck with her eager lips as soon the words left her mouth. Spencer gasped instantly and she couldn’t help but smirk against his pale flesh, increasing the pressure in which she was assaulting his neck.

Through the groans that spilled past his lips, she was able to make out his pathetic attempt at words, not slowing down her lips at all. “J-just make sure not to leave any m-marks. We’ll g-get in trouble at w-work.” Of course Spencer would be the only person on the planet to remember their office guidelines while getting his neck sucked like a vampire.

“No marks...that’ll be difficult. I want everyone to know just how thoroughly I fucked you.”

Feeling extremely satisfied by his enthusiastic response to her vulgar words, she slowly lowered herself down his body, pausing with her mouth right above his groin. Somehow the poor kid already looked completely fucked out and she hadn’t even done anything yet. Hearing him wince as she gently grasped and started stroking his cock, she knew this was gonna be fun.

Staring directly into her eyes, he watched the string of spit leave her mouth and drip directly onto his dick, eyes bulging at her bold actions, still in shock that any of this was actually happening. 

Entranced by the way his chest expanded rapidly as he watched her curiously, she leaned forward and licked the tip, his head falling back onto the pillow behind him. “I’m gonna suck your cock...but only because I want to see if you can not be a spaz about getting head from me.” Her words made Spencer whimper and she smirked as she took him fully into her mouth, soaking in his pretty noises. 

Y/n had only been going for a minute or two when she heard his groans get louder and felt him twitch in her mouth. Pulling off of him with a pop, she hummed at the sight of the completely wrecked boy in front of her, panting and shaking adorably. It wasn’t long before the perfect idea infiltrated her head, her body thrumming with anticipation and excitement.

“You’ve been such a good boy for me. I think you deserve a reward.”, she smirked, reciting the words that they had heard verbatim. Seemingly catching on to what she was pushing for, he responded accordingly.

“Please Y/n. I’ll do anything.”

She quirked her eyebrow in his direction questioningly, slowly grinding her dripping core against his achingly hard cock. “Anything, baby boy?”

Snapping his heated stare directly to her eyes, he cracked a beautiful smile. “Anything.”

She couldn’t control the grin that overtook her lips as she lowered herself down onto his erection, writhing in pleasure at the feel of him inside of her and the sound of his wanton moans. “Good boy.” 

Wanting to give Spencer time to fully adjust and control himself, she started her movements out slow, lifting herself up until only his tip remained inside before dropping down completely into his lap repeatedly. He was a moaning mess on the sheets below her, sweat coating his body along with goosebumps covering every visible expanse of his skin as he panted like a dog. He was so fucking pretty like this. 

Deciding enough was enough, she picked up the pace considerably, bouncing like a mad woman on his dick, while her sharp nails scratched down his creamy, pale chest in front of her, leaving angry, red streaks in their wake. Spencer had devolved into a blubbering mess underneath her and that lit her soul on fire.

“You like that don’t you, you little slut? Like your cock deep inside of me? Huh?” 

Y/n was pretty sure that he was short circuiting below her, his brain cutting off all control over his body as he spasmed uncontrollably and moaned for the entire fucking building to hear. Good, she thought. Let them hear how whipped he was for her. Even though it had only been a few minutes since she increased her speed, she could feel his cock starting to twitch violently inside of her and she knew he was close, really close.

“Is the little slut gonna come for me already?” All he could do was whimper in response, having to nod his head emphatically due to his loss of speech.

“Beg for it then. Fucking beg for me to let you come!” She was on fucking cloud nine right now, floating through the motions, as his whimpers increased in volume and speed. Mustering up all the strength he could, he spit out as many audible words as possible.

“Please! Please, please, please let me come! I need it! Please!” He was crying now, tears rapidly pouring from his eyes and spilling down his cheeks out of sheer desperation and need to release the tension built up within his body.

She was in awe of him. As she watched the tears pour down his face, she couldn’t help but whimper too. Desperately needing to finish, herself, she brought one hand down to make circles around her clit, while the other she brought up to wrap gently around his flushed throat, leaning over to whisper in his ear like she had earlier that night.

“Come for me, baby.”

She once again pulled back to witness his reactions to her hushed words, the outcome only more amazing than before. She watched as his eyes rolled back as far they could possibly go into his head as his mouth dropped open in pure ecstasy, high-pitched whines escaping his lips, his release shooting up into her like it had always belonged there. Maybe it had.

Watching him come undone below her, combined with her hand speedily rubbing circles on her clit, she was catapulted into the most amazing climax of her entire life, her body buzzing with excitement as she tightened around him and collapsed on his chest, weak as could be after that activity.

The pair laid silently, apart from the heaving breaths whirring through the room, still in shock over what had just transpired minutes before. Slowly shifting her eyes to the shivering boy below her, she saw he was caught in a trance, his eyes dazed, a soft grin on his lips. 

Breaking him from his stupor, she gently cupped his cheek with one hand as the other drew lazy circles on his blotchy chest. Rubbing the skin on his face lightly, she leaned forward and kissed his nose, making him scrunch it up and giggle as a result. “Such a sweet boy for me. Such a sweet, sweet boy.” Her words made him melt inside and words tumbled out of his own mouth before he could even think about stopping them.

“Вы красивы внутри и снаружи.”

She looked up at him in shock, before breaking out in giggles. “Did you just serenade me in Russian? How romantic.”, she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

He couldn’t seem to control his giggles either, a fact that warmed her heart. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

Smiling up at the adorable boy she just had to ask. “What does it mean?”

Y/n watched as his signature blush quickly coated his features once again as he looked down at her with a shy smile. “You are beautiful, inside and out.”

With the warmest grin she could muster, she leaned up and kissed his jaw once more before snuggling up against the young doctor who had melted her heart.

Tag List: @hopebaker @pastathighs @psychedellic-phase @gloryekaterina @sleepysnapesnake @racharr @etherealgubler @furiouspartyrebelhoagie @andiebeaword @liaabsurd @cielo1984 @starkeybaby @victomizedbyreginageorge @rainsong01 @moonlight-jukebox @gretaamyk @httpnxtt @rachelxwayne @goldnratio @cheyxminds @kricketc29 @cupcake525 @pinkdiamond1016 @slutforthegubes @shadyladyperfection @emilysallysmith @babblingbrookex @legendaryanimeaestheticclou @sunstspidey @ashwarren32 @pixels-impulse @eviewildflower @spencerreider @awkwardsadaa @dirty-pan-goblin @spencerspecifics

[plaidbooks]

Friends

A/N: Okay, so sometimes I write incredibly self-indulgent fics to process shit happening in real life. And I almost didn’t post this, but I feel like if it can help someone, then it’s worth it to post. I promise to work on other things shortly, but here’s a short thing until then.

Tags: none, just loneliness

Words: 1041

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy  @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867  @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass  @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas​ @reading--mermaid  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

It was your third week in Manhattan SVU, and you were still coping. You had moved from California to New York, and you missed your friends back home. Sure, you kept in touch—when you could—but it wasn’t the same. And though the squad you now worked with was friendly, you felt out of place. The last new person, Sonny, had been there for two years already and you could see how close all their relationships were to each other.

They had invited you out for drinks and get togethers, but you always came up with some excuse. You were always too nervous, too afraid of what they’d think of you. So, you instead spent your nights at home, alone, catching up on whatever hobbies kept you entertained. But eventually, the soul-crushing loneliness ate away at you.

You were in the breakroom, grabbing a snack from the vending machine. There was laughter behind you, and you glanced over, seeing Fin, Sonny, and Amanda talking and joking with each other. You tried to ignore the stab of sadness, tried to blink away your tears before they fell. You were so wrapped up in your own emotions that you didn’t hear anyone approaching.

“Hey, are you okay?” a voice asked. You recognized it as Sonny, and you quickly wiped away your tears before giving him a fake smile.

“Yep! Fine! How’re you?” you replied, voice a little too high pitched.

Sonny’s brow was furrowed with concern. “Are ya sure you’re okay? Wanna talk about it?”

That was the last thing you wanted to do. But him asking if you were alright with that look of deep concern made your nose burn with unshed tears. “I—I’m fine. Back to work,” you said, giving up on the snack and practically running out of there. He watched you go, wondering what just happened.

 ***************

You had been able to compose yourself the rest of the day, but there were a couple times you came close to breaking down again. If I can only hold it until I’m home, I’ll be fine, you thought. Though, you caught Sonny glancing at you every now and again.

Just when you were getting ready to leave for the night, a small emergency came in. Liv apologized to you before asking if you could pull an all-nighter in a stakeout—to protect a victim. She offered to give you tomorrow off, to catch up on some sleep, and you accepted; you weren’t going to be doing anything, anyways.

But your heart sunk when Sonny volunteered to join you in the stakeout. Liv agreed, and Sonny shot you a big smile, which you tried to return.

 ***************

“Are we gonna talk about the breakroom?” Sonny finally asked. It was nearing 3am; you had endured most of the night without him bringing it up, and with three more hours ahead of you, you had hoped he wouldn’t.

You swallowed. “Nothing happened in—”

“You were crying, doll,” he said softly. He let the silence drag on for a moment before continuing, “look, I don’t want to pry into your life or make ya uncomfortable. But if you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears. No judgement, promise.”

You took a deep breath, looking out the window, away from Sonny. “I miss my friends, Carisi. I’m…I’m lonely.”

You weren’t sure what he had been expecting, but from his shocked silence, you guessed not that. “I guess you would be a little homesick, being so far from home,” he muttered.

“I’m not homesick; I am heart-breakingly, soul-crushingly lonely! I don’t know anyone, don’t have anyone to talk to or hang out with! They’re all across the country from me!” you took another deep, shuddering breath, wiping away the tears that had appeared.

Silence reigned as Sonny thought through his words. “I’m sorry, doll. I’m sorry that I haven’t made more of an effort to hang out with you. But I do count ya as a friend, if that makes a difference to ya—”

“The last thing I want is you blaming yourself, or any of the squad. It’s my fault; you all have been so sweet, so accepting. And you’ve asked me to come out multiple times.”

“Yeah, but you’re always busy. I should try and wait until you’re free—”

“I’m always free, Sonny. I’ve been lying to you. You’ll ask me out to drinks, and I’ll lie and say I’m unpacking; I’ve finished unpacking weeks ago! In reality, I go home and sit alone, doing nothing.”

He looked stunned as he took in this information. “Then why don’t you want to go out?”

A few more tears escaped your eyes as you looked at him, begging him to understand. “Because I’m afraid—afraid of butting into all your relationships. You’re all such great friends with each other and I don’t know how to approach that.”

“You know, I had trouble making friends, too,” he mused, a small smile on his face.

You scoffed at this. “You? Mr. Social Butterfly?”

He let out a chuckle. “I know, shocking. But I had ta force myself to become like that. I went through four departments in less than a year; I had ta make friends over and over again. And like you, it was hard to insert myself into established friend groups, but I did. It may seem like I’m used to it now, but it wasn’t always like that.”

“I—I just don’t know how to change…” you whispered.

Sonny smiled at you. “Well, you come hang out with me one day. Liv gave us both tomorrow off. So, after we sleep for a little bit, why don’t you and I go out and do something? It can just be us, if that makes ya more comfortable. Or, if ya want, I’m sure I can get Rollins and/or Fin to come, too.”

“I…think I’d rather just one person first,” you said sheepishly.

He nodded. “Understandable. So, just you and me. We can do whatever you want: bowling, hiking, checking out a museum, whatever. Just come hang out with me, okay?”

You wiped away what remained of your tears, giving Sonny a bright smile. “Yeah, okay. No excuses this time. Let’s be friends.”

“Absolutely, doll.”

[ezrasarm]

Coming Out As Asexual/Aspec

Pairings: Javier Pena x reader, Marcus Pike x reader, Din Djarin x reader, Ezra x reader, Frankie Morales x reader

Word count: 2.3K (oops)

Warnings: discussions of sexuality, depictions of main characters as Aspec

A/n: I apologize these were meant to be head canons and a few of them wound up turning into mini fics. I would like to thank @dishonouringmycow for supplying many ideas and helping me concoct these for you and @kiss-evans for her insight as well. These were a lot of fun to write! We’ve written these HCs in hopes that they will be inclusive and relatable to most ace/demi-/greysexual folks and anyone in between. We hope you like them!

[masterlist]

Javier Peña

Telling Javi is a little tricky.

Given the time period, and the fact that asexuality was hardly a word let alone a widely accepted concept, Javier didn’t stand a chance when you went about explaining to him your “unconventional” relationship with sexual attraction.

You didn’t even fully understand it yourself at that point which is why you were terrified when you felt you owed him an explanation for turning him down.

You and Javi had been dancing around each other since pretty much the moment you landed in Bogata.

You knew you cared about him more than the average coworker and Steve didn’t hesitate to tease either of you mercilessly for it with every chance he got.

But there was a reason you had been avoiding acting on those feelings you harboured for him and a reason you were so terrified when he reciprocated them.

Silence overwhelms the small stakeout vehicle when you tell him.

He doesn’t get it.

“Oh.”

The disappointment that pours off of him is palpable.

This really wasn’t the reaction he was expecting to the heartfelt confession he had mustered up the courage for only moments ago.

“Javi,” You sigh, “It’s not like that. It’s not personal. I don’t feel attracted to anyone that way.” You reiterate but he still seems convinced that this is just an elaborate attempt to spare his feelings.

“You don’t have to do that, you know? You don’t have to let me down easy.”

“That’s not what this is. I really just don’t operate that way.”

You had seen the girls coming and going from his apartment across the hall. You knew how he chose to blow off steam after stressful days at work and you knew you couldn’t keep up with that.

“I don’t think I can be there for you like you want me to.”

It takes a moment for it to dawn on him what you mean and you think he finally takes the hint when another ‘oh’ escapes him.

“I don’t need-“ He starts up but cuts himself off when you give him a pointed look.

“I really, really wanted this to work.” He says after what feels like hours of you discussing all the reasons you would wind up resenting each other if you went down that path. All the fears you had of starting something up with him.

“Me too.” You hum solemnly when you deflate to lean into his side and rest your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

He’s quick to shake his head and whisper a quiet “Don’t apologize.” When he wraps an arm around you and places a kiss to the top of your head.

You both walk away from that stakeout with heavy hearts but lighter shoulders and although it takes some time to heal you learn to show how much you care about each other in different ways.

Now he slings an arm around your shoulders when you’re getting unwanted attention on a night out.

You stay up drinking with him so he doesn’t have to brood alone after a particularly tiring day.

Soft touches and reassuring words come easier between you two.

Most importantly you’re both happy and you haven’t lost each other.

Marcus Pike

Marcus is a little less clueless.

He knows Asexuality exists and has a vague sense of what it is, he just doesn’t know a whole lot about it.

There’s not much pressure when you tell him.

It comes as a bit of a disclaimer early in your relationship and you try not to make a big deal of it. You just want to make sure that he’s aware as your relationship progresses.

Marcus, ever the sweet and compassionate boyfriend is attentive and understanding as you speak.

The words that seem to stick out in his mind come at the only point when the slightest bit of doubt weens it’s way into your voice, “I just wanted to make sure that that’s- that I’m enough for you.”

His heart stops and he’s overcome by a feeling of both shock and sorrow that you could ever think such a thing of yourself.

“Of course. Of course, you’re enough.”

“You’re more than enough. You’re… you’re everything.”

What you don’t see is the way that after this conversation he finds himself wracking up more and more questions that he’s too scared to ask you. Not because he’s afraid of the answer but because he doesn’t want to overstep or make you uncomfortable.

So naturally, he turns to the next best thing.

The internet.

What he fails to realize is how broad a spectrum of asexuality there is and all he gets is more and more confused.

Marcus accidentally develops a following on Aspec Reddit forums for trying to ask people questions and them all just going “aww, Hun” at this poor clueless bean and swooning over how much he cares about you.

Despite the enthusiasm and volume of their responses, they don’t really add much clarity beyond “Hey, maybe you should ask your SO”

Instead, he runs around treating you like glass while he tries to buck up the courage to actually talk to you about it until on a movie night as he awkwardly tries to contort himself around you so he’s cuddling you… without touching you, you finally snap.

“Marcus! What is going on?”

That’s when he finally and rather sheepishly admits that he wants you to tell him more about your sexuality.

“Oh.”

You pause the movie and give him your full attention as you try and talk him through as much as you’re able to explain until suddenly you’re stuck for an answer and you look up at him with rather watery eyes as you admit you have no idea and suddenly you’re the one having the existential crisis.

“Oh, oh no. It’s alright, we can figure it out together! Shhh, it’s all fine. Please don’t cry! Reddit didn’t tell me this would happen!”

“Who-ddit?”

Din Djarin

Coming out to Din is rather anticlimactic.

He doesn’t have much to say beyond “Okay.”

You’re a little confused at first.

That went… too well.

It’s a while later when he brings it up again that you begin to realize why.

There’s no hesitation or taboo, he’s quite straight forward when he asks why you were so nervous.

At first, you’re not so sure what to say. Wasn’t that kind of obvious?

“Not everyone takes it so well.” You shrug thinking back to past relationships where your partners seemed to expect you to give them more than you were willing to.

You could practically see the gears turning behind his visor and it’s only now that you connect the dots and his reaction from before seems to add up.

To him, that was the norm.

It makes sense the more you think about it.

In all the time you had spent travelling with him, all the objectively beautiful women, men and everyone else in between that had crossed your paths, all the slurs that had been thrown at him by drunkards in cantinas about how he fucks with all that armour on, all the rather compromising situations you had found yourself in with him before and you had never caught his gaze wander or heard him express any indication of interest in yourself or anyone in that way.

You had always put it down to his creed. As far as you were aware such things were forbidden for people of his faith but you’re left with an odd sense of comfort as you realized that wasn’t the case.

Perhaps this was his strange little way of letting you know you weren’t alone.

Ezra

When you met Ezra you were prepared for the worst.

A guy as cocky and loquacious as him and you just trying to keep your head down in the busy bar and enjoy your drink in peace after a rough day.

You didn’t have high hopes when he swung into the booth across from you and started down whatever elaborate story he had decided would impress you enough to get you into bed.

“It’s my missing appendage, isn’t it?” he asks when you quite clearly don’t bite.

He’s already moving to leave you be when your eyebrows knit together in confusion and your eyes blow wide as you’re hit with a sudden wave of guilt.

You had grown used to deflecting advances like this but something about the way he said it, the bold, charismatic man suddenly looking like a kicked puppy made your guts churn.

You didn’t normally give an explanation, you didn’t feel you owed anyone that, especially not a stranger and yet here you were.

“What? No! No, I actually think you’re very good looking and charming and all those things people look for in a partner, I’m just not particularly one for casual hookups.” You say looking around the room where you now felt wildly out of place with just about all of its inhabitants presumably looking to get laid or trying to forget someone they couldn’t do so with.

“...Or any hookups really.” You correct yourself and watch as the disappointed look on his face morphs into a glint of curiosity.

“You a uh- a spade?” He asks resettling into the booth, an oblivious smile settling on his cheeks when you laugh at him.

You spend until last-call deeply enthralled in conversation and comforted by one another’s company.

That’s all either of you were here for in the first place, to feel a little less lonely.

You’re only pried apart by the closing of the bar, the nag of sleep hot on your heels and the promise that this wouldn’t be the last you saw of each other.

Frankie Morales

Frankie knew you were asexual.

You had told him before, he just didn’t entirely understand what that meant until much later on.

He seemed familiar with the term but his knowledge of the concept didn’t seem to extend beyond a basic definition.

Frankie’s first wife was his first for a lot of things. First girlfriend, first kiss, first love, first lover, first breakup.

He took the divorce pretty hard, as anyone would.

They’d gotten married so young, before he was deployed, that the guys had never seen him single before and neither had he really.

It took a long time for him to recover and by then he was content. ‘not in a particularly big rush to start down the relationship path and get hurt again’ is how he had phrased it to you once in confidence.

But another factor that he failed to recognize fully at the time was that he just hadn’t found anyone he was interested in in that way.

He’d tried going on a couple of dates but none of them clicked and it just left him feeling more alone.

It was after Tom died, almost five years after his divorce that the guys finally called him on it.

At first they just assumed the way he had been acting was about Tom and in a sense it was, Tom was the only one who had been through a divorce before, he was the only one who really understood and talked him through it when the going got tough.

Will was the one to put the pieces together and realize that the issue wasn’t Tom so much as Frankie getting more and more tired of being on his own.

His intentions were well meaning. They were just trying to help.

All they wanted was to see him happy but the more the boys seemed to try and set him up, the more resistance they were met with and even Frankie couldn’t figure out why until he was sat, venting to you about it one night.

“How did you know you were ace?” He blurts out suddenly and you’re a little lost for words, you weren’t really expecting this conversation to go this way but it was obviously something he had been considering for a while.

“Sorry that wasn’t a fair question,” He says when he notices you’re struggling, “I just- they keep trying to set me up with, who I’m sure are some really great people, but it’s all on this little tiny screen and all you see are a couple photos and maybe a blurb if you’re lucky and there’s just no…”

“Connection?” You suggest. Those big puppy eyes shoot up to you from where they were fixed on the counter in front of him and he gives you a slight nod.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He sighs and your heart breaks a little looking at him like that before you round the counter and pull him into a hug. “I’ve felt attraction before but I look at the guys and it feels like it takes so much more for me to get to that point than them.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” You assure him gently, brushing your fingers through his hair when you pull away to give him a reassuring smile. “Sounds like you could be on the asexuality spectrum.”

“There’s a spectrum?”

[masterlist]

Permanent Taglist: @agirllovespancakes @chaoticspaceidiot @engineeredfiction @pedropascalito @dreamgirl-67 @wickedfrsgrl @hillarymurray4 @din-damn-djarin @yespolkadotkitty @wille-zarr @oloreaa @browneyes-djarin @marydjarin @roxypeanut @opheliaelysia @cryptkeepersoul @prxtty-boah @aliciaxglasgow @elena-myth @theocatkov @bioticgoddess @edencherries @kandomeresbitch @mrsparknuts @hayley-the-comet @rachelxwayne @thirstworldproblemss @andriecastana @justanotherblonde23

Pedro Boys Taglist: @theravenreads @mrschiltoncat @seasonschange-butpeopledont @dishonouringmycow @deafspaceperson 

[berkmansimagines]

King of My Heart

A/N: Sorry it took so long to post this fic! I’ve been so busy lately, it was nice to finally get the time to write. Anyways I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Barry keeps you company during a stakeout.

Pairing: Barry Berkman x hitman!girlfriend reader

“This job fucking sucks.”

You’re on the phone with Barry as you wait for your target to get home. He should have arrived around 5 PM. It’s now close to 10 and there’s still no sign of him. 

You thought it was going to be a quick and easy job but you’ve been staked out on a couch in an abandoned lot across the street from your target’s house for hours. You were not prepared to be here this long. 

“He can’t avoid his place forever. He’ll be home soon,” your boyfriend tries to reassure you.

“I hope so,” you shiver.

It’s cold and you’re so hungry that you can hear your stomach growl. You wish you brought a jacket and some snacks.

“Y/N, what was that noise? A coyote?” Barry asks, concerned.

“No, that was me. I haven’t eaten since that burnt toast you made for breakfast,” you laugh.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah! I really want to go get some food but knowing my luck my target will get home as soon as I leave,” you shrug.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright out there?” Barry sounds worried.

“I’ll be fine,” you sigh, “I just really needed to bitch about my current situation. And I kinda miss you, Berkman. I still want to see you tonight if I can.” 

“I want to see you too,” Barry tells you, “Listen, uh, I gotta go run a few errands. But I’ll call you after.”

“Maybe I’ll be done with this job by then,” you say half-heartedly. 

“Bye Y/N”

“Later babe.”

You end the call and notice a text message from your handler, Diane. She is asking if you have finished the job yet. You shake your head and roll your eyes. Normally you’d text her back right away, but not tonight. Diane was the one that told you this would be a quick assignment and you’re frustrated that she gave you false intel. It’s not like her to be wrong.

You decide to ignore the text for now. Instead, you scroll through your phone until you find the first episode of the true crime podcast you’ve been meaning to check out. You press play and allow yourself to get sucked into the story. Your eyes remain locked on the target’s house.

RING, RING, RING

You gasp and almost jump out of your seat. The podcast you were listening to was going into the gruesome details of a murder and the unexpected phone call startled you. You look down at your phone and see Barry’s name flash on the screen. Then you notice the time and your jaw drops. It’s 11:15 PM. You were so engrossed by the podcast you didn’t realize how much time had passed.

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself before answering the phone, “Hey babe! What’s up?”

“Hey Y/N! Did that guy ever show up?”

“No. I have no idea what time he’ll get here. I’m sorry, Barry. I don’t think I can see you tonight,” you shake your head, disappointed.

“How about I go to you instead?” your boyfriend asks.

“Oh that's so sweet! But this dude lives all the way across town. I don't want to put you out like that,” you explain. You’re touched that he offered though.

“Yeah and what if I already did?” Barry asks.

“What?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Look to your left,” Barry tells you.

You turn your head. It’s dark and you see a tall shadowy figure approaching. Before seeing a face you already know who it is based on the person’s stature and walk. It’s Barry. You can’t believe it.

You hang up the phone and rise to your feet when Barry reaches you.

“Hey! Holy shit, what are you doing here?” you ask excitedly.

“Hey, uh, I wanted to bring you something. You sounded cold earlier so...” he holds out a sweatshirt. 

Your face lights up. It’s one of Barry’s sweatshirts and it will be huge on you, but you don’t care because it’s freezing out. You’re so cold that the hair on your arms are standing up.

“Thanks Barry!” you kiss his cheek and take the sweatshirt. 

As soon as you put on the sweatshirt, your entire body starts to relax. It’s comfy and it kind of smells like Barry. You feel safe and warm, just like when you’re in Barry’s arms. You sit back down on the couch and he sits beside you. 

“You can keep it if you want to,” your boyfriend offers.

“Does this mean we’re finally going steady?” you tease.

Barry gives you a small smile. He brought you his sweatshirt so you can keep warm, but he actually really likes seeing you wear it. 

“What’s in the bag?” you ask Barry, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Oh! Yeah, uh, I also grabbed some food for you,” he holds up a bag from In-N-Out Burger and hands it to you, “I wanted to make up for the burnt toast this morning.”

“Are you serious? You got In-N-Out! Oh my God, I love you!”

Your eyes widen. You didn’t mean to say the last part aloud, it just kind of slipped out. You keep your head down to avoid looking at Barry.

The two of you had only been dating for a couple of months. You’re still keeping it a secret from Diane, Fuches and everybody else from this side of your lives out of fear of retribution. 

Because of your job, you’ve never been a relationship person. You didn’t want to lie to your partner or put them in any sort of danger. But Barry is different. He knows what you actually do for work, your deepest secrets, the moments you are most ashamed of and he doesn’t judge you. Barry understands you better than anyone. You never imagined meeting anyone like him. You really had fallen in love with Barry.  

Barry’s jaw slightly drops, “You...you love me?”

“I, uhm, I…. I’m sorry,” you’re flustered, “I didn’t mean… well I did mean but… I’m sorry I just didn’t want to put you on the spot like that… or think I was moving too...”

“Y/N,” Barry tries before you interrupt him.

“I know we’ve only been together a short time and trying to keep it on the down low. So you don’t need to say it back and we can just pretend it never happened,” you say quickly without stopping for a breath.

“Y/N, I love you too,” Barry says softly.

“What?” your heart skips a beat.

“I love you too,” your boyfriend repeats.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Barry nods his head, “I’ve known since like the moment I saw you.”

You lean closer to Barry when suddenly you hear a car driving down the street. You immediately turn your head and see your target pulling into his driveway. You give the In-N-Out bag back to Barry while keeping your eyes on the car. 

“Is that the guy?” Barry whispers in a serious tone.

“I think so,” you answer, “Once he gets out, I’ll know for sure.”

Your target parks very unevenly and stumbles out of the car. He appears to be drunk.

“It’s him! Finally!” you eagerly get into position.

With one finger on the trigger of your sniper rifle, you keep an eye on your target and wait for the perfect shot. As the drunk man walks towards his front door, he drops his keys on the ground. He looks down searching for the keys, but is having trouble. Your target remains in the same position and no one else is around. Everything is perfectly still when you press down on the trigger.

POP, POP

The silencer on your rifle makes a faint noise before everything turns quiet again. You had hit your target in the back and the head. The man falls to the ground. He’s dead. You take a deep breath, relieved that your job is finally over.

“Y/N…” Barry says quietly as he stands up.

Before your boyfriend can say anything else, you pull him close and kiss him hard on the lips. Barry’s a little surprised at first, you seemed to have taken him off guard. But then he starts kissing you back, running his fingers through your hair. A few moments later, you pull away.

“Barry, I love you,” you tell him with much more confidence this time, “Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

[space-------kid]

My second request! Sorry this took a while, anon! And thank you so much! have a great day, too, and please stay safe~ 😄💕💕 

Ah, you’re in luck, anon! Akaza is the only demon I think I’ll be writing for

me: *looks at fic*: why must i be cruel--

A/N: Hanakotoba is briefly touched in this fic. It’s the Japanese form of the flower language.

[5 slots are still open for one-shot/headcanon requests:  ✎ ✎ ✎ ]

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺ 

𝓽𝓸 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓮𝓪𝓴 (𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓲𝓽𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯) 𝒜𝓀𝒶𝓏𝒶 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺   

               The command he receives is simple: travel to the south – where the land meets the sea – and kill the wealthy man who helps support the Demon Slayer corps. He knows how missions like this show how important his role as the third Upper Moon is, how he is always deployed for special cases such as this one. He mostly follows without question, and that is why that man lets him off scot free for refusing to kill and devour women.

               Akaza doesn’t understand it himself, why he insists on letting such delicate creatures exist. Something in his gut tells him that it’s wrong, though – he can kill all the men for all he cares, but he must leave the women alone.

               Douma teases him a lot for it, and Akaza’s hatred for his fellow demon grows ever stronger with each passing of the moon.

               The sand under his feet is pristinely white, soft and cold. Pale yellow eyes – marked with his status within Kibutsuji Muzan’s closest circle – take in the sight of a waxing moon, marvelling at how something unreachable and untouchable will remain forever unchanged for centuries to come.

               He stops pondering. You have a mission to complete. The reminder resounds strongly in his mind, in his own voice and not Kibutsuji’s. With his master and creator so far away – masquerading as a human somewhere in Tokyo – Akaza knows he is free to dilly-dally without compromising his mission and angering that man.

              The way the water glimmers in the moonlight reminds him of a pair of exquisite floral eyes that look up to him with kindness and adoration—

              Where did that come from? He asks himself, eyes wide with surprise. But the image – a memory or a delusion, he cannot decide which is which – leaves his mind just as quickly as it comes and Akaza is left gazing at the sea dispassionately.

              The sound of the sea is calming. Maybe he’ll decide later on if he likes it or not.

              Trivial. It doesn’t matter.

              And so Akaza turns his back on the sight of gentle waves and soft sand under his feet.

--

              The next command from his lordship brings him to a village located on the foot of a mountain, and it is where he finds himself facing a distraction.

              The heat of the day has been lulled down by the cool summer breeze the early evening has brought on, and Akaza’s sharp hearing picks up the sounds of a busy crowd amid the chirping of cicadas in the forest. He scales down the mountain and, hidden by the dark and the trees, witnesses the town brightly lit up with numerous lanterns and the cheer of the villagers.

              “It’s the summer festival,” his mind supplies him with the information in the voice of a soft-spoken female. A faint whiff of a battle spirit and the rustle of grass alert him of a sudden company he does not wish to have, and Akaza spots a human woman clad in a flowery kimono standing a few meters where he is hidden.

              Blessed (or is it cursed?) with supernaturally heightened vision, it doesn’t escape the demon’s notice how the woman’s shoulder shake every now and again in time with the wavering of her battle spirit. Luck seem to be on her side, for while Akaza hates being in the presence of weak people, he equally despises the thought of killing and eating women such as her.

              He must have looked away for a second because when he returns his gaze to her, she is already looking at him.

              “Hello.”

              He blinks at the sound of her voice. It resembles the voice in his head just now, and he realizes a little belatedly that it is the woman’s voice he’s heard earlier and not his thoughts.

              It catches Akaza off-guard that this pathetic, sickly, measly human woman has already known of his presence without his own knowledge. The fact irks him, but he reins in his annoyance in favour of stealth and his identity’s secrecy. He chooses to remain hidden in the shadows when she fully turns around to face him.

              Shadows are cast on her face as she stands against the light, but Akaza can easily make out a pair of intelligent [colour] eyes, a pallid complexion, and [colour, length] hair softly swaying with the breeze. The ends of her pale lips are curled up in a gentle, meek smile that sends a pang of unknown longing for someone in the past in the demon’s chest.

              He expects to see flowers in her eyes for reasons unknown—

              “Why do you hide like a thief in the shadows?” she asks him curiously, her eyes narrowing as she tries to peer at him through the darkness.

              Well, he is a thief, but not the kind that she expects. Akaza commands his body to turn back and leave, but he finds himself moving towards her instead when her frame is wracked by a series of hoarse, rattling coughs.

              He watches, fascinated, as the woman lifts both hands to her mouth to stifle her coughs. Her body shakes both with the effort to control her breathing and coughing. Before Akaza knows it, his tattooed hands are already placed solidly on her shoulders to help her steady herself.

              Under normal circumstances, Akaza will remain uncaring even if the woman before him coughs her brains and lungs out. It is her fault – and her parents – for having such a weak, sickly body. But something inside him, buried under a century’s worth of Muzan’s influence and killing, tries to claw its way out because he has to help her, she’s sick, and he has promised her that he will watch the fireworks with—

              Something hisses in the air and, seconds later, the sky is awash in dazzling multi-coloured lights. The woman shifts in his hold and cranes her neck to look up, the fireworks illuminated in her [colour] eyes. Akaza, on the other hand, stares mesmerized at the lights reflected in her eyes.

              They stand together in silence until the last of the fireworks has faded into nothingness. Again, Akaza realizes a little too late that his hands are still on her shoulders, and he frowns at the way he reluctantly lets her go. She, however, smiles up at him in return.

              “Thank you,” she softly tells him. “I should head back now, Grandfather must be worried about me – will you come, if it’s alright with you? You look like a traveller, and I can help you look for a place to stay for the meantime.”

              Akaza’s mind doesn’t register any of her words. Why is she not commenting on his appearance? Surely, she should’ve asked him about his complexion, the marks, and his strange eyes by now – their close proximity offers her every opportunity of taking in his physical appearance. Hasn’t she noticed anything, or has she been too engrossed with the fireworks to even care?

              He demands instead, “Give me your name.”

��             Why is he asking her, she’s not strong, not even worth remembering--

              She is startled by his straightforwardness, but is quick to hide it. The woman takes a step back and bows her head in greeting.

              “I’m [full name].”

              The demon tests her name in his tongue and narrows his eyes when she smiles at him in confirmation.

              Akaza’s frown deepens and he turns his back to her wordlessly.

              “Go home,” he tells her. “You said there’s a man-eating demon in the mountain–“

              “What about you?”

              The demon stills in the gentle worry in her voice, the sound striking some sort of semblance of someone who has been buried in the deepest recesses of his unconscious. Akaza doesn’t understand the way [Name] seems to be reminding him of someone he has forgotten about, and it makes his throat hitch with a mixture of anger, despair, and helplessness. Akaza chooses anger for he is more familiar with it than the weakness entailed by the other two. He is strong, and he despises the weak—

              He disappears wordlessly in the blink of an eye, leaving [Name] alone to her devices.

--

              His target hides himself within walls of wisteria trees, and Akaza is forced to prolong the stakeout and to find ways on how to get the man out of the protection of the accursed blossoms.

              He sees [Name] during the day, frolicking in the forest in search of medicinal herbs with an old man (must be the grandfather she’s mentioned) while he hides in the shade where the sun cannot penetrate through the thick canopy of trees. Akaza studies her whenever he sees her. Her interaction with the elderly human shows kindness and gratitude, with tenderness seeping through whenever the old man fusses if she lets out a few coughs and draws short breaths. [Name] also displays the excitable vigour of someone who has finally been allowed to leave the sickbed after being bedridden for far too long.

              Just like Ko—

              The comparison with someone he cannot remember doesn’t know sends a wave of disconcerted nostalgia in Akaza’s veins.

              It grows ever stronger when, one day, [Name] notices him watching her from afar. Her grandfather’s presence is somewhere else in the forest, leaving the two of them unsupervised like a pair of spellbound children.

              “It’s you again!” [Name] exclaims with a wide smile and waves at him. “You left without saying a word that night during the summer festival – does that mean you’ve already found a place to stay in?”

              She is overwhelmingly loud for someone so sick, expending energy as if she has too much to spare. Akaza scoffs openly when, in her haste to reach him with a blinding smile on her face, [Name] hacks out a rather violent cough.

              Perhaps the gods have been feeling rather mischievous and in favour of him today, for the sky is overcast with thick, dark clouds that prevented even a thin line of sunlight to slip through. And just like the display in the summer festival, Akaza’s body moves in autopilot as his hand grasps her wrist and carefully tugs her under the cover of the trees (the demon doesn’t fully trust the gloomy weather – the gods have been proven to be traitorous when they’ve taken those people from him).

              “Be careful,” Akaza finds himself reprimanding [Name] as his free hand rubs comforting circles on her back to help her coughs to abate. She peers up at him through her eyelashes with watery eyes, embarrassed and apologetic, and the sight takes the breath out of the demon’s lungs.

              K…yu…i.

              “T-Thank you—“

              The emotions in her [colour] eyes turn into curiosity as she stares openly at his face. He doesn’t know if he should feel satisfied or not when recognition finally dawns on her face.

              Akaza decides on the latter when he sees the fear in [Name]’s eyes gets replaced with confusion.

              They pull away from each other, the demon ready to leave at the first sign of a distressed call and the human frantically wringing her hands the longer they stare at each other.

              “Y-You… um…” she starts, and Akaza hates the absence of terror in her soft voice. “You didn’t happen to… um… eat any of the villagers, did you?”

              “What if I ate one? Can you do anything about it?” Akaza asks back, frustration bubbling in his throat. What is wrong with this human woman?

              “I can’t, but…” A straightforward reply, uttered with the knowledge of her own capacity and limitations. [Name] meets his irate gaze and tilts her head to the side like a confused puppy. “You… um… didn’t answer my question…”

              Gods, he’s disliking her with every word that comes out of her mouth.

              There has been another demon in the mountain before Akaza arrived. It has been quick to depart from its hunting grounds for good upon seeing the words and number carved in his pale yellow eyes.

              “So what if I ate them?” he lies, just so he can get rid of her.

              [Name]’s searching eyes probe his, [colour] orbs deep in thought and Akaza feels as if she is picking him apart – from skin to muscle to bone and down, down to his very core. There’s something to her know, with the way her back straightens, her hands stilling their frantic movements, and the way a knowing smile lights up her face.

              “What’s your name?” she asks this time.

              “Why would I tell you?”

              [Name]’s smile softens and she turns her back to him, probably to go back to the task she’s left behind. Akaza watches as she picks up her basket and faces him once more.

              “So I can properly tell you that you’re lying,” [Name] responds. She bows at Akaza and leaves before he can muster another reply, and the demon forgoes threatening her.

              The weak cower at the sight of any demon, much less telling one that it lies.

              It’s not strength, whatever she has just displayed. Akaza tries to convince himself that as the sound of her footsteps finally disappear. It’s plain stupidity, the never-ending human folly her kind possesses, nothing more.

               (Strength, however, is not restricted to physical capabilities alone.)

--

              Akaza’s target makes the mistake of leaving the protection offered by the wisteria trees in the middle of the night.

              He shadows the human as the latter hurriedly makes his way past the village, the scent of crushed and powdered medicinal herbs strong and bitter in the demon’s sense of smell. The man seems to be on a mission himself, and Akaza decides on killing him after he has conducted whatever business he has to attend to in the middle of the night.

              Accompanying the target is another human, this one old and rather familiar.

              The pair arrive at a humble home near the mountain itself, with Akaza on their tail. After disappearing into the house, the demon perches himself on the nearest tree, his sharp hearing picking up the sounds of the old man’s frantic pleas to Akaza’s target and the familiar coughs and wheezes wracking a frail body.

              [Name].

              Akaza has to stop the confusing urge to come to her side and… what? Take care of her? Because she’s sick?

              Where is this coming from? There is nothing to remember anymore – may it be forgotten memories as a pathetic human or his centuries’ worth of life as a demon. So where…?

              “You didn’t happen to… um… eat any of the villagers, did you?”

              “What’s your name?”

              The complete lack of fear of someone who knows that their illness might take their life at any given moment.

              “So I can properly tell you that you’re lying.”

              (Bravery in the face of death is strength in and of itself—)

              Akaza returns to his hiding place in the mountain. He convinces himself that he doesn’t do it out of mercy for his target. [Name] is proving to be rather… interesting, and having her die from her illness sooner rather than later sends bitterness in the demon’s tongue.

              Tomorrow night, he tells himself. He won’t be so lenient any longer.

--

              With his target dead, Akaza finds himself being summoned back into the Dimensional Infinity Fortress. To his anger, Douma is also present when Muzan demands his presence.

              The second Upper Moon is quick to sling an arm around Akaza’s shoulders, rainbow eyes filled with interest. Akaza is quick to retaliate, swinging a fist to Douma’s face with the intent to kill, when he hears the latter sniff at him like a dog.

              Douma is quick to regenerate his smashed head, laughing at the short fuse Akaza always holds for him.

              “Why, hello to you, too, Akaza-dono!” Douma greets him in that annoying, gentle voice that reminds Akaza of [Name]’s in a twisted way. “I can’t help but notice that you smell faintly of a girl! Well, sort of…” Upper Moon Two lets out a delighted gasp, eyes wide with fake happiness as he gazes at Akaza from head to toe. “Does that mean you finally ate a girl?”

              “I should head back now, Grandfather must be worried about me – will you come, if it’s alright with you?”

              “You didn’t happen to… um… eat any of the villagers, did you?”

              “You didn’t—“

              “Speak again, and I’ll turn you to paste,” snarls Akaza at his fellow Demon Moon, absolute hatred flashing in his eyes at the insinuation, [Name]’s smiling face floating in the forefront of his mind. “I dare you.”

              “Ahahahaha! How harsh! And I thought you’re finally acknowledging me as your best friend by eating a girl—“

              Akaza is stopped short from making good of his word when the sound of Nakime’s biwa fill the atmosphere. The two Upper Moons are quick to fall on their knees when Muzan appears.

--

              It has been a month since he last saw [Name], and Akaza is genuinely surprised that he remembers a measly, sickly human girl when he only devotes himself to remembering the strong.

              Against his better judgement, the demon is back to walking the same trail he’s taken on the few times he has crossed paths with her on this particular mountain. Within the darkness offered by the trees, he is back to watching [Name] do her chores of gathering medicinal herbs. And against that same judgement, Akaza finds himself talking to her and (now) awkwardly rubbing her back whenever she is assaulted by the rasping coughs that shakes her fragile frame.

              He finds it both hilarious and unbelievable, the way he – a demon – freely talks to a human. Inconceivable, yes, but here they are. Talking quietly like lovers afraid to be found out by two disapproving sets of parents.

              Lovers?

              Akaza is stumped by the comparison he has just made.

              With the absence of her presence, Akaza thinks back to the times when his mind drifts back to [Name]. Is she getting enough rest? Is she overexerting herself? Has his previous target’s absence affected her well-being? Is she wandering in the forest, looking for him?

              He’s missed her voice and presence without him fully realizing it, with nothing to trigger his thoughts of her for him to remember.

              Perhaps, in some twisted, capricious way of the gods, he has taken a liking to her?

              “Akaza,” the demon tells [Name] amid the lull in their conversation. He feels her gaze on her so he averts his. “I am Akaza.”

              He risks a glance at her and secretly marvels at the way her smile shines brightly through the pallor of her sickness.

              “Thank you,” she says, and never has he heard his name uttered so sweetly, “Akaza.”

              She must be out of her mind, holding a polite conversation with a demon in the middle of the dark woods.

              No, he tells himself. They both are. And strangely enough, Akaza doesn’t find it as distasteful as he first thought it to be. He doesn’t find it strange anymore when he rubs her back or when he puts his hands on her shoulders to steady her when she coughs. It seems all natural to him now, a long-buried routine he has now come to master again.

              The time they spend together, no matter how brief, opens a new experience for the demon. All his life, he thinks that all he will ever care about is Muzan’s plan in annihilating any and all obstacles in his path.

              He has never anticipated that [Name] already acquires a position in Akaza’s list, quickly and dangerously coming close to getting the top spot.

              “You don’t have to do this for me, you know,” [Name] tells him kindly, and Akaza can tell that there is no unspoken accusation in her words such as you’re a demon, taking care of one sickly human won’t erase the deaths you have caused. He knows her by now, knows how straightforward and blunt she can be just like the day she’s told him that she might die anytime soon.

              Akaza scoffs at her and flicks her forehead, mindful of his strength and the fragility of her skull. [Name] yelps in pain and pouts at him while she rubs her abused forehead.

              “The weak doesn’t have the right to complain,” says Akaza with a scowl. “The only thing they are good for is to submit to the strong.”

              “And yet here you are – a demon looking after a human while she gathers herbs for herself and her grandfather,” she retorts back, her smile crooked with teasing that only serves to prompt a raised eyebrow from Akaza.

              Silence joins their company once more. The sun is sinking in the horizon. Beside him, [Name] looks up at the darkening sky and watches – amazed – as the stars finally appear one after another. He feels one of her warm hands on top of his and he looks at her, quickly captivated by the soft and grateful smile she is giving him.

              “Thank you, Akaza.”

              He goes away to complete another mission, a wordless promise of his return mirrored in the gentle way [Name]’s gaze follows his retreating form into the night.

--

              When Akaza returns to [Name]’s village, the place is busy once more for another festival.

              He seeks her in the place they first met but finds himself bereft of her company. The demon heads to her home to look for her there, but he only finds the old man – her grandfather – offering three sticks of incense to a picture of [Name] in the middle of a shrine filled with flowers. Despite his status as a demon, Akaza knows a little about Hanakotoba, and he is quick to determine her feelings as described to him by what is shown in her shrine.

              Cherry blossoms, reflecting [Name]’s kindness and gentle nature. Peonies for her bravery, in the face of her numbered days because of her illness. Anemone for sincerity.

              Yellow camellia for longing, red for love (and perishing with grace), and white for waiting – for Akaza?

              “You’re always waiting in the forest, day after day and night after night,” he hears her grandfather mutter in grief. “Always talking about an unusual friend who cares for you. And then our woodcutter neighbour finds you dead under the trees with a look of longing on your face. Oh, [Name]… his heart will surely break when he returns to find that you have already crossed the Sanzu Bridge…”

              (Just when he is almost ready to tell her that he cares for her.)

              A strong sense of déjà vu fills Akaza. Has this happened before, him leaving someone he cares about and returning only to find them taken by Death?

              The sight of a single red spider lily – what that lone flower speaks of – in front of [Name]’s portrait has Akaza’s confusion melt into violent rage.

              Never to meet again. Lost memory.

              Abandonment.

              Blood paints the shrine in a violent splatter, and Akaza flees back into his master’s fortress with a promise he intends to fill.

              [Name]’s kindness and soft smiles. Akaza cares for them – cares for her.

              Never again.

.

.

.

[shippindales]

we ain’t ever getting older

HAPPY STACKSON WEEK 2020 Y’ALL I WAITED UNTIL MIDNIGHT.

This is a gift fic for @jacksonstilinskis that was born out of a post from forever ago where she said Closer was definitely a Stackson song and I said oh I’d definitely write that and then LITERALLY FOUR YEARS PASSED and here we are finally making good on that in time for @stacksonweek !

Also I realize my blog is not very friendly on the eyes (I need a revamp) so try the read more but if not I included a link as well.

Enjoy!

AO3

It was the kind of atmosphere that Stiles liked, when he needed to unwind for a bit. It wasn’t a sleazy hole in the wall type of place, nor was it too ritzy or stuffy for his tastes. Ease in the air, good ambiance with the dim lighting and low music, bartenders who got down to business and knew when you didn’t need a conversation, and a decent crowd. Not too bad, all things considered, for a hotel bar.

He nursed his gin and tonic as he pulled lightly at his tie, loosening it enough until it dangled from his neck freely while he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. Wearing a suit would never grow on him, regardless of how his partner insisted that it gave them stature and authority. Miller could blow it out his ass, being federal agents gave them all the stature and authority they needed. But damn, he’d kill for jeans and a t-shirt every once in awhile. He’d have to beg for an undercover op next. 

It was his fourth night at the hotel in Denver, and the stakeout was getting stale. Miller had insisted he take a night off, even called in a reserve agent just to take his spot so that he could blow off some steam. The night was young, and Stiles figured he had a multitude of options ahead of him for where his evening could go.

That was, until raucous laughter started up from the table across the other end of the sparsely populated bar, and Stiles rolled his eyes at the group of well-dressed men that sat around it, their chatter rolling over him until he looked a little more carefully, and caught a very familiar eye.

He nearly spat out his drink, and the glass clattered to the bar noisily in front of him, drawing the attention of the concerned bartender and a few patrons nearby. He waved them off, dabbing at the spill that had splashed onto the front of his shirt with a bar napkin, before he looked back over, and couldn’t make eye contact anymore. He flushed scarlet, embarrassed at the extra attention, and stared at the wall before tipping the glass to his lips and downing his drink in a few solid, full gulps. He signaled for another in answer to the bartender’s unspoken inquiry as she raised an eyebrow and motioned to his glass.

An hour went by in seemingly seconds as Stiles’ thoughts raced. It was obvious he didn’t want to reconnect, or he would’ve said something. Or maybe it was just the crowd he was with, and he didn’t want to draw attention to anything. What if he’d already left? Stiles couldn’t see the group of men clearly from where he was sitting, and a few of them had been in and out, though he was pretty sure he knew which one was him... he frowned. He’d lost sight of him. A dull ache started to form in his stomach that was unrelated to the buzz from his third drink.

“You know, all the ways I pictured we might run into each other, and this wasn’t one of them,” the smooth voice purred in his ear, and Stiles sat bolt upright, spinning around to face him. Jackson fucking Whittemore, in all his three-piece suited glory, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

Stiles froze for a moment, his mouth hanging open, before Jackson’s words sunk in. He looked across the restaurant and noticed that the remainder of Jackson’s table of companions was filtering out the door, and he turned back with a sly smirk on his face. “Too shy to introduce me to your fancy buddies over there? What are you guys anyway, stock brokers?” He raised an eyebrow, looking Jackson up and down.

Jackson didn’t miss the roving eyes, though his shirt was still buttoned up tight and his tie in place, unlike Stiles. He looked the other man up and down himself, before taking a swig of his beer. “We should maybe reintroduce ourselves, considering it’s been awhile. Jackson Whittemore, Esquire.” He held out a hand to shake, a proud smile on his face that put butterflies in Stiles’ stomach.

He gripped it tightly and shook, growing goosebumps on his arm in the process, before pulling out his badge and flipping it open. “Agent Stilinski. FBI.” Jackson’s eyes widened in surprise, and Stiles smirked. “Yeah, I know, I was the hot gossip at our five-year reunion. Which you missed, by the way.” He pointed accusingly at Jackson, his finger poking him in the chest. Jackson didn’t shy away from the contact, leaning over the bar next to Stiles and resting his drink on a coaster.

“Yeah, I missed it. Law school beat the shit out of me. I don’t know why I ever decided to follow in my dad’s footsteps.” He shrugged. “But it’s been a pretty good life so far. And uh, the academy’s done good things for you.” He raised an eyebrow, admiring the way Stiles’ form had filled out since high school. And Stiles knew, he’d definitely grown into the gangly limbs and awkward proportions since he was a teenager.

Not that it hadn’t been a struggle. He’d spent his first few weeks at the academy feeling like he was going to die, but the physical training had gradually honed him into a toned, lean version of himself that he never thought he’d see in his younger years. Regardless, Jackson’s obvious attention to it had him flushing slightly.

The unspoken tension filled the air before Stiles took a deep sip of his drink, setting it down carefully. “You never kept in touch,” he pointed out. It was casual, but his tone implied something deeper. Jackson stared at him, noticed the way Stiles’ eyes wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Didn’t deserve to,” he retorted, which drew a look of surprise from Stiles. “What? I was an absolute ass in high school, dude. And probably even more of an ass in undergrad.” He shuddered. “I’ve grown up a lot. Obviously you have too. But I wanted to be... different, when I eventually got around to reconnecting with everyone, especially you.”

Especially you. And weren’t those pretty words to come from an equally pretty mouth. “Yeah, you were an ass in high school,” Stiles acknowledged, though the response from Jackson was a look of more guilt than he’d been intending to inflict. “But you made up for it.”

The implication turned back time to groping hands, shuttered up in Jackson’s bathroom during a party, mouths and limbs and hardness, heat and release— The blush was equal in both their cheeks. It wasn’t a single occurrence, they had quite the history over the last few years of high school.

“I remember,” Jackson muttered, the barest hint of a smile playing on the edges of his lips. “I didn’t know what I was doing then, though. And I was a dick to you about it. You know, when things got more... involved.”

When feelings got involved. Right.

Stiles shrugged it off. Long since passed, and long since forgotten. His attention instead turned to the earlier part of what Jackson had said. “So you know what you’re doing now?” he inquired, and his amber eyes were peering up at Jackson through those thick lashes that always set him off when they were younger, and god damn were those memories coursing through their veins and making them both feel alive, thrumming to the accelerating tattoo that their pulses set.

Jackson gripped Stiles’ tie, pulling him forward forcefully to capture his lips, ignoring the wandering eyes from the bartender and other patrons, who probably thought they were moving a little fast for a first time meet. He felt Stiles gasp quietly underneath him, the heat pooling in his gut as Stiles’ tongue flicked out gently to trace his bottom lip. They separated, breathing heavily, before Jackson pulled him by his tie a little further, to lean over in Stiles’ ear once more. “Want to find out?”

Stiles dug into his wallet, slapped a fifty on the counter and downed the rest of his drink. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmured, and Jackson followed him out the door before pressing him against the brick wall, humming into his mouth as their tongues danced. “Easy, tiger,” Stiles chided gently, grinning as Jackson nipped down the side of his jaw to his neck.

“Got a lot to make up for,” Jackson muttered against his skin, sucking a deep bruise into Stiles’ collarbone as he shoved the offending fabric of his dress shirt aside. His hand slipped into his pocket and came back with his car keys, clicking the remote. A black Range Rover beeped from the isolated corner of the parking lot, and Stiles looked before rolling his eyes.

“The Rover doesn’t surprise me, Mr. Porsche,” he teased, laughing as he danced away from Jackson’s needy hands and lips, making for the rear passenger side door. “Esquire over here flashing what he can afford.” There was no venom in his words, only joking praise.

“Why are you getting in the back?” Jackson asked, confusion knitting his brows.

“Because so are you,” Stiles retorted, and the mischievous grin spread across his face as he opened the door and hopped in. The grin that brought the memories surging back as Jackson hopped in the backseat from the other side, their mouths clashing urgently as Stiles tugged on Jackson’s jacket, discarding it into the front seat with little regard.

It wasn’t long until their shirts were open, and Jackson was pressing their chests flush together, relishing in the keen that came out of Stiles at the feel of skin on skin. He nipped down Stiles’ neck to drag his tongue along his clavicle, biting down sharply.

Stiles yelped, but felt himself stiffen completely, because yes, this was what he missed. The way Jackson never treated him like he was breakable, trusted him to handle it, and it was something he’d been missing for a long time. He didn’t get around much with his busy life and his federal job, and he felt like a tightly coiled spring finally given the freedom to release.

The way Jackson grabbed his hips bruisingly, like Stiles’d fall through to the center of the earth if he loosened his grip, lit something in him, and he pushed Jackson’s shirt off his shoulder, admiring the tribal tattoo design he found there. He sank his teeth into it, satisfied with the way Jackson threw his head back and moaned at the contact.

“Stiles,” he interrupted, but Stiles paid no mind, kissing his way down Jackson’s hairless chest as he pawed at his hardness through the front of his suit pants. “As much as I’d love to fuck you in my backseat, I think we need a bed.”

Stiles came up for air, after kissing down Jackson’s abdomen. He shrugged his shoulders, nipping at Jackson’s lower lip lightly. “Fine then, Whittemore. Take me home and take me to bed.”

The door slammed behind them minutes later, after Jackson had broken nearly every traffic law in the state. He yanked at Stiles’ shirt impatiently, pulling it off of his arms before their mouths were back in contact, shrugging off his own shirt as their clothing fluttered, forgotten, to the floor. Searing heat and the clash of rushed, hurried teeth filled Stiles’ consciousness, as Jackson’s hands roamed down his sides and slipped underneath his waistband, palming Stiles’ ass impatiently.

“Fucker,” Stiles growled into his mouth as he arched his back into the touch. Jackson reached down and grabbed him around the waist, hauling him up until Stiles’ legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. He threw the other man unceremoniously on the bed after shoving into the bedroom, and Stiles collapsed in a pile of limbs before turning onto his back, sighing gently. “Your mattress is comfy,” he complimented, a stupid grin slapped across his face as he shimmied out of his pants.

“My law school roommate in Boulder ditched the last month of rent. I changed the locks and stole his furniture.” Jackson’s belt whipped off lightning quick as he shoved his own pants and underwear to the floor, his cock springing free of its cloth prison. He hissed as it met the cool air, and Stiles licked his lips as they collapsed back together, hands and mouths fumbling deliciously.

After a few moments, Stiles scrambled down the bed to swallow him to the hilt in one fluid motion. Jackson hissed as Stiles’ tongue flicked out around the base of his shaft as he took him into the back of his throat. “Jesus fuck, your mouth, Stilinski. Missed it so much.”

Stiles pulled up and off of Jackson’s shaft with a wet pop, before smacking it lightly against his cheek. “Guess you’ll just have to make up for lost time then.” He ran his tongue from base to tip, swirling it around the head before delving back down, and Jackson pulled his own hair to keep from yelling to loudly at how fucking incredible it felt.

Stiles hummed around his shaft, bobbing to the base and back to the tip to swirl his tongue in the way he knew drove Jackson nuts. The humming sent deep vibrations through Jackson’s flesh and he let out a ragged, broken moan.

The taste and feel of him bombarded Stiles with memories of the first time he’d ever sucked Jackson’s dick, denial radiating through the other boy even as he’d twitched in anticipation, letting out a rough breath as Stiles finally took him in his mouth.

“Do you like it?”

“Shut up and keep going.”

Jackson was growing impatient, and he finally pulled himself out of Stiles’ mouth, reaching down to throw the other man further up on the bed, stomach down, receiving a yelp of protest which quickly died on Stiles’ lips as Jackson kissed down his back to his ass, biting sharply into his left cheek. His breath ghosted over Stiles’ hole, and okay, yes, this was a thing that they’d never done together before that Stiles was 120% on board with.

“Are you seriously going to ahhhhh fucking shit Christ Jesus,” Stiles babbled as Jackson’s tongue flicked out and laved at his rim like a man starved, both hands palming Stiles’ ass and spreading his cheeks and yeah, okay, Jackson had picked up some tricks since high school. Yup.

His sensitive hole was twitching under the ministrations of Jackson’s tongue, and Jackson hummed as he pressed his tongue inside the taut ring of muscle, eliciting a sharp sound from Stiles that he wanted more of. A finger joined his tongue, then two as Stiles relaxed under his efforts.

“God, I can’t believe I’ve never opened you up like this before,” Jackson panted. “You’re so warm and open, so good for me.” His praise was radiating through Stiles’ bones as he pressed his hips back.

“I need you,” Stiles groaned. “Need to feel you again. It’s been— god, too long, not enough, just— just do it.”

Jackson nodded, moving to obey and flicking open the bottle of lube he’d nabbed from his bedside table, spreading it over himself quickly before pressing into Stiles, slowly but persistently.

Stiles’ eyes screwed tight as he breathed in and out sharply, the burn of Jackson’s breach stretching him in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. “Fucking holy hell, forgot how thick you were,” he breathed, pressing his face into the pillow desperately as he rolled his hips back to take Jackson further.

Jackson paused, for a brief moment, to give Stiles time to adjust. That action alone sent a shock through Stiles’ body. Jackson had never been about how Stiles felt, their clandestine hookups throughout high school had always been about Jackson getting off, but this— this was different, and Stiles felt it, felt the consideration and respect.

He responded by pressing his hips back into Jackson, hissing as the burn reignited but slowly began to dissipate. “Move,” he commanded, and Jackson obeyed.

And this, this was what Jackson had missed the most. “God, the way you look spread out around my dick,” he groaned, fucking into Stiles with earnest, staring down at the way Stiles’ hole gripped his girth each time he slid out.

“Shit, Jacks,” Stiles grunted, slamming his hips backwards to meet Jackson’s thrusts, all earlier thoughts of tenderness abandoned. “God, I forgot how good you felt in me. It’s been so long. Always so fucking hard and rough with me. Fuck.”

Jackson’s hand cracked down onto Stiles’ ass, drawing a yelp and leaving an angry red handprint. He spanked him again, twice more, three more times, causing Stiles to let out a long, sharp series of moans. “Fucking take it,” Jackson bit out, pummeling into him rapidly.

Stiles’ talk devolved into senseless syllables and nonsensical babbling as he felt the pleasure coiling in his gut. “Mmmm, f-f-fuuuuck, I’m gonna— I’m close, I—”

Jackson halted, reaching down with both arms and flipping Stiles over onto his back in one smooth motion, bending his head to bite roughly on Stiles’ bottom lip as he pushed back in, holding him around his waist with his legs in the air as he jackhammered in at a punishing pace. “Want to see it,” he panted against Stiles’ lips. “Want to see you let go, see how taken apart you are when you come.”

Stiles came with a shout, spurting copiously all over his chest, his eyes screwed shut and fists tangled in the sheets. Jackson followed him over the brink, moaning loudly as he shoved to the hilt and spilled himself inside Stiles.

Collapsing on the bed next to him, they both laid for a few moments, Stiles’ head lolling over onto Jackson’s shoulder. Their breathing was still heavy, though their pulses began to slow after having finally reached their peaks.

“So,” Jackson began, running his finger through the mess on Stiles’ abdomen and popping it into his mouth before pulling it out with a pop. Stiles’ eyes followed him, blown wide and dark. “Made up for lost time?”

Stiles nodded, grinning wildly as he ran his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. “It’s a start.”

A start. Jackson nodded, breaking eye contact as a smile spread across his face.

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

He traced his fingertips around Jackson’s abdominal muscles absentmindedly, leaning his head into the crook of the other man’s neck. Jackson’s eyes were lightly closed, satisfied after their round the next morning. They were resting quietly, the morning light filtering in through the taupe curtains and spilling warm rays of sunshine across their mostly still forms.

“Would things have been different?” Stiles asked quietly, prompting a soft, questioning hum from Jackson, who kept his eyes closed, but rubbed circles into Stiles’ shoulder with his thumb. “If you weren’t a dick in high school, I mean.” The implication behind it left Stiles feeling vulnerable, and he swallowed it down thickly.

“Maybe,” Jackson admitted, turning to press his lips gently into Stiles’ hair. “I can’t change who I was then. I wish it could’ve gone differently, though.” The unspoken differences echoed in the silence, and Stiles pictured what life could’ve been like, in another world.

“What about now?” he asked, voice uncertain. There was no indication that Jackson had wanted this to continue, that it was more than just a rekindling of an old flame, destined to wither and snuff out as it had before.

Jackson was silent for a moment too long before responding, and it twisted Stiles’ stomach up in knots. “What about it?”

“Is it too late?” Stiles asked. He was unable to form the words, unable to ask directly for fear of putting himself too far out there. Something about this just felt like the universe was pointing them in the right direction for once, and he needed to know now if it was never going to happen.

“Do you want it to be?” Jackson asked.

He blinked, the answer clear as day. “No.”

A small smile played at the corner of Jackson’s lips as he looked down at Stiles. “Then it’s not too late.”

The sun’s rays splayed out gently across their skin as Jackson pulled him closer.

“Good.”

[dragonnan]

16, 17 and 19 for the most recent ask thingy, should you feel the mood sway you. 😁

The mood will ALWAYS sway me lol!

16. Describe your WIP that currently has the highest word count.

Simon and Simon and Psych (Psych/Simon & Simon) Word count: 24,323

So this one, in spite of not being updated in YEARS, is a story I’m still absolutely on fire to resume because I’m just thrilled af about the concept. It’s a crossover between 2 series I love - Psych and Simon & Simon (an 80s Private Detective series).  What excites me most about it was the reimagining of Simon & Simon for the modern era while still retaining all of the things that made the characters what they were.  

A little back story on Simon & Simon as I feel more people will be less familiar with that series of the two.  The series is about 2 brothers who decided to open a detective agency together after the younger brother, AJ (Andrew Jackson), left the larger detective agency where he had been working for several years.  

AJ is blond, surfed a great deal as a younger man, attended law school, and was considered the “golden child” growing up somewhat sheltered and cherished and maybe a tad innocent of the world.  When his brother went to Viet Nam, AJ took part in the peace protests - primarily because he was terrified for his brother and wanted to do anything he could to make the fighting stop.  AJ tends to be the more mature of the brothers - nearly always wearing a suit and usually takes lead in dealing with clients (assuming Rick doesn’t interrupt him).  

Rick, the older brother, left home after they father died and bounced around from various interests, including being a biker for a time, before going to Viet Nam.  He would come back from the war with a boatload of PTSD and a very fierce drive to protect his younger brother (probably far more so than he’d even felt prior to Viet Nam but to be clear - Rick is VERY protective of AJ).  All of that, however, might take the casual observer by surprise as Rick is incredibly irresponsible (on the surface) and nearly always in a good mood or quick with a joke.  Just don’t threaten baby bro other their mother.  Really, just do not.   

So that’s a bit of backstory so I can mention my changes for the modern era.  Instead of Viet Nam, Rick is now a veteran of Desert Storm.  They now both carry cell phones instead of relying on pay phones or other land lines.  They have a website.  I’ve updated their cars.  Before, AJ drove a red Camaro T Top so I changed that to a 2008 Chevy Corvette.  Rick, in the series, drove a 1979 Dodge Power Wagon so that one... did not change lol!  I seriously cannot picture Rick in any other vehicle. 

So after ALL OF THAT there’s actually a story in progress...

The plot thus far is that the Simon brothers are in Santa Barbara because AJ is running in the annual Half Marathon (an actual one cause I do like to blend some real events with my fiction lol).  While in town, Rick goes to run an errand - picking up an item his buddy Carlos had shipped but wasn’t able to pick up himself because Carlos is... sketchy (an actual character from the series that we hear about anecdotally from Rick).  Meanwhile, Juliet and Lassiter are at the shipyards as well, having set up a sting on suspicion of drug activity.  So, of course, when Rick goes to collect this item for Carlos, he ends up being stopped by the cops who confiscate the item after finding it filled with drugs and they arrest Rick.  THIS, then, is how the crossover comes into play as Shawn, of course, horns in on the investigation and immediately suspects that Rick is being setup so he volunteers to help out the Simons.  Various things happen which ultimately leads Shawn, Gus, and AJ back to the shipyards and a suspicious warehouse (aren’t ALL warehouses suspicious?) where suspicious men are rapidly emptying it of product.  The 3 men get caught and are bundled off in the back of a suspicious vehicle to a suspicious location.  At about this time Rick is let out on bail (thanks moooom....) and in a panic as he hasn’t heard from his brother.  When he realizes AJ must be in trouble, he ends up tentatively joining up with Juliet and Lassiter who are trying to find Shawn. Nobody is entirely thrilled with being teamed up in either group...

And this is roughly where things stand after the last update!     

So after I’ve subjected you to all of the above, how about a snippet from chapter 1?

___

Shawn Spencer spun slowly in his father's chair – maintaining just enough speed to make a full revolution before kicking himself into another circuit.  Typically he enjoyed his time at the station, provided he wasn't behind bars or being subjected to an interrogation.  Okay, scratch that.  He did enjoy an interrogation provided his hot pants girlfriend with a personal pair of handcuffs was the one dressing him down.  He leered. He didn't even have to try to make that sound dirty.  

Right.  Back on the subject at hand. Naughty cop Jules would, sadly, have to wait until they could have some private time.

If they could have some private time.  Of course, the way things were going lately...

And that brought him back full circle to his original beef.

Dad was being cagey. Like, Nick Cagey complete with diminished mane and sneaky covertness. Sure, he pretended he wasn't being covert but his dad sucked almost as bad as Lassie when he tried to fake acting casual. He was way too sour in the shorts to pull off that level of none chalice.

Like now, the old man was going for coffee. Like anybody with half a badge couldn't see right through that act. Shawn pulled together a mild sneer as his dad returned to his desk.

“Really? You put sugar in that too?”

His dad didn't look at him as he set his coffee on the desk. “Stop glaring at me. And get the hell out of my chair!”

Shawn didn't budge. “I am on to you.” He enunciated with immaculate exaggeration.

“The only thing you're on is my chair. And too many Pop Rocks; I thought Gus had cut you back to one pack a day.”

“I'm allowed two packs on the weekend.”

“It's Wednesday, kiddo. Maybe it's time you invested in a calendar.”

“Well maybe it's time you invested in hair plugs!” Shawn paused as his father crossed his arms. The pointing hand dropping back to his lap. “Too Terence Stamp? Sorry, I was caught up in the moment.”

“What do you want, Shawn?”  Giving up on patience, Henry opted for shoving his son until he toppled out of the chair.  Ignoring the yelp when Shawn flopped to the tile, he scooted closer to the desk so he could pull up the report he'd been working on.  Fingers just coming to rest on his keyboard, he scowled at the active game of Pitfall taking up his screen.  He tapped a button but rather than taking him back to the SBPD mainframe, it caused the character to jump into the green shapes he assumed were meant to be alligators.  Behind him, Shawn gasped.

“You just killed my last guy!”

“Be grateful that's all I've killed.” Slapping a few more keys he finally found the right combination to get back to his report.  

Still sitting on the floor, Shawn drew up his knees up and propped his chin on both fists.  Not even managing to type a single word, Henry sighed and swiveled towards his moping son.

“What, Shawn?”

Now that he had the desired attention, Shawn pushed his lower lip out the tiniest bit.  “Jules is busy and she said I can't help with the stakeout cause it's “super stupid important, Shawn” and Gus won't let me borrow the blueberry so I can follow her cause deep down inside I know she wants me to help cause, please, like I don't always make a stakeout better – I mean, who else is going to remember to bring an extra container of cheese dip for the nachos because one cup is just never enough and believe you me you do not want to short cheese a guy packing tear gas...”

Henry held up a hand to cut off the ramble that could easily go on another five minutes.  With his other hand he rubbed at his aching eyes.  Of course Shawn would find out about the sting.  However, Chief Vick had been adamant about keeping him out of it.  Henry had actually lobbied for including his son on the details – the memory of the last big operation that had temporarily cost him his job was not an easily healing wound.  Rather than even attempt reconstructing the word barrage of bitching, Henry latched on to the least pointless detail.

“Where is Gus anyhow?  I thought you two left an hour ago for dinner.”

Shawn shrugged.  “I don't know for certain...  I mean, by now he could be anywhere.  He's always expressed an interest in touring with Alicia Keys...”

“Shawn.”

“We went to Taco Louie's and he insisted on the deep fried beef and bean mini burrito...”

Henry raised his hand again.  Enough said.

“Well whatever you were thinking, I'm still not talking the Chief out of her decision.  You're bored?  How about you work on the burglary case I gave you.”

“Daaaad... the Redbox robberies?” Groaning, Shawn flopped on his back and sprawled dramatically. Officers passing back and forth shot glances at the display and Henry rubbed his face in embarrassment.

“Dammit, Shawn, get off the floor! You look like an idiot!”

Shawn sat up but didn't stand.  Nor was he ready to let go of his latest complaint.

“Come on!  Dad, Redbox?  That is so... not sexy!”

17. Describe a fic that is still in the ‘ideas’ stage.

This one is an Iron Man character exploration regarding Tony’s relationship with Obie and that, with hindsight, he realizes Obie had been grooming him.  It will never cross that crucial line but the potential leaves Tony reeling.  This will be in the same universe as another short fic titled “Simple Math”.  Here’s the bit of writing I’d put together so far:

_____

He'd thought it was bonding; at the time.  His dad had never been one for just hanging out; shooting the shit; telling tales out of school.  No, Pops, when he bothered to interact, led with questions. ��“You keeping your grades up?” “You still seeing that floozy?” “When are you going to pull your head out of your ass and grow the hell up?” “You do realize it's my name you're disgracing every time you go on a bender?”

With Obie it was just, easy.  Obie might ask about school but it was always with approval and pride.  He would discuss Tony's conquests as though Tony had climbed Kilimanjaro wearing nothing but underwear and a cape.    

Obie was there when his father wasn't. Which meant that Obie was always there.  The first time he got astoundingly drunk on his father's scotch, Obie was the one to help him hunch over the toilet and vomit expensive, aged booze into the toilet.  Obie was also the one to replace the depleted bottle to keep Howard in the dark.  For a fourteen year old kid still trying to gain his dad's favor, that had meant everything.

He saw his first porn with Obie; sex education ala Traci Lords, three months shy of his fifteenth birthday.  That was the same time he was introduced to weed.  Obie had cautioned him to use it sparingly; didn't want to fry that genius brain, he'd say, and ruffle his hair.  The porn had made him uncomfortable.  Obie had turned it off and told him they could watch whatever Tony wanted.  They'd ended up changing the station to Knight Rider; smoking and munching Cheetos and laughing over their orange fingers.

It was Obie who was there, arm around his shoulders, after his parents died.  He desperately didn't want to sob in front of the man.  Things were so complicated with his dad that all he felt was blinding guilt... as though some part of him had caused this.  But Obie had filled him with bourbon until the emotions got soft around the edges and he'd sat beside the older man, head tipping gradually to the right until he was held up by Obie's bicep. Obie had just slung and arm around him and let Tony pass out while he rubbed a broad hand up and down his arm.

It was strange, now, looking back with adult perspective.  A perspective that included Afghanistan and his intended execution and Obie's arm around his shoulders while he talked about legacy and responsibility while Tony's lungs slowly seized.  He'd taken the time to sit there – arm around Tony's shoulders while one broad hand traveled up and down Tony's bicep – just like when he was a kid and Obie was the whole world.

He'd tried to remember if it had felt so tainted... at the time.  Or if he'd always believed it was love.

Obie had never quite crossed that line. Though hindsight offered a peek into that possibility with enough clarity Tony had fought with his cramping gut for nearly thirty minutes.  He'd staved off vomiting though he was fairly certain his dignity had still been in tatters what with Bruce wandering in on his misery.

19. What’s your favorite character headcanon?

Gosh... It’s funny that when asked the question the first thing that I ponder is “what head canons?? what are characters??? Do I even watch tv???” So I needed to ponder a bit.

As far as it goes my favorite head canons are not typically ones that I myself have come up with.  And going with that maybe the best one I know is for the series, and character, Sherlock.

I’m am 100% all in on Sherlock being on the autism spectrum.  Yes, I know this is attributed to MANY characters but consider the fact that those reasons have a ton of validity.  Sherlock has very strong indications of being on the spectrum and having read quite a number of essays on the subject, many of which were written by people who are also on the spectrum, I’m completely convinced.  It’s to the point I don’t even like calling it a “head canon” as that implies it’s only a fan concept and therefore has less likelihood.  It just feels so deliberate with that character.  

So going off from that I would say, in a more general sense, my favorite head canons are they type where we can discover neurologically atypical traits in characters - especially heroes.  Too long anyone neurologically divergent is portrayed either as a victim or, FAR FAR worse, as the “crazed villain” and frankly that is disgusting.  So it is beyond refreshing to suddenly have this amazing, brilliant, layered person who also displays autistic traits.  In going back over characters that I’ve loved most there are many who have traits of this sort that, only in hindsight, do I recognize.  Just a few off the top of my head; Malcolm Bright, Shawn Spencer (100% ADHD), Rapunzel, Rick Simon (remember him? lol), Adrien Monk (his OCD was very deliberate), as well as characters who’ve developed trauma after horrific events such as, well, most MCU characters but particularly Tony Stark and Stephen Strange.  Malcolm Bright also very much was built from trauma but I also am convinced there are neurologically atypical traits at play.  

Thank you so much for the great ask!!        

[huilian]

with her sweetened breath

AO3 Characters: Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne

Summary: With the threat of an airborne drug, the Batfamily has to fight against the clock to contain it.Or, I found a plot hole in a previous fic and decided to write 5k of words to remedy that, but instead created much, much more plot holes.

A/N: In Flameo, Batman! I wrote about how Oracle can only narrow possible locations to 5, which means that the kidnappers are actually good, but then I didn't deliver on the fight scene. So I decided to write this, and ends up with 5k of the batfam actually being detectives. This is written almost in a S.W.A.T. like style, because my dad is obsessed with that show and so I watch it too.title from Hozier, Angel of Small Death and the Codein Scene. I thought it's fitting, since this fic is about drugs. (This is Chapter 1, btw.)

“Hey, Red, is it important? I’m kind of in the middle of a stakeout.” As he says that, Dick sees movement from inside the house. He really cannot keep talking to Tim, not if he wants to get as much information from this stakeout as possible. But Tim rarely calls in the middle of patrol, so Dick is assuming that this is important.

“Oh. Not really. I just want to give you a heads-up about B’s kidnapping a few weeks ago. Turns out there’s more to it than just the kidnapping.”

Dick curses under his breath. He knows that that rescue attempt was too easy for an organization that managed to fool Oracle. “Okay. Do you need me there? I can wrap this up in a few minutes if you need me.”

“Nah, I think between Hood, BB, Batgirl, me, Robin, and Batman, we pretty much got it covered. Just keeping you in the loop.” 

“Alright, Red.” If Tim says they can handle it, then they can handle it.  Besides, Dick has his own cases to work through. “Thanks for the info. Call if you need help?”

“You’re welcome, N. And sure, I’ll call if we need help.” 

“Nightwing! Get your ass here now!” 

“Hood? Is something wrong?” It’s been a few days after Tim calls about Bruce’s kidnapping, but since there were no other calls about that, Dick assumes that they are handling it.

“Oracle’ll brief you on the way, she’s currently tied up in something else. Just get your ass here now,” Jason practically shouts to the comm. 

“Is this about the kidnapping case?” Dick asks, just to be sure. 

“Just get your ass here, Dickwing! We need you here yesterday!”

“Shit, is it that serious?” Dick grabs the keys to his bike from the table. It’s lucky that he’s staying in today, working on connecting leads to the murder case on Young Street. If he’s out on patrol, it would take much longer to get to the bike.

“Oracle’ll give you the full briefing in a couple minutes. I’m also currently in the middle of something…” 

Two explosions, one after the other, come in from Jason’s end. It was loud enough to be heard over the comms.  

“Hood, are those gunshots?”

“Like I said, I’m currently in the middle of something. Just go to Gotham, we’ll meet you at the Cave.”

“Be careful, Hood.” 

“Yeah, yeah, see you there, ‘Wing.” 

“Yeah.” Tim shrugs. “Their original plan was to distract us, GCPD, and basically the entire city with Bruce Wayne’s kidnapping. We found broadcasting equipment in the warehouse B was held in. But we rescued B fast enough that they couldn’t really use his kidnapping as a distraction, so now they have to find a new distraction.”

“And their new distraction is to blow up the bridge? Haven’t we been through this before?” Dick remembers another case that he works with Tim that involves blowing up the bridge. He is not looking forward to repeating that. 

Tim grimaces. “You have to admit, blowing up the bridge is a pretty big distraction.” 

It is a big distraction. Not that Dick is going to admit that now. “How do we know this again? And how did we miss that they are part of a larger group?” Dick turns to Babs, who hasn’t stopped typing into the Batcomputer since he got here. 

“Since I am very rarely wrong, I found it suspicious that I found five hits to the possible location of B’s kidnapping, considering how easy you took them out.” That was Dick’s thought too, but he didn’t actually stick around long enough in Gotham after they ‘rescued’ Bruce that he got to say that to anyone. He could blame his abundance of cases in Blud, but he really should have said something. Thank god Babs also finds that odd. “I sent Steph to investigate the four ‘not-it’ warehouses. She found traces of this drug there. It’s a more potent version of fentanyl, almost up there with carfentanil. It has a similar composition to the bloodwork from an OD case a few months ago.”

“We thought it was just a guy experimenting with fentanyl and accidentally OD-ed himself, so we didn’t dig too much into it then,” Tim explains. 

“I’m guessing that is not the case here.”

“No.” Tim sighs. “That guy was actually part of the group that kidnapped Bruce. He either stole some for himself and misjudged the dosage, or he was the guinea pig for this drug. We have no time to investigate his death now, not with this new drug threatening to spill on the streets tonight.”

“Tonight? What are they planning?” Dick came to Gotham prepared for any situation, so this information that he is going to have to act sooner rather than later comes as a confirmation rather than information, really. He’s been preparing himself for it as soon as Jason called him. But still, it would have been nice to have been called for something that’s not as immediate as tonight once in a while. 

“They’re going to release this drug to the air. They have an airbender, which makes it so much easier for them,” Babs says. Airbender plus airborne drugs equals very bad news, especially with drugs as potent as carfentanil. It can cause hundreds of OD cases throughout the entire city. Is Gotham not already crazy enough for these people? “We think that they want to get the entire city hooked on this drug, then sell it to them at a very high price.” 

“Damn. Tonight, you say? Is there why it’s only the three of us here?” 

“Yeah. B’s with Cass and Damian coordinating with the GCPD on containment and evacuation.” Tim points to three dots, designated Batman, Robin, and Black Bat, on the GCPD building up on the map. 

“Smart. Cass and Damian may be the only ones capable of containing this kind of scenario.” 

“Steph and Jason are out on the docks, trying to scare some of the goons to giving up their boss’ location.” Tim points to another two dots. These two are actually moving pretty fast. Dick assumes that the two of them are chasing some goons. 

“Wait,” Dick frowns, “we still don’t know their location?” That can’t be good. 

“We figured out the locations of some of the caches they put to be released to the air, but we can’t guarantee that that’s all of them. And, considering the sizes of the warehouses that were used to store the drugs and the caches we’ve found, there’s still a significant amount of drugs missing. Those must be with the boss,” Babs says. 

“Which is why I’m here with Babs, trying to track them down. Also, it seemed that this drug is flammable, so I thought it’s prudent to stay out of the field.” 

Tim actually has remarkably good control over his fire and he can fight just fine without his bending, all of them could, but Dick currently does not have time to debate that. He files it in his mental note for a later date. “Okay, what do you need me to do?” 

Babs and Tim look at each other. “A third pair of eyes won’t hurt,” Tim says.

“Don’t you think it’s better for him to be out on the streets? Hood and Batgirl haven't checked in yet, they might be in trouble.” 

Right as Babs finished that sentence, the Cave’s speaker turns on. “Hood to the Cave, Hood to the Cave.” 

“Speak of the devil,” Babs says. 

 Dick presses the mike button on the cave, then says, “Come in, Hood.” 

“Oh, good, you’re here, ‘Wing. O, Red, we got several locations, but they’re all contradicting each other. I don’t know how useful this is going to be.” 

“Any additional data is going to be useful, Hood. Where is it?” Babs opens a new window on the Batcomputer, ready to type in and analyze everything Jason is going to say.  

“One said that he’s on Crime Alley, 31st Street. Another one said he’s camping near Arkham, just a few blocks from it. One said he’s on the grounds of Gotham U.” 

“Fuck him very much for that, by the way. Who tries to release drugs on university grounds? Haven’t college students suffered enough?” 

“Focus, Batgirl.” 

“Right. Some of them said he’s on Robinsville, but some also said he’s on the Bowery, King’s Street. For all it’s worth, all of them seemed very sure about their answers, and they’re all also confused about why their fellow henchmen are giving out different answers.” 

“How sure are they?” Tim asks. 

“Sure enough that the firebenders are willing to get iced,” Jason says grimly.

“Damn.” 

“Yep.”

“How come this guy is in five places at once?” Babs frowns at the screen. “Maybe these are just decoys?” 

“No, I don’t think so, Babs. For a firebender to be willing to get iced, they must be super sure of themselves. Even I don’t want to get iced.” Tim shivers. Dick knows for a fact that Steph has once iced Tim, so Tim is speaking from memory at that one. Dick has been iced before too, but the experience is totally different for a firebender, what with their source of power being the fire inside and all. “Oh, that reminds me. Hood, please tell me you didn’t actually ice them.” 

“Nah, Replacement.” Tim sighs in relief. “Blondie here did.” 

“What!” Tim exclaims. 

“Shut up, Hood! I can and will ice you too!” 

“Try it, Blondie. I’m a waterbender too, remember?” 

“Children, focus,” Babs says. “Let’s assume that this guy is in five places at once. How is he doing that? Meta powers? Spirit world connection? If he has a spirit world connection this case might just turn out to be worse than it already is.” 

“Wait,” Dick says, tracing the five places Babs has highlighted on the map. “What if he’s not in five places at once?”

“Are we not acting on the assumption that the henchmen are giving accurate information?” Babs looks at him. 

“It can be accurate without him being in five places at once, Babs. What if he’s just moving between these places so fast that when they check in to see where he is, they all get different answers?” 

“Huh. That is certainly more plausible. But the speed in which he must have moved suggests that…” 

“He’s an airbender. Only airbenders can move that fast. It tracks, though. We already know they have an airbender to release the drug. That airbender is just the boss.”

“If he’s the airbender, he can make sure that he inhaled none of the drugs himself. Oh!” Babs claps her hands. “That’s genius, Former Boy Wonder!” 

“Hey, I’m a former boy wonder too!” Jason cries out. 

“Same here!”

“I literally had the longest run as Robin, after N here,” Tim adds.  

Babs sighs. “You guys really are children, aren’t you? Someone not me please tell Batman about this. I’m going to run an analysis on airbenders outside the League who’s in Gotham right now. There shouldn’t be too many of them.” 

“Speaking of the League,” Dick turns to Tim, “are we sure it’s not them?” 

“I don’t think so, ‘Wing. This is not their MO.” 

“Yeah. Besides, neither Talia nor Ra’s have any interest in these kinds of drugs. I don’t think it’s them.” 

If both Tim and Jason, their current resident expert on the League, say that it’s not the League, then Dick is inclined to believe them. They have spent a considerable amount of time with the League to not pick up on their tendencies. “Okay. Let’s rule out the League for now. Any hits yet, Babs?”

“No. There are still quite a few airbenders around, even discounting the League, you know?” 

Dick nods. Even though most of the airbenders are present in the League, there are still several groups outside of the League who have their own airbenders. Not to mention the occasional airbenders who’re not affiliated with any of the groups but still managed to master their craft. 

Then, the Cave is bathed in red light, with alarms sounding from all the speakers in the Cave. 

Dick curses. “What’s that, Red?” 

“It’s Bruce’s alarm. Whoever he is, he’s making his move now.” 

“Alright, Hood, Batgirl, head over to B’s location now. I’m also moving out right now. Red, you coming?” 

“No, I’ll look into containment options other than airbending from here. I’m not risking a city wide fire.” 

Dick nods. He really needs to have that conversation with Tim about why he doesn’t want to go out to the field today, but that unfortunately has to wait. “Oracle, keep us posted. B’s in GCPD headquarters, yes?” 

“That’s what his last location is. His tracker is down.” 

“What about Robin’s? Or Black Bat’s?” Dick asks. 

“They’re still at GCPD.” 

“Okay. I’m heading to GCPD now. Hood, Batgirl?” 

“Already on our way, ‘Wing!” Steph says. 

“Good.” Dick mounts his bike and zooms out of the Cave door that either Tim or Babs must have opened for him. He tries to hail Bruce on the way to GCPD. “Nightwing to Batman, Nightwing to Batman, come in.” 

Silence. 

Dick tries again. “Nightwing to Batman, Nightwing to Batman, come in!” 

The same as before, silence. The fact that both Batman’s tracker and his comm are down is very concerning, especially at nights like this, when Bruce knows he has to communicate with the entire family. 

“Shit. Oracle, Batman’s not answering. When did his tracker go down?” 

“His tracker went down right before he pinged the Cave,” Babs says. “Try hailing Robin. I’ll hail Black Bat. Maybe they know where Batman went.” 

“‘Kay, O. Nightwing to Robin, Nightwing to Robin.” 

Static. At least it’s not silence, which meant that Robin still has his comms, he just can’t reach it to answer. That’s marginally better. Still not reassuring, though. 

“Oracle, I’m getting static from Robin’s com.” 

“I’m getting the same thing from Black Bat’s com. Maybe they are in the middle of containing the drugs? That would make them unable to answer the coms.” 

Dick wills his bike to go even faster, even as he’s already riding at breakneck speed. “Maybe, O. Let’s hope it’s not something worse.”

[cptn-stvngrntrgrs]

[fic] that’s my wife!!!

Relationship: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff

Title: that’s my wife!!!

Summary: 

Detectives Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff are rumored to be dating despite being married to different people. Well, at least they got the married part right. Wanda really should’ve asked first.

aka the b99 au no one asked for.

for @scarlettjuicehansson​, thank you for sending this prompt! i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you like it! i’m so sorry this took so long ;-;

The detectives’ floor of the 72nd precinct was buzzing with activity as usual. However, instead of getting actual work done, the detectives were merely entertaining themselves with anything but work.

Instead of its usual place in the middle, the desks were pushed to the side to make room for a bucket. A few of the detectives were sitting on their desk chair a good 20 feet away from the bucket, next to a bin full of crumpled paper. The game they settled on for today is fondly called “trash basketball”. The participants were to shoot papers crumpled into a ball into the trash as much as they could in a span of two minutes.

So far, the competition was a tie between Detectives Tony Stark and Scott Lang, who both managed to land 12 into the bucket.

“Now get ready for your minds to be blown,” Detective Sam Wilson challenged, rolling his chair to the spot Tony just moved away from. Tony and Scott moved to the sidelines, smug grins all over their face, as the timer for Sam’s turn to start rang out.

Detective Natasha Romanoff let out a sigh and rolled her eyes, shifting her weight from one leg to another as she stood on the other side of the commotion. She doesn’t mind the fun things they do, she really doesn’t, but their boss will be back soon and they should really get started on work.

She heard a laugh beside her and turned to look at Wanda Maximoff, the secretary of their boss, looking at her. “Don’t give them that look. You know they’ll only make it longer if they notice you’re getting impatient.”

Natasha huffed a breath of air out, letting her lips curl into a smile after. “I just have a feeling that this is going to take them a while.”

She felt someone stand beside her and smiled at Sergeant Maria Hill as she faced the game in front of them. “I can tell them to stop, if you want. Knowing Tony, though, it won’t be pretty," she said with a chuckle.

Natasha and Wanda joined in on the laughter, both shaking their heads as they continue to watch the game. Although things like this are the norm in their precinct, admittedly, it is still very much an inappropriate waste of time. However, they were lucky to have a very understanding boss who lets them get away with this sort of things.

A couple of minutes later, just as Scott was chanting something along the lines of rematch, the elevator dinged and out came Captain James Rhodes and another man next to him. Captain Rhodes, called Rhodey by everyone, stopped and stood behind the bucket and cleared his throat.

“Fun morning?” he asked, his voice serious. His eyes, however, betrayed his tone, as everyone can see the teasing glint and look he threw his officers.

“The best. We’re sorry you missed it,” Tony shot back, winking at him. The two have been friends since joining the force together all those years ago - meeting at the academy.

Rolling his eyes fondly, Rhodey held a hand up. “I have an announcement to make. As you all know, we had to rearrange our staff when Detective Daisy Johnson asked to be moved to another department,” Rhodey nodded at the empty desk. “Her replacement is Detective Steve Rogers, who came from the 88th precinct. Please make him feel welcome and at home,” Rhodey eyed everyone pointedly, clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder, indicating for him to say something.

Steve gave everyone a warm smile and stepped forward. “As Captain Rhodes said, my name is Steve Rogers and I’m really excited to be working with all of you from now on. I look forward to getting to know everyone!” He bowed his head slightly as he took a step back again and looked at their captain.

Rhodey just shrugged and dismissed everyone, walking back to his office. Steve followed along for his briefing while everyone cleaned up the floor.

“He’s so hot,” Natasha heard Wanda fawn and watch the girl stare at Steve through the blinds of Rhodey’s office. Wanda looked back at Natasha, who just gave her a shrug.

--

“How’s your day going so far?” Natasha asked as she approached Steve who was eating his lunch in the breakroom.

Steve smiled. “I didn’t get as much work done as I usually should have in the same timespan, but it was actually pretty great.”

Natasha snorted and finished chewing her sandwich before answering. “Stark bothering you?”

Steve shook his head, pondering over the question. “Not bothering, per se. I think he’s just an energetic man. Scott too.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Definitely better than the old guys at the 88th though,” Steve assured her. Natasha chuckled.

“Of course we’re better! I’m surprised the city still haven’t forced half of those guys to retire already,” she joked. A comfortable silence fell upon them as they continued eating their respective food before someone approached them.

“Hi Steve! Welcome to our precinct! I’m Wanda, Rhodey’s secretary,” the girl extended a hand and Steve stood up to shake it. “Oh, what a gentleman,” Wanda gushed, shaking his hand a bit too long before taking a seat next to Natasha, who eyed her weirdly.

Steve sat back down as Wanda did. “Rhodey has told me about you! It’s nice to meet you.”

Wanda chuckled, nodding. “Likewise. So Steve, how are you liking it here so far?”

Having neatly putting his lunch away, Steve leaned back on the chair before answering. “I really like it here. I think this is one of the most fun days I’ve had in the office,” he confessed.

“Really? Nothing much really happened today, though. You should’ve been here when Natasha and Scott arrested a bunch of guys selling fake drugs. The ones who complained were so mad -” she cut herself off, giggling and shaking her head. “You should’ve seen it. It was a complete circus…” she trailed off, a happy glint in her eyes.

Steve chuckled. “Well, I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy my time here a lot,” he teased, winking at Natasha before standing up. “Wanda, I’m sorry to have cut our introductions short, but my break’s over and I have to go.”

Wanda pouted playfully. “Til’ next time I guess.” She smiled and waved at him as he went around the table and out of the break room. Once he was out of sight, Wanda breathed out a sigh and slumped in her chair. “My statement still stands - he’s so hot.”

Natasha laughed in acknowledgement and took another bite of her sandwich, pulling out her phone to look through it.

“Such a shame though, he’s wearing a ring - I think he’s married,” Wanda continued, a dreamy look on her face. Natasha hummed in agreement, used to Wanda’s fawning over the detectives. She almost cried when Sergeant Thor Odinson moved to Special Crimes; her favorite eye candy slash human puppy slash office sweetheart being gone. It seems that she’s moved on to Steve to fill those roles.

--

Two months into the working at the precinct, Steve found his transfer to the 72nd to be superb move. First of all, he gets to be with Natasha for a huge part of their day - and although they’re not really the type of couple who’s into PDA nor are they partners on the job, he enjoys seeing her when they’re both in the office. It also helps that they carpool every morning, though he does miss taking his bike.

The people he works with are also very warm, welcoming, and fun. Tony, Scott, and Sam took it upon themselves to brighten up the precinct everyday. He knows not to mistake their fun nature, though - he’s worked with them as a team, and boy, are those three brilliant detectives! Natasha and Hill’s duo, Steve assumed, is the most productive in the precinct. They’re focused most of the time, and keeps the boys in check. But of course, they let their fun side out once in a while to join in on the fun.

Steve took the morning off to go to the dentist and arrived at the precinct at lunch. He brought Chinese food for Natasha, knowing it’s her favorite. He dropped it off at her desk and she gave him a tired smile, only then glancing at the clock and noticing that it was past 12.

“You haven’t eaten yet?” Steve asked, nodding at the pile of papers in front of her.

She shook her head and leaned back in her chair, looking up at him. “Nahhh, I haven’t got the time. I need to finish these to give to Rhodey by the end of the day.”

“Come on, I’ll sit with you while you eat your lunch. Take a small break then just come back for the rest,” he encouraged, holding out a hand. She smiled, rolling her eyes, and took it, walking to the break room. Steve smiled at Tony and Scott who were sitting at their desks and waving at him, briefly glancing at down at Natasha’s hand in his.

Steve sat with her as she ate, neither of them in a rush to go back to work. Sam is still out from his stakeout that started that morning and hasn’t returned yet, so he doubted that he’ll be on a case with his partner gone. “I’ll help you with some of your paperwork, if you want. Sam’s not here yet.”

Natasha thought about it while chewing her food before nodding. “Hill’s supposed to help, but she and Rhodey has been on some meeting the whole morning, I’m not sure what time they’ll be back.”

Steve nodded along and ate some of the shrimp Natasha fed him, listening to her talk about filing the paperwork for a meticulously long case that she and Maria just solved.

“Oh, I didn’t see you guys there,” Wanda’s voice rang out, in a tone that meant that she definitely saw them in the break room. She was standing in front of the vending machine, but looking at them.

“Hi Wanda! Rhodey back yet?” Steve asked nicely, smiling at her as Natasha continued eating her food. Wanda shook her head and looked at her watch.

“He should be back soon, though. Do you need him for anything?” she tilted her head and took a step towards the vending machine, glancing at it while waiting for Steve to answer.

“No, not really. Just wondering,” Steve replied and Wanda hummed, choosing to get M&Ms and paying for it.

“If you do, just let me know!” Wanda smiled sweetly at them before walking out of the room.

Steve and Natasha stayed in the break room while waiting for their partners; neither really in the mood to work just yet. Natasha was feeding Steve shrimp and laughing when he’s moving around, making her chase him, when someone cleared their throat. Steve promptly ate the piece Natasha was hovering over his lips as Natasha cocked an eyebrow at the person at the door.

Maria Hill was standing there with a smirk, arms crossed over her chest. “Oh, you’re back. Give me a second and I’ll be with you; we’ll just clean up here,” Natasha told her, smiling.

“You go ahead, I’ll take care of this,” Steve said. Natasha tilted her head at him, about to protest, when he shook his head. “It’s okay, really. Sam’s not here yet anyway.”

Natasha shot him a grateful look as she stood up and joined Hill, who’s still standing at the doorway, an unreadable look on her face. “What is it?” Natasha whispered as they made their way back to their desks.

Hill just shrugged, looking down at the files on her desk. “Nothing,” she replied, her tone teasing. Natasha rolled her eyes fondly and took a seat at her desk, both of them starting on their work.

--

Steve was loading the precinct’s van with equipment that is needed for his week-long stakeout with Sam. He’s been getting along very well with Sam after working with him for a while now. This stakeout requires that they stay in their hotel room the whole day for a week, and both of them prepared for this with tons of video games and movies since they’re not allowed to bring phones or contact to the outside world unless it’s for an emergency. The criminal they’re tracking down is known as a paranoid, and the last thing they want is to be ambushed after showing up on some kind of radar.

“It’s kind of a bonding experience, really,” Steve told Natasha the night before, which got him a snort in return.

“I bet by the end of the week, you guys will be ready to rip each other’s throats out,” she teased, making Steve roll his eyes.

“I’ll miss you,” Steve said softly after a few minutes of silence as they watch TV. Natasha turned to him, a sad smile on her face, and cuddled close to him until she fell asleep. Steve secretly likes it when she falls asleep on him on the couch because that means he gets to carry her - bridal style - back to their bed.

Steve slammed the doors of the van shut and just stood there, panting. “I’ll miss you too,” he heard Natasha whisper behind him, making him turn around to see her. She was hugging herself with her arms, a small smile playing on her lips.

He stepped closer to her and took her in his arms and felt her wrap her arms around his waist and her falling on his chest. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. This would be the first time either of them would be away on an assignment for this long, and although she hates to admit it, Natasha is feeling a bit anxious about it. The criminals they’re trying to catch has been on their radar for so long but kept managing to escape, making them dangerous.

Natasha hummed and pulled back, standing on her tiptoes to peck Steve’s lips before stepping away. “Just… be careful, okay?”

Steve chuckled and stepped closer to her to kiss her one more time. “Always, babe.” He gave her a wink, making her smile and roll her eyes as she turned around to go inside the precinct, nodding at Sam as they passed by each other.

“What’s up with Romanoff?” Sam asked as he approached Steve.

“She’ll just miss me, is all,” Steve laughed, getting into the driver’s seat as Sam went in the passenger’s side. Sam narrowed his eyes at Steve, who returned his look with confusion.

—

“Psst, Natasha,” a voice called as Natasha was walking to her desk. She frowned, looking around for the source of the voice. Truth be told, she’s tired. Steve has been away for four nights already and she’s been getting more and more restless each night without him. She saw the door to the evidence room to be ajar and decided to check it out.

When she got in front of the door, her arm was yanked in by Wanda, who shut the door immediately once she’s inside.

“What the hell, Wanda!” She whisper-yelled. She loves Wanda, she really does, but she’s just not in the mood for her antics right now. She leaned down on the wall opposite the other girl, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I’m only telling you this because I love you, so don’t be mad okay?” Wanda said in a low voice. Natasha stared at her, trying to decipher what she’s going to say, before nodding. “I think you should stop seeing Steve.”

Natasha stood up straight, frowning. “Wanda, I’m-”

“He’s married, Nat!” Wanda cut her off, eyes wide. “We don’t know to who, though. Rumor has it that Steve doesn’t bring her here because, well. She’s either ugly or she’s a bitch, maybe both,” Wanda shrugged nonchalantly, chuckling.

Natasha’s mouth fell open. What have they been talking about in the precinct?! And where have they been getting this from? Who in the world started the rumor that Steve’s wife - her - is ugly? And a bitch!

“Wanda,” Natasha said slowly, trying to recover from her shock. “Where did you hear this from?”

Wanda merely shrugged a shoulder. “People talk.” Natasha shot her an unamused look, making her sigh. “Okay, fine! Me and Fury’s secretary downstairs may or may have not looked him up on Facebook and we saw a photo of him with this blonde. It’s old, I think, because he looked younger. But that was his profile photo so we just assumed that he married her or something,” Wanda explained, looking down at her nails to hide the blush that spread on her cheeks.

Natasha pondered that for a minute. Steve doesn’t use Facebook anymore, not since he and Sharon broke up around 7 years ago. Huh. That photo is probably her with him then. Natasha can’t help but to let out a laugh - they really thought Steve is married to Sharon. And that she’s ugly and a bitch! Which aren’t true, of course. Steve and Sharon had a mutual breakup and occasionally, the four of them - with Sharon’s husband - would go to brunch together to catch up.

“And aren’t you married as well? To a cop, right?” Wanda piped up, as if she forgot about that information until that moment. Natasha didn’t answer, thinking about what to do. She could tell Wanda the truth, of course, or she could play with it. She doesn’t really talk about her personal life all that much - her coworkers mainly know about the basics. They know that she’s married - not to who, that she has a house - not where, and that she has a cat - who they probably know more about from the pictures she shows them.

Natasha didn’t really realize that her relationship with Steve is not public. Looking back to the couple of months Steve has transferred here, the two of them didn’t really bother announcing their status to the precinct; they just went on with their normal lives and routine. However , she really is curious as to what lengths her friends are willing to go to stop the two of them from dating. So she decided to play with it.

“Yeah, I am.” she admitted to Wanda, who threw her a disappointed look, shaking her head mildy. Natasha sighed dramatically, “Why did you even think that I’m dating Steve?”

Wanda rolled her eyes. “Everyone practically saw you two being all lovey-dovey the day he left, you know. Seriously, kissing in the open! What if both of your spouses see you! Tsk-tsk,” Wanda crossed her arms. “And do you really think we don’t notice how you two are always together? You guys aren’t even partners yet you spend a lot of time together here.”

Huh. Natasha didn’t even realize that last part. And she kinda feels bad by playing along - Wanda looks thoroughly distressed with their situation. “But Wanda, I love him,” Natasha confessed, biting her lip. “He just… makes me happy, you know? He completes me.”

Wanda sighed, striding across Natasha to put a hand across her shoulder. “That’s good and all, but I don’t know… maybe talk to him? It’s just, you guys are married to different people. I’ve been cheated on before and I hated that feeling. So please, do something about this, okay?”

Now, Natasha feels really bad. But alas, she’s already in too deep; might as well finish it.

--

Day six of Steve and Sam’s stakeout was surprisingly quiet. They’re both tired and anxious for the 24 hours left to finish so they could go home. So far, there has been no activity on the criminal they have under surveillance, so sadly, it looks like they have to complete the entire 7 days.

Steve sighed, lying on the bed after his shift of watching. Sam, who’s now perched next to the window with the binoculars, glanced at him. “I can’t wait to go home,” Steve groaned into his pillow.

“Mhm, must be nice. Going home to a loving wife and all,” Sam quipped.

“Yeah, I miss Nat,” Steve said with a dreamy look on his face, trying to imagine Nat’s reaction when he comes home tomorrow. Sam frowned at him, walking up from his spot to stand in front of Steve. Steve looked up at him. “Yes?”

“You know, Rogers, I never perceived you as someone who would cheat on your wife. How could you say that! You miss Natasha more than your own wife? Have you really no respect for her at all!?” Sam’s voice was low but he was seething. Steve gets to have someone to welcome him home - his wife - and he should be grateful! All that’s going to welcome Sam is a stack of unopened mail.

Steve opened his mouth to say something then closed it again. After pausing, he sat up straight, trying to stop himself from laughing. “Hold on, hold on. Are you saying that I’m cheating on my wife with Natasha?”

“What’s so funny, you bastard? Of course that’s what I’m saying! Unless you have more side-chicks we don’t know about!” Sam blew up. He’s getting crankier and crankier by the minute.

Steve tried to compose himself. Clearing his throat, he motioned for Sam to sit on the edge of the bed, and he did. “Sam,” he started, “I’m marriedto Natasha. Natasha is my wife.” Steve confessed, saying the words slowly so they could sink in. Sam stared at him, unable to form words.

“No way, she’s married too!” was all Sam could muster up. Steve rolled his eyes and grinned.

“Well, I better hope so because she’s my wife,” Steve teased.

Sam blinked at him. “For real? You’re not shitting me?”

“Sam, when have I lied to you, man? I told you - I don’t lie.”

“Oh, so you just hide the truth, then?” Sam retorted.

Steve thought about that for a moment. “I don’t think we hid the truth, per se. We’re not really big on PDA and obviously, office PDA is inappropriate. I don’t know why we never got around to telling people about us. Natasha’s very private, and even though she loves all of you guys, you’ve never been to our house, right?” Sam shook his head. “Yeah. Now that I think about it, I guess that was one big detail we didn’t get to announce when I transferred. We really just went on with our normal routine and I guess we just didn’t get to telling you guys about it,” Steve smiled.

“You think?” Sam replied, finally smiling. “If that’s the case, then I’m happy for you. You guys are so cute together.”

Steve laughed, patting Sam on the back. “Thanks, Sam. And for the record, I would never cheat on Natasha - god , no, I can’t even think about it - and I never did with my past relationships.” Sam nodded, feeling a whole new kind of respect for Steve - he knows he’s a man of his words and he felt bad for thinking so negatively about him in the first place. Well, can’t blame him - he didn’t know; and those two are so cute, what was he supposed to think about!

Thankfully, a couple hours after their little confrontation, the suspect showed up and a deal was about to go down. From what they learned over the past few days, this is the big transaction they were supposed to stop. They immediately called for backup and proceeded with the bust.

When the rest of the 72nd got there, they went on with the raid and successfully stopped the transaction. They got to confiscate a whole container van full of weapons ranging from guns to small bombs - smuggled by the man they were hunting for.

“Good job you two. Take the day off after this,” Rhodey said, walking past Steve and Sam and squeezing their shoulders. Steve and Sam patted each other on the back and chuckled. The six days and a half were rough - they had tense moments, but after it’s all over, they were good and ready for their day off.

Steve saw Natasha talking to Hill and Wanda, who for some reason, came with them. He walked away from Sam and went towards Natasha, hugging her from behind. He wrapped his arms around her waist and bent down to kiss her cheek before perching his chin on her shoulder. “I missed you,” he whispered to her ear.

Natasha giggled and tilted her head to the other side so she could peck his lips. “I missed you too,” she replied, threading her hands into his that were resting on her stomach.

The look of shock and confusion on Wanda’s face made their display of PDA so, so worth it. “Natasha, didn’t we already talk about this?” she gasped in horror. Always the drama queen, Wanda.

Steve raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s wrong with telling my wife that I missed her?”

Wanda stared between the two then at Hill, who’s very calmly watching with a smile on her face. Wanda waved a finger between Steve and Natasha. “You two are… married… to each other?”

“Wait, wait, wait, who’s married to who now?” Scott interrupted, joining the group with Tony and Sam trailing behind.

“Steve and Natasha! They’re married to each other!” Wanda exclaimed.

Tony looked taken aback. “Red’s married to him? I thought you said Steve’s wife looks like a bitch .”

“And ugly,” Scott added, much to Wanda’s chagrin.

“Natasha is neither of those things,” Tony concluded.

Steve straightened up but kept his hold on Natasha. “Who said that?” he asked. Everyone looked at Wanda.

Wanda looked like a doe caught in the headlights. “I swear, I didn’t know you’re married to Nat! I saw a girl on Facebook-”

“Oh, that’s probably Sharon! And hey, she’s nice and pretty! She’s an ex, but we’re cool now. That photo was years ago. I don’t even use Facebook anymore.” Steve chuckled. “Anyway, we’re sorry; we really should have informed you all sooner. We didn’t really think too much about making a big deal out of it. We really try to separate ourselves from each other when it comes to work because we have different systems and routines.”

Wanda slowly nodded. “Wait, but your last names-”

“Legally, my name is Natasha Romanoff-Rogers. I just go by Romanoff to make it easier for everyone.” Natasha answered with a shrug. “And Wanda? I’m sorry for lying to you.”

Wanda pouted for a moment. “It’s okay. It’s my fault that I gossip,” she threw a shy smile. “And I’m happy you guys are together, you’re really cute!”

“Alright, now that that is settled, we have to go back to the precinct. Come on, let’s go,” Hill spoke up after a minute of silence. They laughed and everyone made their way back to their cars.

“You can ride with me, I drove myself here,” Natasha told Steve. He still has his arm around her waist, with Natasha tucked to his side as they were walking.

“Okay, I’d love that,” Steve replied, leaning down to give her a kiss. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the key of the van and threw it to Sam. “You drive.”

Sam caught the keys and made a face. “Aw man. Now that we all know about them, they’re going to be all sweet now and I’m going to be the only single one left.”

Maria bumped Sam’s shoulder with her own. “You’re not the only one,” she whispered suggestively as she made her way to her car with Wanda.

[byronblogs]

fluffy sherlock or stephen strange x F!OC or reader (whichever works best for you!☺️) ? thank you so much!

So, it's finally done! I will admit, I don't usually enjoy reader insert stories, however, I don't have an OC to use, so I just did an insert fic, but I ended up really enjoying writing this piece! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. (Sorry about the formatting, I don't know why Tumblr does this with the spacing when I copy-paste from Google Docs.)

This is going to be the first in a series of many requested fanfics, and while I have next week's request already chosen, I would love it if you all sent in more!

Summary; When Sherlock gets stressed so much that he can't think, his client, Y/n, takes it upon herself to make him relax.

Calm Down, Detective!

    The case was tirelessly boring. Sherlock would have solved the thing in seconds if it hadn’t been so reliant on timing. His mind was left unoccupied during the stakeout, and he had assumed it would remain that way, the case leaving him annoyed and unsatisfied. He had, however, been wrong. While Sherlock had been staking out the location with the case’s victim, Y/n, John had been kidnapped. 

    Sherlock took Y/n back to the flat so he could go over the information to try and figure out what had gone wrong, afterall, she was safer there with him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t figure out what the missing puzzle piece was, that had been the whole point of the stakeout, but, after John had been taken, he had to abort.

    “Ugh! It doesn’t make any sense!” Sherlock screamed out, throwing the book he had been holding across the room.

    Y/n flinched at the noise from the previously silent detective, whipping around to see him absolutely fuming, no, panicking. “What do you mean by that?” Y/n asked calmly, regaining her composure as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked over. 

    “You said this man was a robber. He took your mug, the expensive one. Why would a robber of something so specific bother to kidnap one of the detectives? It doesn’t fit!” Sherlock was pacing as he spoke, bringing his hands up to his chin only to fling them down again.

    “Are you…” Y/n began, “Are you worried about him?”

    The room fell silent for a moment as Sherlock paused to look at her incredulously.

    “Worried? Why would I be nervous? John can handle himself, Y/n.” He grumbled. For a man that knew everything there was to know about liars, he was pretty terrible at it himself. 

    It was fair, in the end, he had always been so closed off from everyone, so when he loses the man that had pulled him from that loneliness, it made sense that he would be more than a little concerned.

    “You know, I’ve read a lot about you two on his blog, the two of you seem to have a pretty strong relationship, its okay if you’re a little worried.”

    “I’m not worried.”

    “Oh, bull.” Y/n laughed, prodding at the tall man’s stomach playfully. 

But he flinched away from the poke, a brief expression passing over his features. Once again the room was silent. 

    “What was that?” Y/n tilted their head to the side.

    “Nothing, what was what?” Sherlock gulped. His entire demeanor had changed. 

    Y/n paused for a moment, staring him down before prodding him again, watching his face this time. Same reaction, only, was that a smile?

    “Sherlock Holmes, are you ticklish?” Y/n chuckled, the detective’s face going red.

    He tried to back away, only to be followed as though he was being stalked, until his back found the wall, that is. 

    “You know, I think I’ve got you figured out. You think so clearly, even under pressure, right up until your dear soldier is in trouble. 

    “That is ridiculous.” He defended bashfully.

    “Oh, then why can’t you think?” Y/n laughed, “I think it’s time you relax.”

    “And how do you intend to make me do that?” he frowned.

    “Take a wild guess.” Y/n laughed, cracking her knuckles, waiting for his eyes to widen in recognition before lunging at him, joyfully kneading her fingers into his sides, cornering him against the wall as he folded over.

    “Wait, Y/n waIT! NO! Nohohohohoho! Gehet ohohoff!” He cried, trying to catch his tormentor’s wrists only to miss as she started tweaking his ribs.

    “Nah, I don’t think I will, after all, you need to relax to be able to think clearly, just hold your horses.” Y/n laughed, continuing to count his ribs slowly as he clamped his arms to his side, no longer able to defend himself as he leaned into the wall and sank to the floor.

    “Y/n, plehehehehease! Enohohough! This- Thihis is Chihildihihish!” Sherlock’s smile was wide and bright, his face crinkled in helpless hysteria as he fell to the side, Y/n continuing to follow his body with her fingers with little effort.

    “Alright, well, my hands are a little stuck, so you’ll have to lift your arms up.” She smiled deviously, slowing her tickling to the occasional tweak.

    “Lihiar!” Sherlock cried, tucking his chin to his chest and curling up, flinching at every tweak.

    “Are you sure about that, detective?” She giggled, “don’t you want the chance?”

She had been right, Sherlock couldn’t think clearly, especially while under this kind of torture, however, his thinking had cost him greatly this time, as she stopped tickling and settled down to stratle his thighs. 

    “Easy tiger, just getting comfortable while you think.” She chuckled as she gently pressed her fingers into his ribs. 

    “Fine.” Sherlock conceded hesitantly, releasing the hold he had on her hands, relief washing over him as she removed her fingers.

    The relief was short-lived, however, as she placed her hands on his hips instead, drilling her fingers in as soon as they touched down.

    “Y/n!” Sherlock gasped, folding up before falling down and arching his back. 

    “Sherlock!” she cried back.

    This time, Y/n refused to stay put, letting her hands jump around without order throughout her assault. A flutter at his neck, a swipe to his side, a pinch to his rip, a claw at his stomach, a dig in his underarms. Sherlock couldn’t keep up, and instead was forced to cackle helplessly under her fingers. She then did the unthinkable. She leaned down and whispered in his ear, breath and nose granting his ear some very tickly attention. 

    “So, detective, are you ready for the fun part?” 

    He had barely registered the words before she took a large breath and blew a raspberry on his neck, receiving the most adorable panicked giggles one would ever hear.

    “Y/n! Nohohohohohoho! Gahahahahaha! G-Gehehet ohohoff!” He cried, grabbing her shoulders and weakly pushing at them, unable to properly control his muscles in his wild squirming as his legs kicked out wildly.

    “Aww! That was fun!” She vibrated a claw-shaped hand into his belly, “But you can laugh more than that!” 

    Sherlock tried to escape to his mind palace, his efforts proved useless as he was dragged back with a drill to his lowest ribs. “Oh Gohohohohod! Enohohough! Plehease!” 

    Y/n looked down at the normally stoic detective, his hair messier than normal, face bright red, eyes teary and crinkled, yet bright nonetheless. He shoved at her shoulders and kicked, pushed at her wrists and twisted, it was hilarious.

    “Just a little while longer, I’m not done with you yet.” She chuckled, receiving a whine through the laughter. 

    That was fixed when she started to gently tickle her fingers under his shirt, letting it ride up his chest as she moved. Sherlock’s giggles turned panicked. 

    “Remember what I did to your neck?” Y/n whispered into the detective’s ear as she dragged her nails over his abdomen, bringing forth goosebumps.

    “Nohohohoho!” Sherlock protested, squirming weakly.

    “No? Let me remind you then.” She chuckled, burying her face in his collarbone and blowing a wet raspberry, receiving a shriek of panicked snickers. “I’m gonna do that to your belly.” She whispered in his ear again, relishing in how he scrunched his shoulder and turned his head away.

    “Dohohohon’t!” He giggled, his face looking years younger.

    “Who said I was asking you?” She giggled, dragging her nose teasingly down his abdomen until her breath hit just above his belly button, struggling to avoid laughing herself as Sherlock quickly lost the remainder of his composure, squirming weakly in anticipation. 

    “Are you ready?~” She smirked, speaking into his stomach and getting a flinch. He shoved at her head, but the treatment had weakened him considerably. 

    “Noho!” 

    “I’ll count you down then.” She stated. “On three. One… Two… “ She paused until Sherlock had scrunched his eyes and grabbed a hold of her hair. “Three!”

    It was a larger breath than she thought she could muster, but she used all of the air she took in, blowing a long raspberry before decorating his belly with short bursts all over, digging her thumbs into his hips all the while. When she finally stopped, the detective had a few tears staining his face and a smile that seemed to be stuck.

    “How was that?” She laughed, sitting up and placing her hands on her legs. Sherlock took a few giggly breaths. 

    “You might be the worst villain I’ve encountered yet.” He breathed.

    That had Y/n laughing. 

    Sherlock was released and Y/n went to get him a glass of water, smiling when she found him in a chair. “Sorry if I overstepped, but you needed to chill out.”

    “Not to worry.” He stated quietly, “It actually may have worked. I think I have it, come on.” He had composed himself rather quickly, leaving the full glass on the coffee table and dragging Y/n to the door. “Oh!” He paused, grabbing the woman’s wrists and getting a little in her face. “If this gets out to anyone there will be hell to pay, got it?” He frowned, looking her in the eye.

    The young woman was hardly intimidated. “Our little secret, detective.” She winked, tweaking his side and walking out the door.

[amyscascadingtabs]

let’s write a story, be in my book

i wrote a waterpark fic for you all hope you enjoy this little piece of nonsense fluff xoxo

read on ao3

Amy has to admit she loves the waterpark.

Whatever misunderstandings about major viewpoints in life it took for them to make their way here, she's secretly happy they did; her husband’s goofy smile the moment they drive into the parking lot strengthens her faith that she made the right decision. In going to the waterpark, for one, but also in marrying the one man who somehow can make a vacation among overpriced ice cream and unhygienic waterslides feel nearly as dreamy as their honeymoon.

It's been too long since she used the sleek red bathing suit she purchased over a year ago. From the way he looks at her when she steps out of the changing room - the way his cheeks flush and his eyes darken with desire for a second - she can tell he agrees. They may be at a park with kids and families everywhere, hardly at an appropriate location for sneaking away, but she promises him tonight with a whisper in his ear and he groans something inaudible into her shoulder which makes her laugh.

Laughing, to be fair, is a substantial part of their activities for the first of the two waterpark days they settled on. A year into their distracting, childish marriage, Amy’s finding it always seems to be. Day after day he makes her laugh; constantly for new reasons and rarely for ones she expects. They race against each other on the slides, and his puerile victory gesture the first time he wins makes her lose it so hard she forgets to move aside and is nearly knocked in the head by the unknown seven-year-old riding after her. They compete about who can hold their breath longest underwater, and she giggles at his gutted grimace when he loses. They get ice cream, hers salted caramel and his cookies and cream, and share frustrated laughs over how quickly it melts. They kiss with melted ice cream on their lips. They get back into the water once they’re ready, racing against each other in the swimming lanes this time, and she can’t help but chuckle when she wins for the third time in a row. Then, just as she thinks she has the upper hand in their childlike competing, he tickles her without warning and she’s in stitches again as she fails to get out of his grip.

She gets to spend the rest of her life with him. If the waterpark - and the years she’s known him preceding it - is any indication, and it’s true what they say about laughter prolonging your life, Amy’s harboring a growing suspicion that she might live forever.

There is, however, a significant difference in this vacation. It is one she understood was unavoidable after the emotional conversation at their anniversary celebration, but it still has her taken aback, making her wonder and worry at the same time.

Parents with young kids seem to be overrepresented at the waterpark. They're hanging out on the sunbeds, chasing wild toddlers around in the crowds and trying to stop them from falling, playing with buckets and foam toys in the kiddie pools. Jake looks at them for longer than he used to do, regarding first the kids and then how their parents act around them. He's using the same observant gaze as he would at a stakeout, but she thinks he's smiling. He seems to drift away in his head each time, and for once, Amy has a hard time reading him.

She always figured he wanted kids as much as she did, and interpreted his behavior around them and his enthusiastic responses to what she thought was luculent hints about it as clear-cut evidence of them being on the same page. Now she knows she was partially mistaken. Even though he eventually admitted to wanting them with her after a little bit of time, there’s a biting fear in her heart of him changing his mind, or god forbid, not meaning what he said in the first place. She trusts him wholeheartedly - but as well as she knows him, she still can’t read his thoughts or know for sure what he’s thinking.

They’re sat at the edge of one of the pools, dipping their feet and people-watching, when her curiosity gets the best of her.

A short distance away, a man about their age with dark blonde hair and grey swimming shorts is playing with a child Amy assumes to be his son. With luscious curls and an ecstatic grin as he’s being gently pushed around in a swimming ring with turtles on it, the kid is downright adorable, and she tears her eyes away for a moment only to notice the smile on Jake’s lips as he observes them.

“Hey.” She places a hand on his shoulder, warm from the sun, to draw his attention to her. “What are you thinking about?”

“Oh.” He blushes. “Doesn’t matter, it’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“Well, just - the future, I guess”, he confesses with a bashful look. “I had an idea.”

“I love your ideas”, she blurts out too fast. “Well, I mean, some of them. I’m still not one hundred percent convinced about your idea of building a Die Hard-inspired headboard which looks like Nakatomi Plaza for the bed.”

He gasps, feigning upsetness. “That was a great idea and I stand by it. But no, it wasn’t what I was thinking of.”

“What were you thinking of, then?”

“Traditions.”

“Traditions?” She frowns. “What do you mean, like holidays?”

“More like random ones. You know, I never really had proper ones with my family, but I was always jealous of the kids who did. So I thought…” Jake looks at the laughing toddler, then back at Amy. “Maybe this could be one of ours when we have kids? The waterpark. We could go every year, and it could be this family thing, and… I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “I told you it was silly.”

Of all the things he could have been thinking of, this didn’t cross her mind - yet it warms her heart, awakening the butterflies in her stomach when she’s reminded of the unsurpassed thought and reality of the love of her life wanting - at some point - to start a family with her. It doesn’t make her cry, but it’s not far from it, and if they weren’t surrounded by a sea of strangers she would do more than press a chaste but sweet kiss to his lips.

“I didn’t know you were thinking about what it’d be like. Us and kids.”

“I am now”, he tells her. “It’s kind of overwhelming, and a lot, but I like it.”

“Really?”

He nods. She dangles her feet, creating waves in the water. “I’m happy to hear that.”

“I still need a bit of time”, he reiterates. “A few more months at least. But I do want it with you, even if it scares me half to death. All these kids and families around here - they’re cute, you know?” She beams in agreement. “I know it’s cheesy, but looking at them and thinking about having that with you… it makes me want it, Ames, for real.”

She’s uncertain what to say, how to describe the exuberant happiness in her chest when he tells her this, so she hugs him instead. His skin is warmer than usual from the sun, making him even more the personal heater he already is to her, and she never wants to let go.

“That makes me so happy”, she whispers in his ear before retreating, still making eye contact as she delivers her promise. “And yes. We can go to the waterpark every year.”

His face lights up. “For realz?”

“Maybe not if we have a newborn”, she laughs, “but after that, yes. Let's make it a tradition.”

“It's already my favorite one.”

This time, he kisses her - a little longer than she'd call ideal considering their audience, but she's not complaining - soft but with some purpose, interrupted first when one of the kids on the other edge of the pool spots them.

“Mommy! Those people are kissing!”

[trynnabemultifandom]

Jake Peralta x reader

I'm obsessed with b99 and Jake is my fave character. it's my first time writing a b99 fan fic so idk if it's gonna be good

I joined the 99 exactly 4 months ago. when I first came here, I was scared that I wasn't going to fit in with the other detectives but that wasn't the case. my first day on the job Captain Holt had made sure that I had a warm welcome from everyone.

Flashback to the first day

"Everyone in the briefing room now" Holt announces "he always sounds so stern" Gina mumbles. when everyone was in the briefing room, Holt assigned people with their cases for the day and then introduced you to everyone

"I would like to introduce you all to the new member of the team. detective (L/N)" I walk into the briefing room nervously after the captain had announced who I was. I decided to bite the bullet and introduce myself "hello my name is Detective (F/N) (L/N) and I'm glad to be a part of the team" I scan my eyes around the room to check out the other detectives and my eyes land on a fairly good looking detective sitting at the back of the room

"Peralta, because your old partner quit, Detective (L/N) will be your new partner" I follow the captains eyes to see who he's talking to only to see he's talking to the good looking dude at the back. my eyes are still focused on Peralta wondering what his next move is gonna be. he remained seated for a few moments after the captain paired us up. I see him smirk while looking at me, he finally gets up and walks over to me and the captain

"so what's our case today captain?" he's silent for a moment looking at a file "local drug bust, will probably have to be a stakeout" Peralta and I both nod and thank the captain. before I can say anything else, Peralta had already snatched the case file from the captains hand and dragged me with him to the parking lot. Once we were in the car Jake decides to talk again "first day on the job and you're spending it with the best Detective in the precinct" he has a cocky grin "oh really? where is this 'best detective'?" he looked slightly offended "I'm kidding, I know you're the best Detective in the precinct" he smirks "good, just don't let Santiago here you say that"

a couple of hours into our stakeout, I notice a van pull up ahead of Jake's car "jake look" I pull on his arm to get his attention "finally some shits going down" me and Jake grab our guns and vests from the back and slowly get out of the car and walk up to the van "it's empty" jake says. I walk over to the side jake was as and look up at the building "guess we have some door duty to do then" as I'm walking away I hear jake mumble something under his breath "what was that Peralta?" "oh nothing, was just talking to myself" I smirk and lightly chuckle

We finally get to the floor that our perp is on, now it's just a matter of how we're going to do this. Jake knocks on the door "NYPD open up" nobody answers the door but I hear something being knocked over. I push jake back and kick down the door. I see two men struggling to put the drugs in the bag "NYPD FREEZE" I shout. one guy surrenders with his hands up and Jake goes over to cuff him, while the other guy is a bit more difficult. I put down my gun to show him I'm not going to shoot and reach for my hand cuffs. before I can get them on the guy, he punches me in the face

I see Jake looking at the scene and when the dude punched me, that made jake mad. he went over the the guy and handcuffed him "you are under arrest for attempted drug smuggling, resisting arrest and assaulting a fellow police officer" I can't help but admire jake while he's doing all of this. as he's reading the rights I go over the already handcuffed perp and bring him out to the car. when they were both in the car, Jake turned to me "hey are you ok?" I nod "yeah, it's just a hit" jake chuckled "(Y/N), you got a punch to the face. at least let me check it over once we get back to the precinct" I sigh "if it makes you happy then ok" he smiles "good"

Back at the precinct, after people had congratulated me on my first arrest, jake had brought me to the break room to clean up the cut on my lip "thank you Doctor Peralta" he chuckles "this might sting" he gently takes a hold of my chin and tilts my head so he can clean my lip. the cold tissue comes in contact with my lip and I flinch a little "sorry" I chuckle a little "it's ok, it was just cold" while I have this opportunity, I take in jake's facial features, I feel jake doing the same. I involuntarily find myself leaning in. just as we were about to kiss, there was a knock on the door

Jake and I back away from each other and I clear my throat "jake, the captain wants to see you" jake gives me a smile before heading out of the room. I gather my things and sit at my desk

Jake's POV

Just as Y/N and I were about to kiss, there was a knock on the break room door. I inwardly sigh at whoever ruined our moment. "Jake the captain wants to see you" it was Gina. I give Y/N a smile before I leave the room. I walk into the captains office "Sir, you wanted to see me?"

He didn't look too happy. then again, he never really does "yes, take a seat Peralta" I sit down and then he starts talking "I see your stakeout with Detective (L/N) went well" I nod "yeah it did" he nods "obviously except for the fact that (L/N) got punched in the face" I sigh "so that's what this is about" "yes it is Peralta. you were meant to be training her and keeping her safe" I nod "I know sir, but I was with her the entire time. I was arresting one of the perps, as soon as I saw what he had done I took action straight away" "that's not the point. she still got injured under your watch and that will have to go on file"

I sigh "look, sir I know what happened shouldn't have happened but she's a good cop and I didn't want her sitting on the side lines. she's a badass and plus she's ok, she let me take a look at her lip and it's fine" the captain looked like he was thinking "here's what I'll do. I won't write you up, I'll let her remain your partner, but for the next week, you both will be off the field and will be working from your desk" I nod "ok, fine" "dismissed"

Your POV

I really wanted to know what was going on in the captains office. jake looked frustrated and the captain looked, well like he always does. I see Jake coming out of the office and I pretend like I'm doing my work. he sits at his desk which is in front of mine. "hey how'd it go with the cap?" he sighed, uh oh "he was giving out to me that I let you get hurt, I told him how good and badass you were though and he told me that he won't write me up, but we aren't allowed out on the field for a week, so we're gonna be working from our desks instead"

"oh fun" I say sarcastically. I don't know why the captains punishing Jake for this, it isn't his fault "look (Y/N), I'm sorry. this is my fault. If I had of been doing my job right this never would have happened" I look over to Jake "hey, it isn't your fault. I'm the one who ran head first into this whole thing, I'll take the blame and I'll work from the desk for a week. you shouldn't have to suffer from my mistake" Jake gets up from his seat and sits at the one beside mine "look, we're partners. we'll do this together. plus, you looked badass kicking down the door"

i was going to say something when I was interrupted by Boyle "I hear wedding bells" I look at Charles then back and Jake and laugh "too early Charles" jake says. i wonder does anyone know about mine and Jake's little moment in the break room. anyway, enough about that. time to get back to work "anyway, look (Y/N), what I'm saying is, we're partners, we'll always stick together and have each others backs ok? I don't mind working from my desk because I get to do it with you" I look up "cheesy cliché, I like it" I giggle

"it's what I'm known for" jake sits back down at his desk and goes back to doing his work. I turn to my computer and start typing up my report on how the drug bust went. working with jake isn't going to be as bad as I thought

OK, let me know if it's good/bad, if there's mistakes in it or even if yous want a part 2. personally I like it