#is it a smile? is it a grimace? who knows

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)

[<- part 1]

"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."

This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.

"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.

"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."

The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.

"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.

If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.

Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.

"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"

John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.

"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."

Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.

"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.

"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.

"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.

"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.

Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.

"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.

"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Career Day

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, crack, jjk men as dads / fem!reader

An: Your child comes home and says tomorrow is career day at their school. They want to bring you and their daddy to school to show off how cool you two are, but.. their dad doesn’t exactly have the most conventional job.

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA

SATORU

“My daddy is the strongest!” Your son explains to a room full of his peers. Satoru is proudly beaming next to him. You note how much they look alike. The white hair, the bright blue eyes. Your son looks like he came straight from Satoru and had nothing to do with you.

But your son, Aoi, definitely had your personality.

“Nuh uh. He can’t be the strongest. Superman’s the strongest!” Another kid protested with an unconvinced frown.

“Well, my daddy is like superman!” Aoi retorts, keeping his headstrong personality like his mama. “Actually, he’s even better than superman!”

“He’s not even wearing a suit!” A different child speaks up. You share a nervous glance with Satoru. He’s enjoying this all too much.

“He doesn’t need a suit to be the strongest, dumbass!” Your sweet boy yells, and you promptly cover his mouth. Satoru is laughing his ass off, making the entire situation worse.

Correction, Aoi trying out his dad’s signature hand signal and saying “domain expansion” made the entire situation so much worse.

“You’re grounded, Aoi. You can’t say those things to other people. It’s rude and hurtful.” You say as you and Satoru walk your young boy home. Aoi lets out a small frustrated groan.

“I’m still getting him ice cream.” Satoru interjects with a proud smile. “My boy tried to cast his first domain at just six-years-old. He deserves a sweet treat.” Two wide smiles look up at you, and you realize you’re outnumbered here. Rolling your eyes, you nudge Satoru.

“I want a girl next.”

SUGURU

Mimiko and Nanako begged Suguru to come to their school’s career day. He was of course hesitant to do so, given that Jujutsu sorcery was still a hidden art in Japan. He didn’t exactly know how to explain his career to a bunch of kids.

He had a plan though. He would just tell the children that he was a preacher at a church. It’s not… completely a lie. He was a leader for.. a type of church.

You and Geto walk into the cozy looking classroom and see a load of other parents there. Your husband grimaced at the thought of having to interact with all these… people.

You give Suguru a reassuring squeeze of the hand. “It’ll be okay. Anything for the girls, right?” You whisper into his ear, making him nod. Anything for the girls.

When it’s finally Mimiko and Nanako’s turn to explain what their daddy does for a living, your small family gathers at the front of the classroom. Plenty of small innocent faces and reassuring smiles fill the room.

“Okay girls, tell us what your parents do for a living.” Their teacher prompts with a warm smile.

“My daddy swallows balls for a living!” Nanako says proudly with a beaming smile.

The kids erupted into laughter while their parents gave you two disgusted looks.

To make matters worse, “He also hates filthy mo-“ Mimiko tries to add on, but Geto quickly covers her mouth with his hand.

After explaining what a vivid imagination your twins have, you go on to explain that Geto is a leader at a church, and well, that doesn’t go over too well either.

“Homeschool?” Geto suggests as the four of you walk home.

“Most definitely.” You agree. Mimiko and Nanako are now educated by you at the home, where they can’t out their dad for swallowing balls.

TOJI

“Mama, make papa come to career day.” Your young son, Megumi, demanded. He had a small little pout on his face, and his arms were firmly crossed over his chest. Behind him, Toji stood, shaking his head at his son’s determination.

He often did this: telling you to make Toji do something because you were the only person who could make Toji do anything. After all these years, mans was still wrapped around your finger.

“Baby, Papa’s job is kinda private.” You explain quietly as you pet Megumi’s soft hair.

The small boy’s look of determination shifted to a look of reserve. Even as a young child, he wasn’t great at showing when his feelings were hurt, but you could always tell.

“Gumi.” You say his name softly, bending over to look at the boy’s flat expression.

You were also the only one who could coax Megumi into showing his real emotions.

Tears welled in his eyes, and his bottom lip started quivering. “I don’t wanna be the only one whose parents didn’t come.”

“Oh baby.” You frown as you pull your son into a hug. You glare upwards at Toji, and his eyes widened slightly. He knew what that look meant. “You’re going to career day.” You say to him, leaving no room for argument.

The next day,

“Okay Mr. Fushiguro, what do you do for a living?” The teacher asks Toji as he’s sat next to Megumi. Your son is actually smiling, enjoying the fact that Toji actually came to career day.

“People pay me a large sum of money, and I take care of someone for them.” Toji explains vaguely.

“Oh! Like a doctor?” One of the kids asked with an impressed smile.

“Sure, like a doctor.” Your husband lies, knowing that he does quite the opposite of what a doctor does.

SUKUNA

The look on the kids faces as your tall, muscular, tatted husband walked into the classroom was hilarious. Most of them were completely mortified, giving Sukuna frightened stares.

Your husband was completely unfazed. If anything, he was soaking in the kids’ fear. He sat at the front of the room with a look of arrogance.

Your nephew, Yuji, sat between you two. No, he was technically not your kid, but he didn’t have anyone else to bring to career day. So, Unc Sukuna and Auntie Yn were to the rescue.

“And.. what do you do for work, sir?” The teacher asked in almost a judgmental tone as she eyed Sukuna. You couldn’t tell if she despised him or wanted to fuck him.

“I don’t work. I live off tithe.” Sukuna bluntly answered with a shrug. His lopsided smile never left his face.

“What’s a tithe?” A small child asked quietly.

“It means people pay me out of fear of that I’ll harm them if they don’t.” Your husband gives a child a sharp stare with a challenging smile. He wanted the kids to keep asking questions. The thought of scaring multiple children all at once fueled him.

“Like… beat them up?” Another child asked.

“Like eating their snot-nosed children.” Sukuna answered with a toothy grin. The children all shrieked and cried in terror. Hell, even their parents looked frightened.

“Ryomen.” You chide as you look over towards your husband. He was laughing maniacally, even slapping his knee like the old man he was.

Yuji never invited you two to another career day.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello!! If you’re still taking requests I’d love to see a Nanami x Reader fic where the reader is pregnant but doesn’t realize yet but I’d like showing OBVIOUS symptoms and for Nanami to start to catch on to them, I don’t know if that’s like weird? 😭 Also I hope you’re doing good!!

THIS. IS. EVERYTHING.

Yeah, we're doing this right now

Nanami realizing you're pregnant before you do

Pairing: Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,2k

Synopsis: well, basically the request above hehe

Warnings: I mean, reader is pregnant lol, fluff fluff fluff, Nanami is just the greenest flag I can't, please tell me you enjoy this as much as I do, I LOVE THAT MAN

Lately, everything feels… off.

It's subtle at first. Mornings are harder than they used to be, a strange kind of sluggishness that lingers in your limbs no matter how much coffee you drink after waking up. Your back aches at the most random times. And don't even get started on the nausea that strikes out of nowhere, leaving you clutching the bathroom sink with trembling hands.

But, still, it doesn’t cross your mind - not at first.

Nanami’s been noticing though. He’s always been perceptive, sharp in the way he observes the world, but lately, his focus seems to rest more on you. It starts with the small things: a subtle glance as you push your breakfast away with a grimace, the way his brow furrows when you wince, pressing a hand to your lower back. He doesn’t ask you about it immediately, and you’re grateful for that. Nanami doesn’t rush things, never has. He knows you well enough to wait until the right moment.

Today, however, something is different.

It’s a quiet Saturday morning. You’re both in the kitchen, sunlight streaming through the curtains in soft beams. Nanami’s making coffee, his movements precise as always, while you sit at the kitchen table with your hands wrapped around a cup of ginger tea. You’ve been craving that instead of coffee these days, the rich scent of the brew turning your stomach in a way it never used to. To be honest, you’ve never been a tea drinker your whole life.

He’s noticed that too.

You yawn, stifling the sound behind your hand as you stretch in your chair. There’s a strange heaviness in your body, and the thought of going back to bed, even after a full night’s sleep, is oddly tempting. It’s the third time this week that the idea of a nap has crossed your mind before noon. You blink hard, forcing your eyes to focus, and turn to Nanami, who’s watching you over the rim of his cup.

“Are you feeling alright?” he questions, his tone neutral but his eyes searching.

“Yeah, why?” you respond, but your voice lacks its usual energy.

Even to your own ears, it sounds tired. You clear your throat and offer a small smile, hoping to brush off the question as well as the wave of concern that starts bubbling up your chest all over again.

“I’ve just been a little out of it lately, that’s all.”

Nanami places his cup down on the counter, his gaze never leaving your face.

“You’ve been ‘a little out of it’ for a while now, darling.”

There’s a weight to his words, a quiet concern that has your defenses rising instinctively. You sit up straighter, forcing a more convincing smile this time.

“I’m fine, really. Just tired. It’s probably work.”

It’s true, to some extent. Work has been stressful, the usual demands piling up, but this exhaustion feels… different. It’s deeper, sinking into your bones in a way that no amount of rest seems to fix.

Nanami doesn’t say anything right away, but you can feel him assessing you. His silence is almost louder than words. You know he won’t push you to talk, but his patience, the way he waits for you to come to your own conclusion, can be just as insistent.

You sigh, leaning back in your chair and rubbing at your eyes. There’s no way you’ll get out of this situation, not when your beloved boyfriend sits opposite of you with his calm but demanding orbs staring straight through your soul.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m coming down with something?”

It’s a flimsy excuse, and you both know it. But before you can think of anything else to say, a wave of nausea hits you hard and fast, making you lurch forward. You press a hand to your mouth, eyes wide as the world tilts just slightly. Oh god, not again.

Nanami is at your side in an instant, his hand on your back, warm and grounding.

“Hey, hey… breathe,” he murmurs gently, his thumb rubbing small circles against your spine.

“It’s okay. Just breathe.”

You close your eyes and focus on the rhythm of your breathing, counting each inhale and exhale until the nausea begins to subside. Slowly, you sit back, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. The embarrassment is hot on your face, and you can’t quite meet Nanami’s eyes.

“I’m fine, Kento”, you mutter, though you can tell it sounds unconvincing.

Nanami’s hand is still on your back, his touch firm yet gentle. He doesn’t say anything, not yet. You know he’s waiting, giving you space to figure out what’s going on. But even through your haze of denial, a part of you knows the truth is starting to unravel.

“Does this happen often?”

His voice is calm, but there’s an undercurrent of something more. Something you can’t quite place.

You swallow hard, not sure how to answer.

“It’s just been the past couple of weeks,” you admit quietly.

“I think it’s stress. Maybe some kind of stomach bug?”

Nanami’s brow furrows slightly, and he crouches down beside your chair, his eyes searching your face with that same quiet intensity.

“Are there any other symptoms?”

Your mouth opens to say no, but then you stop, thinking back over the past few weeks. The tiredness, the nausea, the strange sensitivity to smells, your shifting moods - small things you’d brushed off or tried to ignore. But now, all at once, it feels like they’re adding up, slotting together in a way that you hadn’t considered before.

You glance down at your hand, the one resting on your stomach, and something inside you clicks.

Oh.

Oh.

Nanami must notice the shift in your expression because his hand stills on your back.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice low and steady.

You swallow hard, the words catching in your throat before you finally manage to speak.

“I think… I might be pregnant.”

There. You’ve said it. And the weight of those words hangs heavy in the air between you, a truth you hadn’t been ready to acknowledge until now.

Kento doesn’t react immediately. His expression stays calm, though you can see the flicker of something in his eyes - surprise, perhaps, or maybe something more. Did he already suspect this? Is this why he pushed you to think about your symptoms further? Slowly, he straightens up, standing in front of you now as he takes a deep breath.

“Are you sure?”

You shake your head, feeling a little lost.

“I’m not. I… I hadn’t really thought about it until just now.”

The truth is, you hadn’t considered the possibility at all. With everything going on - work, life, the general busyness of existing, it hadn’t crossed your mind that this could be the reason behind everything you’ve been feeling.

But now that it’s out in the open, you can’t help but wonder how you missed the signs.

Nanami’s hand gently cups your chin, tilting your face up so that you’re looking at him. His gaze is steady, calm in a way that grounds you, just like always.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions yet,” he says quietly.

“But if you think there’s a chance…”

You nod, your throat suddenly tight.

“Yeah. There might be.”

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. The air between you feels thick with unspoken emotions, a quiet understanding settling between you. Nanami steps closer, his hand moving from your chin to cup your cheek instead, his thumb brushing against your skin.

“We’ll figure this out,” he murmurs, his voice soft.

“Together.”

The sincerity in his words washes over you, bringing with it a flood of emotions you hadn’t realized you were holding back. You blink, your vision blurring slightly as you reach up to cover his hand with yours.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nanami’s expression softens, and he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I know. But whatever happens, we’ll face it together. I promise” he mutters against your skin.

You nod, your heart swelling with a mix of fear, uncertainty, and something else, something warmer, softer. You aren’t alone in this. No matter what happens, you have your boyfriend by your side, steady and unshakable.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours again.

“Do you want to take a test?” he asks, his voice careful, as if he’s gauging your readiness.

You hesitate, biting your lip.

“I… I don’t know. Maybe? I mean, I guess I should, right?”

Nanami nods, but he doesn’t push.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

The idea of taking a test feels overwhelming, like it would make everything real in a way you’re not sure you’re prepared for. But at the same time, the uncertainty is starting to weigh on you, the not knowing gnawing at the edges of your thoughts.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you try to gather yourself. When you open them again, Nanami is still there, watching you with that quiet patience you’ve come to rely on so much.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice trembling just a little.

“Okay. I’ll take a test.”

Nanami squeezes your hand gently, a reassuring presence beside you.

“I’ll go get one,” he offers, his tone calm and matter-of-fact, like he’s suggesting something as simple as picking up groceries.

You nod, feeling a little more settled now that a decision has been made.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

He leans down, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back.

“I’ll be back soon.”

With that, he grabs his keys and heads for the door, casting one last glance over his shoulder before he slips out into the hallway.

Once he’s gone, the quiet of the apartment feels almost too loud. You sit there for a long moment, staring at the cup of tea in front of you, your mind racing with thoughts you can’t quite hold onto.

Pregnant. You might be pregnant.

The idea feels too big, too surreal to grasp, and yet it’s there, lingering just at the edge of your awareness. A part of you is scared, terrified of the changes this could bring. But another part, a part you’re only just beginning to acknowledge, feels something else. Hope, maybe? Excitement? It’s hard to tell.

All you know for sure is that everything feels different now, that your whole life will be turned upside down if this test comes out positive.

When Nanami returns a short while later, test in hand, you take it from him with trembling fingers. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a small, reassuring nod as you disappear into the bathroom.

The minutes that follow are some of the longest of your life. You pace back and forth in front of the sink, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for the results. The silence feels deafening, and all you can do is focus on your breathing, trying to keep yourself calm.

Finally, the time is up. You glance down at the test, your breath catching in your throat as you read the result.

Positive.

You stare at it for a long moment, your mind struggling to process what you’re seeing. And then, slowly, the reality starts to sink in.

You’re pregnant.

With shaking hands, you open the bathroom door to find Nanami standing just outside, waiting. He looks up at you, his expression calm but expectant.

“Well?” he asks quietly.

You swallow hard, your voice catching in your throat as you hold up the test.

“It’s positive.”

For a moment, Nanami doesn���t say anything. His eyes flicker to the test in your hand, and then back to your face, his expression unreadable. And then, slowly, he steps forward, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle, grounding embrace.

“We’re going to be okay,” he murmurs against your hair.

“You’re going to be okay.”

And somehow, with his arms around you, you really believe him. Maybe you will be able to work this out. After all, you have none other than Kento Nanami by your side, right?

“Kento…”, you begin, the flood of sniffs and wild emotions now slowly but surely calming down.

“What is it, darling?”

“Did you…did you know?”

He sends a small smile your way while gently stroking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I couldn’t be sure. But after seeing you like this for a couple of weeks now, I had some suspicions”, he admits quietly.

You let out a huff.

“I can’t believe you realized it earlier than I did.”

“You are my life, (y/n). I notice every little thin about you.”

“And now you’ll be the father of a child”, you breathe out.

The words still feel strange while rolling off your tongue. Kento Nanami will be a father – the father of your child.

You are pregnant.

This is real.

“And I couldn’t ask for a better mother for my child.”

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr @ryumurin

[fumiliar]

aftermath - kento nanami

✎...angst? fluff?, mostly fluff, he lives!, kento and y/n are engaged, post-shibuya, mentions of scars, insecure kento

kento never felt insecure in himself, till now. as he stared at the mirror with a grimace, with a seething self-hatred. he didn't deserve you, he didn't. you deserve someone better, a him without burns or scars. he wouldn't have resented you if you left, he was incomplete. he couldn't complete the puzzle with his imperfect self.

seeing you used to bring joy to kento's heart, the type of joy that gets you giddy, the kind of joy you'd risk a lifetime to feel. yet all he could feel now was a sense of guilt. to come back to you in this state, he didn't feel joy. no. he felt ashamed, embarrassed. yet, all these feelings were limited to himself.

you loved this man, burns or without; he was still perfect in all senses of the word. there was no bone, no. there was no part of you that didn't think he was the one. you could not give a flying fuck that he was injured, or that he had to wear an eyepatch. he was the man who stayed with you through thick and thin, he was the one who built you when you were scattered in pieces. he was the one who carefully assembled you with love and care. now, it was your turn to do the same.

"why are you still with me y/n?" his eyes glistening with tears as he suffocated himself in your embrace.

"why do you think i'm shallow enough to leave you because of some burns and scar?" you played with kento's hair, twirling it in your hands

"not only that, i'm damaged, physically and mentally, i'll never be the same," kento looked up at your face, surprised to see a smile, the exact same smile when he admitted he loved you.

your hands softly cupped his cheeks, trying your best to avoid his sensitive spots. "you're still the same kento in my eyes," you lovingly looked at the crying man, slowly wiping his tears.

"i love you ken, i don't know why you can't wrap your head around that," you kissed his forehead, softly caressing his cheek. "i love you so much, there is no word in the world that could encapsulate exactly how i feel towards you. you are my past, my present and my future. i'm just thankful enough that you're alive, to be a part of my life from hereon. we're engaged for fuck's sake, i would've never said yes if i didn't want to be with you."

"i can't believe you're going to be my wife soon," kento muttered, bringing himself closer to your face, giving you a kiss. "i can't fathom a world without you y/n."

"me too ken."

[charliemwrites]

Part 12 SpecGru reader!!

No content warnings for this chapter.

You mull over your captain’s words in the hours before dinner. Sitting behind Nova in her temporary room, Doctor Who’s opening theme warbling from your laptop’s speakers. You gently work oil into her scalp, following the precise alleys formed by her braids.

It’s a soothing ritual, not just for her, but for you. An act of care for a woman who’s been so kind and patient with you. Who always stood her ground on your worst days, and never allowed herself to be goaded into a useless argument. She’s warm beneath your fingers, soft against your chest, the scent of coconut and cinnamon sweet in your nose.

Slowly, you begin to card through memories you put great care into neglecting.

The day you left the hospital, feeling more pathetic than you ever had in your life. A packet of care instructions folded over in one hand. You remember the way Gaz hadn’t quite looked you in the eye, mouth tight and regretful at the corners. Almost guilty. Even when he handed over a bag of fresh clothes, saying he was glad to see you on your feet.

Did you know then? Was there some twinge of foreshadowing in your gut? Did you hear a foreboding whisper in your mind, of how the following twenty-four hours would devolve?

Maybe you did or maybe hindsight is a liar.

What really stands out, even after all this time, is how betrayed you felt (still feel) when you reflect on that interaction with Gaz. That the best he offered was a weak warning that Ghost and Price were pissed off at you. The hurt that he didn’t even ask how you felt before disappearing for the rest of that awful day. You never saw him after your initial discharge, he might as well have borrowed his lieutenant’s namesake.

And then there was Johnny.

Soap, who made himself perfectly visible, if only to express how pissed off he was. He never bothered to ask how you were doing either – didn’t even seem relieved to see you conscious and in one piece. He was tight-jawed and tense; the few times he deigned to speak to you was clipped and terse.

When you finally left, you remember how your chest ached, knowing (intending) you’d never see his thousand-watt smile again. A fair few of your tears on that flight had been in self-deprecation for expecting anything but his total, unwavering loyalty to Simon. It stung that for all his crowing about being a team, looking out for each other, no one left behind – he couldn’t spare you a crumb of forgiveness for a mistake in the field.

Price and Ghost had almost made sense, really. But Gaz and Soap had been a peculiar sort of pain. Your fellow sergeants, who had made you feel welcome and comfortable in the beginning – who had been the bridge and buffer between you and your intimidating superiors. And maybe it wasn’t their fault that you never quite felt like you had a seat at their table, but they’d tried.

Still… at least you can look at them. You can’t imagine opening your mouth to face Price or Ghost and anything but acid pouring out.

“What’s on your mind, babes?”

You blink, palms automatically cradling Nova’s head as she tilts it back to peer at you. On autopilot, you dip down to kiss her forehead, then the gentle curve of her lips.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t get me wrong, the massage is nice,” she teases, “but you’ve gone over my whole head at least twice now.”

“Oh,” you intone, swiping your thumb behind her ear. “Just thinkin’ is all.”

“I can tell,” she giggles, “there’s practically smoke comin’ outta your ears.”

You grimace a bit, arms lowering down to circle her shoulders in a hug. She curls her clever, slender fingers around your forearm, tracing soft patterns with her blunt nails.

“Sorry, love,” you mumble, flicking your eyes to the screen. Realize you’ve only got a vague idea of what’s going on. “I’m being a bad date.”

“You’re not,” she insists, squeezing your wrist. “This s’all been a lot, yeah? I just don’ want you being on your own in there.”

She taps two fingers against your temple. You used to spend all your time alone in your own head. Not because it was safe – it wasn’t – but it was familiar. It took her and the rest of the team concerted effort to pry anything of value from you.

Now, you muster up an appreciative smile as you nuzzle into her hand.

“I’ve just been trying to decide…”

She pauses the show and wriggles to get a better look at your face, hums for you to continue.

“If I should try talking to the 141,” you continue. “Cap said I should consider it. See if we can put all that old shit to rest.”

“Do you want to put it to rest?”

“I should.”

“But do you want to?”

The question brings you up a bit short. Being mad is easy. You’ve been mad at them for so long, one step short of loathing, that you’ve settled into the feeling. Dug your heels in. It’s an easy way to put a stopper on all the complicated hurt lying beneath.

“I want to talk to them the same way I want to go to the dentist,” you muse.

She picks up what you aren’t saying.

“You don’t want to, but you know it’s healthier if you do.”

You grunt, still too proud to admit it outright.

“The wound closed over, but it never healed properly,” she says. “Maybe you’ve got to reset it, yeah?”

You sigh. “Yeah. Just not sure where to start.”

She shrugs. “Wherever you want to. Do it on your own terms. Only way you’ll be able to stomach them.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“’Course I am,” she chirps. “I’m used to navigating bad weather.”

You nip at her fingers, prompting a bright peel of laughter as she tries to squirm away. As you wrestle her back into your lap, your nerves soften and settle.

Even if you excise this wound, you know you won’t be left bleeding alone. Not ever again.

You haven’t come to any concrete decision after dinner. Not that anyone asks. Nova isn’t one to push and your captain has already said his piece. You haven’t told Nikto or Keegan about your dilemma yet, and you’re not sure if you will.

Nikto’s take on the situation isn’t obvious – though if you had to guess, it would be similar to Nova’s. But Keegan? You already know what his answer would be.

Of anyone in SpecGru, he had to work the hardest to earn even an iota of warmth from you. He reminded you too much of Ghost – and how could he not? The perpetual mask, the sharp one-liners. Gruff and closed off, frighteningly capable, and a crack shot with a sniper rifle to boot.

It used to take everything in you to pull your punches during spars. The rare instances that you would agree to eat with your new team were never if Keegan was present. And more than once, you walked into the rec room, saw his looming figure, and turned right back around.

The only time you could stand to look at him was during missions, but your captain was always sure to receive a killer glare if he paired the two of you together.

Keegan was your partner on the mission that changed things.

It had been a week straight of shit sleep and bad memories, sick on loneliness and anger. When boots hit the ground, you stormed right in, eager to prove to yourself (but really, to them) that you were valuable. Didn’t wait for Keegan, but that had never stopped him from keeping pace with you before.

You didn’t clear your corners, got sloppy and hasty.

Took two stab wounds before Keegan shot the hostile in the temple. When he tried to call the others, you demanded that he finish the mission first. Would have rather bled out than be the reason another mission failed.

The pain and blood loss dragged you under as soon as you choked out the demand.

Then, Keegan’s face was the first thing you saw in the hospital room. Not the mask, him.

Even with dirt and black paint smudging his face, you could see the dark, worried circles beneath his eyes. Could read regret in his angular jaw, relief in the slant of his scarred mouth. For the first time, you looked in his eyes and saw more than an echo of your former lieutenant.

You saw your teammate. The partner you’d left to fend for himself because you’d been handicapped by your own pride. You saw Keegan.

“Did you finish the mission?” you rasped.

He frowned, but your captain stepped forward. “He did – once we were there to stop the bleeding.”

You never saw Ghost in the weave of his mask again.

And soon after, Keegan was the first person you opened up to about the 141.

It was that very same week. You’d been sick on shame and embarrassment, using your injuries to nurse your wounded ego. Skipping meals in exchange for raiding your snack drawers and moping in your cot.

Keegan hadn’t made himself scarce after your discharge. None of your team had, really – but he’d made a point of checking on you. And lacking your usual sharpness, he hadn’t been deterred by your comparatively mild standoffishness either.

Which was how you found yourself stubbornly tucked into the corner of your cot one night, while Keegan sewed the holes in your shirt. He kept shooting you amused looks – probably because you hadn’t taken your eyes off him once. Half wondering why he was there, half waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You gonna say something, or you just glare all night?” he drawled eventually.

You narrowed your eyes. “Do you plan to stay all night?”

He shrugged, but his eyes flicked to yours, the corner of his mouth ticking up. (No mask. He hadn’t worn one around you since the hospital. Not unless people outside your team were around.)

“If you’ll have me. Been meaning to get you caught up on the show we’ve been watching.”

You huffed, frustrated. “Why?”

He arched his brows at you, needle paused. “Because I like you, despite your best efforts.”

You stared, a little appalled, a little touched. Keegan just chuckled and went right back to mending your shirt. You drew your knees up tighter and hid your quivering mouth with your arms.

“Cap says your last team was shit to you,” he said into your sullen silence.

You scowled. He put a hand up as if in surrender.

“He hasn’t said more’n that, don’t worry,” he continued, “I’m just sayin’… I don’t take any of it personal. You’re a good teammate, I trust you with more than my six.”

Why, you wanted to demand, flabbergasted and all the guiltier because you knew you didn’t deserve it. Why did he trust you? Why was he so patient? Why was he there at all?

You sniffled, but he just kept talking.

“I want to return the favor, ya know? I’m not askin’ you to trust me after the mission, but you don’t gotta be on your own either.”

You were crying quietly by that point, face so hot that your tears felt cold, stomach aching from more than stab wounds. He finally looked up, saw how you were falling apart. But he didn’t shy away, didn’t close himself off. It wasn’t pity or sympathy that softened his eyes.

“The shit you and I carry, we’re not meant to do it alone, sweets.”

And what else could you do, but spill your sorry guts?

You remember the expression on his face when you got to the part about Ghost. Remember how tightly he held you on your cot, all the distance (emotional and physical) closed between you two. Remember waking up the next morning, Netflix still open on your laptop and flopped gracelessly over Keegan’s stomach like a childhood sleepover.

You couldn’t have iced him out again even if you wanted to, after that.

No, there’s no question what Keegan would tell you, if you asked about talking to the 141. He would say there’s no good reason to waste oxygen on a single one of them.

So, you don’t ask.

You climb into his lap in your temporary room that evening, peeling his mask up and off with slow hands. His eyes are already half-lidded, the corner of his mouth curved fondly. His hands spread across your thighs, warm and rough. The scar twisting across his left palm is sweetly familiar when he draws it along your skin.

“I’m going to try talking to the 141,” you admit.

His jaw twitches, eyes flickering. “Now why the hell would you do that?”

You sigh, curl your fingers into the brassy crop of hair he’s been growing out. He’s got a quick temper, and a habit of misplacing it when it’s been triggered by something out of his control. You don’t take it personally, you never have – it’s gratifying to see how much he cares.

“There’s no good reason to waste oxygen on a single one of ‘em,” he growls.

“There might be.”

He sits back, skeptical but waiting.

You continue, “I’ve got a lot of shit to say to them, and they seem eager to hear it.”

“Why give ‘em the satisfaction?” he asks.

“Maybe it’ll help with the nightmares.” That gives him pause. You draw your thumb soothingly across his temple – a bullet graze from saving your life. “We’ve got too much shit to carry, you and me. Unloading some of it is as good a reason as any.”

His hand drifts up your side, grazes the tattoo coiling down your arm. (The second you ever got – a big piece that took hours, Keegan never leaving your side. Nikto, Nova, and your captain periodically dropping in to provide snacks and water.)

He cups your jaw, guides your face down until your foreheads touch. You stay there, breathing him in. He smells like yours.

“What if they make it worse, huh?” His thumb caresses over your cheekbone the way it has a dozen times before, wiping away tears. “I’ll have to kill ‘em.”

You huff softly, amused. “Then kill ‘em. But I’m stronger than I was, Kee. There’s nothing they can weigh me down with that I can’t carry.”

“I know,” he whispers, tilting his chin to drop a sweet, aching kiss on your lips.

“Besides, I wouldn’t be carrying it alone anymore.”

His expression lightens, pride shining from his eyes. “Damn right.”

It’s nearly midnight when you wake from a light doze. Keegan is snoring softly, an arm and leg each hanging over the side of the bed. Your mouth is dry, but you realize it’s your stomach that woke you – pangs of hunger from picking at your dinner earlier. You need to eat.

Quiet and careful, you crawl out from beneath the sheets. Keegan is a heavy sleeper compared to the nearly supernatural senses of Nikto; he hardly stirs as you pad for the door. The hall lights are dim, but you only open it a crack to slip out.

The hall is quiet, no lights on beneath any of the other doors. You hope that means the rest of your team is sleeping peacefully. If you remember right, Nikto and Nova crawled in with your captain this evening. They’re all in good company if nightmares creep in; you pray Keegan doesn’t have any while you’re up.

Thankfully, the rec room is only two halls away. Light is spilling out as you turn the corner – there’s a sensor that shuts them off if no movement is detected for a while. Someone is either in there now or was recently. You half hope it’s the latter, but that doesn’t deter you from entering.

Your surprised to find Soap leaning against the kitchenette counter, a steaming mug in hand. His expression is flat, grim. Tired. You pause just inside the doorway.

“Might as well come in,” he says, voice low and rough. “I’ll clear out in a mo’.”

Even from where you’re standing, you can see that his cup is mostly full.

You exhale and shake your head. “Don’t have to.”

“How gracious,” he rasps, brows twitching like he wants to scowl. Like he can’t quite commit to being as bitter as he should be.

You’re too tired for your usual acid, as well. Just sigh and reach for the fridge door.

“Is that how you want this conversation to go?” you ask.

“Is this a conversation?” he replies.

You pluck out a yogurt cup. “It can be.”

He’s glaring into his coffee now, index finger tapping at the ceramic. Thinking. Or maybe just leashing all the things he wants to say but knows will drive you right back out.

“Why now?” he says finally.

You shrug. “Because I’m ready now.”

A tendon in his jaw twitches. “That’s not fair.”

A hot flicker of anger ignites in your chest. You tamp it down with a spoonful of yogurt, measuring out your words and tone.

“How do you reckon?” you inquire.

“You left,” he says. It’s been a while, but you can detect the hurt underlying the accusation. You suspect it’s something he’s wanted to say for a long time. “You left us behind.”

You click your teeth off your spoon, take a deep breath. It’s factually true. You are the one that left but—

“I wasn’t going to wait for you all to kick me out officially.”

He finally raises his eyes, a dark storm of emotion swirling within them.

“We wouldnae have.”

You tilt your head, cynicism in the flat line of your mouth. “Didn’t seem that way to me.”

“I ken you and Simon were—”

“Don’t.”

His mouth snaps shut, brows furrowed. You point at him with your spoon warningly but bite back the sharp remark on your tongue. Arguing isn’t the point here.

Settle instead to say, “Don’t speak for the others.”

There’s a beat of silence as he digests that, then finally nods. “Alright. Just you ‘n me then.”

You turn back to your yogurt, swipe up another spoonful as you reorganize your thoughts.

“I didn’t leave because of Ghost,” you begin. “Not entirely. I left because I was never part of the team. And what happened after that mission just… made it all very clear.”

Soap frowns, opens his mouth like he wants to deny it, but you hold up a finger to stop him. He takes a long sip of coffee and waits.

“You didn’t check on me at all. You weren’t there when I woke up. You never asked if I was okay,” you continue. “You were too busy being angry on Ghost’s behalf.”

“You almost got the both of you killed,” he argues.

“But you cared more about Ghost almost being hurt than the fact that I was,” you say. And dammit, you feel your sinuses burning, but your eyes stay blessedly dry. The anger disappears from his face all at once as realization sinks in. “I mattered to you less than Ghost.”

His hand tightens around his mug, knuckles blanching. “No. No, lass, tha’s no’… you were always… you survived.”

“I felt the worst I ever had in my life, but you didn’t care because I crossed the almighty Ghost,” you insist.

“I cared about you,” he denies.

“But not more than you did about Ghost.” You drag your gaze up to his. Even his eyes look a little wet now. “And that… that wasn’t enough for me.”

You suck in a shuddering breath, trying to loosen the tightness in your chest. Clear your throat once you feel the threatening prick of tears subside.

“I didn’t… it wasnae that,” he rasps. “I ken you think I’m full of shite, but ‘s true.”

You do think he’s full of shit. Maybe not on purpose, maybe he really does think he cared about you as much as Ghost, but you know better.

“I was just… so angry wi’ you,” he explains. “You could have died. Nearly got Simon killed, all because you thought you knew better.”

You exhale hard. “You’ve never made a bad call?” you challenge.

“It wasnae your call to make. You should have listened to Ghost. Instead, you—”

“I what?”

Your fingers tingle, numb. Can’t even feel the spoon, or the chill of the yogurt cup anymore.

“You disobeyed orders, it was so—”

“I didn’t.”

He stops. Stares. “What?”

You stare right back, “I didn’t disobey orders.”

First | Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

[ellecdc]

pleaseee can i request a potter!reader x barty where someone tries to hit on the reader and is pretty persistent when she’s with her friends (maybe remus, lily and reg because i feel like they’d all hang out) and then barty (and maybe james??) appears and acts as her scary dog privilege thank youu your writing is so amazing 💗💗

you sure can! thanks for the request (and your patience), I'm dusting off all my requests from the Spring hahaha <3

Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader who has a persistent admirer [731 words]

CW: slight harassment/not accepting no for an answer, quick defence by friends and brother and boyfriend, threats of violence

“This is getting embarrassing.” Lily muttered as she watched Gideon Prewett approach you the second you stepped into the library. 

You smiled politely enough at the sod, but clearly felt awkward as you spotted your friends waiting for you in the library, shooting them a look that clearly read “help”.

“- think we could go to Hogsmeade together this weekend.” The group heard the tail end of Gideon’s sentence as the two of you got closer; or, rather, you got closer and he trailed obsessively behind you.

“Erm, that’s really nice of you, Prewett, but I’m gonna have to say no thank you.”

“Come now, Potter,” he continued easily, “I know what you’re thinking; it doesn’t have to be-”

“I would quit whilst you’re ahead, Prewett.” Remus sing-songed with a smirk as Gideon pulled your chair out for you and attempted to sit on your other side.

“And just what is that supposed to mean, Lupin?” Gideon all but sneered in reply, though he did hesitate in taking the seat.

“Hasn’t she made it clear enough she’s not interested?” Lily hissed, causing Regulus to huff a laugh.

“I say leave him to it.” He drawled in a bored manner. “It’s his funeral.”

“Is that a threat, Black?” Gideon accused at the exact moment said threat walked in.

“Hey bug!” James called loudly; appearing friendly for all intents and purposes, but the well trained eye (like that of his partner’s, one of his best friend’s and roommates, and his twin sister) could easily see the tension simmering beneath his cool facade. “S’this tosser bothering you?” 

“No…” You offered carefully, clearly not convinced in your own answer as you offered Gideon an apologetic grimace. “No, I’m alright, I just-”

“What’s going on here?” Barty demanded, appearing behind you out of nowhere like some sort of deranged poltergeist as he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and glared threateningly at your persistent admirer. 

“It’s a sodding library, Junior, what do you think is going on here?” Gideon spat.

“What I think is going on here,” Barty started severely, “is that you’re making my girl uncomfortable.” 

“Is that true, Prewett?” James queried; tone about an octave higher than normal as he threw a ‘friendly’ arm over his shoulder. “Are you making my sister uncomfortable?”

“I-”

“Because I’d hate to see what kind of trouble Junior and I could get into together should we need to team up, yeah?” He asked sweetly, and Remus nearly snorted at the way the poor sods freckles stood out in stark contrast when the blood drained from his face as he looked over at Barty who was smiling at him maniacally. 

“Jeez, alright.” Gideon tried to joke, though his laugh came out rather pitchy as he shook James’ threatening hold from his shoulder. “Message received.”

But before he could take more than two steps away, Barty had him by the collar of his shirt as he brought his face inches from his own. “Next time a lady says no thank you, that’s when your message should be received. Got it?”

Gideon simply nodded quickly, and Barty offered him a smile that didn’t meet his eyes and a patronising pat on the cheek. “Good lad.”  

The group of you watched Gideon flee the library before turning back to your table. 

“Well, that was rather anticlimactic.” Regulus complained.

“What? Was baby Black hoping for more drama?” Remus taunted, earning himself a kick in the shin from his boyfriend’s younger brother. 

“If that bloke so much as sneezes anywhere near you there will be more than enough drama for baby Black.” Barty promised as he sat in the seat Gideon had tried to occupy on your other side.

“Can we maybe not call me that?” Regulus scowled; face contorted in displeasure until James pressed a kiss to his hair.

“Just name the time and place, Junior, I’ll be there.” James agreed, and you rolled your eyes at your brother and boyfriend. 

“You boys are ridiculous.” You chided, though the fact that you were leaning your head against Barty’s shoulder as he weaselled an arm around your middle severely undermined your point. 

“Mmm, maybe.” Barty allowed as he pressed his lips to the crown of your head. “But you love it.”

And Remus knew from the shy smile gracing your lips that you did, indeed, sort of love your more than slightly ridiculous boys.

[moonstruckme]

Hi doll! I love ur new theme btw.

could I request Spencer Reid with (number 3) hands stained with pen ink 🐤? x

Hi baby! Thank you <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 454 words

“Breaker locale.” You tap beside your mouth absentmindedly. “Three letters.”

“Locale?” Spencer checks. 

“Mhm.” 

“Do we have any letters?” 

“If we’re right about sixteen down, then there’s an A in the middle.” 

You’re definitely right about sixteen down. Spencer had gotten that one, and you’ve yet to see the day where he has to scratch something out in the crossword. He’s done most of it, actually, leaving the final few to you while you munch on your toast and he makes coffee. 

“Could it be like an electrical breaker?” you wonder aloud. “Like a breaker box? The breakers live in the box, don’t they?” 

“Not if the second letter is A…” Spencer sounds stumped. You raise your eyebrows at his back and he puts down the bag of coffee grounds, staring at nothing for a few seconds. “Breaker locale…” 

“Maybe it’s like a place where people who break stuff live? Is there a city like that?” 

Spencer shakes his head wordlessly. He finishes messing with the coffee machine and turns it on, coming around the counter to look over your shoulder. 

He exhales a soft laugh. “Lab.” 

“Lab?” You don’t get it even remotely, but you’re already filling the letters in. “How?” 

“It says beaker locale.” 

You find the clue and read it again. “Oh,” you laugh, pressing your fingers to your eyes. “Dumb.” 

“Not dumb,” Spencer chides lightly. “You just misread it. Hey.” He knuckles the corner of your lips. “Be careful not to get ink in your mouth.”

You blink, then wipe the spot with your thumb. It comes away tinged blue. “Oh, god.” You roll your eyes. “I didn’t even realize I was tapping it with my pen. Guess I’m really not having my most intellectual morning.” 

“Don’t say that,” Spencer admonishes you again, but he’s smiling, fingers grasping your jaw as he comes in for a kiss. It’s soft and sweet and feels like the glowy yellow your apartment turns in the morning light. When he pulls away after a few seconds, his smile slips before righting itself again. “Oh. Sorry.” 

“Hm?” 

“You’ve got…” He grimaces sheepishly, holding up the hand that had been on your face. Three of his fingertips are blue. 

“Oh my god.” You laugh, going to the bathroom to see. And yup, there are three blue splotches spread along your jaw, two on one side and one on the other. “Spencer!”

“I’m sorry,” you hear him laugh from the kitchen. “You already had the ones by your mouth anyway, though. They’ll wash off.” 

“These are worse than hickeys, you know that, right?” 

“I don’t really see how…but if they don’t come off and you want a hickey to divert attention from them, I can do that.”

[thefreakandthehair]

“Oh shit, your shirt’s a little… uh, well, you probably shouldn’t wear it.” Steve grimaces and nods at the black band tee strewn across the bottom corner of the bed, crusty stains settling in from where Eddie had impatiently wiped himself down before Steve got back with a warm washcloth.

“Yeah, that thing’s a biohazard right now. Honestly, it’s fine. We can always get a redo, if you really, really want one, tomorrow or something. I doubt any places are gonna let me in without a shirt. My big scary tattoos will frighten the midwestern townsfolk.”

Steve places both hands on his hips and Eddie wants to kiss him.

Again, and again, and again.

“Just wear one of mine. Your jeans are fine, so here.” He turns around and flits through the drawer once more, tugging out a shirt and tossing it to Eddie with a hesitant smile.

Among the many rumors that have circulated about Eddie Munson, the one he holds in highest contempt is that he’s stupid. That he took so many tries to graduate high school because he was dumb, incapable.

He’s not.

Eddie isn’t stupid, and he’s been around Steve long enough to learn all about the courting rituals of a jock, about how his teammate’s girlfriends and partners wear their names across their backs to show they’re… well, theirs. 

So when Steve hands him a maroon tee-shirt with white hems, the Indiana University emblem on the front and Harrington written across the back, he knows what the gesture means. 

He pulls the shirt over his frizzy mess of curls and secretly hopes he’s right.

↳read chapter three of slipped between these ribs of mine [explicit] on ao3! written for @steddiesmuttyseptember!

some people asked to be tagged and I can't for the life of me remember so just tagging some peeps who expressed interest (lemme know if you don't wanna be, of course!): @sageclipse @pearynice @steddieasitgoes @stervrucht @runninriot

@lunaticmarunatic @lihhelsing @steddie-island @kas-eddie-munson @sidekick-hero

@spectrum-spectre @hbyrde36 @queenie-ofthe-void @kkpwnall @starryeyedjanai

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @steddieas-shegoes @vecnuthy @hyperrbolic-orange @hotluncheddie

@stedumpsterfire @fkinkindagauche @pluckedstrings

[kkuramyeons]

❀ where the heck is saki? - sakura miyawaki x fem!reader

synopsis: life’s good when you’re dating the life of the party.

pairing: college au! student!sakura x student!reader

description: jock! sakura, party girl reader, jealousy, suggestive… making out,…, jock!lsrfm, mentions of aespa, sakura is a very jealous gf but we love her regardless, yunjin saving the day, hint of summerz, etc…

a/n: THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS SINCE FIMCHELLA. i apologize it was about time i let this one out of the draft closet.

❀

“where the hell is saki?” were the first words that left your lips upon entering the house where your girlfriend’s party was at, but of course, the host was nowhere to be found.

“you know how she is, i’m sure she’ll turn up soon. let’s go take some shots!” chaewon squeezed your arm, reassuring you that your girlfriend would be here soon, gripping your hand to guide you through the sea of people.

even though you were used to your girlfriend’s extravagant parties, you had to give her credit for this one, because she couldn’t have picked a more perfect date for the party. deciding on throwing a party after midterms at a frat house was one of sakura’s best ideas yet, the house was filled to the brim, people dancing, talking, and having a good time after stress filled weeks on end.

in the kitchen, you helped yourself to some tequila and soda, watching chaewon decide what color of jell-o shot she wanted.

“how about we try ‘em all?” you suggested, tongue in cheek as you tilted your head at the older girl. “it’s not like we have classes or exams tomorrow,” you egged her on.

chaewon giggled at your suggestion, but followed it nonetheless. minutes later, empty shot cups were scattered across the kitchen counter, both of you grimacing at the amount of liquor consumed in so little time.

making small talk with chaewon under the dim light of the kitchen, you looked around in hopes to see a glimpse of blonde hair amongst the living room where people were dancing, but you had no luck. disappointed at your girlfriend’s absence, you decided to check your phone in hopes the blonde had texted you any update on her whereabouts but all you had were some texts from your group chats and some random people wanting to know the address.

with a small sigh you put your phone in your jacket, sakura’s letterman jacket to be exact, and turned to chaewon, who was making conversation with kazuha. noticing the sophomore’s arrival, you quickly greeted her with a hug, offering her a drink. while you were busying yourself making a drink for kazuha, slender arms wrapped around your waist, greeting you from behind. the smell of vanilla and smoke filled your surroundings, making your turn around, noticing that it wasn’t your girlfriend’s usual scent of cherry and vanilla.

“what’s up rockstar?” greeted aeri uchinaga, whispering in your ear. turning around and recognizing one of your friends, you let out a soft squeal, arms around her neck as she pulled you closer by the waist, giving you a hug. pulling away, you noticed aeri’s best friends, standing rather awkwardly in the small space, smiles on their faces as they greeted you.

next to the refrigerator, chaewon side eyed aeri, raising her brow at you, silently questioning her behavior towards you. brushing her off and grabbing another drink, you urged her to the dance floor, feeling the alcohol slowly begin to take control. noticing this, aeri grabbed your hand and guided you through a swarm of bodies, pressing your body close the hers as she found a comfortable space for you all to dance and move around in. as your friends made their way behind the both of you, brown narrowed eyes followed the group from above.

❀

planning parties was not an easy feat, sakura noticed yet again, preoccupied with the night’s festivities rather than her drop dead gorgeous girlfriend, y/n l/n.

after what seemed like hours after you left her apartment to pregame with chaewon, the blonde was ready to go greet you, finally free of any host duties for the time being. making her way downstairs, sakura pushed through sweaty bodies, some couples making out and what she swore was someone throwing up in a vase, when she stopped just above where the living room was. over looking the swarm of people pressed together on the floor below, the blonde scanned through the crowd, narrowed concentrated eyes focusing on finding one thing, you.

leaning towards the frame of the indoor balcony, sakura frowned at the sight below her. there you were, swaying your body carelessly, drink in hand as someone pressed against your body from behind. if sakura’s frown couldn’t get any deeper, a scowl adorned her face as she recognized the figure touching up and down your body, her teammate and fellow basketball player, aeri uchinaga.

now. everyone knew sakura’s parties had three rules:

1. no cops

2. no fights

3. no touching saki’s girl

and everyone knew you were her girl.

often seen around campus wearing her jacket, neck covered in bruises and marks that made sure everyone knew you were taken, and if that wasn’t enough, sakura made sure to hang out around you often (when she wasn’t practicing or cramming for exams), wether it was studying together or walking you to class or tagging along to club activities, sakura never strayed far from you. so. if everyone knew that you and sakura were together, why was her teammate pressed up against you, and why were you letting her?

turning her head to the side, sakura motioned for one of her underclassmen on the team fetch her a drink while she thought about what she wanted to do about aeri. the feeling of jealousy erupted in sakura’s body, her throat suddenly scratchy, feeling something claw at her chest at the sight before her. eyes set in place, sakura stared down at you, waiting if you would catch her gaze, even if it was momentarily.

❀

“wanna dance pretty girl?” aeri’s breath tickled the shell of your ear as she pulled you closer to her by your waist, slender arms dancing across your lower back. you let aeri sway your hips to the beat of the song, getting lost momentarily in the heat of the moment.

gulping your drink and frowning, remembering your girlfriend’s absence, you pulled away from aeri, missing how she rested one arm in the small on your back while you pulled your phone out, ready to text sakura. before you could do so, you felt someone shove aeri away from you.

“what the fuck are you doing, man?” “you know that’s saki’s girl,” frowned huh yunjin, co-captain of the basketball team.

“no need to get physical, jennifer,” “i was just dancing with my friend here,” aeri replied, a coy smile on her face.

“you know the rules, and i would hate for you to get benched the rest of the season…” the read headed jock trailed off, smirking at the black haired girl.

as yunjin and aeri bickered over the situation, you felt a pair of eyes on you, burning holes in the side of your head. turning around and facing up, you saw your girlfriend, an unreadable expression on her face as she downed her drink. wearing a white cropped tank top, some loose cargo pants so you could see the outline of her boxers, your oversized flannel hugging her body and a backwards cap with her hair down, you thought your girlfriend couldn’t get any hotter.

meeting her gaze, sakura stared at you, eyeing you up and down, one brow raised. you cocked your head to the side in response to her silent questioning, playing dumb as if your behavior wasn’t the cause of her sudden anger. sakura motioned for you to meet her upstairs, jaw flexed and brows furrowed as she ran a hand through her long blonde locks, waiting for you to move. seeing as aeri and yunjin continued bickering and chaewon was rather preoccupied with kazuha, you made your way upstairs to meet your girlfriend, squeezing through the mass of people yet again.

❀

your body buzzed with excitement at te thought of finally seeing your girlfriend after hours of yearning for her company. finishing your drink, you headed up the dark staircase that lead to sakura, dodging a few couples who where making out. reaching the top, you noticed that few people were on the indoor balcony, brows furrowing as your girlfriend was nowhere to be seen. before you could ask someone if they had seen your girlfriend, strong arms pulled you away from the balcony and into a corridor, leading you to one of the rooms. recognizing the blonde hair of your girlfriend, your chest tightened at the possibility of a potential argument between the two of you, knowing that sakura was often a jealous person.

lightly shoving your body into an open room, sakura closed the door with a click and didn’t even bother to turn on the light, pining you to the nearest wall, feeling your breath hitch at her sudden aggressive behavior.

“having fun tonight babygirl?” narrowed eyes scanned your face, moonlight adorning your features, giving sakura just the right amount of light she needed to see you clearly.

gulping, you nodded in response, shaky breaths leaving your lips as sakura’s slender arms caressed your body, pinching and groping any exposed skin.

“you didn’t answer my question babe, i can’t hear you,” sakura purred, lips nearing your neck.

“i- i am babe, you know i always have fun at your parties,” came your answer in shaky breaths, as your girlfriend nipped your neck while slender hands made their way up and down your body.

“looked like you were having way too much fun without me, though” sakura stopped her movements, facing your for the first time since you arrived in the empty room.

“what are you talking about?”

a beat. you almost whined at the loss of sakura’s mouth on your neck. before you could argue though, slender fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing lightly.

“is this really how you want to play it?” taunted the blonde, fingers still wrapped around your neck.

a soft whimper escaped your lips.

sakura pulled back slightly, her eyes narrowing as she scanned your face, a flicker of jealousy and possessiveness in her gaze.

"you didn’t answer my question babe,” she purred, lips now by your ear. “i can’t hear you.”

you swallowed hard, the pressure of her slender hands on your body sending shivers down your spine. you tried to speak, but your mind was buzzing with desire, making it difficult to form coherent thoughts.

sakura noticed your struggle to speak, a smirk tugging at her lips. slender continued their teasing movements up and down your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“oh, so now you’re speechless,” she said, her voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. “and here i thought you were enjoying yourself without me."

the mention of your previous behavior sent a pang of guilt through your chest, but you tried to keep your emotions in check, knowing better than to fuel your girlfriend’s jealousy.

sakura’s grip on your neck tightened fractionally, her eyes locked onto yours in a silent challenge. you knew better than to argue, but you couldn’t help the spark of defiance that flickered within.

"i- i swear i wasn’t doing anything,” you managed to choke out, your voice a mix of arousal and desperation. “you know i only have eyes for you.”

the blonde’s eyebrows furrowed as she considered your words. her eyes darkened, and her hold on your neck tightened even further.

"are you really trying to convince me that you weren’t trying to put on a little show down there?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous. “cause i’m not buying it, babygirl."

“with aeri? you know that’s just how she is… plus, yunjin already took care of that, i’m sure she’s benched for the rest of the season.”

sakura chuckled low in her throat, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. she seemed to be slowly letting go of her jealousy, the mention of her best friends actions appeasing her. “yunjin threatened her to stay away from you?" she repeated, a hint of happiness in her voice, as a cheeky smile ghosted her lips. "looks like i owe yunjin a thanks for making sure people obey the house rules, since someone didn’t quite care for them…” she trailed off, fingers threatening to squeeze your neck slightly.

a pout adorned your features, as you looked up at sakura with big doe round eyes, just wanting the disagreement to end. “can we head back down? i want to dance with you,” you pleased as you took sakura’s hand in your own, kissing the hand that was just around your neck, her other hand still on your waist.

“how about a kiss for my troubles? i’ve missed you,” she lifted her hand and caressed your cheek, thumb brushing over your lips softly. eyes darkening as she pulled you in even closer, holding onto you firmly.

soft lips pressed against yours, hands skidding around your body, pulling you flush against her as she kissed you fiercely, the intensity of the moment making your body feel like it was on fire.

the blonde suddenly pulled back, her breath heavy and her eyes half-lidded with desire. contemplating her next move, fingers tracing small circles on your hips. with a determined look, she looked into your eyes and spoke, her voice low and filled with promise.

"we’re not done yet, babygirl,” she said, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “there’s so much more i want to do with you before we even think about heading back down.”

needless to say, if people at the party didn’t know it before, by the time you headed back down, it was pretty obvious who you belonged to.

[siriuslystyle1989]

Illicit Affairs

Eris Vanserra x Rhys!sister reader

warnings: Angst, Rhys being annoying :(

masterlist

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

"We're all going to Rita's tonight, if you want to join." Mor spoke to her cousin, motioning to the inner circle.

"I would love to, but I'm visiting a friend tonight." Y/n replied her voice laced with false apology that was so convincing it even surprised herself.

"I swear you're always visiting someone Y/n" Cassian spoke, chewing loudly on his toast as Nesta scowled at her mate.

He leant forward and smirked at her knowingly.

"Ew stop." Y/n grimaced "It's nothing like that just a few friends I've got back in contact with recently."

"Hmmmm." Cassian was not convinced.

"Anyway, I've got to go, I'll see you all in a few days."

And with that, Y/n left. Her leather boots clicking on the cobblestone streets as she winnowed away.

............................................................................................................................

The girl arrived in front of the large doors of the forest house, breathing in a sigh of relief at the comforting atmosphere.

She raised her hand to knock but it met nothing as the door swung open to reveal her mate.

Eris Vanserra.

The redheaded male looked down at her with a smirk and spoke, voice smooth and sultry.

"Hello my fawn."

Y/n moved towards Eris, swinging her arms around his middle, snuggling her face into his chest as he kissed her hair.

"I missed you." She murmured, trying to pull him impossibly closer to her.

Eris let out a low chuckle, as he moved them further into the house.

Falling down onto the sofa, Eris dragged Y/n on top of him, resting her head on his chest snuggling down.

Kissing the top of her head, Eris stroked her hair seemingly in a comfortable bliss.

"Eris." Y/n spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Yes my love?" He replied, concern lacing his tone.

"I'm afraid my family have become... suspicious of me." She bit her lip and looked up at him with worry.

Eris sighed and continued stroking her hair.

"Whatever you want to do, I will back you. If you want to tell them, tell them, if you don't, don't. The decision is yours sweetheart." He stated.

"I just- I just don't know how much longer I can keep this from them all, especially Rhys." Y/n felt her eyes well up with tears.

Eris' heart broke at the sight as he pulled his mate closer to him, kissing her tears away.

"So there's your answer baby, tell them."

Y/n nodded, anxious thoughts consuming her mind as her head fell into the crook of Eris' neck.

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

Leaving Eris was always hard but the pair had to carry on as normal. Eris not wanting his father to know about Y/n and Y/n not particularly wanting her family to know about Eris, it was something they had to get used to.

They found ways of communicating: sending emotions through the bond, meeting up whenever they could, writing letters to each other.

This is how Y/n found herself on a Tuesday morning, reading through the copious amounts of love letters her mate had sent, over a cup of morning tea.

Unfortunately this was short lived as a harsh knock was heard on her door, followed by the sound of it opening.

"It's just me." Her brother's voice bounded off the walls before she even had time to consider hiding the letters.

"Hi Rhys."

"Hey Y/n/n" He spoke with a smile, pulling the girl into a hug.

"I just came to check up on you, I feel like I haven't seen you in-" His words paused and Y/n felt her heart drop into oblivion.

"Who are all these letters from?"

"Rhys, they're- they're private!" She tried to grab the letters as he picked one up.

Clear as day.

'from your mate, Eris.'

"What the fuck Y/n."

"Rhys just- just let me explain- please" She attempted to reason with her brother as anger flamed his eyes.

"What is there to explain Y/n! After what he did to Mor..." He spat, his face laced with disgust.

"You never tried to hear his side of the story Rhysand. Maybe he's not as bad as you think he is-" Y/n spoke, trying to get her brother to look her in the eye.

"Who are you. Genuinely I don't even know you." Rhys muttered looking down to the floor, shaking his head and pulling at his hair.

"Rhys- please- just listen-"

"It's him or us." He finally looked her in the eye.

"W- what?" Y/n replied, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.

"It's him or us. Your family or him. Your title or him."

"Rhys, don't make me choose you can't-"

"Oh I can." Rhysand replied, eyes wild with anger.

Y/n looked down, eyes scanning the letters on the table. She couldn't begin to imagine a life without Eris.

"Him."

Shock fell to Rhysand's features

"You are no sister of mine." He muttered as he barged out of her home, leaving the door swinging wide open.

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

Eris lay his head back on the sofa, one of his hounds making its way up to put its head on his lap.

KNOCK

The sound made the hound jump up and start whining. Eris looked down concerned and began making his way to the door.

As it opened with a creak, Eris was met with the tear stained face of his mate.

"Y/n/n, my love what happened."

"Rhys knows, he saw the letters." She spoke in between sobs falling into his arms.

"Shhhh" Eris cooed, stroking her back to calm the girl down "Its okay sweetheart, everything will be just fine."

They moved into the house, Y/n letting out a wet laugh as Eris' hounds fussed over her.

"Okay fawn." Eris spoke, sitting her on his lap. "Tell me what happened."

"Rhys came into my house, and saw the letters." Y/n shakily begun as her mate nodded, holding her hand coaxing her to go on.

"And he told me I had to choose you or my family. And when I said I'd choose you, he told me- he told me I was no sister of his." At this she let out a small sob and turned to look Eris in the eye.

"You chose me?" he spoke up.

"Of course I chose you." Y/n laughed through a sob.

"Y/n. I promise this will sort itself out, Rhysand will come around. You're his sister, he just needs time to process it." He kissed her face gently, pulling her closer.

"I love you." She sighed into him, feeling the most at ease she had all day.

"I love you too, whatever happens I swear to you, I'll always be here."

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

A/N: I am SO sorry for my absence school is killing me. Anyway SUE ME im obsessed with Eris

[rosenclaws]

Hello😸 I saw that you have requests open and I’m still on that Leopold high‼️

So, could I request a little something where Leo is jealous of the attention Reader is getting and tries to get their attention back on him?

(I’d prefer if Reader was gender neutral but fem is fine too‼️)

a/n: omg jealous leo is sooo cute. That scene in the movie where he gets jealous of Kate's boss is too good. I took a lot of inspiration from that. Also there is a lot of wine talk in this and I do not know anything about wine so don't come for me for incorrect wine information okay

warnings: no pronouns used for the reader, jealous leo, asshole corporate guy

Leopold has been exposed to many unbelievable things in the past year. Time travel, television, cell phones, and the worst of all. Frozen food trays. However what Leopold isn’t used to is this feeling twisting and turning inside of his stomach. Jealously. The collar of his shirt starts to itch uncomfortably, not quite used to the wear of the 21st century. Business casual as you had called it.

He had been to many parties back in his time but they were nothing like they are now. This was no party to him. As you had explained they were more for celebrating themselves and showing off how successful the company. Still what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn't accompany you. Ever the gentleman he is as he leads you through the crowd of people.

He had offered to get drinks as you go and mingle. With two glasses of wine in his hands he made his way back to you. Only to find you trapped in a conversation with a man he had never heard of before. He can feel his jaw clench as he slides right next to you. Handing you your drink and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Oh Leopold this is Mason," Leopold's eyes narrow as he notices Mason look him up and down, a smug look in his eye.

"You're the butter commercial guy." Mason says with a smirk. You feel Leopold tense slightly but he flashes his smile and reaches his hand out.

"Yes, and you are?" Leopold grips his hand a little too tight as they shake hands. You place your hand on Leopold's arm as you butt back into the conversation.

"He's new-"

"I'm the new director of marketing." He cuts you off and Leopold feels anger bubbling inside of him. Before either of you or Leopold could speak he starts talking.

Dominating the conversation with stories of how successful he's been and all the wonderful things he's done. He can't help but feel the jealously build in his gut. Your attention is on this arrogant man who is clearly trying to court you despite Leopold standing right next to you.

"You know, to be in marketing you need to have a certain, charisma about you." He glances over at you and flashes a smile. He takes a sip of his champagne and grimaces.

"Of course they got the cheap stuff, back home I have bottles of the finest wine. A bottle of champagne called La Romanée from 1873. Expensive yes but I would be happy to share. Maybe come back to my place and I'll show you." Leopold chuckles which makes Mason look to him.

"Something funny?" Leopold looks at him with a sudden confidence.

"No no. Just that from my memory that wine is from 1870 and it's pinot noir, not a champagne." Leopold raises an eyebrow as Mason starts to stammer.

"I think you've got your information wrong. My guy is a very reputable wine seller." He has a false confidence about him that Leopold can see right through. He grins, taking a sip of his own wine. He knows he isn't.

"I would contact your merchant, but perhaps I am mistaken." The damage is done as Mason starts to turn red from anger. Leopold takes a step closer. He's a polite man but he even he has his limits.

"I must add, that attempting to court someone who is already taken really is in poor taste. Simply put, you're making a fool of yourself." Mason mumbles something under his breath before stalking away in defeat. You finally let out the laugh that you had been holding in. Relieved that you were finally alone with Leo for the night.

"What a dick." You huff as pull Leopold to the side of the room.

"Didn't think you were the jealous type." You tease as Leopold starts to calm down. He sees Mason go over to what appeared to be a very important group of people. A sense of guilt washes over him. An egotistical, dick as you put it, he may be but he was still an important figure at your company.

"Forgive me if I have overstepped my place. I fear that jealously had blinded me and I acted out of line." You place your hand on top of his, gently squeezing his hand.

"You didn't, he's your typical asshole corporate higher up. It was nice seeing someone put him in his place a little." Also seeing him jealous was hot. But you'll tell him that later. You lean in and kiss him on the cheek.

"How do you know so much about wine?" He shrugs and places his now empty glass down.

"I visited Bordeaux in my youth before moving to New York." You stare at him in awe, his life before he met you was constantly surprising you.

"I want to hear more." You slowly start dragging him to the exit.

"Let's ditch this party and go home. I have a bottle of wine I got for 20 bucks that I'd be happy to share." You say, mocking the words that Mason had said to you. Leopold laughs as he places a hand on your back, guiding you away from the party.

"It's no fancy wine from France but I hope it will do." Once you're clear of the door he gently presses you against the wall. Capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.

"The best wine is any I get to share with you." He says sincerely, brushing his thumb across your lips.

He kisses you again. The sound of footsteps pass by but he could care less. A small part of him wanting to show that you are his and he is yours. He can't help it. Anyone with you in their life would feel the same way. Too bad for them, your his now.

His and no one else's.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

He’s not a NRC student but…

Rollo: “What are YOU doing here?” (Assuming that pre Playful Land piece you wrote happened and Rollo just happened to be at NRC for whatever reason.)

[Referencing this fic!]

This interaction is fr the "wow, these people are so weird; thank god I'm the normal one" meme 🤡 Pretend Gidel's off chasing butterflies or something--

So tell me, do you wanna go?

“What are YOU doing here?!”

The words had been taken right out of his mouth. They were spoken simultaneously, two accusatory fingers pointing in the opposite directions. One away from him, one toward…

A young man with a silvery bowl cut, bangs short, dark circles under his even darker eyes shaded by a tricone hat. His robes were elaborate in their stitching, golden thread spinning into flowers that hugged his waist and circles his arms. The aura he radiated was quiet but intense, all the heat and power of a devastating wildfire contained in a single human being.

“I remember you!” Fellow cried, brusque with his declaration. “You’re that shitty brat with the awful personality! The one that brushed us off at the docks and threatened to set me on fire!"

"And you are the incredibly shifty, invasive conman who sought to lure innocent children into the claws of magic." Rollo grimaced, pressing a handkerchief to his nose. "... It seems you've dropped the polite pretenses since our last encounter."

"Yeah, well, no point in puttin' on those airs anymore. I left my last job, so I'm not obligated to kiss ass."

"How... good for you."

Rollo’s reply, while curt, was phrased politely enough—but the pause stuck out. His eyes burned with disdain, as though he were regarding something offensive. A piece of trash, maybe. No, dirt. Perhaps something even lower than dirt.

Rollo averted his gaze, as if to end the conversation then and there. The dismissive motion grinded Fellow’s gears, sandpaper rubbing on his skin.

What, am I not worth his time to talk to? Who does he think he is?!

Fellow clenched his jaw and forced a smile. “So, my good man! What have you been up to since we last met, hmm?”

“… Official business.” Rollo glanced at the documents tucked under one of his arms. “As Student Council President of Noble Bell College, it falls to me to act as our representative and to engage with other magic schools.”

Fellow blew out air through his teeth. “You’re a real hotshot, huh?”

One of the lucky ones, polished and put on a pedestal. Envy tugged at Fellow’s heartstrings. What he would give to be a part of that glittering world, not a worry to his name.

“One could say that, yes.” Rollo seemed to be frowning with his entire body. His expression, his posture. “Hmph. It is a burden I did not ask for. How troublesome.”

Fellow straightened—irked. “What are you talking about? You have any idea how many people would kill to be where you are? Be a little more grateful, wouldja?”

“Excuse me?” Rollo’s brows twitched. “Who are you to judge others and determine how they ought to behave?”

“You don’t have to be a somebody with a fancy title to know when there’s a bad seed around.”

“You do not know me,” Rollo said icily. “Do not presume that you do.”

You could never understand what I’ve been through!!

He looked the beastman up and down, noting the patchwork in his attire, the holes in his façade. “… Pray forgive that I do not place much stock in your word. You do not present as a scholar, nor an upstanding adult of any sort.”

The comment cut deep, striking at his core. Fellow lashed out in defense.

“S-So what?! I don’t need a hoity toity kid like you labelling me. You’re bound to school and its rules. Me? I’m free to go wherever I like, whenever I please.”

Rollo sniffed, unimpressed. “So you claim—yet you linger at the feet of this institution of those who worship sin. It’s perfectly clear what your motive is, Mr. Honest. Like an parasite drawn to rotting fruit, you seek to be in the vicinity of that power, hoping to leech some of it for yourself. You too are one of the mindless sheep clamoring for a crumb of magic, not recognizing that pursuit will inevitably lead to your demise.”

Fellow blinked. His anger wavered, mixing with confusion. “Wh-What the hell, kid! You always gotta talk like a doomer?! Unclench your face for a second and take a breather, sheesh! I’m getting depressed just standing here listening to you mouth off.”

Rollo scoffed. “If you ask me, you do not take life seriously enough.”

“Life’s meant to be fun. Not all work, no play. You’ll become a dull and jaded grown-up if you keep going down this path.”

“I would rather be that than a fool who holds fast to his childish delusions.”

"Psssh. Least I'm not a hardass. All the privilege in the world and you still gotta act all sour."

Rollo stared at him, his gaze cold and steely. Fellow returned it. The same thought filled both of their heads.

He isn't satisfied with what he has now. He wants something more for himself than this. He's...

Deplorable, Rollo thought.

A greedy bastard, Fellow thought.

And when, at last, the staring became too much for either to bare, Rollo coughed into a fist. "If you will excuse me. I mustn't dawdle. These documents have to be delivered to Headmaster Crowley in a timely manner."

He paused deliberately.

"... I will pray for you," Rollo murmured as he walked off, his steps brisk and snappy.

Fellow gawked after him, appalled.

"Yeah, good riddance!" he hollered. "Hope the door hits ya on the way out!!"

[regiawrites]

And There Will Be No Tenderness - S.R

Warning(s): Sub!Spencer, Fem!Dom!Reader, Brief Overstimulation, Riding, General Idiocy Word Count: 6134 Summary: Y/N and Reid never see eye-to-eye, but one kiss changes everything.

Garcia hustled into the conference room as quickly as she could with the height of her hot pink pumps, fiddling with the remote as she moved. "Good morning, my lovelies," She greeted the team. "Sorry for the hurry, but this one's a bad one."

"When are they good ones?" Rossi asked dryly as he flipped open the manilla folder in his hands.

"An excellent point," she granted, "but this one is particularly bad." 

She clicked the remote and a series of gruesome images appeared on the screen, so gruesome, in fact, that even Hotch's face twitched. Four women, clearly dead, were covered in blood, bruises, and an array of other injuries, although no two seemed similar.

"These unfortunate four are Kerry Whittingham, Jasmyn Willis, Carly Smythe and Louise Fresca," Garcia said, gesturing to each of the women as she did so. "All of these women have been missing for between 6 and 11 months, all reported missing by their families within a week of them vanishing."

"How have they been linked together?" Morgan asked. "They all have different causes of death." 

"Yeah," Y/N agreed. "Kerry Whittingham was evisceration, but it says here that Carly Smythe's cause of death was drowning. What's the connection?" 

"That is where things get really bad," Garcia said with a grimace before clicking the remote again. 

Four images of matching symbols appeared, each woman having the same mark burned into their wrists.

"Are those brands?" Y/N asked, horrified, making brief eye contact with JJ who mirrored her expression. 

"Human trafficking, maybe?" Emily suggested and Garcia nodded. 

"The local police department thinks so, yeah." 

"So, they're being sold-" Y/N started, but was cut off by Reid scoffing 'Obviously'. She shot him a glare but spared him no response as she continued. "-and showing up dead. Are there any signs of sexual abuse?" 

"Only on Jasmyn Willis," Garcia answered.

"So, they're not being sold to be sex slaves," Y/N guessed. "They're being sold to be killed."

"Or they're just being sold to whoever's interested," Reid contradicted, as he always did. "I doubt a human trafficker cares." 

"But they WOULD," Y/N argued with a roll of her eyes. "If they were being traded for sex, the trafficker would be more concerned with keeping them alive." 

"Y/L/N's right," Hotch said, and Y/N shot Reid a smug smile that he ignored. "A trafficker would want to keep the women alive so they could continue to bring in money. They're likely being kidnapped and traded with the sole purpose of being tortured and killed." 

"What like some kind of sick eBay for serial killers?" Rossi asked, face twisted in disgust.

"That's one way of looking at it," Hotch sighed as he stood. "Wheels up in 20."

As the team filed out of the room, Y/N glared at Reid as they walked towards the bullpen. "Stop contradicting me at every chance you get, asshole!" she snapped at him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"You know," he started, "research suggests that those who frequently use curse words are less intelligent than those that don't."

"Oh, shut up, Reid."

"Most likely due to a lack of adequate vocabulary," he continued.

"Shut up, Reid."

"I'm just saying, maybe you'd be less insecure about me 'contradicting' you if you-"

"If you're about to imply I'm an idiot, I will hit you," she told him, glaring up at him as they reached their desks. She leaned down to grab her go-bag from beneath her desk.

"You're also very quick to resort to threats of physical violence, which further suggests you have a lack of trust in your own intellect," he said, grabbing his own go-bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Don't profile me, Reid," she said, voice flat and unamused, before she turned and headed out. 

Trailing after her, Reid said, "I'm not profiling you; I'm making an observation about a coworker." 

"And your observation is that I'm stupid?" 

"I don't think you're stupid," he said with a shrug, and Y/N narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

"You don't?"

"You're a qualified profiler, you can't be stupid," he said. "I do, however, think you're reckless, untrusting of yourself and quick to jump to conclusions." 

"I'm not untrusting of myself," she argued, though she couldn't say she wasn't reckless. She was notorious for thinking with her heart and acting on impulse.

"If you weren't, my contradictions wouldn't bother you." 

"That is so not how that works!" she snapped. "How would you feel if every time you said anything, someone was like 'uhm, actually'?" As she said 'uhm, actually', her voice slipped into a high-pitched, nasally lilt, and she mimed pushing glasses up the bridge of her nose.

They reached the elevator, and continued to bicker as they stepped inside.

And for the whole elevator ride down. 

And for the whole walk to the jet. 

Mercifully, the pair sat at opposite ends of the jet, and didn't talk to each other for the flight, so the team had some peace.

 ***

Within a few hours, the team was set up in the conference room of a police station in Pasadena, Captain Ray Jenkins sitting among them. He was a tall, portly man with a thick moustache and a heavy brow.

"So, the suspect you have in custody had DNA matching two of the victims in the back of his van?" Y/N asked Jenkins.

"Yes, and he also had Carly Smythe's engagement ring in his glove box," he told them, showing them a picture of a diamond ring. "He's remaining silent, though." 

"I'd like to talk to him," she said, and Jenkins nodded. From somewhere beside her, Reid snorted, and she turned to glare at him. "What?" 

"I'm shocked you want to talk to him, is all," he commented with a tight-lipped smile. 

"Why would I not want to talk to a suspect?" she demanded, and he shrugged. 

"Talking involves patience. And tact."

"Oh, 'tact' says the most awkward person I've ever met," Y/N snapped. "I've had to watch you talk to women before, you don't have much tact then." 

Reid turned to face her straight on and level her with a glare, but Hotch held a hand up. "Don't start," was his only warning, effectively shutting them both up. "Y/L/N, you talk to the suspect." 

***

Kyle Hannigan was skinny.

That was the first thing Y/N had noticed about him as he sat across from her in the interrogation room. 

Skinny and short.

There was no way this man kidnapped those women, at least not on his own. 

"You didn't kill those women, Kyle," Y/N said, leaning on the desk between them, flipping through the pictures. 

"That's what I've been saying all this time," he huffed back, testy. As irritated as he sounded, he looked unnerved as his eyes flicked to-and-from the photographs of the mutilated women.

"You don't even know who killed them, do you, Kyle?" she pushed.

"No!" 

"I don't even think you touched them," she said, fighting back a smile when he raised a questioning brow at her. "I mean look at you-" she gestured to him, "-you're short, you're skinny. Jasmyn Willis was 5'9 and a weightlifter, she could have fought you off blindfolded." Kyle's jaw ticked at the insult, but he remained silent. "You're just the delivery driver." 

He stared at her, dark eyes looking up through his brows.

"So, if you're just the delivery driver, who got those women into the van, Kyle?" she asked. "And more importantly, who's running the operation?" 

He continued to stare at her, silent. 

"You know, whoever's above you in the food chain is absolutely going to let you go to prison for this," she told him. "Hell, they probably want you to take the fall. You gain nothing by protecting these people." 

"It'll be my word against his, and no one will believe me over him," he said, low and slow, leaning towards her with a glare. "So, what's the point?" She, too, leaned forward and matched his fiery glare with a cool, flat stare.

"Your word against who's, Kyle?" 

His eyes flicked towards the one-way mirror behind her, then back down to her, and she didn't miss the desperation in his eyes. 

He wanted to tell her.

He looked up at the CCTV camera positioned in the corner of the room.

"Who?" 

He continued to stare at her before raising his right hand, forming it into a claw shape and tapping it to his shoulder.

"That's all you're getting out of me," he said, before folding his arms over his chest.

***

"A claw shape that he tapped to his shoulder?" JJ asked. "What does that mean?" 

"It's ASL," Reid said matter-of-factly, pulling out his phone. 

"And what's it ASL for?" Jenkins asked him, and Reid shrugged. "I thought you were a genius."

"That doesn't mean I'm all-knowing," Reid said, simply. He began typing something into his phone.

"Great load of good that is, then," Jenkins grunted. "What do we do now?" 

"Our tech analyst is looking through his cell phone history to see if there's any suspicious activity that could be an accomplice," Hotch informed him, but Y/N didn't pay much attention to Jenkin's reply as her phone vibrated. 

She unlocked it and, surprised to see a text from Reid, she looked up to give him a questioning look, but he was pointedly not looking at her. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she tapped on the notification and had to force her face to remain neutral.

Reid: It's ASL for Captain.

And that was how Reid and Y/N found themselves snooping around Jenkin's office, looking for incriminating evidence. After forwarding Reid's text to Hotch and Garcia, she slipped into his office, followed by Reid.

"This is not how we're supposed to do this!" Reid hissed at her as she rifled through one of his drawers while he kept watch. "Nothing you find like this will be admissible in court."

"Yeah, yeah," she grunted, closing the drawer as quietly as she could before opening the next one down. 

"We're going to get caught." 

"Not if you do a good job keeping watch, we won't," she said, reaching for a drawer with a lock on it. She pulled and it didn't budge. "Shit, it's locked," she mumbled, looking around the desk for a paperclip, which she found in a small plastic cup, and bent it into an L-shape. 

"What are you doing?" Reid whispered, panicked and stepped away from the door.

"Keep watch!" she hissed back, wiggling the paperclip around and managing to twist the mechanism, unlocking the drawer. "Aha!"

"Why am I not surprised you can do that?" Reid asked, not looking at her. She glared at the back of his head.

"Because I'm a cornucopia runneth over of useful skills," she snarked as she started digging through the drawer. 

"Sure, that's why," he said, but she paid no mind as she started flicking through a folder she found. 

"Holy shit, Reid, I got something," she said, and he spun around to look at her.

"What, really?" he asked, walking over to her and she tilted the folder so he could see it. "Is that-?"

"Carly Smythe, yeah." 

From Y/N's hands, Carly Smythe's bruised, but very alive, face stared back at them from in front of a dirty wall. She was only wearing a white tank top in the picture, and her hair was flat and greasy, eyes hardened as she glared at the camera.

This picture wasn't a part of the investigation.

The picture was stapled to another sheet of paper, one with messy writing scrawled over it. 

Carly

24

140lbs

5'6

Brown eyes

Brown hair

No Tattoos

Limited known sexual history

Sweet voice

$10k min

$33k to Poseidon

"Oh my God," Reid muttered. 

"She isn't the only one either," Y/N said, flipping through the rest of the pages, through profiles of several women, including the four known victims. "We have to get this to Hotch." 

Before Reid could say anything, they heard Jenkins' voice coming from somewhere outside. Y/N's heart dropped.

"You were supposed to keep watch!" she whispered accusatorily at Reid, who sputtered out a response she didn't listen to as she lifted her shirt and shoved the folder into her pants, covering it when her shirt fell back down.

"What are you doing?" he asked her, eye flicking Wilding between her and the door as Jenkins' voice got closer. 

"Smuggling this out of here," she said, like it should have been obvious.

"And what excuse are you going to give him for us being in here?" he demanded, holding his hands up in distress.

"Kiss me," she commanded, and he choked.

"Excuse me?"

"Kiss me!"

And he did.

As the door handle turned, he surged forward and their mouths connected, lips crashing together. 

Reid grabbed Y/N's hips, pulling her body towards his as his tongue glided over hers, taking her by surprise as he took complete control of the kiss. She slid her hands into his hair, tugging it at the roots.

He whined into her mouth, and all higher thought ceased in Y/N's mind.

Pulling his hair harder, she kissed back with a punishing harshness, vaguely registering her ass hitting the desk as Reid pushed her against it, sliding his hands from her hips up to her waist, around her back and pulling her back against him. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged on it, making him whimper in a way that had her whole body heating up in response. 

"Ahem." 

Gasping, they tore away from each other and spun towards the door to see Jenkins smirking at them. "I don't think that's an appropriate workplace activity, Agents," he commented, and Y/N grinned in faux sheepishness. 

"Sorry, it’s all new," she said, pushing Reid away from her less harshly that she ordinarily would. "We can't keep our hands off of each other." 

"I won't tell your Captain, don't worry, sweetheart," he said, a look in his eye as he turned his gaze to her that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

Both Y/N and Reid managed to get out of the room, and the folder shoved into the front of Y/N's pants felt like it weighed a tonne.

It took less than 24 hours before Jenkins was on the other side of police custody, coughing up information about his clientele.

Six days later, four other men had been arrested for the murders of the women, and had several other murders linked to them.

Three weeks later, the Team had busted a huge ring of human trafficking. 

One month later, Y/N was still thinking about that kiss. 

Each member of The BAU had been rewarded (read: forced to take) a two-week period of leave after the events of the bust. Morgan had been shot, Rossi had a joint dislocated and, all-in-all, it was an incredibly stressful time.

Five days in and Y/N was going stir-crazy from both the boredom and the haunting thoughts of Reid’s mouth on hers. Every so often her mind would wonder to the plush look of his lips, or the intense furrow of his brow, or- when she was particularly out of control- the whine he’d made against her lips when she pulled his hair.

By day seven, she’d exhausted her Netflix subscription and had purchased Disney plus.

By day nine she’d nearly finished The Golden Girls and was out-of-her-mind bored.

As Dorothy made a snide comment, Y/N’s phone notification went off, and she practically jumped on it in all her enthusiasm. Her enthusiasm promptly dissipated when she realised the text was from Reid, and she rolled her eyes.

Reid: Are you busy?

You: No why?

Reid: I’m bored.

You: Okay and?

Reid: Are you telling me you’re not?

You: Well obviously but I didn’t text you to complain about it

Reid: Can I come over? Everyone else is busy. I’ll buy you pizza.

You: I can buy my own pizza

Reid: It tastes better when it’s free, no?

You: Fine you can come but if you don’t have the pizza I’m not letting you in

Reid: Deal. I’ll be there in an hour.

Oh, God, Reid was coming over.

She tidied up her living area, even rearranging the throw pillows on her couch before looking down at the ratty T-shirt she was wearing and had been wearing for a least three days. She debated leaving it on, but your skin tingled unpleasantly at the thought of Reid seeing it and she reluctantly decided to change.

But she couldn’t change into clean clothes without showering.

And if she was showering anyway, she may as well shave.

But if she shaves without exfoliating, she gets ingrown hairs.

That dangerous train of logic is what compelled her to take an ‘everything shower’, listening to music while she pampered her skin and ridded herself of all body hair. For Reid of all people too, to add insult to injury. He probably wouldn’t even appreciate it, not that she’d give him the chance to appreciate your silky-smooth legs, but still. Some acknowledgements of her immense efforts wouldn’t go amiss.

She stepped out of the shower and slathered herself in vanilla-scented lotion, before dressing into a simple pyjama set consisting of loose (but very short), plaid shorts and a black tank top. The doorbell rang just as she slid her feet into her slippers. Checking the clock, she rolled her eyes when she realised it had been almost exactly one hour since his last text, the punctual motherfucker.

She shuffled to the door and looked through the peephole to make sure it was actually Reid, snorting at the way the lens disfigured his face in a bizarre perspective, before letting him in. “Reid,” she greeted, as neutrally as she could when she wanted to tear into the pizza box that he was holding. It wasn’t lost on her that it was from her favourite local place.

“Y/L/N,” he responded in much the same tone, stepping in and slipping his shoes off and revealing a mismatched pair of truly bizarre socks, setting them on the shoe-rack beside the door. He’d known her for long enough to know she absolutely did not tolerate shoes inside her home, and she tried not to feel fond.

“That pepperoni?” she asked, jerking her head towards the pizza box.

“Obviously,” he said, shooting her a distinct look of irritation, like she’d asked a stupid question. “Hey, I don’t know your life,” she snapped. “You could be one of those freaks that like Hawaiian.”

“You know, it’s widely considered fact that the components of balanced flavour are ‘salt, acid and sugar’, so by that logic, a Hawaiian Pizza would-“

“Oh my God, you’ve been here less than five minutes and you’re already doing the thing,” she groaned, taking the pizza box from him and walking to the living area.

“What thing?” he asked, following behind her.

“The ‘uhm, actually’ thing!” she says, plopping down onto the couch and setting the box on the coffee table. He rolled his eyes again and sat down next to you, not deigning to respond.

Silence settled over the two of them.

Dying for anything to relieve the awkwardness, Y/N leaned over to grab a slice of pizza, aware of Reid’s eyes on her. She turned to shoot him a questioning look, but he didn’t meet her gaze and pointedly stared at the TV.

Fuck, his jaw was sharp, and his neck was an elegant arch.

An echo of his desperate whine ricocheted in her head for a moment as she stared at him.

Such a sweet noise from such sweet lips, pillowy and plush against hers. If a kiss was all it took to wring noises like that from him, she couldn’t help but be curious what noises he’d make if she put her hands places that weren’t his hair...

When he swallowed and cleared his throat, she snapped out of her stupor and chewed on her slice, turning back to the TV.

Half an hour later, neither of them had said anything. At some point, Y/N had taken the half-eaten pizza into the kitchen, and bought back a bottle of water for Spencer, who nodded in gratitude, but the awkward silence remained.

They snuck glances at each other, but it became apparent they didn’t know how to be civil with one another.

“So,” Y/N started clumsily. “You done anything interesting on your leave? “I- uh-“ he cleared his throat “-Re-read some of my favourite works in their original languages, I wanted to see if they held any nuances that got lost in their translation.” “Interesting,” Y/N said. “I imagine that killed time for about a day.”

“Yeah, it didn’t take long,” Reid laughed quietly. “I’ve spent the rest of the time writing to my mother and watching Doctor Who.” “It’s a good show. Tennant is the superior Doctor.” “Naturally,” Reid agreed, shockingly enough. “Although I’m partial to Eccleston for nostalgic reasons.”

“Who’s your favourite sidekick?” “Donna Noble,” he replied. “I think she had the most character, and her personality complimented The Doctor well.” “I thought Martha was cool, too,” Y/N said. “Even though she was obviously just a rebound for The Doctor to try to get over Rose.” “Some of my favourite episodes are from when Martha was on the show,” he told her and she smiled, smally at him.

“Really?” “Yeah! ‘The Waters of Mars’ was incredible!” Y/N felt her heart flutter at the way his eyes lit up and his mouth broke into a wide grin, deciding to ignore it. “Oh, God, that’s the one where the water’s poisoned and makes the people at the station into- like- zombies, right?” Y/N asked, twisting around in her seat to face him properly. “That freaked me out. Like the one in the library.”

“Where River Song is first introduced?”

The conversation flowed with an ease that was unfamiliar to them after that, and it turned out they had a lot more in common than either of them thought.

It wasn’t long before they were sifting through Y/N’s streaming service subscription, settling on a horror movie they were both fond of.

The Fly.

“You know, even with the clunky visual effects, this movie is still incredible,” Reid commented quietly, not looking away from the screen.

“Probably because it’s a romantic tragedy more than a horror movie,” Y/N said. “It doesn’t need to rely on visuals, the story-telling does most of the heavy lifting.” She turned to him. “Although the ‘clunky visual effects’ are better than some CGI I’ve seen recently.” Reid laughed at that and nodded. “Yeah, I can’t argue with that,” he said.

This was too weird, and it was making Y/N itch. It was making Y/N come closer to giving in to the urge to press her mouth to his.

“Shocking,” she said, drily, trying to shift their dynamic to what it normally was. “You usually contradict me every chance you get.” Reid stopped laughing and cast her a side-ways glance.

“I’m simply correcting you,” he said.

“My asshole you are,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “And don’t start with the whole ‘people who curse are less intelligent’ shit, or I will throw you out, pizza and all.” “And to think we managed to have several civil conversations,” he groaned, taking a sip of his water and rolling his eyes. “Well, it was nice while it lasted.” “I’m being perfectly civil,” Y/N said, knowing full-well that she wasn’t. “Just admit that you get off on proving to everyone that you’re smarter than them.” “You have no idea what I get off on,” he snapped, turning to her. When their eyes met, time stilled for a moment.

She’d never noticed before how his deep, brown eyes flashed gold in the light.

“What do you get off on then?”

The question had escaped her lips without her permission, and she abruptly snapped it closed as they looked at each other with wide eyes.

“What?” he asked wearing a look of pure shock, like he didn’t even believe he’d heard her correctly.

“Nothing!” she practically squawked, looking away from him and ignoring the feeling of her cheeks heating up.

“Did you just ask me what I get off on?” he choked out, looking incredulously at you as you awkwardly looked at him, looking away again immediately.

“Pfffft, no,” you lied, stupid as he’d clearly heard her.

“You totally did!”

“Okay, so maybe I did,” she admitted. “It kinda just slipped out, I don’t actually wanna know.” “Don’t you?” he asked, voice dropping into a husky tone she didn’t know he was capable of.

She gaped at him, not even knowing what to say. “I-“

“I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me since we kissed,” he told her, leaning forward. “Your eyes keeping dropping to my lips, and your pupils dilate when they do.” He leaned in closer to her. “You also keep absentmindedly biting, licking and playing with your lower lip when you look at me.” “…So?” she asked, not denying it. They both know he was too good a profiler to lie to, especially about something he’d observed himself.

“So, you can’t stop thinking about it,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “And you want to do it again.” When she didn’t say anything, he moved closer to her, so close, in fact, that they could feel each other’s breath puffing onto their faces.

“Do you want to know why I really asked you if I could come over tonight?” he asked, lips so close to hers it was agony.

“Why?” she asked breathlessly.

“Because I want that, too.” She gave in.

With both of her hands on his cheeks, she dragged him the extra inch forward and slotted her mouth against his, swallowing down a keen that threatened to bubble out at the contact. His long, deft fingers gripped her waist and pulled her closer to him, and she followed his pull as elegantly as she could to land in his lap.

Immediately, and like she’d been wishing she could do for a long month, she sunk her fingers back into those brown curls and tugged. The soft noise he made against her lips was hardly the high-pitched whine that had haunted her, but it was enough to make her double her efforts, pressing her body against his and kissing him with poorly hidden aggression. He matched her sudden ferocity, sliding his hands around to her ass and squeezing hard enough to have her breath stuttering out of her chest. When he chuckled against her mouth, she bit down on his lower lip, just a quick tug in between her teeth, but it was enough to make him gasp, and she took that as her opportunity to pull his head back by his hair and look down at him.

Eyes blown out, cheeks flushed pink and his lower lip already kiss-swollen, he already looked like a mess.

“God, I want to fucking ruin you,” she hissed, grinding down over his hips and grinning wickedly at the firmness she felt against her. He whined, his eyes flicking upwards momentarily before he refocused on her face. “Please do,” he gasped, rocking his hips up against her, gripping her ass again.

“Already begging?” she teased. He glared at her, but it was hollow, before he reached up to grab the back of her neck and drag her to his lips again.

When their lips crushed against each other’s, Y/N’s hands immediately started to rip at Reid’s shirt, almost ripping the buttons off in her haste to get it off him. He whined into her mouth at her aggression, reluctantly taking his hands off her to slide the sleeves of his button up off his arms, leaving his chest bare to her. She raked her nails down his chest, trails of pink following her fingertips, and he arched into her with a sweet keen. She pinched his nipple with one hand, and he gasped. Taking his surprise as an opportunity, she slid her mouth across his jaw to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, pausing to bite and suck at the sensitive juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Oh!” Reid moaned, thrusting his hips against her particularly hard at the overwhelming sensation. “Oh, God, Y/N, please.”

“Please what?” she taunted, continuing to leave marks on his neck, and continuing to tease his chest. She ground her hips against him far more firmly, speeding up her steady rhythm. “I don’t- I- Oh!” he struggled, breaking off into a whimper before he could get the words out.

“If I knew that this was all it took to get you to shut up, I’d have done it sooner,” she said, laughing cruelly when he glared at her. Still choking out a chain of whimpers and whines, he slid his hands up her tank top, cupping her breasts, long, deft fingers pinching her nipples harshly in retaliation. She squeaked, shocked, turning to him with her own glare. He gave her a paradoxically shy little smirk, proud of himself, and it infuriated her.

When she pushed herself backwards, down his legs and away from the bulge in his pants, he whined in protest. She pulled his zipper open, shoving the soft fabric of his boxers to pull his cock out, hot and heavy in her palm; it was bigger that she thought it would be, definitely bigger than average, and delightfully thick.  “Oh, God, what are you going to do with me?” he asked, voice breathless and desperate as he tried to buck into her hand, whining when her weight on his lap meant he couldn’t drive up enough to get any real friction.

“I’m gonna use you,” she told him, stroking his cock deliberately slow, squeezing around his sensitive head.

“Oh, fuck!”

“Until you can’t even think anymore.”

Nodding enthusiastically and gripping her hips, he tried to drag her back towards him, but she tsk’d. She placed a hand on his chest to push him onto the couch and used the leverage to stand up. Slowly, she began to push the waistband of her shorts down, the way he stared at the movement as though hypnotised flooded her brain with a heady feeling of power. “Reid?” she cooed, and it looked like it took a tremendous amount of effort for him to drag his eyes from her hips to her face.

“Ye-yeah?” he stuttered out, almost absentmindedly reaching for his cock and fisting himself in a loose grip. She bit her lip as she watched the tentative movement. “Do you have any condoms?” she asked, hoping to God he said yes. The hope was foiled when he looked at her with an expression of panic.

“No, shit, no, I don’t,” he huffed, and she could see him calling himself an idiot in his own head.

“Fuck it, I’m clean and on birth control,” she said. “Are you-?”

“Yes, I’m clean, Y/N,” he said, a pleading look on his face. “God, I’ve been thinking about this for a whole month, please don’t make me wait.” Ordinarily, she’d tease him, but seeing as she had felt exactly the same way, she finished sliding her shorts down her legs, leaving them on the floor as she straddled him once again. She pushed her hips down on his, grinding her wet pussy over the throbbing heat of his cock and they both gasped. “Please, don’t tease,” he begged, looking up at her with the saddest puppy dog eyes. “Just fuck me, oh my God, please.”

“Eager,” she teased and slapped her ass in retaliation, making her yelp and jolt forward, making her wetness slide over his cock once again. She started grinding down deliberately hard to get back at him.

He threw his head back and gasped, and she took that as a chance to start sucking and nibbling on the column of his throat.

It didn’t take long before he was whining in that sweet, sweet way that made her head spin. “Please!” he whimpered desperately, pushing his hips up to meet her movements, and she relented. Pulling away from his neck, she lifted herself up before sinking down on his cock.

“Fuck!” “Oh, God!”

He was fully inside of her, stretching her out in a dull ache as her adjusted to him. “Fuck, you’re so big,” she mumble, gently starting to rock as the ache lessened. He didn’t respond, and the glazed look in his eyes made her question if he’d even heard her. He grabbed her ass, kneading the firm flesh in a way she thoroughly appreciated.

Slowly, she started bouncing, and he screwed his eyes shut, whimpering quietly at the almost overwhelming feeling of her hot, wet pussy squeezing him. “You feel like heaven,” he whispered, jaw going slack as she started moving faster.

It didn’t take long before they we both panting, flushed and desperate as the moved against each other. At some point, Reid had wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck, licking and sucking and biting wherever he could reach.

Y/N sunk her hands into his hair, gripping it tightly to keep him there as the brutal pace she had set brought her closer to the edge. The way he was practically sobbing into her neck told her he was close, too.

“Reid,” she panted, pulling his head away from her neck by his hair. He looked up at her, flushed cheeks and mouth hanging open, eyebrows hitched and eyes watery. He looked so fucked out she couldn’t help the pride that rushed through her. “Are you close, baby?” she asked him with a cruel smirk, and he nodded pathetically, crying out when she gripped his hair tighter to cease the movement.

“Please,” he begged. “I’m so close!” “Don’t you dare cum before I do,” she hissed, leaning back a little so the hand that wasn’t in his hair could rub her clit.

“I’m trying, I’m trying, but you feel so good! Ah, ah, please cum, please cum, please cum!”

His begging, desperate and needy, pushed her over the edge, her fingers on her clit and his cock filling her up as she toppled over the precipice of her orgasm. She cried out his name as her walls shuddered around him, dragging him over too. He cried out, louder than he had before as his orgasm wreaked havoc on his body, his legs shaking and tears finally dropping onto his cheeks. He babbled an incoherent stream of pleas as oversensitivity kicked in, crying that it was too much as she rode her own orgasm.

Her bouncing slowed to a still and she fell against him, both breathing heavily and flushed.

It took several minutes for both to catch their breath, and for coherent thought to be functional again.

Y/N hurried into the bathroom to clean herself up and tried to not spiral into panic; not only had she has sex with a coworker and totally violated the fraternisation policies at the bureau she’d had sex with Reid. Worse, she realised she didn’t regret it. She should, but she doesn’t, and she has never believed in being guilty about things that don’t warrant guilt.

She supposed it was harmless, really. Honestly, if they had this new way of working out their animosity towards each other, they’d probably be more pleasant to be around.

So, really, fucking him was for the good of the team.

Yeah, I’m totally doing it for the team, she told herself as she finished cleaning herself up.

When she left the bathroom and returned to the living room, his shirt was back on his body and his cock was tucked back into his pants. He was sitting there looking so awkward it was painful, and he didn’t look at her when she sat beside him.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly, and she sighed. “No, we shouldn’t have,” she agreed. He nodded, eyes not moving from his hands where they were folded in his lap. “So, what now?” he asked.

“I have condoms in my dresser,” she offered, laughing when his head shot up and he looked at her so incredulous it would have been offensive if it wasn’t so funny. “You don’t want to do it again?” “No, no, I do,” he rushed out with pinkening cheeks. “I just didn’t think that you’d want to! “Well, I do,” she said matter-of-factly before standing up and walking towards the bedroom. When he didn’t immediately follow, she turned around with a raised eyebrow. “Are you coming or not?” she asked.

Reid had quite possibly never moved so fast in his life as he followed her giggles to her bedroom.

[somethingvicked]

Forget me (not) pt 3

warnings: female reader, talk of memory loss, angst to fluff

You stared at Eddie, your head pounding from the sudden overload of information that just broke through the wall that had been there.

You felt the overwhelming love you had for Eddie, had had for so long. But you also remembered what he had told you, how he had pushed you aside like you were nothing, for Chrissy.

You pulled back, as if he had burned you and Eddie looked at you in panic, like a deer in the headlights.

“Easy, sweetheart, easy…” he started and you suddenly saw red.

“Don’t call me that!” you snapped and he paled. “I’m not your sweetheart any longer, don’t you remember? Because I sure do.”

But at the same time… Eddie had been at your side practically all this time. Why had he? Wasn’t he scared what Chrissy would think?

No, of course he wasn’t. Because he wanted to stay friends with you, he just didn’t want you to have feelings for him. And then you forgot them, a small voice in your head said.

Well, it worked out quite well for him, didn’t it?

You rose to your feet and Eddie quickly did the same, still looking at you like you were some unstable lunatic with a ticking bomb.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you said, your voice tense. “It clearly worked. And so I guess you better go back to Chrissy, since I now remember everything.”

“Wait, no, Y/N, it’s not like that…”

“I’m back to my old self now, Eddie,” you growled at him. “You don’t need to protect me anymore or do your duty as a friend.”

“Sweetheart, me and Chrissy broke up!”

That made you stop dead in your tracks and you turned around. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, panting as if he was in pain. “About two weeks after… your accident. She didn’t like that I spent all my time with you…”

You hadn’t thought it was possible for you to be more angry at him, but lo and behold!

“Are you saying it’s my fault she dumped you, Munson?!” you screeched, grimacing as the loud sound made your headache worse.

“No!” Eddie all but squeaked, “I… I’m trying to say that… being at your side was all I wanted. What happened… it made me realize… how much you mean to me. And I know I was an idiot, an insensitive dolt, a goddamn jerk! I hate myself for treating you that way and making you feel like you were not the most important person in my life! Always had been.”

By now he was nearly sobbing, tears brimming in his eyes. “When I heard what had happened… you have no idea… I thought you had died. And the last conversation I had with you was that I wished  you forgot everything.”

“And I did,” you said, shaking your head, still angry with him, but his tears and broken puppy eyes had made it go down a little. The fucker, even when he didn’t try he knew how to play you like a fiddle.

“Yes, you did. You didn’t remember me. I know I deserved it. To have you looking at me like I was a stranger, not being allowed to tickle you or carry you on my back… you remembering everyone else, but not me. I deserved that. But Y/N… please believe me when I say that you are the most important person in my life. When you left that day I sat and contemplated who I would miss more if I would never see them again – you or Chrissy. And… me never seeing Chrissy again, it didn’t made that much of a difference. But the thought of being without you, it made me… I felt shattered. I was going to call you, but then they called me and told me what had happened.”

You rubbed your temples. All of this… it was too much for you to handle right now.

“I… I need to go home,” you got out. “Think about all this.”

“I’ll drive you,” Eddie said, but you shook your head. “I want to be alone.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie said with a frown. “I’m not letting you walk home after regaining your memories and had such a shock. What if something happens? No, get in the van. I’ll drive you. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but you’re not walking.”

A part of you wanted to smile, both at his stubbornness and with how he cared for you. But the rest of you were still so shaky after everything that you just pushed it away.

A little while later you sat in your room, back at your desk with the photo album in front of you. Eddie had kept his promise and not talked to you the whole way home, even though he had glanced over at you at least one time every minute.

Despite having your memory back completely you felt more confused than ever.

Thankfully your mother had gone to the grocery store, thinking you were spending the day with Eddie, so you didn’t have to go through the roller coaster to tell her you were back to normal.

You weren’t sure what to do with Eddie. Remembering how he had treated you when he got together with Chrissy and his reaction when you told him how you felt about him… it made you feel heartbroken all over again but also angry.

And then… then you remembered how he had supported you and stood by you these last weeks, never quitting on you despite you not remembering anything about him, no matter how he had tried.

It felt like your head was about to explode. This was just too big and complicated for you to take on by yourself.

Usually you went to Eddie if you needed advice and talk something out but obviously that was a no go.

You didn’t want to talk to your mother either, it was enough you had to tell her your memory was back – your parents had been through hell, probably more so than you these last couple of weeks, you didn’t want to worry them even more.

After some time of contemplating you decided to call Steve. He was Eddie’s friend, he was your friend, and he knew the history between you two. He seemed like a good choice.

Steve didn’t dawdle, he arrived less than twenty minutes after you hung up. The first thing he did when you opened the door was to give you a big hug.

“I’m so happy your memory is fully recovered,” he told you with a smile. “Although I still would’ve hoped you forgot about me being King Steve forever.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that as you two walked up to your room.

You and Steve sat at the floor on your bedroom, backs leaned against your bed as you told him about the moment when you remembered everything, your reaction to Eddie, and how you felt so lost on what to do now.

Steve was quiet for a moment, running a hand through his hair, clearly deep in thought.

“You know I think what he did to you was really shitty. I seriously could have beaten him up for being so insensitive,” he told you, making you snort.

“But, he did tell me the same story – that even before you crashed into the tree he was imagining his life without you and without Chrissy. It was you that he almost broke down over losing. And this whole time… please forgive me for this, Y/N, but I actually told him that perhaps he should give you some space, do something else when the time went on and you didn’t remember a single thing about him. It was slowly draining him, he… he couldn’t fall asleep without looking at old pictures of you, crying.”

You were shocked. “Really?”

“Yeah. And – let me just say I didn’t exactly agree with that either – but he didn’t even look at Chrissy after your accident. Couldn’t stand to be near her. I think… I think he felt like it was his fault, what had happened to you, because he had been with her.”

“But I didn’t want him to do this because he felt guilty!” you protested.

“That’s what I said too, but he insisted that’s not why. And you know what? I believed him.”

Steve smiled at you and patted your shoulder. “Y/N, love is not easy. Everyone keeps saying it is but it’s really a fucking mess. When I was with Nancy I spray painted the sign of the cinema, calling her a slut. All because I thought she had cheated on me. The first girl I loved and I did that to her.”

You shook your head. You remembered that very clearly. It was before you and Steve became friends but you had still heard about it from the others.

“What I’m saying is… yes, Eddie was a goddamn idiot. But he realized he was and what he did wrong. And he has tried to make it right, and he will keep trying to make it right, if you let him. So… only you can decide whether you want to forgive Eddie or not, Y/N. But… perhaps you should try and do what he did. Try imagining the rest of your life without him. Does that feel like something you would be okay with?”

Your felt your breath hitch and your stomach turn into knots. A life without Eddie? It felt like… like suddenly the same feeling from your memory loss was back. Only now it wasn’t the past you missed but the future. It was only blank.

“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Then there’s your answer,” Steve told you softly.

Steve drove you to the trailer park and you walked up to the Munson’s trailer and knocked on the door.

Eddie opened, and you got the feeling of dejá vu from the last time you had come here. But Eddie sure looked different.

He looked as if he had cried, his hair a nest, as if he had ran his fingers through the curls multiple times, his knuckles bruised as if he had punched a wall.

“Y/N?” he wondered in surprise when he saw you.

“Hey,” you said, smiling weakly. “Look, Eddie…”

“Is this the moment where you… you’re going to tell me that you never want to see me again?” Eddie interrupted, his voice trembling, and it honestly broke your heart.

“No,” you told, reaching out a pushing a curl out of his face. “I… I’m still quite angry with you for what you did. But… it feels like this whole thing, what happened… it was some sort of lesson for both of us. A lesson for you to have me forget you. And a lesson for me, how it would feel to have no connection to you. The feeling, when I think back of how it felt, not knowing everything that has happened between us… it was horrible. I don’t want to be without you again, or ever forget you again. Not even the stupid thing you did, even though it makes me want to shake you.”

Eddie let out a gasp and then he all but squished you against him, holding you so hard you were sure you would have bruises.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he whispered, carefully kissing your temple. The bruises were healed but he remembered them all too vividly, kissing every spot where they had been.

“I’m so sorry for what I did. And for how I behaved when I started dating Chrissy. I just… I guess I got caught up with how it felt that someone popular actually wanted me. And in the back of my head I always thought you and I would have more time. I was an idiot, I know that. I will never make that mistake again.”

He inhaled before he continued: “And I’m so sorry that I never realized… that you loved me. I… I wished I had realized it sooner but I didn’t…”

You shushed him. “I know. That’s what I mean, that maybe the accident happening… it was a wake up call for both of us.”

Eddie nodded. “Yes. I’ve always loved you, sweetheart. But it’s more than that. You… you’re my person. The reason why it has never worked out with any other girl. Why I couldn’t see a future with Chrissy. Because you were the one.”

Now it was your turn to blink back tears.

Eddie suddenly pulled something from his pocket. Your eyes widened when you saw it was the dried flower from the scene of the accident.

“I found it in the van, on the passenger seat,” Eddie said. “I want you to have this and save it. As a reminder, that you will never forget me again. And as a promise from me, that I will never forget you’re the only one I want.”

You smiled, and placed the blue Forget-me-not behind your ear.

“The only one?”

“The only one,” Eddie promised, sealing it with a kiss.

please, like, comment and reblog!

Your likes are wonderful but reblogs expand my reading circle.

@ali-r3n @quinnyficsy @animechick555 @h-ness1944 @eddie-is-a-god

@megatronmunson @melodymunson @rainybloo28

@daisy-munson @bartkevicius03 @stylesxmunson @ziggeddie @ali-in-w0nderland @up-l4te-4t-n1ght @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @duncanhillscoffeecups

@amandahobblepot @xplrnowornever

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 5

Hey guys!! Things are finally starting to move in this story, I'm not sure how much longer we have, but I just started Eddie's training, so whooo!!

In this we have Eddie being dumb, fixing it, and then apologizing properly! He can be taught!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

Robin smacked the back of Steve’s head as she walked past. “No staring. It’s creepy!”

Steve ducked his head and blushed. He had been caught staring so many times today that, yeah, it was starting to be a little creepy now. But in all fairness, Eddie was staring right back. A thought that sent Steve spiraling. But like in a ‘oh shit, that’s hot!’ way.

Which he really, really needed to tamp down on, because yes, the guy was eighteen, but like barely.

“You should just go talk to him,” Robin encouraged gently. Because for all her teasing, she knew how important it was for Steve to talk to him about his swimming.

Steve nodded. He had time until his next class. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He walked up to Eddie and flashed him his patented Harrington smile.

“Hey, you’re Eddie, right?” he said warmly. “Robin tells me you like to swim on Saturdays, yeah?”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “Um, hi. Yup! That’s me. My mom used to call me her little fish.”

Steve grinned. He liked that. He wished his mom had taken that kind of interest in his swimming. “I saw you swimming when I was helping Joyce set up for the party last weekend and you were really good! Did you compete in high school?”

“Nah,” Eddie said with a shrug. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t get someone to take me that early in the morning so I stopped. Competed in middle school, though. I was decent enough, I guess.”

Steve was shocked. To have to stop just when you hit your stride must have been quite the blow.

“That fucking sucks, man,” Steve said with a grimace. He scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “You ever think about competing on the national level? Because I really think you could.”

Eddie rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Yeah, right. I couldn’t afford the coach let alone all the traveling I’d have to do to make it to meets. I’m going to have to pass on that one.”

“There’s actually a program here for people who can’t afford it,” Steve hedged. “Robin used it when we both first started out.” He was fighting back the urge to start biting his nails.

Eddie’s eyes narrowed and Steve gulped. “Is that so?” He nodded. “Well ain’t that nice. Still not interested.”

Steve wished the floor would swallow him or that pool would suddenly flood or that he’d get a brain aneurysm and die, right there on the spot. He pursed his lips together and nodded with his whole upper body. He turned on his heel and walked away.

When he was about to the other side of the pool, Eddie called out, “Who would even want to coach me?”

Steve turned around with a grin. “I would.” Then he spun on his toes and walked out of the pool area to the cool fresh air of the hallway.

~

Once Steve was out of the pool area and into the hall, he had a full on panic attack. He sank to the floor and held his head in his hands. Why the fuck did he offer to coach Eddie? He didn’t know Eddie, he was afraid of deep water, and he hadn’t even talked to Joyce yet.

It was a real mess now, but the words just forced themselves from him and now he wants to gobble them back up. Well maybe they’ll just avoid each other from now on. They had done a pretty good job up to this point, they could just continue as normal and forget all about how Steve made a fool of his himself.

Then slowly he began to come out of his panic attack to the sounds of soft words and the gentle rubbing of his wrists with their thumbs. His breathing evened, his heart rate dropped, and his eyes fluttered open.

The eyes looking back at him were warm chocolate brown and deeply concerned. The angel in front of him said something but Steve couldn’t hear. Then all at once all the sounds came rushing back into the hall. And suddenly there were more people in the hall with him than he thought. In addition to Eddie who was the one holding his hands, Robin and Joyce were there too.

“I think he’s coming around,” Joyce said gently as Steve’s eyes focused on her. “Hey, there, Steve. Are you okay now?”

Steve gulped, nodding. He was feeling better. In fact he didn’t have a pounding headache like he usually had after an episode. “My head doesn’t hurt.” He looked over at Robin in confusion. “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“Uh...” Eddie said hesitantly. “I might have something to do with that. I used some calming techniques my friend’s dad showed me.”

Steve turned to him, mouth open in awe. “Oh. Thank you.” He didn’t know what to do with that because technically it was his conversation with Eddie which caused the panic attack in the first place. But maybe that’s why Eddie helped, because he knew he’d caused it. That was a nice thought, Steve supposed.

Eddie smiled and stood back up. “I have to get back to work. You take care of yourself, okay Stevie?”

Steve nodded and Eddie slapped his hands on his knees, standing up. He muttered goodbye to the two women and then wandered off.

As Robin helped him to his feet, she said dryly, “I take it the conversation didn’t go well.”

He barked out a laugh causing Joyce to look back and forth between them in confusion. So Steve put her out of her misery. “I was telling him that he was good enough of a swimmer to compete, but I think he thought I was mocking him or something, because he kinda blew me off.”

He rubbed his temples for a moment before adding. “I even offered to coach him.”

Joyce blinked at him for a moment. “You offered what now?”

When he looked up both Robin and Joyce were looking at him with large, wide eyes and slack jaws. “Yeah, that’s kinda what started the panic attack if I’m honest. I know I am like the worst person for the job with all my...” he waved his hand helplessly. Then he snapped his fingers. “Issues. Anyway. It was nice of him to help me out after all that.”

“Dingus...” Robin said with a heavy sigh. “What were you going to do if he accepted?”

Steve grimaced and ducked his head. “Have you help me?” He looked up at her through his eyelashes and batted them, pouting.

Robin pushed his shoulder. “Disgusting!” Then she gave him a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. “Of course I’d help you.”

“I think it would be perfect,” Joyce blurted out. They both turned and looked at her. “This place could use the publicity if I’m honest. There are other pools in Indy that have been bringing in the bigger names. So if Eddie accepts and starts training under five time gold medal champion Steve Harrington...”

“Then this place could start bringing in the big names again,” Robin said. “Not to say that Steve isn’t a big name of his own,” she added when Steve’s face twisted into something like offense.

Steve shook his head. “Which isn’t going to happen because he said no.”

Joyce and Robin sighed. There was that. But they knew they shouldn’t go trying to pressure Eddie into it. Plus, despite how good he was there was no telling he’d be on par or better than his younger peers.

Steve and Robin left Joyce standing there, pondering her dilemma.

~

Eddie chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. He was grateful that the technique worked, but he was pretty sure that he had caused the attack in the first place. Which was... not good. He could have handled the offer to have him trained to compete a little better. Steve was paying him a compliment and he threw it back in his face as charity. He didn’t need charity not from no one.

There was no two ways about it. He was going to have to apologize. Which was never his strong suit. But he’d do it. He just wasn’t going to take Steve up on his offer. He would see about staying on here as paid help because then he could still have access to his beloved pool.

It took him a couple of days but finally their schedules matched up and Eddie was on his break and Steve had time between classes again.

“Um, hey,” he said timidly, sauntering up to Steve. “I just wanted to apologize for being a bitch on Monday. I was rude and that wasn’t fair.”

A slow smile spread out over Steve’s face. “Thanks. I did just spring it on you without an preamble, so...”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, there was that. But it still was mean and I should have been nicer.”

“Well, you made up for it by helping me with the panic attack afterwards,” Steve said. “I’d say that makes us even.”

“A panic attack I’m pretty sure I caused.”

Steve winced, confirming the worst of Eddie’s suspicion on that one. Steve rubbed his chin thoughtful. “I’ll tell you what, if you teach Robin and Joyce that technique you used to pull me out of my panic attack, then we’ll be even.”

Eddie smiled that sweet closed mouth smile that melted Steve’s insides when he saw it. “Sure thing I can do that. On Saturday before the crew swim. I’ll teach them both.”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed. That was going to be so useful, having multiple people know how to get him out of an attack would make it easier for him to go out in public. Something that was very limited after the incident in Beijing.

“That’ll be great, thanks.”

“You should come too,” Eddie suggested. “I know you don’t like being in the pool, but you could come hang out and have a little fun for a change.”

Steve gasped dramatically. “What do you mean? Isn’t teaching beginning classes meant to be fun?”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. It took him two seconds long than it should have to realize that Steve was joking him. He pushed Steve’s shoulder playfully.

“At least with us,” he teased, “we won’t try and drown you, deliberately or otherwise.”

Steve tilted his head to side and looked at him in confusion. Where the urge to bite those cheeks came from, Eddie will deny knowing until his last breath. “I saw that snotty teenaged little shit try to pull you into the pool. That’s fucked up at hell.”

Steve’s smile was blinding. “Fair enough. I like getting to sleep in on Saturdays, but we’ll see.”

Eddie grinned back. “I never used to get up this early for school. But ya know, keeping out of jail is pretty inspiring.”

“I could see that, yeah,” Steve agreed. “It was the one downside being on the swim team in high school.”

“You went to a regular high school?” Eddie asked tilting his head. “I would have thought after getting fifth in your first Olympics you would have gone to a special school for kids that are huge in sports or whatever?”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “Do they have schools like that?”

“They do for like actors and shit,” Eddie said with a shrug. “So I assumed they would have something similar for the jocks.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, no. That would have been preferable.” He shook his head. “But no, it’s much more cut throat that than that. Pretty much, schools try and poach students from other schools to make the best sports teams.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, really?”

“Yep!” Steve said beaming at him. He looked up at the clock on the wall. “Look, my next class is about to start. So I really should get going. Especially with Joyce’s son in the class, I don’t want to be late.”

“Why is he starting so late?” Eddie asked. “I would have thought with Joyce being in charge of the rec center and his older brother literally being a trainer too, he would have been in the tots class.”

Steve nodded. “She didn’t get the manager position until five years ago and Will was afraid of the water by then. So they just waited until he was ready.”

“So he’s ready now?” Eddie asked curiously.

“Mhmm,” Steve hummed. “All his friends are going to be in the class with him, so he ready to hop in the pool with them.”

Eddie smiled. “That’s cute.”

That surprised a huff of laughter out him. “Sure is. But don’t tell him that. He’s at the age where cute is akin to baby and well...”

“He’s too old for that?” Eddie finished.

“Yeah.”

“I feel that,” Eddie agreed. “Have fun in your class, and remember you can always make it look like an accident.”

Steve laughed out right at that and waved goodbye. Eddie watched him go feeling better about the whole panic attack thing. Now all he had to do was make sure it never happened again. Or at least not by his own big fucking mouth.

~

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @eriquin @tartarusknight @gloomysoup @morallyundefined

[afyrian]

line three - lovely little detail m.list

    "i just can't get a handle on him," you lean against the employee lounge's counter, fingers clenching a small stir stick as it swirls around the contents of your mug.

  the creamer and sugar disappear into the dark cup of coffee, your mug feeling warm against your knuckles. biting your lip, you watch as sakusa talks to atsumu. there's an air to him, the way he stands with his arms crossed over his chest, a warm smile on his lips. while atsumu looks likes he's coming from the pits of hell, bags heavy underneath his eyes. 

  his late night talk show typically ended when yours started, giving the two of you to chat before he left for the day. and yet you had never seen sakusa with him, never smiling, joking about something you'd love to hear. "no, you just love a mystery," yachi exclaims, holding her tea close to her, the small paper tag resting off to the side. 

  "no-" you start, looking over at her, shaking your head, "no. he's a new coworker who won't talk much. you know how much bo- my old sound engineer talked. i miss it sometimes and it makes me more jittery in between calls," you shrug, pursing your lips in an attempt to come off as nonchalant. 

  "and him being attractive is what? just a lovely little detail," she rolls her eyes, smiling over at you as her eyebrows arch upwards.

  shaking your head, you look up at the station's old clock above the door. it has seen the test of time, but some of the managers like to say it's been there since the station opened. that it's there as a good luck symbol. the chipped glass and cobweb weaving between it and the ceiling would seem to differ though. 

  "don't you have some sewing to do?" you question, knowing you have just under ten minutes before you have to reconvene in your booth. 

  “don’t you have some sewing to do?” yachi mocks, grabbing a small packet of honey for her tea, “fine, you don’t want to admit it. but just know i do know the office’s code of conduct about employee relations and my lips are sealed.”

  bringing her index finger and thumb up to her lips, she runs it along her lips, flicking her index finger as they reach her cheek. her eyes move rapidly between you and sakusa, tilting her head slightly in his direction. before yachi can make it out the door to get back to work, she calls out to sakusa and atsumu. “you guys are coming to that celebration thing tonight, right? i’m trying to talk y/n into coming,” she smiles, knowing full well you never wanted to go. 

  “oh yeah, the twenty-fifth anniversary? i’m going to be late, but i think sakusa’s gonna be there early to help get some seats,” atsumu nods, knocking his knuckles against the table, letting out a short echo in the lounge.

  “really? y/n should join him, she always has good luck with those sorts of things,” yachi waves her hand, like it’s no big deal, and she’s not feeding you to the metaphorical wolves. 

  feeling your whole body go jittery, you want to blame it on the coffee in your hand, but you know better. the thought of something as daunting as sitting silently with sakusa, without your gear around you, is terrifying. “oh y/n, you should meet him down there, he’ll be getting there around five,” atsumu brings his hand up, hitting sakusa in the stomach. 

  “okay.. i’ll think about it, but we should get heading to the booth, get ready for the show,” you nod, running your finger around the rim of your mug, trying to change the subject and hopefully get back to work.

  getting to know sakusa and truly working with him sounds like a dream… but the way yachi is going about it sends your heart rate spiking. “i’m right behind you,” he mutters, following you out of the lounge, sliding past yachi as she looks over to atsumu with an odd expression.

  sakusa says something behind you, talking quieter than he expected he would, his long legs carrying him over to you. he scratches his eyebrow as he catches up to you, grimacing as you look back at him, “what’d you say?”

  “you don’t have to come tonight… sorry if atsumu made it seem like you have to,” sakusa shrugs, hands pushing into his jean pockets. 

  “oh no, it’s okay. yachi’s right, for some reason every time we go to a restaurant i have the impeccable luck of always having seats available. and with most of the crew coming, you’re probably gonna want you,” you smile, nodding as you talk.

  the slightly hidden humor in your voice brings a small smile to sakusa’s own face. “okay, that would be cool,” he mutters, following you into the booth, shutting the door behind him, “it’ll be at the restaurant and bar down by onigiri miya, atsumu’s brother’s restaurant.”

  “okay, i will see you there, sakusa. make sure to bring a good attitude and an affinity for bar food,” you point at him, suddenly feeling an air of confidence as you sit in your chair, the cushions feeling comfortable against your back. 

  nodding, he walks into the sound booth, hiding his face from you. pulling the microphone down to you, you pull your headphones on, smiling to yourself. watching as the timer counts down to when you’re starting. glancing towards the sound booth, his hand is up by his mouth, eyes adamant about staring down at his equipment.

  tapping the table with your finger, you wonder if possibly you’ve gotten through to him. if possibly you’ve broken the shell that he keeps himself hiding behind. as the clock ticks down to one, you take in a deep breath, “hello everyone and welcome to talk it out. today, before we begin our usual conversations, i have a bit of an announcement. it’s the stations twenty-fifth anniversary!” 

  a short cheering noise carries through your headphones as sakusa sets it off. “today between our talks, i’ll be giving some facts about the station and my time here. but that’s for when the time comes, line one, what would you like to talk it out about with me today?” 

taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon

@jadeoru @yessimo @lale-txt @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @sugacor3

@quikhs @todorokiskitten @mollyrolls @honeyfewr @pookiebearcave

@phoenix-eclipses @madiexuberant @kameyyy @cr4yolaas @asrichin