#so Thursday and Friday pass. nothing

[grimandghoulish]

.

[deus-ex-mona]

here’s to hoping for a ✨better✨ next week… _(:3 」∠)_

[lettuce-gremlin]

:)

[auroralwriting]

hii!! this is so random but i just read ur spencer reid x genius! reader fic and i was wondering if u could like expand on it?? or like maybe the team finding out that they went on a date and everyone is like oh gosh finally?? thank u and i love ur writing :P

wedding bells

spencer reid x genius!bau!reader

part two to the gun, can be read as a standalone

spencer and you were enemies, now, you’re just into each other. what happens when you show up to jj's wedding as each other's dates?

word count: 1.6k

warnings: the most insane amount of tooth rotting fluff (you're welcome)

thank you for this request! i decided to expand even more and connect it back to the actual episode i wrote about, 7x24 :)

It had been about two weeks since you’d gotten out of the hospital from your last case; the bank robbery. You managed to get out with a couple of stitches and bruises. You were lucky to be alive.

The one good thing that came from the whole ordeal was the fact that you and Spencer, who was your previous academic-agent enemy, had turned into somewhat of your lover.

It started with trivia night at O’Keefe’s. The two of you decided to just pair rather than join a large team, and you kicked ass. You allowed Spencer to handle more of the academic side of trivia while you took pop culture. Quite literally, you were the only team with points.

That date went so well, that you ended up going out to dinner at the new Chinese place by Spencer’s apartment. That one went great too, and a third came along, a simple date that included Spencer taking you to an art museum.

You actually got to know Spencer, and he got to know you. Sure, you’d been team mates for years, but with suck a strong rivalry, you never got to know the man. You were both eerily alike, and things were going great. There had been no cases, Strauss gave your team a break after JJ’s boyfriend had almost died, along with you.

Spencer and you were at his place watching Doctor Who when you got a phone call. You picked it up, “Hey, Rossi.” The tv was paused and Spencer was looking at you expectantly. “Mhm.. mh- Oh my god! Oh, Rossi. That’s such a good idea. Yes, I’ll be there. I’m, uh, actually with Spencer, so I’ll pass on the message.” Spencer raised an eyebrow at you as you hung up. "Okay, don't freak out, but JJ and Will are engaged."

"What!" Spencer exclaimed with a bright smile. "Oh my god!"

"And Rossi and Will are planning for the wedding to be this Friday," You continued. "JJ doesn't know yet, so we have to keep it a secret."

"Speaking of secrets," Spencer coyly began, "Does Rossi know about, well, us?"

You chuckled, "I didn't tell him, but he knows we've been together more. Significantly more,"

"I've been thinking," Spencer said. "What if we don't keep this a secret anymore."

The only reason it was a secret in the first place was because the team would freak out if they knew you were going out. "I don't think now's the best time to tell them. We don't want to steal JJ's thunder." you frowned.

"No, no!" Spencer quickly shook his head. He grabbed both your hands, rubbing them with his thumbs. "Do you want to be my date to their wedding?"

Your heart raced at his words, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. "Yeah, Spence. I'd love to be your date." You smiled brightly.

The wedding was only three days away, and you were quick to go out with Penelope to buy a dress. You wanted something elegant that wouldn't take away from JJ, so you decided on a flowey, burgundy-maroon dress. It was formal, but nothing too glamorous. The whole time, Penelope kept rambling about how since she and Kevin were no more, the two of you could be girl-dates. You casually agreed, not wanting to give up Spencer and your cover yet.

You'd asked Spencer if he wanted to see your outfit on Thursday, but he wanted it to be a surprise. So, with Pen, you both did each other's hair, makeup, and got ready. You arrived together at the Rossi mansion to make everything less conspicuous.

"Oh my god!" Penelope whisper yelled. "Kevin has a date--a date!" She grabbed you and dragged you to Emily and Morgan in a panic. "He brought a date, and I didn't bring a boy date, oh my god I look like an idiot!"

"Pen, you don't look like an idiot." You rubbed her arm softly. "He's the real idiot for moving on so damn fast."

Emily nodded, "And you look so gorgeous, I bet he can't help but think about you. Play it cool."

Penelope took a large sip of her drink. "I'm- I'm gonna go, go somewhere, uh, somewhere he's not."

"Hi, Penelope!" Beth, Hotch's new girlfriend, said cheerfully as she walked up.

"Hey, hi," Penelope quickly walked off.

Beth gave a soft laugh, "Hello everybody."

You smiled and pulled her into a hug, "Ex problems, don't mind her. Hi Beth, and hi Hotch. You both look great."

"Says you! You look absolutely stunning! That is so your color." Beth smiled as she took your hand to spin you around lightly.

The three of you said hello to Jack as well. As the group began to disperse, you quickly spotted Rossi. You made your way over to him, a smile on his face. Rossi was like a father to you. Growing up under his help and guidance, he was more than just a mentor. "Oh, honey. Look at you, you look so grown up."

"Dave, I've been grown up for a lot of years now." You laughed as he kissed your cheek. "Have you seen Spencer by chance?"

"Not yet," Rossi replied. He raised an eyebrow at you, studying your face. "You two are together, aren't you?"

A look of panic crossed your features. "Shh!" You quickly hushed, looking around to see if anyone noticed. When they didn't you turned back to him. "We've been going out on dates, hanging out. That sort of thing. We aren't.. boyfriend-girlfriend."

"I'm happy for you two," Rossi smiled. "You two make a good pair, especially now that you aren't planning each other's murders."

"Who was murdered?"

You turned around to see Spencer standing behind you. His eyes went wide when he saw you. The way you turned, bright eyed and graceful, it made his heart leap in his chest, especially when you looked so ethereal.

Spencer breathed your name softly, looking to Rossi. You gave a small nod, letting him know that Rossi knew. He walked over, giving you a small hug to secretly press a kiss into your hair. The two of you hadn't really kissed yet, but you knew it would happen soon.

"You're an angel," Spencer softly spoke, caressing your cheek as you smiled.

"You look amazing, too." You replied.

Rossi and Spencer gave each other a quick hello before he excused himself to go reveal to JJ that this was her wedding night. It only took a few minutes and JJ ran up to you. You hugged her before she could say anything.

"You knew?" Her voice cracked, but you knew it was from joy.

"We all did," You smiled. "Hey, while you and Will get ready, let Spence watch over Henry."

JJ's eyebrows furrowed as she watched Spencer nod quickly, giving your shoulder a squeeze with the sweetest smile she'd ever seen him give someone. "Uh-"

"Don't worry about it," You shook your head. "This is your night." When you saw JJ was about to ask again, you filled her in. "Going out on dates, not dating."

She just smiled, holding up her dress. "This is it. I wanted to ask you, actually, if you wanted to be my maid of honor? Help me get ready?"

Your eyes filled with tears, "Oh, Jayge. It would be my absolute honor." You hugged her again tightly, leading her upstairs with her mom.

It didn't take long until the ceremony began. You were already at the end of the isle, watching Spencer do a magic trick with the ring with Henry. You giggled, Spencer's eyes meeting yours as he smiled back to you.

JJ was the most beautiful bride you'd ever seen. She came up to the front and you hugged her, taking her flowers from her and standing next to Spencer and Penelope. As the ceremony went on, you found yourself tearing up. Weddings always made you cry. Spencer took notice, taking your hand and pulling you against his chest as he rubbed your arm. The team was too busy watching JJ and Will to notice.

The dancing was the best part. Penelope pulled you to the dance floor before Spencer even had a chance. You happily slow danced with her, then Derek, who stole you away. From there, Hotch had a dance with you, and then Rossi. Finally, at your favorite slow song, Spencer approached.

"Dave, would you mind?" He softly asked.

"It would be my pleasure." Dave passed you off to Spencer with one hand as Spencer slowly pulled you into his arms. If you took closer notice, you'd see him go to Strauss and begin to dance.

"Hi," You whispered, one hand in his as his other rested on your waist. Your free hand was on his shoulder. The two of you began to sway to the music.

"Hi," He echoed, giving you the softest look you'd ever gotten. "I missed you. I didn't even get a chance to dance with you."

You softly giggled, "Well, now it's yours. All yours, Spence." You leaned in closer, "You're the only one I wanted to dance with."

The position changed, both of Spencer's hands were on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. This was much more intimate. "You're the only one I want, too." The double meaning made your stomach twist in the best way.

As the two of you danced, your teammates began to finally notice. "Oh my god," Derek mumbled. "Those two dumb geniuses finally got together."

"Actually, they're just going on dates," JJ corrected as she swayed with Will.

Emily smirked, "Not for long by the looks of it."

"They make such a sweet couple," Beth cooed.

Penelope gasped, "Oh my sweet baby Jesus, I took her away from him all night!"

"I'm sure he doesn't mind." Hotch smiled, actually smiled, as they all watched you lean your head on his shoulder, one of his hands coming up to the middle your back to splay out, almost protectively, holding you closer.

"I think I hear some more wedding bells in our future." Derek smiled.

[merakiui]

angel/angler.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, stalking, non-con, non-consensual photography, chikan/groping (train molestation), obsession, kidnapping/captivity, drugging, violence, blood, death (or is it??), azul's insecurities and low self-esteem, azul’s not-so-subtle breeding kink, implied disordered eating, reader's height isn't described, but it's written that azul is taller note - to obsess is to hunger like an angler from the deep sea. living his entire life in pitch-black solitude, entranced by an angel's halo; his only purpose is to find the body that will become his lifeline and, one day, his cemetery.

entry 1: 18 April, 20XX.

For anonymity’s sake, I’ve chosen to write using a vague pronoun. Additionally, this diary will be a record of my thoughts so that I can keep my mind and senses intact. In my youth, I was prone to terrible fits of self-destructive rage, and as a result they suggested I write my feelings down to prevent any outbursts. I’m not very physical towards others. Rather, it was the harm I posed to myself that fostered concern.

But this space isn’t for my own views on myself. It’s about someone else. 

I have a confession: I’ve fallen in love with you from the train, and I’ve been in love with you for the four months I’ve come to know you.

You wear perfectly pressed suits, heels of a modest height, tights, and pencil skirts that cut just at your knees. I want to touch you, but if I do you might stop wearing skirts altogether and then I’ll never see your legs again. I suppose trousers aren’t so unattractive. They’re appealing in their own right. Everything looks good on you, though. (Nothing would look even better.)

You work in an office building. I’m not sure which floor, but I’ll know soon enough. I wanted to follow you inside, but there’s a security guard in the lobby. He always greets you, and you always smile and chat with him. You’re a kind person, so I let this pass without incident. But I can’t lie to these pages and say it’s not troublesome when I watch his gaze linger longer than it needs to. 

I’d kill him, but then they’d employ a new guard and you’d make friends with him because you’re so kind. I don’t admire kind people. Rather, I find kindness to be a double-edged blade (Is that the correct phrasing? It’s different in my hometown. We say kindness is like pufferfish—harmless until it’s provoked and then it becomes poisonous). It’s not that I look down on kind people. I just think you shouldn’t be so quick to befriend the world in its entirety.

After plenty of observation, I’ve learned that you often leave your building to get lunch by yourself. This is what you’ve eaten in the week:

Monday - A salad at a popular café. Iced tea because it was a sunny day. A tiny cheesecake for dessert. It was blueberry.

Tuesday - A wrap of some kind. Chicken? Or was it vegetarian? Sweet potato fries. Water.

Wednesday - You didn’t leave your building. Were you at work today? 

Thursday - Another salad. Water. Same café. No tiny cheesecake.

Friday - You went to lunch with that guard. I only remember my irritation and so I’m afraid I can’t make note of your meal for today. He looks at you like an obsessed puppy waiting for its owner to give it attention. I want to pluck his eyes from his sockets so he’ll never look at you in that way again.

You lead a healthy lifestyle, but I can’t help wondering if you’re eating well. Did someone say something about your figure? I’ll eviscerate them for you and then they can see how much it hurts when unnecessary scrutiny is thrown around.

It’s quite late. I want to sleep, but thinking about you has my body wide-awake. I wonder if your mouth tastes like the moonlight shining in through my window. I wonder if your body is soft like mine… Of course it is. A silly, irrational thought. You’re much warmer than me. This is just a theory. I’ve yet to feel and confirm for myself. I will in the foreseeable future.

Before we part ways, I want you to know that I’m not very good at cooking. I’ve picked up a few books and hope to learn. I’m going to practice so that I can feed you better meals one day. Salads are the worst. Fried chicken is the true meal of heaven. I’m certain you would share this sentiment.

If I were to be condemned to a last meal like those serial killers on death row, I’d ask for fried chicken. Knowing you, you’re too good to kill anyone. In this hypothetical, supposing you’re a heinous criminal, your last meal would be something healthy. Do you even like those salads, or are you forcing yourself because you must? I understand calorie-counting well enough, but if there’s one thing to enjoy in life it should be food.

I suppose that makes me a hypocrite. I ought to take my own advice.

Oh. I’m starting to grip my pen with more force and the lines have become shaky. I usually break my writing utensils if my focus strays. I’ll stop here for today. Ink is a pain to clean.

AA.

The morning rush is your greatest enemy.

Jack Howl, the lobby’s security, has suggested giving you a ride on numerous occasions. “It’s part of the reason I got my license,” he explained once, “so that I can protect those who work in this building from the rush. Not like you have to accept my offer. It’s just…convenient for both of us. Again, I don’t care what you do.”

(He does. You see through his gruff surface.)

According to him, the morning and night rushes bring out the worst kinds of characters.

But isn’t that everywhere? you think as you peer out the window, watching the city come into clarity.

Like every morning, the train car is more crowded than a sardine tin. You’re used to being pressed up against other commuters, pinned to the window or between people. You’re flattered to know someone’s concerned, but nothing has happened yet. And why would it? It’s bright outside. No one would dare do something during the day. At least, not in a crowded area where anyone could see and hear.

I wonder what I should have for dinner. I still need to go shopping. My fridge is way too empty, you think, sighing. And I need to follow up with that one author. They’ve yet to get back to me about my edits. Perhaps we should meet in the office instead of through video call… And I also need to finalize that other style sheet after the last round of editing. And then another conference… There was something else. Was I scheduled to have lunch with an author? Or was that next week? I should check before—

The train shudders as it slides into the station. Someone brushes against you from behind. Their hand is pressed against the window just near your head. They steady themselves, their body so close to yours you can hear their staggered breathing.

“Ah. S-Sorry…”

It’s next week, right? I really should check once I get to my stop. This is going to eat me alive all day.

“Mhm,” you hum, waving dismissively.

The stranger standing behind you peels his hand away from the window. A sweaty palm print is left in its wake.

“We will be approaching the next stop shortly.”

Just one more and you’ll be getting off.

A pair of bright eyes blinks back at you in the reflection, watching the city just as you are.

entry 5: 22 April, 20XX.

I’m not a social person by any means. If I can avoid crowds, I usually do. An introvert’s paradise is best spent in the comfort of their own room, after all. But if you prefer outdoor dates I can become extroverted for your sake. There are lots of things I’m willing to do for your sake.

Which is why I’ve forced myself to tolerate the train. I loathe it. It’s cramped and uncomfortable. Most days I’m not even near you, and so all I can do is stare longingly from afar. I content myself with imaginary scenarios like in the books you edit. I’ve mentioned it sparsely in this diary, but you’re a brilliant editor. Most of the novels you work on aren’t exactly my taste, but there’s something to appreciate about them. Reading through them knowing your very eyes pored over these pages dozens of times before publication… I admire your work. Immense time and effort goes into all professions, especially ones that involve meticulous touches. 

With this discussion of careers, you might wonder what I do for a living. I manage my own restaurant chain off-site. It must be shocking news for you to realize: your secret admirer is actually quite successful.

If I’m not able to provide an adequate life—no, more than that. If I cannot drown you in all of life’s luxuries, I should sooner throw myself on the beach and let this soft, wriggling body of mine dry out than settle for the barest of minimums. You deserve only the finest.

In fact, I have a room in my home dedicated to you. A private office in which you can write and edit in peace. It’s furnished with everything you’d ever need. I hope to gift it to you one day.

Remote work is very relaxing. (You’ll know this once you try it here.) When you’re boss, you work your own schedule. That’s why I’m able to fit our secret meetings into my weekly itinerary.

Today’s meeting was quite fortuitous. I felt like I’d won the lottery. Mostly because I was finally given the opportunity to be close to you. So close, in fact, that you didn’t even notice when I slid my phone under your skirt to take a few photos. Your undergarments are unexpectedly plain. Truthfully, I’m somewhat disappointed. I was hoping to learn your lingerie preferences. At the very least, I know your tights are sheer enough to show me the color of your panties.

I consider myself a connoisseur of many things, and I’ve done enough interior decorating in my time to become well-accustomed to color palettes. A fool would say your panties are red, but they’re actually maroon.

That same fool wouldn’t take another breath after glimpsing such a private side of you.

If you must know, my dear, I am excessively avaricious when it comes to the things I like. I have always been this way. I am a collector. A hoarder of secrets. I refuse to let others touch or take the things that belong to me, especially when they are wholly undeserving…

I’ve broken another pen. Thankfully, the mess wasn’t so extreme. Not-so-thankfully, I’ve lost my train of thought.

Ah. Right. Trains.

Today I rode the train, and I was standing right behind you. You were looking out the window, lost in your thoughts, and so you didn’t notice me. You must have seen my reflection, but I wear a mask and a hooded sweatshirt when I go outside. Perhaps it’s a touch embarrassing to admit, but I am very self-conscious of the way I look. Firstly, my eyes are too tired. I’ve read that many people are not fond of eyes with dark circles under them. Secondly, my face is average—unworthy of your love by my lofty standards. My hair never cooperates. My smiles never fit properly. My skin is too pale. My eyes are too blue and my pupils are abnormal. My weight is just a few kilograms above the average. I will work hard to bring it back down for your sake and for my own so that it won’t show. I prefer a slim waist, so I must stomach all manner of healthy foods for the weekend. What a pity… Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could eat whatever you wanted without having to worry about caloric intake and numbers on a scale?

That aside, there are times in which my glasses sit crooked on my face and it’s a horrifying thought to imagine I walk around looking like that! As if I’ve rolled right out of bed with no regard for my appearance whatsoever!

Perhaps the both of us share one similarity. We are vain creatures who care too much about how we present ourselves to others.

Thus, I conceal myself so that you won’t judge me harshly should you look upon me. Not like you’d do that. You were so immersed in your head that you hardly paid any attention to your surroundings. You should be more careful. What if something were to happen and I wasn’t there to protect you?

The train stuttered to a halt at the first stop, and some fool bumped into me. I should thank them because I got to brush against you. You gasped softly. I watched your breath fog the window. I placed my hand just above your head and apologized softly, and you weren’t bothered in the slightest. Oh, how I envy your carefree nature.

As a result of that stranger’s mishap, I’ve learned something new. You wear perfume. Even with my mask, I could smell it. Strong and flowery, overwhelmingly sweet. Maybe you prefer these scents? I’m more partial to mature scents, but I admit there’s a certain charm to the scents you wear. I wish I knew the exact brand. There are dozens of perfumes with the same notes as the ones I picked up, but none can compare to the one you use. I want to be able to hold the bottle knowing it’s your favorite.

I’ve prattled enough. With the length of my entries, you’d assume I was this chatty beyond the page. I’m not. I only say as much as I think is necessary.

Once again, I’m having trouble falling asleep. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m looking through the photos I snapped and the outline of your lips against your panties is lovely. I’m sure you’re just as soft and sweet inside as you are on the outside. If only I could experience it right now. My hand can’t replicate the softness or the wetness or the way you’ll probably clamp down when we finally make love.

I can only fantasize for now. What a pain. 

AA.

“It’s going to rain today,” Jack tells you the minute you step through the lift doors into the lobby. He stands straight like a soldier, his shoulders squared and features set into something serious.

“Looks like it, huh?” You glance at the darkening sky outside, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Hopefully it rains after I get home. I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

“I’ll drive you.” He falls into step beside you. “It’s dark out and the station is—”

“It’s only five minutes away. I’ll be fine. I take this way all the time.”

Jack’s lip twitches into a grim frown. The beginnings of a sharp, pearly-white canine flashes at you as his mouth curls. “Fine,” he concedes with a huff. Awkwardly, he scratches the back of his neck and looks elsewhere. “Do what you want. I’m not forcing you or anything.”

You smile at him. “You’re very considerate, Jack. I appreciate the concern.”

He’s like a puppy. It’s really sweet.

“W-Wha—who said anything about concern?” His face is growing warmer by the second, thawing his external ice.

“I’ll be okay. It’s not even that dark out either.”

“Still…” He sighs and cards his hand through his hair. “You haven’t noticed anything weird lately, have you?”

“Anything weird?” You furrow your brows, suddenly confused.

“On your way home. Nothing out of the ordinary? It’s the same every day?”

“Mostly, yeah. Why? Did something happen?”

“No. Just wondering…” Jack looks past you then, searching for something you can’t seem to see. “You sure you don’t want a ride? I can walk you to the station. Protect you if anything or anyone—”

You force yourself to laugh. “Come on. You’re trying to scare me on purpose. This is because I told you I’m editing a horror novel, isn’t it?”

Jack doesn’t share in your humor. Instead, his frown tightens on his face.

“While I’m grateful you want to help, I really don’t want to put that on you. It’s not your job to chauffeur me around. I’d feel bad if I made you do that. So thank you, but I’ll have to decline.”

You turn swiftly on your heel before he can protest, striding out the door into the gloomy night.

When is it going to be summer? It’s way too chilly.

You burrow into your jacket as you beeline for the station. A brisk breeze blows through busy city streets. Even though there are still people out and about, it feels strangely desolate.

Jack’s heart was in the right place, but did he really have to phrase it like that? 

You wrap your arms around yourself and hurry along. Your steps are in time with your pounding heart. A cold sweat beads along your forehead. 

Relax. It’s nothing to get worked up over. I’m fine.

Crunch.

You whirl around, clutching your bag between your arms. There’s no one in sight. The city seems eerily quiet tonight.

Stop scaring yourself. Nothing’s there.

No, it’s not something that could make that sound—a noise akin to a footstep. That belongs to someone.

Is someone following you?

You aren’t going to wait around and find out. Now you’re jogging the rest of the way, your heels clicking against the pavement. Your breath comes in shaky heaves, and by the time you finally step into the station’s blinding fluorescents, adrenaline still vibrating through your veins, you notice the time.

My train—it’s already here! Thank you. Oh, thank you so much!

You rush through the station in a flurry, and the relief is tangible once you’re safe and sound inside the train car. You squirm through the throng of late-night commuters towards the window.

“Sorry. Excuse me. Pardon me,” you murmur as you navigate the crowded space.

You make it to the window just as the doors slide shut. Moments later, the train squeaks into motion.

I worked up such a sweat. I can’t believe I got so frazzled over something as small as a snapped twig…or whatever that was. It wasn’t a footstep. And if it was, it was probably my own.

You shake your head at your reflection.

Look at me, losing my mind all because I let someone’s words get to my head. 

The stranger standing behind you sighs alongside you. You’re about to turn around, but it’s their hands on your waist that stop you. Your blood freezes. Your spine goes rigid.

“Excuse me? Um… C-Can I help you?”

You gasp, horrified, as the hands creep higher until they’re wrapped around your chest. The stranger squeezes almost curiously. Their breath catches on an eager hitch. You peer helplessly at the window. Two blue eyes blink back.

“Wait… Hold on—”

“It’s okay.” A man’s voice. Sweet and silky-smooth. A reassuring whisper. Only you can hear it with this invasively close proximity. It might as well be a drop in the ocean that is the rickety din of the train on the rails. You reach to grab his arms, hoping to pry him off. “I’m not going to hurt you. As long as you’re quiet…”

“No, you can’t. Please, sir. S-Stop… Don’t touch there.” Your fingers curl around his wrists. You squirm against him, your brain blanking.

This can’t be happening… There’s just no way…

Something stiff prods at your ass from behind. You yelp softly when he rubs himself against you. You try to catch sight of his features when you crane your neck, but all you get is a faceful of a dark hoodie. He’s tall enough to block you from the other passengers, his body caging yours against the window. One hand slides away from your chest to slip under your skirt. He gropes at your inner thigh; his fingers draw dangerously close to private territory.

“Sir—”

He inhales a dreamy breath. “Perfect,” he babbles, his words muffled by his mask. “So perfect. Warm… And soft. Just as I thought.”

There’s nowhere for you to run. Nowhere to hide. You’re trapped here with this fiend until you get off at your stop.

“We will be approaching the stop shortly,” the woman on the intercom says, but it doesn’t give you the relief you’re after.

Three more stops and then you’ll be at yours. Three more. Three. Your stop might as well be years away.

Two fingers trace the outline of your pussy through your panties. You’re grateful you’re wearing tights.

His breathing is heavy. He’s mumbling filth in your ear. You hardly register it over the static in your brain.

Gross. So gross. Stop it. Please stop. I don’t want this.

A whine bubbles low in your throat when he presses down against your clit. He caresses you through the fabric of your panties. You slump against the window with your palms on the glass. Your heart is in your throat. You feel sick and dizzy. It’s too hot in here. Everything is spinning. Your heart is picking up its pace. Your hands are starting to shake. 

And there’s nowhere to go. No amount of begging will stop him. He’s all over you, pressed impossibly close—so close you think he’s trying to fuse his body to yours, becoming one mutual unit.

You want to scream, but you can’t find your voice. You can’t do anything. You can’t even think.

“Don’t be scared,” he murmurs, twining his fingers around your trembling ones. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mmh, no… No—stop. P-Please, sir, please stop.” You shudder against him, and a choked, broken sob rattles through your ribs. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand. His other circles your tender, sensitive clit, and the contact elicits a whimper from you. “Even though you’re making the cutest sounds? Aah, I wanna be inside you so badly… I’m sure it’s even softer there.”

You bite down on your bottom lip so hard that your teeth pierce the skin. A thin ribbon of blood dribbles down your chin. You refuse to give him that satisfaction. Even though your attempt to snuff your voice is successful, your body doesn’t seem to agree. It shakes in fear and arousal. When he presses against your panties next, he feels the growing damp spot. 

That’s just a natural reaction, right? I’m not actually aroused by this. There’s no way!

Just when you think he might pursue further, he pulls back. His hips are still flush to your ass. You can feel his cock straining against the fabric. It’s gross and demoralizing. You’re nothing but a doll for him to get off to. Less than a person.

The train glides to a halt and the doors open. People exit and enter in a busy fashion. You stare out the window at your blurred surroundings.

When the train eases back into motion, you realize tears are welling in your eyes. They don’t fall. Not yet.

It isn’t until you get off at your stop, sprint the rest of the way home, hurry up into your apartment, and lock the door that the horror of it all finally catches up to you. You collapse to your knees and wail like you’ve just lost something precious—something you’ll never be able to get back.

You’ve never felt more dirty before.

entry 36: 4 May, 20XX.

I did it. I finally did it.

My hand is shaking; I’m so happy. No, I’m more than happy. I’m absolutely overjoyed!

You don’t know this about me yet, but I’m terribly envious. I suppose that’s why I could muster the confidence to touch you and hold you… Your body is so soft against mine. Every inch of you is beautiful. I wish I could have felt beneath your shirt, lifted your bra to see your bare breasts in the window’s reflection. This is quite the shameless admission. Even I, despite admiring you for so long, am loath to admit it.

You mesmerize me. I’m already flustered just thinking about the way your hand fit in mine when I held it… And you were aroused! I was so close to such a precious area, and you were wet for me and only me. I feel so overwhelmed. It’s a dream come true. You’re such an angel. My angel.

My dear, darling angel, I’m sorry for startling you. That was the only way, you see, and certain circumstances led me to that point. You must understand.

To be unfiltered about it, it was annoying seeing that security guard pester you. I had the strongest urge to kill him, but that’s not something you can do on a whim. Murder is like running a business, in a way. One misstep, a bad investment or a sliver of evidence left behind, and it might spell the end.

That’s besides the point. It’s hardly worth the time. 

Regrettably, while on the train into the city, I noticed you were wearing trousers today. I was right. Last night was a once-in-a-lifetime event. A pity. Your legs in those sheer tights is a vision to behold. Luckily, I have enough pictures to satisfy the craving to see you in them. When you live with me, I’ll buy plenty of tights for you to wear around the house. That way you won’t have to worry if I rip them.

That aside, you’ve started looking over your shoulder more. You talked to that security guard longer than you normally do. It’s irritating. Quite frankly, it pisses me off.

I don’t want to be childish. I understand you’re stressed and nervous. Anyone would be. That’s normal. But I’m not going to hurt you. I even told you those exact words! I’m certain you would have calmed down if you could see my face. Unfortunately, I’m not very blessed in that department. I assure you my personality is far prettier…despite the ugly truths I’ve penned here.

But then those don’t matter when it comes to love. Even in love, couples are supposed to recognize and accept each other’s flaws. So it’s fine if I’m an ugly person. It’s fine if I’m a devil or something grotesque from the deepest trench in the sea. At least, in spite of such darkness, your halo will continue to light the way and I will always be lured in by your luminosity.

I can’t do much of anything right now and that has led me to feel increasingly itchy. I want to feel you again. Smell you. Touch you. I’d like to taste you next time. Part your legs or tear your skirt off and indulge in the space you keep hidden from me. I want to sink into your depths and know the shape of you just as you twist yourself to take the shape of me. 

It’s just not enough. I desire more of you. 

AA.

entry 40: 8 May, 20XX.

It’s been a few days. You haven’t taken the train since. Now you’re driven to and from work by that pest. I was overcome with such frustration yesterday that I slammed my hands down upon my desk and fractured my wrist. For the time being, until my wrist heals, I must wear this unsightly stabilizer-brace-thing and write carefully with my non-dominant hand. I like to consider myself ambidextrous, if only because it’s a talent I’m sure will impress you, as you seem to surround yourself with successful, talented people, but I must admit my lettering is rather…subpar.

It’s not as neat as I hoped it would be. Something to practice while my wrist heals, I suppose.

There’s only so much strain I can take, my angel. Are you really so afraid of me that you’ve chosen to rely on someone else to protect you? If it was funny, I’d laugh. But it’s not. It’s annoying. Must I chain you up by the throat so that you won’t run away? Must I cuff our wrists together so that neither of us can part ways? What must I do to ensure you’ll never leave me?

Every day I spend in solitude, you grow closer to everyone but me. It’s infuriating.

However, there are always silvers of hope to be found and exploited in misfortune. As a businessman, I know this well enough.

I can plan around this. I’ve taken a few photos of your house at every angle. It’s important to think ahead when making a calculated risk.

When you go to kidnap the love of your life, you must dress appropriately, no? Now should I wear a formal suit or something casual?

I have some time and plenty to look forward to.

AA.

Like always, early as usual, Jack is waiting for you below your apartment. You see his car from the window and light up at once.

It’s been two months since the incident on the train. Jack insisted you go to the police when you confided in him a week after the fact. But what could they do? A story isn’t evidence. Evidence is evidence. So to combat that, you’ve avoided public transport altogether. Jack drives you to and from work and anywhere else you need to go. You never knew him very well before this mess, and you regret not starting a friendship sooner. He’s everything you need right now: a friend, a listener, and someone you can trust and rely on.

Like always, he unlocks the door so you can put your things in the back. “It’s my turn to treat for lunch today, so let’s go somewhere you like.”

You shut the door and open the passenger side, sliding in seamlessly.

“There’s no need for that.”

Your heart skips. Your breath stumbles in your lungs. Your body tenses.

You finally look at the driver.

He’s wearing what appears to be an expensive collared shirt with a tie, but the top half is covered by the soft hoodie he’s thrown on over it. He has a mask like before, but there’s no denying his eyes. Bright and blue, deep and deceptive like the ocean, they blink back at you.

The door locks with a click.

You throw yourself at it in a useless effort to escape. The masked stranger seizes your wrist. You scream.

“There’s no need to be afraid. I-It’s only me! I won’t hurt you.” He tugs his mask down to his chin so that you can see the wobbly smile on his face. “Please don’t be scared…”

“Let go of me, you pervert!” You rip your arm free and reach for the door once more. “What the hell are you doing here?! W-Where’s Jack? Why are you—”

You choke around the rest of your words when he wraps his arms around you and yanks you over the seat towards him. You kick out like a deranged animal, breathing heavy and frantic, your eyes darting to and fro. The stranger manages to manhandle you into a chokehold despite the struggle. With his arm wrapped around your neck, he grabs a plastic water bottle with his free hand. Clumsily, he unscrews the cap and presses the lip of the bottle to your mouth.

“I’m sorry for being so rough, but I need you to drink this. Can you do that for me? Drink all of it.” As he says this, he tips the bottle and the strange liquid fills your mouth. You fight against his hold, doing everything you can to resist. He tightens his grip on you, dragging your body closer to his. “Swallow it, or I’ll slit your throat.”

Against your will, very shakily, you gulp down the solution. It tastes bitter and vile like medicine. A little salty.

“I didn’t want to frighten you, my angel, but this is the only way you’ll listen.” He swipes the tear threatening to spill from your eye. “You don’t have to cry. I’ll take you home and keep you safe. Just drink the rest of this and take a nap until we get there. That’s it. You’re almost done. I know it’s disgusting, but you have to drink it all, my love.”

“Why…” you sputter, coughing. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” He blinks at you as if the answer is obvious. “Because I love you.”

You can’t understand the logic there. You don’t want to.

Slumping against the seat, boneless and disturbed, you tremble when he leans over to buckle you in. And you continue to do so until you’re pulled into sleep. 

Two blue eyes follow you in your dreams, sticking to your body like old gum under a school desk. In sleep, you feel his hands on you—clinging and cloying like tentacles and the stench of brine, all-enveloping.

entry 179: 24 September, 20XX.

Summer is winding to a close. The last few vestiges of warmth are slipping away. Today’s weather was crisp. Autumn is approaching. 

It’s been a difficult few months. I’ve catalogued my process in the time you’ve spent with me, locked away in our bedroom. I must keep you chained to the bed for the time being. It’s long enough to lead into the bathroom. Until I can trust you, this is the arrangement at present.

They’re still searching for you, albeit not as frantically and frequently. I hope they assume you’ve met some grisly end so that I can finally shelve that anxiety and move on with my life. While I’m relieved it wasn’t as messy as I thought it’d be, I’m just a touch disheartened. I would have loved to watch the light fade from that guard’s eyes.

But that just wasn’t feasible or smart. Besides, what else am I to use my current fortune for, if not the props needed for that day? You call it kidnapping, and while that term is technically true I prefer something sweeter. A reunion of sorts. 

There’s nothing of note to discuss. You haven’t accepted your new home or me yet, so I will continue to wait. I can be patient. I must be if this relationship is going to work (and it will). 

I don’t particularly believe in soulmates. Rather, I find the concept to be foolish. Fate does not dictate an entire life. It is the decisions you make along the way that shape your paths. Just like in my favorite board game. I’d like to play it with you. Although I must admit I already know how our life goes. I have a few routes in mind.

You look at me with such scalding contempt when I imply we ought to start a family, and even though I’ve been victim to that look so many times it doesn’t burn any less. You just can’t see how good this is for you yet.

What else are we to do with our time if not use it to fill quiet halls with the pitter-patter of tiny feet? I have a few names in mind, but for now we’ll take it one day at a time. I’m a patient man despite my temper.

AA.

entry 257: 11 December, 20XX.

Exciting news! Though it may seem small, we’ve reached an understanding. Or so I suspect. You’re not so averse to me anymore. In fact, we take baths together, eat meals together, watch TV together, play board games together… There are so many things we do together as a couple and so, despite the encroaching winter frost, my days have become warmer! Just last night you allowed me to sleep beside you on our bed, and I held you close and you kissed me and I felt like the luckiest man alive.

Finally! Genuine progress!

I won’t delude myself and say that you may finally love me in the way I love you, but a start is a start. I admit I couldn’t help myself. I returned your kiss tenfold, all over your face, down the column of your throat to your collarbone. I was gentle and careful. I didn’t rush.

I like to play experienced in all fields, but even I can’t act perfectly. How should I describe our first time without all of the shameless vulgarity? Perhaps it doesn’t matter. Sex is sex no matter how you try to embellish it. Filthy and imperfect, sweaty and sticky, more effort and exercise than I realized.

You pulled me in close, pursued my mouth with the same want in mine, and it was more cathartic than anything I’ve ever known. Oh, to be kissed by the love of your life! I wasn’t aware such joy existed.

You palmed me through my pajamas and told me you wanted a family—that the idea of raising a little one was perfectly charming. I admit it’s an alluring thought I’ve had long before you lived with me. I’ve always thought you would look very enchanting while pregnant. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself. Even though it isn’t official yet, it doesn’t hurt to call myself your husband. In my mind and heart, we’re married. It may not seem so to you yet, but it will be.

Back to the matter at hand. Hearing that you wanted a child with me made me happy. I can’t remember if I cried. I must have because you pulled me in close and you, lying beneath me, wiped at my face and told me you wanted me to give you a child. And who am I if not the most doting, most benevolent husband? I’d do anything for you.

This must be what a predator feels when they tear into prey: a rapture so absolute and all-consuming that it covers their brain like a cotton shroud and renders every other action a hazy instinct.

It was a blur even though I was sure I moved slowly. Clothes weren’t exactly shucked. They were in the way and we had a singular goal, far too focused to remove them completely. Thus, they were pulled up, down, to the side, in whichever way provided easiest access. I closed my hands around your breasts and they feel so much softer without the obstruction of clothes.

Perhaps, rather than humans, we’re just anglerfish. Hungry for each other, using the other, a voracious relationship full of mutual benefits. If I could, I’d love to live inside you. I want nothing more than to press myself close enough to feel your heart beat alongside mine. To feel rushing blood. To turn myself inside-out just to satisfy you. Give you every little thing I can offer—brain and body—and we’d cleave through sunless waters as one, together forever.

The word ‘love’ is not large enough to truly encapsulate all that I feel for you.

My forehead pressed to yours. You kissed me once. I felt sloppy. I was sloppy. Inexperienced. We both are. Your hand wrapped around me. I told you it was okay, to do it at your own pace, to tell me if it hurts. But you kissed my every anxiety away, and in just a few strokes we were connected. Perhaps I died then and I’m still dead now.

Maybe I’m writing this from the moon or the deep, dark sea. Maybe all of this is just a long dream and I’m not even human. Maybe I’m the anglerfish stuck to your side, latched on with my sharp teeth, our lives forever intertwined. You taste of fruit and blood and every beautifully painful thing in this world.

For the first time in the many months we’ve lived together, you called me by my name. You gasped it as you curled your legs around my waist and clung to my chest, your arms draped over my neck, nails in my back. You chanted it like a song. I must have done the same with yours.

However, no amount of carnal euphoria can change the fact that I still have my reservations about unchaining you.

A deliberation for another day. It’s time to cook dinner. I’ve improved lots in the time we’ve known each other. You help around the kitchen as well. Harmless things like stirring batter or mixing a salad. I can’t trust you with actual food prep for reasons I’m sure are obvious and understandable. I try to create balanced meal plans. Now that I’m no longer eating alone and surviving off of misery, I want to show you that I’m both a great chef and a conscientious eater.

AA.

You watch the seasons shift outside the bedroom window and there’s nothing you can do.

You live life chained like a prisoner and there’s nothing you can do.

You eat off paper plates with the same utensils made for toddlers and there’s nothing you can do.

You let the same man whose touch was once so covetous pet you all over with his hands and mouth and there’s nothing you can do.

You’re stuck here forever and there’s nothing you can do.

There are highs higher than the clouds and then there are lows lower than the sea. You oscillate between these temperaments, a body thrown around on rocky waves. How you’ve yet to sink and drown for good, you’re not sure.

Today’s low has brought Azul to his knees. You stand over him, gripping the knife in a shaky hold. Chopped vegetables scatter in a rainbow on the floor. He had been chopping them so methodically, so wrapped up in pleasant conversation with you, that he hadn’t been expecting the retaliation. The blade is freshly sharpened. The perfect weapon. The perfect opportunity. Freedom just after this final hurdle.

Freedom that comes with its burdens—with a child and the law and the media and… And then what? A life of loneliness. A life spent working through mountains of trauma. A life in which you can never look at the train again.

Two blue eyes blink up at you. For the first time, Azul looks scared and weak—a small, pitiful thing. For the first time, you have him trapped beneath your thumb.

You want to bring the knife down and put an end to these cyclical days. You want to crush his spirits in the same way he crushed yours. You want him to know pain so brutal it rots him from the inside.

But you can’t. You want to and in an ideal scenario devoid of fear you would. But you can’t.

You dig your heel palms into your eyes and sob. “I can’t! I’m sorry. I… I can’t do it!”

Azul deflates with a deep sigh. “Oh… Oh, my angel, it’s all right. I forgive you. You’re just a little confused. A little emotional—I get it. We all have emotional moments. I’m not upset.”

“But I—I almost… I was going to—”

“You didn’t. You didn’t, my love, and that’s what matters.” 

He beckons you to his height; you lower to your knees. The knife is still clutched in your hands. He looks between it and you, as if weighing which is more dangerous. Volatile emotions or a blade. Maybe both.

Azul wraps his arms around you and rubs your back consolingly. “It’s okay. I’m not angry.”

You sniffle, but the tears won’t stop flowing. “Still… I almost did such a horrible thing to you. I could’ve hurt you—k-killed you!”

“My dear, it’s okay.” He kisses the top of your head, tucking you beneath his chin. “I forgive you.”

Your fingers tighten around the handle. “You do?”

“I do. I always will.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Angel—”

You turn the sharpened point inwards and slam it into his side, just below his rib. It pierces through soft flesh. You pull away just in time to see hurt and betrayal flash across his face, hot like the tears you’re now drying.

Shakily, his movements unsteady, he reaches for the handle. His fingers dance across it, assessing the reality of the situation. You stabbed him. You did it.

He hisses through his teeth when he tears it out. Blood spatters the kitchen floor in a brilliant, vermillion arc. Azul, knife in hand, staggers to his feet and lunges.

You stumble away in a blind panic. 

“How dare you…” He clutches his side with one hand while the other slashes through the air. You narrowly dodge before the knife can slice your arm. Blood seeps through Azul’s shirt, staining his palm red. His expression is twisted in a dark concoction of agony and anger. “I’ve shown you nothing but love and care… I’ve been nothing but patient. I’ve done everything! You were beginning to warm up to me—to this life—our life! I was wrong to trust you. Get back here—”

“You’re crazy! You assaulted me, kidnapped me, threatened me! Do you really think I’d love you after all of that?!” You yelp when his slick, blood-stained fingers wrap around your wrist to drag you down. “Stop! Let go of me!”

You elbow him in the ribs, which causes a shockwave of pain to travel through him, and it gives you enough time to wriggle free. Ripping your arm from his hold, you try to get away when he, aiming to subdue you, grabs hold of your ankle next. You feel the blade sink into your calf before you see it. A terrible cry frays your throat, torn from the depths of your chest like a flower pried from the soil.

“If I’m going to die…” He flops to his knees, wheezing. “If I’m going to die, you’ll die with me.”

“Like hell I will!” you hiss through your teeth, thrashing wildly.

Stupidly, you pull the knife from where it’s wedged in. Blood spurts from the wound, trickling down your leg in a thick, steady stream. You wince and limp towards the door. Closer… You’re almost there.

Azul reaches out with a bloodied hand, his expression utterly shattered. “Wait… Don’t go any further. Please… I need you. We need each other. My angel, my love, please don’t go!”

You tear your eyes away. He’s a monster. You’ll never sympathize with him.

Just before you can get to the front door, Azul picks himself up and wraps his arms around your waist. He pulls you down and your head hits the floor with a harsh smack. You see stars. The ceiling spins above you. You try to get up, crawl away, escape—whatever it takes to lose him—but he clings to your side, holding tight. His blood is warm and wet against your shirt. The pain in your calf is sparking up your leg, joining the ache at the back of your head in duet.

Pressed so closely, the flow of blood slows. Your shirt soaks up what the rest of his already drenched shirt can’t hold.

You watch the ceiling. The light looks like a halo; it shines brightly. Azul blinks up at you, hopelessly, sickly enthralled. The tip of the knife prods at your stomach. If it pierces, you don’t feel it. You’re sore all over. Bruises are already beginning to bloom.

At the bottom of the sea, clothed in frigid darkness, there is no sense of direction.

That’s the sweetest relief while you wade into unconsciousness with a parasitic angler.

[onlyuyu]

𝙞𝙡𝙮𝙨𝙢 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙥𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙝 𝙪 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 - 𝘭𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: yandere!heeseung x fem!reader

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: yandere & suggestive

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

Notes..

every single day since the beginning of school year, notes appeared in your locker, from monday to friday at the end of classes, notes appeared.

at the first they were soft, cute, even poetic, sometimes a simple message like:

“you looked cute today” ~H

“I saw a puppy at the park, reminded me of you” ~H

“I hope you had a great day ♡” ~H

common stuff! even though it was weird a first, you kinda got used to them, even being the only thing to look forward to on a boring day

“did mister mystery started to appear yet?”

your friend belle asked you

“no appearance yet-“ “don’t you ever wonder who could it be?” and to be honest you really didn’t do, you kind of just accepted the sweet compliments.

“probably a weird psychopath with nothing to do” sunoo said, tired of the long going anonymous fan

“well.. I haven’t really thought about it..” “I mean, sunoo could be right! Man are kind of obssesive over cute woman like us! right sunoo? heeseung?” the blonde girl said.

“Oh… yeah sure” heeseung said distracted while he seemed distracted and you just left a little laugh “I’m sure it’s nothing guys”

but then you started to get curious, who could it be? who on earth had time to write those sweet notes day by day? what if you waited one day to catch a glance of who that person could be?

so that’s what you did

one day you waited till classes were over, almost every student gone, spent some time in the classroom next to the window with your locker right in front of it

minutes passed

10..

20..

30 minutes..

and no show up, it became clear that the person didn’t want to make a appearance yet, but checking if a note was there just in case but no note, so you just went home, feeling a bit disappointed but still kinda expecting it

…

the next day came

the same routine over again, classes - lunch - classes - going home and going to the locker to get your bag and maybe a note, and to your surprise a note did appear, but not the same notes as always

not a soft note, neither a cute one or a “poetic” one

“you're a naughty girl, princess.” ~H

you kept staring at the note, even feeling a presence looking at you while at it, the tone to it was different than all those other notes, did they stayed watching all those minutes till you left?

you placed the note in your pocket-

“sooo… did mister mystery show up?, was he cute? was he handsomeee~” belle asked surprising you with a back hug “was he incredibly weird?” sunoo asked annoyed

“he was a no show up” you said with a mix of nervous and disappointed smile

“at least you didn’t get kidnapped” heeseung said smiling at you “I kinda hoped you did” sunoo said with a mocking tone and you hit his shoulder playfully as he laughed and the others looked

…

more days passed and the notes kept getting weirder, possessive..

“I love you” ~H

“I love you so much that it could even be mistaken for hate” ~H

“I love you so much, I wonder how your blood tastes” ~H

“does my love scares you?” ~H

“it scares me too.” ~H

…

followed, you felt followed and watched everywhere you went, like if you were supervised and then weird things started happening, students started to disappear

MONDAY

jake, from math classes who asked you for a pencil, gone.

“you’re beautiful and bittersweet” ~H

TUESDAY

sunghoon, who was your lab partner, gone.

“part of me wanna do stupid shit” ~H

WEDNESDAY

jay, who sat across you at lunch just yesterday, gone.

“gotta admit I’m a hypocrite” ~H

THURSDAY

niki, who you waved back when you arrived to the classroom, gone.

“I love you so much, I want to punch him in the face” ~H

FRIDAY

sadly the worst day, Sunoo who you literally texted to this morning… gone.

“I’m lots of things but not sorry” ~H

Enough.

At first you thought you were crazy, did the notes person do this? how would this person that you haven’t ever meet do this?, but after Sunoo was gone and you got that note you were sure

So then you decided you would stay at school waiting for him ever if it meant to stay till night, and that’s what you did

you say right in front of the famous locker, not daring to even blink, you would catch the note person no matter what

not even minutes, but hours passed

then you started to get sleepy, event though you tried to fight about it, eyes became heavier than before and you completely went to dreamland

…

you started to wake up, trying to recognize the hallway but you weren’t there anymore, everything was dark, you tried to stand up but didn’t realized your hands were tied, desperation started to come to you then a voice came clear

“you woke up, my sweet girl..

… my sweet naughty girl”

and as the light turned on, you couldn’t believe what you’re eyes saw

lee heeseung.

the guy you hung with almost the whole year, the guy who knew where you live, who you knew, who probably took sunoo..

“what happened baby? you didn’t expect to see me?”

“was it you?” you said while looking at the floor “was it you who took them? who took sunoo-“ “who took those idiots who dared to look at you?, I did and I’m happy that I did, they’re the reason that I had you waiting out there for me”

you felt like crying, how could this happen? and he seemed to noticed as he came closer, he sat in front of you as he took your chin and looked at your eyes

“my love don’t be sad.. now that you’re here with me I swear no one else will dissapear”

“because I’ll make sure no one but me will have the pleasure of looking at your face.”

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

HELLOOO, this is my first time ever writing so I’m super sorry if it’s kinda boring or I repeated a lot of words :( English it’s not my first language and I just started writing, this imagine is inspired by the song “I LUV U” by Mia Rodríguez so I hoped you liked it :(

[unsuredreamer]

Your Heart pt 2

Bridget Hearts 🩷 x fem! reader

Half of it is in the present, making Bridget an adult, but i decided to use Queen of Hearts for her older cruel version

Also, I wrote it overnight, so it might not be that good. Bear with me 😭

"Hey B...you have to eat. Please eat this for me" Ella passed her friend a sandwich, a simple peanut butter-jelly sandwich, with the crust cut off in the shape of a heart. Bridget loved heart-shaped things. It was her signature, her favorite shape, her favorite word, her favorite thing -scratch that- it was not her favorite thing , nor would it be when you existed.

She loved raspberry jam. The sweet yet tart flavor, which reminds her of summer sunshine - bright, vibrant, and refreshing. The fruit possesses a delicate, ephemeral quality that makes it delightful and memorable for the senses. You loved raspberries and she loved how you talked about how 'they are better than strawberries because every raspberry tastes delightful and you'd have to pick a good enough strawberry for it to taste even remotely as good as the one and only fruit'

Now, she feels physically sick at the thought of even looking at the pink colored fruit.

"Come on, my heart, I'm going to teach you how to swim today. I promise not to let go of you ever, okay?" Your bright smile lit up her world as you guided her through the maze of the forest. It was an ordinarily hot day in Auradon, the tree crowns pleasuring you with shadows as the colder than usual water refreshed your bodies.

She loved your Thursday picnics on the hills. With your special pbj's and her basket of pastries. It was sweet as usual,

Why Thursday? She felt bad that no one liked this day of the week, the constantly forgotten day that no one really plans anything for it. Friday's better, and Wednesday is the middle of the week. So you made it your mission to make this day the best of all after seeing her sulking one day about it.

You'd sit and just talk for hours in the sun. Far away enough from your favorite tree for it to not be shielding you from the sunbeams. Her head on your lap, with your hand tangled in her pink locks as you dreamily described every possible shape you could see while looking at the clouds. Her eyes averted from you to the landscape every now and then. It was perfect. The warmth of the biggest star shining on your faces, colliding with the chilly breeze grazing your skin, it was a wonderful mix.

"What are you thinking about, my heart?"

The phrase rolling off your tongue just like a melody, Her name said by you engraved in her memory for good.

"Nothing, really. I'm just enjoying the moment with you. It means a lot"

It truly did mean a lot. A feeling nothing would ever top. The calmness she felt and relief while being with you. You were like an oasis on the desert. A huge blanket she jumped under after a long day. And a warm shower after a heavy, freezing rainstorm. The love bursting from you just made her wish she was the one loved by you forever. She wanted to be the only one your eyes lit upon seeing. Seeking every ounce of touch from you.

The sight of your unconscious body made Bridget shiver and freeze. She fell, her weak knees hitting the blood-stained ground. The once beautiful, white pebbles, turning maroon as the red liquid pooled out of the corpse.

Her hand reaching for yours only for it to vanish into thin air.

"Bridget?" worried Ella placed her hand over her best friends shoulder. "I will leave it here, okay? please eat, i will be back as soon as i can, promise." She placed the sandwich on the bedside table, grabbing all the untouched food she had brought previously. Walking out of the room, she was met with nothing but silence. Not even a hum from the very hurt and broken princess.

A dead body with a spear shot right through the heart. Hazed eyes and this defeated expression, staring longingly into the distance. The white button-up shirt peppered in small hearts growing more and more burgundy.

Ella felt terrible. She couldn't help her friend even if she wanted to. All she could do was to be there and comfort her. At the same time not being able to throw those awful memories of this day from her own head. Watching her bubbly and full of life platonic soulmate completely shut off and become a ghost of a person was truly painful. Those excruciating sobs she tried to cover up so badly at night hurt her heart to the point she herself tried not to let out a waterfall of tears.

"She will be back! I can feel it! I'm not crazy I swear!" Those broken attempts of yells mixed with cries of helpfulness.

Bridget didn't even try to. She only did so in case to not wake other students up. Her burning chest could not let her sleep. Even if she did have some rest, you visiting her in her dreams would only strengthen the feeling. She felt you faltering away from her. She began to forget the sound of your voice and the way you laughed. She could not possibly, she has to remember every single detail of you.

The gut-wrenching pinning in her lungs made her unable to breathe. All she did was lay under her covers, trying to feel the warmth your hands delivered every time you placed them on her body. Delicately on her waist, harshly on her shoulder, gently grabbing her fists, trying to stop her from her madness. Placing them on her cheek, trying to steady her breaths after another panic attack she had gotten from her confidence tumbling down like dominoes thanks to her bullies.

She touched herself in chance she gets the same result, the same sense of someone being there for her like you were. But all she got in return was a deathly cold hand on her skin and the imaginary feeling you were still there to hold her. To brush her hair away when it fell so ungracefully on her face upon baking another batch of cupcakes with you, raspberry cupcakes with the hint of white chocolate, Both flavors going excellent with eachother like you and Bridget once did.

She felt your presence, hugging her so close, so firm from behind, wrapping your arms around her body as if saying you're still there, and you always will be.

But you were not. It was a lie she was very aware of dragging herself into. Hurting herself every day with the false presentation of you walking around her room, smiling from ear to ear, blabering about how you'd make another couple happen, about how it was the perfect match. You were her perfect match, and now she's left alone with only half of her heart. A piece of yours was the only thing of you she had left, beside a hoodie you once had given her.

She was going mad. She stayed in it for days and days only for it to not lose your scent she so desperately wished to keep. But even this would falter eventually.

"B, come on, you have to shower. I promise not to wash the hoodie. It'll be waiting for you after you get out"

She lied, she had to wash the hoodie, it lost its charm and the beautiful smell. Ony giving her the illusion it was still there.

Heck, everything was an illusion. Her head was playing tricks, not even the best magicians could. Her heart fell for them miserably, sinking so low that nothing could ever pick it up and place back where it belonged. It belongs to you.

-

"Mom, Mom? Are you okay?" Worried Red placed her hand on her mothers shoulder. It's been half a year since her and Chloe changed the past. She was getting used to her mother being nicer, more loving. They talked more often, and she felt more comfortable being with her. But it was the first time she had seen her mother in such a state after what she had seen in the past.

The lifeless expression was quickly slapped off the Queens face - replaced by a very gentle smile - upon hearing her daughter speak, her touch sending a wave of shivers throughout her body "Oh yes Red my dear! We should be heading to the family's day dinner now, shall we?"

On the way to Auredon, through the rabbit hole, Red had to keep herself from asking about the woman she so yearned to know more of. She did not want to hurt her mother even more than she already was. It was one thing to lose someone. It was another to lose someone who devoted their whole life to you "I love you, mom,"

The Queen took ahold of her daughters hand smiling lightly, the unexpected words coming out of her mouth made Bridgets chest swell with gratitude "I love you more darling"

"I'm going to say hi to Chloe" Red ran off after giving her mother a side hug. Small gesture, but it made Bridget smile once again.

She loved having her daughter, her little angel. Red was like a small light in her life, someone she grew to care about after all she had been through. She tamed her, just like she used to tame her, the bad thoughts and the voices in her head, the anger and the anxiety.

"Off with his head!" the words echoed through the dining room of the palace.

"But, but Bridget, He is your daughters dad and soon to be ruler of -"

"He's no father to Red, nor will he ever be my husband. I don't need him anymore. Shall I repeat my order?"

She was always bound for this fate. To be this mean, cruel ruler. To go mad. Everyone's mad in Wonderland. It's up to you to decide how mad you're going to be.

But Red was there. To quieten the voices and relieve the pain. She lived for Red, who brought the happiness back into her life. The small bits of it, but nonetheless, she was her greatest accomplishment.

"Bridget!" Her bestfriends voice brought her back from her daydreams. After a very warm hug, she greeted her with yet another smile. Never this bright how it used to be, but still a smile of some kinds.

Her dear husband coming right after her.

The envy she felt forbidding her from sparing even a glance at him.

"We've just been talking with Beast and Belle about the upcoming plans of Mal and Ben, and - how are you B?" Ella stopped after acknowledging her dear best friend, staring at the ground, totally cut off from the world, the old rusty pebbles glistening in the daylight.

"I'm great, Charming, never better!" The pink Queen of Hearts burst out. Was she truly feeling better? Never, only in the comfort of her bed chamber with your blouse tightly clutched in her hands. "You could tell me more about your daughter getting into the advanced fencing group? I heard from Red she's excellent. Oh, and my congratulations on your son finishing up college. It's about time this happened!" she laughed light-heartedly reaching for her necklace, silver necklace with a cherry red glass heart.

Suddenly a crowd of ghasps echoed at the event, terrified royals hang tightly onto their lovers and children upon seeing a human-like posture fly over the sky, loose its every ounce of power left and hit the ground so hard it almost looked like a grenade explosion. As the dirt and small stones fell down, the King stepped up, getting closer to the figure, "Everyone keep calm"

The fallen angel covered was by its huge white wings, resembling those of Icarus, burned down by the sun and worn out presumably from flying too much. The groan it let out was so piercing and full of pain, squeezing every person's heart in sorrow and compassion. Its wings dissappearing in an instant, uncovering a beautiful, goddes-like woman. With wet hair falling imperfectly on her face and her clothes torn apart, loosely hanging off her body. Her bloodied bruised skin mixed with dirt was an excruciating scene to be looking at. Her broken voice let out whimpers and pleads.

"Let's get this creature out of here" Mal, the Queen, ordered, her eyes glowing green upon being alarmed of the potential danger.

"NO!" The Queen of Hearts let out loudly, startling everyone present. Dragging herself closer to the fallen angel, basically running straight to it, she dropped on her knees before her. Bridget's eyes started to water uncontrollably, her heart hammered in her chest as her shaky hand reached out to cup the angels head and place it on her lap. "My love..." she brushed your hair away, smiling from ear to ear. The tears streamed down her face as she finally held you close.

You were there. Alive.

Your eyes fluttered open, your blurred sight coming back to senses "Who are you?" You breathed out upon seeing the pink posture hovering over you "And why do you have my heart?"

[probablyasocialecologist]

This is it. Generative AI, as a commercial tech phenomenon, has reached its apex. The hype is evaporating. The tech is too unreliable, too often. The vibes are terrible. The air is escaping from the bubble. To me, the question is more about whether the air will rush out all at once, sending the tech sector careening downward like a balloon that someone blew up, failed to tie off properly, and let go—or more slowly, shrinking down to size in gradual sputters, while emitting embarrassing fart sounds, like a balloon being deliberately pinched around the opening by a smirking teenager. But come on. The jig is up. The technology that was at this time last year being somberly touted as so powerful that it posed an existential threat to humanity is now worrying investors because it is apparently incapable of generating passable marketing emails reliably enough. We’ve had at least a year of companies shelling out for business-grade generative AI, and the results—painted as shinily as possible from a banking and investment sector that would love nothing more than a new technology that can automate office work and creative labor—are one big “meh.” As a Bloomberg story put it last week, “Big Tech Fails to Convince Wall Street That AI Is Paying Off.” From the piece: Amazon.com Inc., Microsoft Corp. and Alphabet Inc. had one job heading into this earnings season: show that the billions of dollars they’ve each sunk into the infrastructure propelling the artificial intelligence boom is translating into real sales. In the eyes of Wall Street, they disappointed. Shares in Google owner Alphabet have fallen 7.4% since it reported last week. Microsoft’s stock price has declined in the three days since the company’s own results. Shares of Amazon — the latest to drop its earnings on Thursday — plunged by the most since October 2022 on Friday. Silicon Valley hailed 2024 as the year that companies would begin to deploy generative AI, the type of technology that can create text, images and videos from simple prompts. This mass adoption is meant to finally bring about meaningful profits from the likes of Google’s Gemini and Microsoft’s Copilot. The fact that those returns have yet to meaningfully materialize is stoking broader concerns about how worthwhile AI will really prove to be. Meanwhile, Nvidia, the AI chipmaker that soared to an absurd $3 trillion valuation, is losing that value with every passing day—26% over the last month or so, and some analysts believe that’s just the beginning. These declines are the result of less-than-stellar early results from corporations who’ve embraced enterprise-tier generative AI, the distinct lack of killer commercial products 18 months into the AI boom, and scathing financial analyses from Goldman Sachs, Sequoia Capital, and Elliot Management, each of whom concluded that there was “too much spend, too little benefit” from generative AI, in the words of Goldman, and that it was “overhyped” and a “bubble” per Elliot. As CNN put it in its report on growing fears of an AI bubble, Some investors had even anticipated that this would be the quarter that tech giants would start to signal that they were backing off their AI infrastructure investments since “AI is not delivering the returns that they were expecting,” D.A. Davidson analyst Gil Luria told CNN. The opposite happened — Google, Microsoft and Meta all signaled that they plan to spend even more as they lay the groundwork for what they hope is an AI future. This can, perhaps, explain some of the investor revolt. The tech giants have responded to mounting concerns by doubling, even tripling down, and planning on spending tens of billions of dollars on researching, developing, and deploying generative AI for the foreseeable future. All this as high profile clients are canceling their contracts. As surveys show that overwhelming majorities of workers say generative AI makes them less productive. As MIT economist and automation scholar Daron Acemoglu warns, “Don’t believe the AI hype.”

6 August 2024

[atoltia]

Thanks for worrying, but I'm fine.

March begrudgingly posts a request on the notice board for ore. He didn't expect that he'd have to handle the newbie in town like that.

TW: some blood, some swearing

-0-

The past week was particularly rough.

Ever since Adeline began the upgrades for the town, things have been hectic at the forge. The usual order of nails, screws, and bolts were quadrupled, and alongside the massive order for reinforced tools it had been hell for both him and Olric so much that they had to resort working around the clock just to keep pace with the schedule.

It would have been fine. March was used to high production work, even though it got mind numbing plenty of times. Pressure was nothing. The physical labor of it all was manageable. It would have been under control.

If only they didn't start to run out of fucking ore.

March found out quickly when taking stock. At the rate that they were going, they were gonna run out by midday Thursday, if not Wednesday evening, next week. Olric offered to go back to the mines but he vehemently declined, stating that they would be delayed even more if he went (and he definitely didn't say that didn't want to see his brother hurt).

Getting the ore from Balor would cost them a fortune. And that's assuming the man has the ore in stock in the quantities they needed in the first place.

If they didn't get the necessary materials by then, the entire initiative would be delayed by at least 4 days and he will not have that.

So against his better judgement, he decided to make a request on the notice board.

-0-

He didn't expect much from it

The notice board was often used for small quantity items like missing ingredients for the Friday Night stew or a few sprigs of foraged herbs. Not a fuck ton of metal.

March managed to wrangle a deal with Balor to get the entirety of his stock at a discount, but it wasn't even close to enough. The next town was days away, and ordering from the closest guild would take them a month. He was getting to the point where he would have relented and allowed Olric to go mining and leave him at the forge.

But apparently he didn't need to.

He started noticing it late into the night.

Both the brothers haven't seen Sandra much lately, with everyone being too busy with Adeline's plans. March would see her every now and then, zipping through the town hauling wood and stone from days on end. She'd stop by the inn every once in a while, but she'd only eat her meal, chat for a few minutes, and head back to wherever the fuck. It was insanity.

He'd been seeing her dragging herself through town, the pickaxe that she bought from him weeks ago strapped to her waist, at almost the same time every night. It became a such frequent occurrence that when he'd look out the window at that exact timeframe, she would be there.

She wasn't carrying anything else, not that he could see, besides the pick and a small bag.

Besides maybe the exhaustion.

He could see it in the way she walked - the slow, dragging of her feet instead of the usual confident stride. The loose grip on her bag, the slight unfocused look in her eye.

March didn't know why that sight of her pissed him off.

-0-

The deadline loomed over him as he made the orders to his standard. Olric managed to haggle a few crates more of iron from a few travelling merchants and the cost of them made him very unhappy. But at that point, there was nothing else they could do. It didn't help that Olric injured his arm so the option to go to the mines was no longer on the table, as well as March having to work even more although his brother insisted that he still could be of assistance.

Neither of them has seen Sandra at all since yesterday, but that didn't matter. It really didn't matter.

(And yet why was he annoyed that she kept passing through his mind?)

-0-

They were in trouble.

There was only a small bucket of bars left and still a fuck ton of nails and fasteners to make. None of their contacts pulled through and Balor still hasn't come back from his emergency supply run. Adeline kept asking him if they would make the deadline.

He was at his wit's end.

That was why he was particularly annoyed when someone knocked on his door that night. It wasn't his brother, Olric wouldn't have knocked if it was him.

Tossing a rag rather harshly on a nearby table, March stalked towards the door and yanked it open, snarling when he saw it was Sandra of all people.

"What do you want?"

The woman merely smiled and stepped aside, revealing a trolley stacked with crates. The crates were full of ore- all the copper and iron that they could possibly need, stacked neatly on top of each other. He couldn't believe it.

"Your order."

March looked up and she held up the request he pinned to the board days ago, all crumpled up and torn at the edges with several colors of dirt smeared on it. He was aghast.

"You're insane."

A laugh tinkled the air as she leaned against his doorjamb, her arms folded over her chest, her long, dark hair mussed over her face. A satisfied smile rested over her face. "I'd like my reward now, please."

"Right."

He didn't exactly expected this to happen, but he got the reward as promised. A bag full of rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. Without a second thought, he grabbed the rather large sack of tesserae beneath the counter to give alongside it.

He wasn't prepared for the frown that crossed her face when he handed her both items. "Anything wrong?"

"I thought it was only the jewels?"

The redhead shrugged, waved his hand at her. "You've given us enough to last for months. Just take it."

The frown never left her face, and he really didn't know why it annoyed him even more. His jaw dropped when he watched her give it back.

"Thank you, March. But I don't need it."

"Just fucking take it."

"No."

"God's above." The snarl came back as he grabbed the sack from her outstretched hand, but hastily withdrew when he saw her flinch ever so slightly.

It jarred him.

He looked up with a brow raised, finally taking the time to look her over. She was covered in dirt and grime, her clothes were damp as if she fell into a river hours ago and just left it to air dry, her hair was a tangled mess.

Her usual pristine clothes were torn in several different locations, her hands were raw, scratches riddled her arms and legs.

There was a deep gash on her leg. Blood pooled on the stone at her feet.

Sandra's breath was labored, her eyes almost dead from fatigue. She wasn't leaning against his doorjamb to relax, no. She was leaning against it so she wouldn't collapse.

It infuriated him.

"Fucking damn it, come inside."

March rolled his eyes when he saw her raise a brow, not moving an inch.

"I don't want to track blood on your floor."

"I don't care."

"It's alright, March. I'll just go home."

"You are not," he snapped. With a huff, he took his coat and stepped out, pulling her to him. "I'm taking you to the doc-"

It was quick enough that he didn't fully process it. One moment he had his hand on her elbow and the next he was pressed against the wall of his shop, both his hands gripped tightly behind his back.

His body tensed as he felt her chest press against his back. The warmth of her breath tickled against his ear. He didn't know if the loud pounding was the blood rushing to his ears or the fact that his heart started to beat radically against her close proximity.

"Please don't." Her voice was low, dangerously so, as she gripped him tighter, making him wonder where she got this sudden strength as she was so close to toppling over just mere moments ago. "I don't want to hurt you, March."

With that, he felt her loosen her grip, gently pressing at his wrist in comfort before taking a few steps back as he turned around. The amused smile was once again on her face.

"I appreciate the worry, March." Her voice was a little strained, but lighter compared to before. "Really. But I just want to go home." And with one last salute, she left him there without much of a backwards glance.

And still, he couldn't get the scent of her perfume off of his senses.

-0-

Two days later, he wouldn't ever tell a soul that he sent her a perfected silver pickaxe.

---

This became way longer than I anticipated it to be lmao

I like to imagine March likes being manhandled asdasfas

This is the third installment of my March x Farmer series, you can check out the rest here!

Previous story: What his eyes can see, part 1

Next story: Lean on me

[pregnant-piggy]

hey I want wondering if you could do a harry j potter x reader oneshot when the are dating for a few months (takes place in ootp or hbp I don’t really mind which) and reader is still not completely comfortable with cuddling and that kind of stuff with harry cause she just isn’t used to physical contact and one day when harry wants to cuddle with her in the evening she stiffens or flinches and harry is extremely worried (yk him and his adorable overreacting) cause he doesn’t know if she has any trauma or something and you can make the rest up just make it extremely fluffy (only if you want to do it tho I just think it’d be very cute <3)

hi love, so while my requests are technically not open, you were lucky there weren't many requests from my celebration so i did write this :) and it wouldn't be a blurb from me if it wasn't 1.3k words (i swear i'm not doing it on purpose)

Flinch

The fire spit out sparks near your feet as you poured over your Divination homework. You were halfway but it was becoming harder and harder to come up with solutions and explanations of your dreams and with every minute that passed your concentration grew smaller. Not that there had been much to begin with when you'd started, but whether you liked it or not, the deadline was approaching fast.

Just as you'd finished describing your dream of last Thursday—something to do with unruly black hair and glasses—you got interrupted. Someone dropped to the couch behind where you were sitting on the floor and let out a loud sigh. Then in the corner of your eye you saw a flash of red hair darting to the last empty chair on your side, followed by a "How gentleman-like of you, Ron".

Hermione sat down next to you on the floor and glanced at your parchment. "I feel sad for you."

"You should," you said, dropping your quill and massaging your forehead with your fingers. "It's a wreck."

"Wait a minute." Ron perked up from his slouch in the armchair. "Why did you not feel sorry for me when I complained about it today?"

Hermione shook her head. "Because you don't even try, Ron! You predicted you'd be caught by a mob of horses and be forced to turn into a centaur."

"So?" Ron shrugged. "That's just what my dream meant."

"Be careful," you said to Ron. "Or soon you'll dream it's a mob of Hermiones chasing you."

Ron shivered as if that was the worst nightmare anyone could have and behind you Harry barked a laugh. You looked back at your boyfriend and smiled. The dating thing was still new and you were trying to find your way with it, but you were glad to have made him laugh.

"Hush now," you said, waving a hand towards Ron. "I want to finish this."

You did get silence but only for five minutes or so before Ron started to talk about the upcoming quidditch game against Ravenclaw. You, who had been busy coming up with a dream for Friday—maybe Ron's technique wasn't all that bad after all—got pulled from your focus. You tried for ten more minutes, but eventually had to admit that you were doing more bad than good and would have to correct everything you wrote tomorrow so you gave up  You threw your quill down and rested back against the bottom of the sofa, right next to Harry's legs.

Without turning away from his conversation, he laid his hand atop your head and started massaging it.

You froze, heart skipping a beat and pumping twice as fast after. Every muscle in your body grew rigid, frozen, and you carefully moved away, pretending to grab something of the table, but in fact trying to get away as unnoticeable as possible.

No one noticed. Harry's hand fell back but he said nothing nor did he move closer again. With a pounding heart you stared at your Divination paper, pretending you were fixing a mistake.

It wasn't Harry's fault. Really not. You'd never been good with physical contact but you also never thought it a real problem till you got together with Harry. Now each time he wrapped an arm around you or reached for your hand, you froze, panicked, feared. You weren't even sure why.

You also didn't know if Harry had noticed. He had never said anything about it and whenever it happened and you pulled away he seemed not to notice it. But you knew it wasn't fair to him and you did try to do better. Just yesterday he had taken your hand and without too much panic you'd held onto it for the entire walk.

It was a slow process and many times you were on the verge of telling him about it, but you were scared.

After a few minutes of calming down, you got up and sat next to Harry on the sofa, leaving enough space so you weren't touching but no one would think anything of it.

Ron was animatedly telling a story about Flitwick who had fallen off his chair and Harry turned to you.

"You alright?" he asked softly.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine." You bit your lip and Harry's gaze flicked down but back up quickly.

"Are you sure?" he went on. "You seem a bit off."

"No, all's good. Don't worry." You shrugged. "Just tired."

"Okay." Harry's mouth split into a smile. "'Cause you'd tell me if something was wrong right?"

"Of course." You tried a smile and apparently it was convincing enough for him to drop the subject.

"It's not that funny, Ron," Hermione said, tearing your focus from Harry. She shook her head while Ron wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Next to you, Harry smiled lazily. "It kinda was. He made the funniest noise ever." He proceeded to make some high-pitched noise that had Ron roaring with laughter in his chair until he fell off.

"Serves you right," Hermione mumbled, but there was a smile on her face.

You laughed and sunk a little more into the sofa. So much that you almost didn't see what happened next to you. Almost.

Harry stretched out his arm to lay it over your shoulders and before you could stop it, you flinched.

And this time there was no mistaking it. He noticed.

"What-?" he stuttered.

Your eyes were wide, your body frozen in shock. You hadn't meant for it to happen, didn't even know it would happen. You'd been on edge all day, tired, overworked, but you never figured it would end up like this.

And unfortunately not only Harry noticed.

"Ron," Hermione said. "Ron, come on. I want to talk to you."

Ron looked up from where he hadn't even bothered get up from the floor. "Why?"

"Just something." Hermione's eyes flicked to your frozen body and Harry's face that you were too afraid to look at. "Quickly. Come on, Ron."

"Alright, fine. But I don't see what could possibly be so important."

"Just come!"

Hermione quickly left, Ron following after her reluctantly. You were glad she'd given you some privacy, but you didn't want to see the undoubtedly hurt look on Harry's face.

"y/n?" Harry didn't reach out for you and somehow that hurt. "Can you look at me?"

You took a deep breath and looked up. You had expected pain, anger, disappointment, but instead there was only worry and confusion. Harry's eyes were full of concern and that gave you the slightest of hope. He didn't hate you.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

"I'm trying really hard, Harry. It's just... physical contact and touch and everything---it doesn't come easy to me. I don't know why; it's just always been so for me." You looked down at your hands in your lap. "And I want to change that. I do. But it takes time."

Harry was silent for a long time and you didn't look at him. You'd understand if he didn't want to see you any longer, if he wanted to break things off. You'd hate that, of course, but you'd understand.

"We have time."

"What?"

You lifted your gaze to his face. He was watching you with a smile.

"You said it takes time. We have time. All the time in the world if we need."

"You mean that," you realised.

"I do. I don't want to lose you over something like this. We'll find our way with it. I promise."

A watery laugh fell from your lips. You nodded, more relieved than words could describe. He didn't hate you, not at all. Your fears had been ungrounded.

"Thank you," you said. And very carefully, you placed your hand atop Harry's one. Nerves spiked in your chest, but you pushed them down. "It's not that I hate you touching me. It's just a bit more difficult."

Harry turned his hand over and held yours. He was careful, soft.

"That's alright," he said. "I'm still yours."

- - - - - - -

hp taglist: @kingalrdy @missswriter @awritingtree @ananad1 @secretsthathauntus @izzyyy-1 @nyotamalfoy @xxinvisiblexx @idli-dosa @lacunaanonymoused @kitkatkl @d22malfoys

[callsign-dexter]

A Dog Situation

Request: Hi I love your work and was wondering if you could do a Tim Bradford x daughter!reader where maybe Nolan is watching her while Tim is at work because it’s a weekend, and they decide to go out to lunch and on the way back they pass by a box that says ‘free puppies’ a reader grabs one and Nolan knows he shouldn’t agree but he’s a big softie and then Tim comes homes and is just so confused.

No pressure to write this have a good day/night🫶🏻

Pairings: Tim Bradford x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: fluff

Baby Bradford: A Little Fighter

Masterlist

A/N: thank you to @callsigns-haze for making this very adorable banner!

It was rare for Tim to be working on a weekend but Sergeant Grey needed all the help he could get out on the streets. Tim loved his job but he loved spending time with you more. Of course, you understood that his job could be demanding and took him away from you on the weekends, you couldn't be mad about that after all he is the one paying the bills.

Usually, you would have a babysitter on hand or when the others weren't working that got put on babysitting duty, giving your normal babysitter a break. Normally Talia and Nolan would be going in as well but weren't called in for whatever reason. You had known that he was getting called into work the weekend on Thursday and it wasn't a big surprise. Instead of your dad coming home Friday night he would be working until Saturday night which meant that Nolan would be picking you up and spending the night at your house in the guest room.

You love your ‘Uncle’ Nolan. He gave you all the sweets you wanted and let you do things your dad wouldn't let you do, though he respected your dad's rules. He also understood you and knew how to react in certain situations because he also had a kid, a son. If it wasn't for him, you probably would be much harder on your dad, of course you were hard on him but it could be worse.

It had been decided that Tim would be dropping you off at school Friday morning and then Nolan would be picking you up. You had already known Angela and Talia very well and Tim trusted them with you. It took a while but eventually Tim was ok with leaving you with the rookies, you made fast friends with everyone. He was more than ok leaving you with Nolan because he too was a dad and knew how children could be, he knew how to handle situations.

Tim's 6:30 AM alarm had just gotten off and jerked him out of his sleep. He was quick to turn it off before it could wake you up. He laid there for a second but then was rolling out of bed and started to get ready for a full day of work and then overnight work. He quickly took a shower and brushed his teeth and then dressed, after he was done, he walked out and went to your room and checked in on you. He smiled seeing that you were still asleep. He closed the door and went to the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee for him and started to get breakfast ready for him and you. When he heard your door open and the pitter patter of feet coming into the kitchen he smiled, right on time. “Hey, Sweetheart.” He said when you came and stood next to him, he slung an arm around your shoulders and you melted into his touch.

“Hi, Daddy.” You said not truly awake yet. He turned and kissed your head and then turning back towards the food,

“Remember Nolan is going to be picking you up today and staying with you until I get off work tomorrow afternoon.” He said and you nodded.

“I remember.” You said and he smiled and then you were moving away from him and grabbing a glass so you could get something to drink. Just about that time he had turned off the stove and you watched him stack the pancakes on the plates, then heading over to you sitting one plate in front of you and then the other where he would be sitting.

Both of you ate in a relatively comfortable silence, every now and then talk would happen but other than that nothing much was said. When you both finished your breakfast, he looked at you “Go ahead and get ready for school.” He said and watched you get up and put your plate in the sink and then scamper off heading to get ready for school, he smiled watching you. He asked himself how he got so lucky to have you as a kid. He hated what your mother did to you but that just meant that you had a stronger bond with him. Not long, you were coming out dressed and ready to go. He smiled at you as you grabbed your bag and he grabbed his and the both of you were out the door and to his truck.

After a short trip to your school, he was pulling up to the front of the school and turning to you. “Be good and don't smart off. Also remember to be good for Nolan when he comes and picks you up and stays with you.” He said, giving you a pointed look and you smiled up at him.

“I’m always good, Dad.” You said and he smiled and kissed your forehead.

“Don’t put him in a situation where he can't say no to either.” He said as you were getting out and you turned and smirked at him.

“I would never do that.” You said with a playfully hurt expression but he quickly turned into a smile and then you were shutting the door and giving him a wave and then you were off going into the school meeting up with some of your friends.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Tim arrived at the precinct and had just parked beside Lucy’s car. He got out and started into the precinct. He said hi to people and the front desk person. He walked into the locker room and started getting dressed when Nolan walked up to him. “Hey.” He said and Tim looked at him and smiled.

“Hey, Y/N is excited to be able to hang out with you tonight and tomorrow.” He said and Nolan smiled.

“I’m excited too. I love that kid.” Nolan said and that made Tim smile.

“She loves you too. Oh, don’t let her get you in a situation that you can’t say no to. She is good about doing that. Also don’t fall for the puppy dog eyes.” Tim said and Nolan chuckled.

“Nobody can resist those eyes.” He said and Tim smiled and agreed. They walked out in the briefing room and got ready to start the day.

The rest of the day went by smoothly, calls were answered and arrests were made. Before anyone knew it, it was the end of the day. Nolan walked in and got changed and as he was walking out Tim caught him. “Hey, have a good night tonight and day tomorrow. If you need me, call me and I’ll answer and if I’m needed, I’ll be there. Kitchen is fair game and so is the coffee, other drinks, there is food in the pantry, freezer, and fridge. Take out is also an option, Y/N/N knows where the money is and she has my credit card plugged into her phone and most take out options.” Tim said and Nolan nodded and smiled.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have fun and if we need you, you will be notified. Also, I can pay for the food.” Nolan said and Tim nodded.

“You don’t have to do that.” Tim said and Nolan shook his head.

“I want to.” He replied and Tim nodded in defeat. He knew that his little girl is in good hands but he’s a dad, it’s his job to worry. “Now go continue your shift. I’m gonna go and pick up your little girl and we’re going to have a blast. We’ll send pictures.” Nolan said and that made Tim smile. Tim walked off when Seargent Grey called out to him and Nolan was off to get you. Nolan walked to his truck and got in after throwing his bag into the back and then he got into the driver’s side and started his truck up and headed to your school, which wasn’t that far. Nolan got in the line with the other cars and waited for them to move. When he was finally up in the front, he saw you waiting and then when you saw him you smiled and hurriedly walked to his truck and he got in. “Hello, Baby Braford.” He said and you rolled your eyes.

“Hello, Uncle Nolan.” You said and you gave him a hug and you both were headed to your house. “What’s the plan for tonight?” You asked and he smiled.

“Well, your dad said there was some food in the pantry, fridge, and freezer. So, we can cook something up or we can order out. I was also thinking about having a movie night.” He said and you turned to him and he made a quick glance at you and saw you smiling and smiled but then paid attention to the road.

“Ohhh!!! Chinese food and movie night!” You said and he chuckled.

“You got it.” He said “We’ll order it once we get home.” He added and you nodded excited. Before you knew it you were home and he was pulling into the driveway. He parked the truck and killed the engine and then you both were getting out. Nolan grabbed his second bag and you grabbed your backpack and you both headed into the house after you unlocked the door with your key. You set your bag on by the door and Nolan walked to the guest room and set his bag on the bed. He walked out of the room and into the kitchen where you were leaning against the counter scrolling on your phone answering texts from your friends and your dad. You looked up when you heard Nolan. “Alright, you wanna go ahead and order the food and get movie night started?” He asked and nodded excitedly. “Why don’t you go and get changed and I’ll order, my treat.” He said before you could argue and nodded and headed off. “Want your usual?” He asked and you turned to him.

“Of course.” You said with that Bradford smirk and watched you walk on. He pulled out his phone and opened the app and ordered his and your usual order. Now the wait starts.

It wasn’t long until you had come out in some sweats and your dad’s hoodie that you “borrowed” from him but he knew he had lost it when you got your hands on it. Nolan had gotten the TV said up when you had come out of your room and into the living room. “What do you want to watch?” He asked as you came and sat down on the couch.

“National Treasure?” You asked

“Oh, my favorite. Do you want to start with the first one and then watch the second one?” He asked and you nodded excitedly. This is why he was your favorite. 20 minutes into the movie and the doorbell rang meaning the food was here and he got up to answer it as you got up and grabbed drinks. He shut the door and you both walked into the living room. You both sorted out the food and then you started the movie back up and began to eat.

After National Treasure ended you started National Treasure: Book of Secrets up and you both laughed and commented throughout the movie. Food was eaten throughout both movies and you had a blanket thrown over you. It was getting pretty late by the time that one ended but you were nowhere near ready to go to bed. As the credits rolled you looked over at Nolan “What’s it’s gonna be now?” You asked and he thought about it.

“Top Gun?” He asked and he watched your face light up. Top Gun was one of your all-time favorites and it was your dad’s too.

“Yes!!!! I knew you were my favorite for a reason.” You said and he laughed.

“There are a lot of reasons why I’m your favorite.” He said and you nodded.

“You got that right.” You said and then you got up and switched out the movies and then rushed to the couch and threw the blanket back over you and snuggled into Nolan. When it got to Goose’s death you cried so hard, you always did and Nolan wasn’t going to lie he teared up too. Once it ended, which you were sad about, you turned to him “Did you hear that they are coming out with a second one?” You asked and he turned to you.

“Oh really? When is it coming out?” He asked

“They haven’t given a date yet.” You said and he nodded and then you decided on a few more movies, Rock of Ages, Battleship, and all of the Mission Impossibles, and before you knew it, it was 12 AM. Throughout the night pictures of you and Nolan’s selfies of you and him eating and making funny pictures were sent to Tim.

“Alright, kiddo. Time for bed.” He said and you looked at him.

“I’m not even tired.” You said just as soon as a yawn escaped you and he chuckled.

“Nope. Bed time.” He said and you pouted but got up and trudged off into your room and got into bed and fell asleep quickly.

Nolan started to clean up and turn the TV off and made sure the movie was in the movie case, and threw away the trash. He turned off the lights and headed to the guest room. He stopped at your door and opened it and checked in on you and smiled when he saw that you were sound asleep. He shut the door and walked into the bedroom and got ready for bed. Once he was ready, he laid down and was quick to fall asleep.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The next morning, Saturday, you woke up the smell of bacon and pancakes. Your stomach growled and it had you getting up and walking out of your room and into the kitchen to see Nolan already dressed and at the stove. When he heard you, he turned and he smiled “Hey.” He said and you smiled “I figured we have breakfast and then get out of the house and do some shopping and hanging out.” He said and you smiled.

“That sounds great.” You said and he smiled and turned off the stove and then handed you a plate and you both got what you wanted and then sat down at the table. You saw that your drink and his coffee were already on the table. Breakfast was eaten and small talk was made. He asked you about school and you asked him about work. It was fun and it was like when you were talking with your dad.

After breakfast you were getting up and putting your dish in the sink, something your dad taught you from an early age “Hey, once you get dressed and teeth brushed. We’ll get going.” Nolan said and you nodded. You were quick to get ready into some jeans and a ‘Talk to me, Goose’ shirt and then you threw on your dad’s hoodie again. You brushed your teeth and put your hair up in a ponytail. You grabbed your phone and headed into the kitchen. Nolan had just finished wiping down the table and counter when he turned when he heard you “Ready to go?” He asked and you nodded and he smiled. You both walked out and you locked the door behind you. You both got into the truck and headed off into the town.

When he got to where he had planned, he parked and killed the engine and then you both were getting out and walked into the shop. You both had a blast and bought some things. Everything was close enough so you didn’t have to keep getting back into the truck and leaving. After spending the morning shopping, you decided to have lunch at a cute little bakery. You both talked about anything and everything. As you finished lunch and were heading back to the truck because your dad was due home in 3 hours, you heard what sounded like puppy whimpering and you being an animal lover had to go and investigate. Meaning you veered off from Nolan and he was quick to take notice of this “Y/N.” He said and started off after you but you ignored him “Y/N Bradford, you cannot just walk off.” He said in a tone a parent would use when scolding a child, which he technically was.

“But Uncle Nolan! I heard puppies! I just couldn’t walk away.” You all but pouted.

“Never do it again.” He said and you nodded. You then turned and looked at the box that said ‘Free Puppies’. You peered down at them and there were only 2 left. They were Golden Retriever puppies, standard golden color. They both came straight to you when you bent down to see them and you picked them up, both were male. Nolan could see the wheels turning “Y/N.” He said in a warning tone.

“Uncle Nolan.” You whined “Please. Look at them.” You said and put the puppy in front of his face and licked him and then he looked at you and you had brought on your puppy dog eyes. This would be the situation that Tim said not to let you get him into. Nolan had an internal battle with himself but his heart won.

“Ok, fine.” He said “They're kind of cute.” He said and you squealed

“We need to take the other one, Uncle Nolan. We can't split them up.” You said and Nolan looked apprehensive.

“Y/N.” He said trying so hard not to give in but he was losing.

“Please, with a cherry on top.” You pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

“Fine. I remember passing a pet store while walking around. We can stop in and grab some stuff. Your dad is going to kill me.” He said but you weren’t listening to him because you were interested in the puppies. As you arrived at the pet store you walked in and Nolan got a shopping cart and first went to the collars, leashes, and harness. You got collars, harnesses, and leashes in blue and red. Then you went to get bowls for water and food. After doing that you got some KONG toys and 4 beds. Then two crates that would be switched to bigger ones when they got older. As you got to the food you were a little lost until a worker came over and helped you and got you treats. Then you went to the dog tags. “What are you gonna name them?” Nolan asked and you thought long and hard about it.

“Maverick and Goose.” You said beaming up at him, he smiled and shook his head. That is a perfect name. He typed it in for you, putting Maverick on the front and then your name and phone number and then Tim’s name and number on the back it printed out on a blue dog bone shaped tag with black writing. He did the same for Goose but on a red tag. Maverick and Goose had fallen asleep in your arms. Once it was done you headed over to check out and you paid for everything with your money and then you both were heading out and to his truck. He loaded everything and then helped you get in.

When you arrived back home you got out when the truck was parked and the engine was killed. You got out and put Maverick and Goose down on the ground to let him use the bathroom which he immediately did and then you headed inside. You played with Maverick and Goose while he brought everything in. When he did so he set everything up and got some water in a bowl and some food in the bowl. “Your dad is going to kill me.” He said again.

“No, he isn’t.” You said not taking your attention away from your new dogs. Not even 30 minutes later you heard your dad’s truck. Nolan and you looked up as he walked in and he froze when the puppies ran to him.

“Y/N.” He said when you came running to him.

“Dad.” You said in the same tone.

“What is this?” He asked

“This is Maverick and Goose. Our new dog!” You said excitedly and then he looked over at Nolan who had appeared.

“What happened?” Tim asked

“I was put in a position that I couldn’t say no.” Nolan said and Tim gave him a look “I couldn’t say no. She used the puppy dog eyes on me.” He said and then Tim turned to you.

“I told you not to put him in a situation where he couldn’t say no.” He said and you picked up the puppy and held it in front of Tim.

“But Daaaddd-” You said “look at them. How can you just pass this face up?” You added and Maverick, who you had picked up, licked him in the face and his face melted and he smiled and you knew you had won.

“Fine. We can keep him. But they are your responsibility. You take them out every time they wake up no matter what time and 30 minutes after they eat. You take them on walks. I’ll step in when needed but they are your responsibility. Understand?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes, sir.” You said “We put your name and number on their tags as well as mine.” You added and he nodded.

“Good.” He nodded and then you scampered off to play with Maverick and Goose. Both men watched you being happy.

“I couldn’t say no, honestly.” Nolan said

“It’s ok. I probably wouldn’t have said no either. She can be very convincing.” Tim said chuckling and so did Nolan “You are welcome to leave or you can stay. It’s up to you.” He said and Nolan nodded.

“I’ll stay if that is ok with you. I love puppies and being able to hang out with Y/N/N. After all, I'm her favorite uncle.” Nolan said and Tim laughed.

“That is true. Shall we go and get acquainted with the new family member?” Tim asked, looking at Nolan and he looked at him.

“I think we shall.” Nolan said. Both of them walked into the living room and sat down on the floor Maverick and Goose and you were quick to notice. Everyone laughed and was having a good time. Tim looked over at you.

“Are you happy, Baby Girl?” He asked and you looked at him and smiled.

“I am, Dad. Really happy.” You said and he could see that.

“As long as you're happy. I’m happy.” He said and pulled you into a hug which you snuggled into.

You’ve always wanted a male Golden Retriever and now you have two named Maverick or Goose. You were happy and loved him. Your dad had to admit that he loved him too, he has always wanted a dog in the house but always had been too busy but now that you had one in the house everything just seemed perfect and whole. Maverick and Goose had completed your family and you and your dad couldn’t be happier.

Tag list:

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[mewhenimanangel]

everywhere ʚɞ miles morales

pairing: 42!miles morales x reader

synopsis: miles finally asks to take you out.

wc: 2.3k

warnings!: swearing, kissing, making out, google translate spanish

prev ʚɞ

it'd been a week since miles invited you over and thanks to him, you got your grade up. the week had been full of flirting, whispering and laughing during class, texting all the time, him and his friend joined your table at lunch, and him finding any excuse to touch you.

in physics he kept his knee touched against yours, he would "drop" a pencil or whatever so he could hold your thigh using it to support himself while reaching for it. when he sat behind you in math, you would feel him touching your curls or your shoulder every now and then. when you would pass a paper back to him his fingers always reached out far enough to touch yours.

it was thursday afternoon on the walk home from school, safiya didn't come to school that day so it was just you and miles. "no because why did she say that like is that bitch really insane" you laughed. "shit is crazy for real" miles agreed, grabbing an arizona. you were currently in lenny's bodega heating up a beef patty - the last one how ironic, debriefing with miles about your day at school. "no fighting bout it this time?" lenny chuckled, ringing you guys up. "nah, he willingly agreed to share this time" you giggled.

you continued walking, both of you munching on your respective halves. you said something that made the both of you laugh and miles just stared at your smile, he wants that image stained in his brain. "alright, what. stressing me out with the staring" you joked, feeling a little awkward. "nothing" he laughed off before continuing. "will you let me take you out?" he asked you. all of a sudden you were nervous and looking around with a doofy grin on your face. "okayy. where?" you threw your trash in a nearby bin.

"it'd be a surprise. actually not really a surprise but on saturday, would you come?" he asked. "yeah i'll go on a date with you" you smiled. he pressed his lips together to hide the big smile that was growing on his face. he laughed out "okay alright, cool. i'll let you know the time" "okayy bye" you kissed him on the cheek and went up your block.

ʚɞ

it was friday night and you were rummaging through your closet for an outfit to wear. you groaned out a sigh and grabbed your phone opening miles' contact.

you pressed face time and waited for him to pick up. "yeah?" his prowler distorted voice answered. you looked at your phone to see him on what looks like to be a roof, prowler gear on. "oh shit sorry, didn't know you were doing your prowler stuff." you said, about to hang up. "nah it's fine, m'not busy right now" he told you, prowler voice turning off. "need something?" he asked you. "miles where are we goingg" you whined. "its a surprise, you can't handle surprises?" he chuckled. "i don't know how to dress for surprises. i don't know what to wear" you sighed. "you look good in everything, don't over think it."

"yeah well i wanna look good for you" you rolled your eyes. he scoffed "you literally always look so good, chiquita relax." suddenly there was a loud bang in the distance and he shot his head over his shoulder. "you'll figure it out. aight i gotta go" he said, prowler voice back on. he quickly hung up and you sighed, going to the kitchen to make a chicken wrap for dinner. this was a 3 am you problem.

ʚɞ

you got in the shower to shave, exfoliate, and scrub your body. getting out of the shower, you put on a face mask letting it set before you came back to do your skincare routine. you sat in your mirror to put product through your curls, deciding to let them down past your shoulders.

you finished your makeup and got dressed in the outfit you'd picked after a few hours of searching. you decided on a short strapless black dress and a gold chain belt that hung around your hips and chunky loafer heels. you decorated yourself with two layers of gold jewelry and your mom's earrings she'd given you.

you admired your look in the mirror before leaving to go in the living room. your dad looked over at you and furrowed his eyebrows "where you going all dressed up?" he asked, pausing his show. "i literally told you i was going out tonight" you scoffed, grabbing your purse. "with who?" he asked you. "miles.." you answered in a small voice. "that damn boy again?! y/n you're not-" daddy please, you literally already said yes. plus he's downstairs already. please please pleaseee" you begged, leaning over the chair in his face.

"ughh alright fine! but that location stays on all night and when i call, you answer. aight?" he bargained. "yayyy thank you daddy" you gave him a quick peck on the cheek before running to grab your purse and jacket. "okay i gotta go byeee" you ran out the door, and down the building stairs. you were about to open the door but miles was on the other side about to do the same thing. "oh hey. was gonna come and ask if you were still coming" he joked. "sorry, stuff with my dad" you smiled.

he took the time to really take you in. the way your curls perfectly framed your face, the way your gloss made your lips shine, the way your necklaces graced your collarbones, the way your dress hugged against your waist. "wow. you look amazing..you look like elegant and shit" he chuckled, feeling a little nervous. "here, they're for you" he smiled, handing you a bouquet of red roses. he reached out to hold your hand, leading you down the street. "ahh thank you" you didn't know what to say, compliments made you awkward.

"you look reall good too by the way" you checked him out. he wore a pair of grey pants with a black short sleeve top and jordans, black jacket over it. "tried my best to look as nice. i don't be dressing like that"he shrugged. "well you look very nice anyway" you squeezed his face.

"can you tell me where we're going now?" you asked him going down the metro stairs. "rockefeller" he answered with a smile. "to do what?" you furrowed your eyebrows. "skating" he answered leading you to a seat. "aw i haven't done that in so long. i used to go with my mom" you told him. "i know, safiya told me." he rubbed a thumb over your knuckles and only now did you realize neither of you had let go.

"you're such a sweetheart, i never would've guessed" you said. "what do you mean?" "i don't know. like i would've never thought we'd be going on a date. or that you would be so thoughtful" you shrugged. "i'm full of surprises, chiquita" he said with a smug look on his face. "yeah whatever" you giggled, resting your head on his shoulder.

you were still hand in hand walking to the entrance to purchase your tickets. “okay well now i feel overdressed” you sulked, taking off your heels. “nah you look good. don’t be afraid to show everybody else up” he got in his knee in front of you and helped you put your feet into the skates. thank goodness you wore socks. he looked up at you and the action felt so intimate while he gently placed your right foot in the skate.

soon after he put his skates on and put your bag and shoes in a locker. he took your hand again and helped you walk out on the rink. you were immediately losing your balance, throwing an arm around his shoulder to hold you steady. “aight i swear safiya told me you used to do this all the time.” he laughed. “only sometimes! and i never actually learned” you giggled.

unlike your clumsy and struggling to find balance movements, miles was smooth and moving with ease, hand on your waist to keep you up right. “how do you know how to skate” you asked him. “unlike you, i actually tried to learn” he joked.

for the majority of the time you stayed close the walls using them to move without making a fool of yourself. miles slowed down to match your pace, practically showing off how easy it came to him.

“alright come on” suddenly he was in front of you and grabbing your hands to pull you out in the middle. “alright wait wait wait wait” you frantically put your hands on his arms. “aye you need to learn chica. hold my hands and watch my feet” he told you. you followed his instructions as he pulled you along, yet yours remained unmoving.

he laughed “you know you gotta move yours too right. just copy how i’m moving mines but in the other direction”

he was in control but you followed his movements and eventually got the hang of it, enough to even move on your own. “atta girl, it ain’t even that hard” he smiled at you and you geeked at his praise. he grabbed your hand again and turned your body in a little twirl. which wound up with you falling into his chest nearly sending him to the ground. “aight so we not that far yet” he laughed. he looked at you before pressing a kiss on your lips.

you continued skating until your time slot was up and you got your things and left. “hungry?” he asked you. you nodded your head and responded with a small mhm before he led you down the street to a cozy restaurant.

you sat down and he ordered a plate of appetizers for you both. you talked the whole time throughout the meal, laughing your ass off. he excused himself for a moment and you kept your eyes on him watching as he found your waiter and told him something.

he came back after a minute and sat down and you guys got back to talking. after a few minutes your waiter came back with two plates, one with a raspberry brownie with fudge and one with strawberry caramel cheesecake - your favorite. he put the plates down and sent a wink to miles before walking away.

you looked down at the plate and it had the words ‘will you let me be your boyfriend?’ written in caramel drizzling. you gushed and bit your lip to hide the huge grin that spread across your face “ohh my god i thought you were literally never gonna ask” you giggled. “is that a yes?” “yes, it’s a yes” you smiled. he leaned over to the table to kiss you, hand placed on your cheek.

you finished your desserts and miles paid the bill before you left the restaurant. you practically couldn’t stay off each other on the walk to the subway station, you arms were wrapped around his and when you complained that your feet were hurting he leaned down so you could climb on his back.

you sat down on the train and he rest a hand on your thigh while you laid your head on his shoulder. “still got one more thing to show you. you down?” he asked. “yeah, for whatever”

you got off and he led you back to his graffiti site. “now how i’m supposed to climb that fence in these heels” you twisted your mouth to the side. he chuckled. “i’ll go over first throw them over the wall and i’ll hold them till you get over duh”

you followed his instructions and hopped the fence before leading you down. there was a wall, once blank now decorated with your face, detailed and big across the wall. you looked so beautiful through his eyes. he moved up next to you and took your hand in his. “ughh you are so..” you didn’t finish your sentence you just put your hands up to his face and brought your lips to his in a heartfelt kiss.

he wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you in closer. his other hand moved to push your curl out of your face and at the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. his hand slid down to your ass making your lips part slightly and his tongue slid in your mouth. the blaring sound of your ringtone made you jump and you sighed seeing it was your dad calling. “hey baby, you on your way home yet? it’s getting late, think you’d better come inside” he told you.

“okay i’ll see you” you answered, hanging up the phone. “it’s my dad, he wants me home” you sighed. “alright let’s go” he said.

you hopped the fence again making your way out of the station. “your feet still hurt?” he asked you. “a little bit” you answered. “well then hop on madame” he joked, leaning down so you could get back on his back.

you talked the whole way home, literally talking his ear off as your chin rest by his shoulder. “sorry if i’m talking too much” you said. “no it’s okay i like listening to you.” you smiled and buried your face in his shoulder, hiding the giddy expression on your face.

he got to your apartment building and gently put you back on the ground. “i’m really glad you asked to be my boyfriend.” you told him. “i’m really glad to be your boyfriend” he smiled. you held his face and pressed your lips against his before pulling away. “goodnight miles” you said. “good night, hermosa” he said back, easing away as you walked in your house.

taglist ౨ৎ

@prettypink-princesss @itsnotino @r3d0n33 @iluvprowlermiles @jmsanchoo @stevenknightmarc @melllinaa @444morales @noetophat @bigdikzaddy

[vidavalor]

The Devil in Disguise: Some theory-ish ideas on the night of the ball, The Metatron, and Crowley

The Metatron & Saraqael messed with Crowley's mind while he was in Heaven. He comes back unaware that he's missing at least 10 hours that the show spends a lot of time establishing and, more concerningly... he is suddenly incapable of seeing Heaven as an existential threat to Aziraphale.

TW for talk of assault, PTSD.

Good Omens begins talking about time in reference to the night of the ball earlier in the season with Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets in The Dirty Donkey scene. The writers set it up for us, all here's Mr. Brown-- he's going to set up this Whickber Street meeting for 6:30pm on Thursday evening after the shops close. You'll think the reason this is so specific is just a Mr. Brown's personality thing but then, as we get closer to it, at the top of 2.05, we're going to have about 30,000 scenes that do nothing but tell you, over and over and over again, what time this meeting ball starts. The entire purpose of this is for you to realize how much time passes through the night until the final act of 2.06... which we will then establish is happening in the 7am hour of Friday morning, some twelve hours after the meeting/ball began.

We go see Mr. Arnold and he helps us establish that today is Thursday and the meeting is tonight. Then, we visit Mrs. Cheng and she asks what time the meeting starts again, so Aziraphale will say "6:30" and confirm for us that he hasn't changed Mr. Brown's scheduled time. Then, Mutt originally can't go because he's taking his spouse to *dinner* for their anniversary-- this meeting is so early! reminds the scene. Then, Justine can come but she can only stay for a little while because the restaurant "picks up after 7pm." Then, Mrs. Sandwich arrives at the meeting and says basically the same thing as Justine did in the earlier scene-- that she can't stay long because her business is about to pick up. Then, Maggie is closing up her shop when Crowley is dispatched to get her. We now have every single major shopkeeper/trader in a separate scene, each of which reiterates how early this starts-- at 6:30pm on Thursday evening. When Nina gets to the ball, she adds an additional element: she's not fully under Aziraphale's spell so she comments on how everyone is speaking like they "just stepped out of 'Pride & Prejudice'," which is to say that everyone is speaking outside of time.

Nina is telling us that there's something wrong with relation to time but we know what that wrong thing is-- Aziraphale's Jane Austen ball spell. If you add it into the repeated references to time itself, though, you see it's another thing conveying a general feeling of something being way, way, way off about time on the night of the ball that the writers would like us to notice.

Why are we so obsessed with time on this night? What is the purpose of all of this?

To help you see that we are missing almost the entire night and that Crowley was in Heaven the entire time... and that there are some things that are really, really wrong with him when he comes back.

When we get into 2.06 and to the next morning, time is referenced again to help us see this. Crowley returns and it's surprisingly daylight, when it had been only a few hours past 6:30pm at best when he left for Heaven, right? In the morning, he takes Maggie & Nina outside to save them from Saraqael and both women comment on the time. We're talking about time again, as it's that important. Maggie says she's exhausted from being awake all night. Nina, crucially, says that her shop should have opened "a half an hour ago." Nina sells coffee so her shop likely opens at 6:30 or 7am, so it's 7 or 7:30am on Friday morning when the final act of 2.06 is happening.

That means that it's *at least* ten hours after Crowley went to Heaven but while he knows what time it is the next morning, he does not appear to know he's missing time. While Aziraphale is with The Metatron, Crowley will even look at his watch-- another reference to time passing-- and still not have this realization. The morning sun streams through the windows of the unclosed blinds, in a reverse parallel to 2.01, when Aziraphale closed the blinds after bringing Crowley into the bookshop, making it more comfortable for Crowley, who here seems to be aware that it's morning but unaffected by the bright sun; the show using the set and costumes to help illustrate this for us.

Because Crowley arrived with the angels and the group scene in the bookshop happened right after it, he and Aziraphale have not had a moment alone to speak yet. They actually won't get one before S2 is out because the bookshop is burned. In S1, it literally burned. In S2, it's burned, in the spy sense of the word-- everyone can get into it now so it's no longer a safe place to talk, which Crowley also seems to fail to fully recognize, which is partly because he fails to see Heaven as a danger to anyone but humanity, which we'll get to in a second. Aziraphale didn't say what he wanted to when Crowley first returned in the morning because he saw the angels, so he stops at "you came back", but he really has spent the entire prior night not knowing where Crowley was.

When The Metatron likely came on the Heavenly Zoom after Aziraphale stopped discorporating demons with it-- hinted at in Aziraphale and The Metatron's first interaction in the morning-- Aziraphale told The Metatron to go pound sand, which The Metatron figured he would. Not a lot of people want to spend more time with the leader of an organization that tried to kill them. We know Crowley isn't mentioned at this time because using Crowley as a tactic is new in the morning when Aziraphale talks with The Metatron at Marguerite's but Aziraphale told The Metatron he wouldn't go up to Heaven when they first spoke during the time we're missing. That much we already know.

So, Aziraphale then spent the night in a semi-panic because he might have started a war and he told The Metatron where he could stick it, which is kind of like trying to tell Putin you're quitting your job in the Russian Defense Ministry and could easily wind up with your ass tossed out a window but, most frightening to Aziraphale... Crowley hadn't come back.

Hours go by and no Crowley.

It's 1827 all over again. One minute, he's flirting with Crowley and the next minute, Crowley's gone from him in an instant. Crowley wouldn't do this willingly. They've talked about it. Crowley will tell him where he is now, all the time. He's working on not taking off when his PTSD is triggered. Aziraphale went to the spot he was taken in Edinburgh for the first time just the other day and called him from it to hear his voice and work on getting past it. Does Crowley still have to leave to some extent every damn day because he's not just living in the bookshop? Yes. Is even that a lot for Aziraphale at this point? Yes. Does Crowley know all of this? Yes. He makes it a point to tell Aziraphale that he'll get the humans out and then come back and that he won't leave Aziraphale on his own. Aziraphale believes him because he knows Crowley has no wish to hurt him and that is true. So, when Crowley doesn't come back all night, Aziraphale is panicked that something's happened to him.

He is correct that something has but neither of them ever get a moment to sort it out before S2 ends.

Look at the way Aziraphale reaches for Crowley when Crowley saves Maggie & Nina from Saraqael. He can't stop him because he doesn't want the shop lesbians turned into pillars of salt but he reaches for Crowley, like he just wants him to stay put for a moment, because this is exactly what happened ten hours or so ago now all over again-- Crowley left the bookshop to get the humans to safety and he didn't come back right away and Aziraphale was panic-stricken. He since hasn't even had a moment alone with him or the opportunity to ask him if he's alright.

This angel needs all these people out of his bookshop so he can find out what the fuck happened to Crowley all night. He still thinks, at this point, that if they can sort out these issues about the war and Gabriel, that this can happen and then everyone will go and he can be alone with Crowley. He can check on him and tell him what happened with The Metatron while he was gone and they can make a plan together, as opposed to the plan Aziraphale's had to make on his own. The Metatron has not yet appeared to change this, so Aziraphale is fine with Crowley sharing what he's found out about Gabriel and sorting everything out, in the hopes that then everyone will then leave them be for awhile.

When Crowley first arrived back in the bookshop and acted as if nothing was wrong, Aziraphale saw the angels behind him and he and Crowley aren't used to being open with one another in front of Heaven. They don't trust them. Gabriel, they've gotten used to but also Gabriel's proven himself kind of lovable, and he's one of them now. Michael, Uriel and Saraqael are not. So, Aziraphale didn't get into any of it with Crowley in that moment. He didn't say where were you? are you alright?, didn't hug him, etc.. The timing of all of this is by design on the part of The Metatron. If Crowley & Aziraphale don't have any time alone, they don't have any time to plan. If they don't have any time to make a plan, they're less trouble and easier to divide. That's why Crowley is sent back with the angels in tow.

Crowley's purpose in The Metatron's plan to get Aziraphale (and to destroy both of them, in the long run) is to unintentionally help The Metatron get Aziraphale to trust him. The way The Metatron does this is two-fold. The first bit is to have Crowley in Heaven and then send him back, (seemingly) fine, making Aziraphale think that if Crowley survived a trip to Heaven that they won't harm him in the future. The second bit is to send Crowley back with the information needed to solve the Gabriel mystery at the same time as Beez has been sent up to check on the results of the attack on the bookshop, which facilitates the revelation to Aziraphale of Ineffable Bureaucracy. The Metatron lets Gabe and Beez run off for exactly as long as it takes to get Aziraphale into the elevator-- all to make it look like Heaven has changed and provide Aziraphale with what he thinks is proof that he and Crowley would be allowed to be together in Heaven.

Note how Crowley says that what happened to Gabriel is that the angels want him back "so they can fire him" which, honestly, really already happened. Crowley watched the video we did but he doesn't remember it the way we do. He doesn't remember that The Metatron and Saraqael were trying to take Gabriel's memories and that Michael was complicit in it. These are all *extremely important* things that could have been shared with Aziraphale and the others but that Crowley seems to have forgotten that he saw.

Also note how The Metatron chooses not to appear in the bookshop until after Gabriel and the demons have left. By the time The Metatron appears, there's only Crowley (who is influenced by him) and angels who will do what he tells them to, and Aziraphale. Also note, though, that Gabriel gets his memories back... but doesn't seem to recall who now?

Super funny how Gabriel doesn't remember the angel that is important enough to have been at the big meetings-- and so, that he should have seen every few days for millennia lol-- and *that same angel* is the one who both has the canonical ability to take memories and is the one who recognized/is in league with The Metatron. Almost as if Gabriel got his memories back via Beez's fly and Saraqael instantly zapped his memory of them and of what happened to him so that he wouldn't be like hey, it's you guys... who totally obeyed The Metatron when he made me into a fallen angel and tried to take my memories from me. Aziraphale, don't trust these motherfuckers. They'll totally try to kill you and Crowley.

Almost as if Saraqael *is only there in the first place* to control Gabriel and Crowley's memories to facilitate what happens in the bookshop and keep it under control in the way that they and The Metatron want it to go. The Metatron, in all likelihood, is the one who cast all the demons to Hell, and Crowley is the only demon of the main group of them here who actually has memory issues so imagine what would have happened if The Metatron had rolled in when everyone was still there in the group scene. Gabriel would have been furious about what The Metatron did to him and said so... and Beez and the other demons would recognize The Metatron as the one who made them fall. Crowley would believe Beez, even if he couldn't remember it. Gabriel would go into Protector!Mode-- forget what The Metatron did to him, he's incensed over what he did to his love Beez and his new friend Crowley and, Gabriel supposes, those other demon guys over there, too lol. The demons start going from calling for Beez and Gabe's heads to joining up with them against The Metatron. Aziraphale would try to kill The Metatron if he knew all of that, forget getting into that elevator with him lol, so Ineffable Bureaucracy are allowed to escape-- for a little while, they're in a ton of danger after S2-- because that also helps The Metatron try to get Aziraphale to trust him, rather than starts a revolution. The Metatron only shows up after Dagon, Furfur and Shax leave, too, which further the suspicions that he's harmed them in the past and they wouldn't be too happy to see him.

So let's go back to what's wrong with Crowley...

Crowley, pre-trip to Heaven:

believes Beez about The Book of Life; growls at Gabriel that Aziraphale is "risking his entire existence" to help him and threatens him if anything happens to Aziraphale; not only remembers Heaven trying to kill them but brings it up to Gabriel in what is also a reminder of that to the audience; objected originally to Aziraphale taking care of Gabriel because of him trying to kill them and then has an anxiety attack over Gabriel in his house for basically most of the season; follows Aziraphale around Whickber Street after Shax starts sniffing around the bookshop; turns himself in to Muriel to work with Heaven as an informant without a second thought to protect Aziraphale, the bookshop, Maggie, Nina and Gabriel.

Crowley in Heaven:

promptly forgets the moment he gets off the elevator that his plan is that he is there to get the angels to protect the bookshop embassy, by appealing to their need to not be shown up by the demons; walks right by Michael & Uriel-- the archangels whose help he came up here to seek-- and continues to Muriel's office; becomes obsessed with finding out what happened to Gabriel; is spotted by Michael-- the smartest of the angels and the most suspicious, who is nominally in charge but for The Metatron-- and nothing comes of it, hinting that Michael might have been intercepted by The Metatron/Saraqael and roped into part of the plan (which also goes along with Michael and Uriel being sent with Crowley, Muriel and Saraqael back to the bookshop later on); is allowed into the files with permission from Saraqael, who is the only angel who recognizes The Metatron the next morning in the bookshop & is standing in for Sandalphon in some parts of the plot, according to Gaiman (Sandalphon & The Metatron are tight in Bible lore); Saraqael is the angel who was tasked with taking Gabriel's memories and they're the one Crowley is with most of his time in Heaven... the other angel being Muriel, whose own memories are suggested in a few scene to have been taken at some point; Crowley's memories issues are brought up again when he fails to recognize Saraqael; Crowley looks weirdly dazed while watching the Gabriel video; Saraqael is in league with The Metatron but both of them come off as the villains they are in the video they *want* Crowley to watch... but Crowley doesn't seem to remember that bit of what he saw afterwards; Crowley doesn't react to Saraqael trying to attack Gabriel after he finishes watching the video and, as we'll see, he doesn't seem to retain the same impression of the video that we do; Crowley tells Saraqael to come with him and Muriel back to the bookshop, despite having just watched a video in which they tried to take Gabriel's memories... meaning, that he fails to recognize Saraqael as a threat to himself, Gabriel and Aziraphale, and almost seems to tell Saraqael to come with him because Saraqael has influenced him to do so.

Crowley, post-trip to Heaven:

sits in a chair, listless, staring into space while Michael yells at Aziraphale that they will erase him from existence via The Book of Life (doesn't matter if this is real or if Michael can do it or not-- Crowley believed it was real pre-trip to Heaven and he'd protect Aziraphale from a piece of dust so why is he just sitting there); fails to tell Aziraphale that Gabriel is a fallen angel and that The Metatron ordered his identity stolen; fails to tell Aziraphale that Saraqael was trying to take Gabriel's memories on order of The Metatron before Gabriel outsmarted them while running to escape them and that Michael was complicit in all of it; recognizes that Heaven/Hell is toxic and a threat to *humanity*-- "when Heaven ends life on Earth, it'll just be as dead as if Hell ended it" and saving Maggie & Nina from Saraqael-- but fails to see that they are a threat to *Aziraphale*; goes a bit blank and stares at nothing, half-in/half-out of what is happening around him, when the conversation is about lost memories or The Book of Life; is staring into space at nothing on the floor when discussion is happening about lost memories-- Gabriel's-- until Aziraphale touches his arm... then, he looks up, still a little expressionless, and reacts to Ineffable Bureaucracy by offering them Alpha Centauri and talking about it in a way that makes it sound like an island he always meant to visit and not the option he always throws out to Aziraphale in a Defcon 1-level panic... Alpha Centauri isn't a trip to the Caymans to Crowley, it's this lol:

We can chitty chitty bang bang The Bentley to the stars, angel, I'm freaking out and out of ideas please send help!...meaning that, in the 2.06 group scene in the bookshop, he isn't telling Gabe and Beez to run, he's just offering them an idea of a place to go to if they're leaving... meaning, he fails to think they're in any danger and this is the same being who just watched a video last night in which The Metatron tried to attack Gabriel; and that's not even the worst of it... this is...

Go on. Day can't get any weirder... Crowley fails to see that Aziraphale does not want to go anywhere alone with The Metatron and is looking at him to come with them... instead, Crowley reacts like Aziraphale is asking if he'd mind if he goes and has a weird, unplanned coffee with his exhausting, bigoted dad and then he'll come back and spend the day with him; Crowley tells Aziraphale to go with The Metatron and just sits there in the damn chair while they walk out the door... this is *Crowley*, you guys. The same being that just spent a week trying to see if he could get Xanax to work for demons because of all the Heaven circling his bookshop safe space... the same being who got the heebie-jeebies over Shax and a bunch of junior demons at 6:30pm the night before... but now he's all no problem, honey, hope it goes well, I'll be here lounging in your chair, waiting for you to come back when *The Metatron* shows up and wants Aziraphale to go somewhere with him alone... This is also, of course, the moment that The Metatron gets the big villain music in the score-- right as he looks at Crowley, whom he's been monitoring like a hawk since he showed up; fails to recognize danger to Aziraphale so much that he just *stays in the bookshop* the whole time Aziraphale is with The Metatron-- doesn't follow them, even, or anything... he has no plans but for boozy breakfast (which is another indicator of him knowing that it's morning but not realizing he's missing time) and he completely believes that Aziraphale is in no danger at all and will return any moment, even as he gets anxious about how long it's taking; fails to mention the most obvious argument in the world for why Aziraphale shouldn't go to Heaven-- that they tried to murder them-- and so can never be trusted; fails again during the proposal to tell Aziraphale not to trust The Metatron because of what he just did to Gabriel on Monday and today is Friday morning and it's doubtful he just redeemed himself in a week lol... why did they have us see Crowley see the video but then *not* have him tell Aziraphale about it and ask that if that's what they were trying to do to Gabriel-- who had the political benefit of not being killed or sent directly to Hell because it would look like an institutional problem-- what does Aziraphale think that The Metatron would do to him, when he doesn't have any of the protections of Gabriel's old position?... this is *information that could save Aziraphale's life* and Crowley saw it with us but he doesn't seem to remember that he did because if he *did* remember that he did, he surely would tell Aziraphale because he loves Aziraphale and doesn't want anything to happen to him. He absolutely would have tried this argument if he remembered any of this from the video... but he also doesn't remember that Gabriel was already "fired" or that The Metatron and Saraqael and Michael are all a threat to Aziraphale... because he's been made to not remember that; finally, he never brings up something he believes in that he fears-- The Book of Life-- during the "no nightingales" conversation, even though it just came up when the angels were in the bookshop... but Crowley honestly might not even remember that it did, based on how out of it he was during that moment between Michael and Aziraphale.

Because Crowley can't recognize that he's missing time and that Heaven is an existential threat to Aziraphale and because Aziraphale feels like they can't talk alone without it being at least somewhat coded because the bookshop has been burned, they are each missing a huge part of what the other is trying to say and this results in the "no nightingales" disaster. Aziraphale knows he's in danger with The Metatron but Crowley's been programmed during the night to not recognize The Metatron, The Book of Life or Heaven in general as threats to Aziraphale. As a result, he can't understand that Aziraphale is trying to signal to him that he's made a plan and he needs Crowley to use their way of understanding each other and to follow his lead on it. Crowley, if he hadn't been harmed the night before, would have been able to see this and help Aziraphale. Aziraphale, for his part, fails to see that something's happened to Crowley and that's not terribly new for them, sadly, because so much has already happened to Crowley and Aziraphale is so sensitive to it that he doesn't think that Crowley's responses are the result of new trauma, just his already pre-existing trauma.

Even the prior night, Aziraphale downplayed Crowley's anxiety during the ball as just being his usual brand of anxiety amped up by the fact that they were trying something riskier and more public... until the brick got thrown through the window. He knows that Crowley has PTSD. One of the sweetest scenes in the series actually begins because of Aziraphale seeing Crowley slipping into a bit of PTSD fugue and pulling him out of it. Not uncoincidentally? It's from the other season finale. It's from the nightingales finale, as opposed to the no nightingales finale. It's this:

That scene actually begins with Crowley staring down at nothing in front of him, lost in thought, until Aziraphale gently brings him out of it and into the present moment. Because Crowley does this when they've been through an ordeal that's triggered things for him, Aziraphale is used to seeing it, so he doesn't recognize it in 2.06 as anything other than one of Crowley's default trauma responses. Because Crowley has only been influenced by The Metatron/Saraqael on specific things relating to threats to time and Aziraphale, he's otherwise alright and responding normally to other things, which fools Aziraphale into thinking that nothing happened to him... which is part of The Metatron's plan. He wants Aziraphale to think that Crowley is fine so that when they fail to communicate, he'll be so angry with/heartbroken over Crowley that he'll walk away from him and more easily get into the elevator.

Last time we saw a character on GO periodically sit in a chair this non-responsive, it was actually Gabriel occasionally fugue-ing out during his memory loss Jim era just an episode or so previously and Crowley's memory issues are paralleled with Gabriel's all season. Gabriel would space out when being overtaken by an outside force, which is what is kind of like what is happening with Crowley. Not possession like with Gabriel or God but his mind has been messed around with. Ironically, Crowley is the only one Aziraphale doesn't try to influence during the ball. While Aziraphale's actions during the ball are a whole other meta when it comes to just how fucked up all of that was, really... he left Crowley out of it. Part of it is that he doesn't have to love spell Crowley lol and that influencing him at all would have defeated the point of the ball in Aziraphale's mind but he also doesn't because he'd never do anything without Crowley's consent. He wouldn't anyway but he's extra-mindful of it because he knows Crowley has been through situations where his control over himself was taken from him and how that's affected him. Then, Crowley leaves the ball to help the humans and go to Heaven for help for Aziraphale and wound up kidnapped up there for 10 or so hours and suffering that same kind of non-consensual attack again.

Only other time Crowley is as periodically quiet and still, staring down at nothing and looking that forlorn, as he is in moments of 2.06? 1862. I'm not suggesting the exact same thing happened to him after 1827 when he was in Hell but I am suggesting the trauma response is the same and it's all over the bookshop scenes in 2.06 after he comes back from Heaven. He's literally standing like as tense and straight with his eyes lowered and speaking quietly as he did in 1862 in parts of 2.06, like before Aziraphale touches his arm when Gabriel and Beezlebub hold hands.

Crowley's had relevant memories taken by Saraqael and The Metatron to control him, so he spaces out when the conversation conflicts with what he's been influenced not to recognize as dangerous-- The Book of Life, the topic of lost memories/missing memories (he zones completely out of talk of Gabriel's lost memories once he gives everyone the means to figure it out)... most importantly, any moment that The Metatron and Saraqael and Michael and Heaven in general are threatening towards Aziraphale. He lets Michael threaten Aziraphale with non-existence. He lets Saraqael into the bookshop after knowing what they did to Gabriel because they've skewed what he thinks he saw on the video. He lets Aziraphale go with The Metatron without recognizing any danger to him at all.

This is intentional on the part of our villains here. They want to drive a wedge between them to get Aziraphale into the elevator. They've just influenced Crowley to not see them as a threat to Aziraphale but not much more than that so that he's otherwise normal-seeming in behavior. He remembers what happened at the ball enough that he snaps Mr. Brown back and asks what Aziraphale did to Shax. This is why The Metatron is watching Crowley like a hawk. He looks at him suspiciously when he retains enough control and empathy for humans-- sending Mr. Brown, Maggie and Nina to safety-- but he hears the women talk about time and realizes that Crowley doesn't respond, so the influence is working. He tests Crowley when he arrives to see if the influence is working in the what about you, demon? Do you know who I am? moment.

This is the reason why none of the other angels but for Saraqael recognize The Metatron, even if he doesn't look *that* different with a body. Saraqael messed with all of their minds to make it so that they don't for a few moments, specifically to give The Metatron an opportunity to test Crowley and be sure it's all still working.

(The saving Mr. Brown thing is especially heart-breaking because what do we learn about Mr. Brown's experience last night from what he says to Mutt? He can't remember where he was or what happened to him. It's a parallel to Crowley and another hint at it from the writers but is less horrifying because Mr. Brown's lack of memory might not be his choice but taking it from him was done out of empathy. PTSD-laden Crowley did that for him while under this influence. He made the call that Mr. Carpet didn't need to go through the trauma of remembering being attacked by the demons and snapped him into line for coffee-- symbolic freedom-- at Nina's, like it was another normal day for him. Meanwhile, Crowley can't remember what happened to himself last night for totally different reasons and doesn't even fully realize it yet.)

In S1, Aziraphale opens up the portal to Heaven and gets accidentally discorporated-- loses his body-- and the bookshop burns down. In S2, Aziraphale opens up the portal to Heaven, the bookshop is burnt as a safe house, and Crowley's mind is what is harmed by Heaven.

Because Crowley seems to be otherwise fine, Aziraphale doesn't think anything is more wrong than the usual amount of wrong and because The Metatron is breathing down their necks the whole time, Aziraphale never just says what happened to you last night? which would have changed everything because either it would have broken the hold they have over Crowley enough for him to remember that they have one or Aziraphale would have been standing there, horrified, as Crowley seemed confused by the idea that he was gone all night. Aziraphale doesn't ask because he knows something is wrong but everything is wrong at that moment and they can't get away from The Metatron enough to speak freely. Aziraphale is trying to convey a kind of plan (which seems to be 1941 and playing them for suckers) and begging Crowley to realize that he's terrified and trapped and needs him to help him but Crowley is incapable of fully recognizing that because he doesn't see Heaven as a threat to Aziraphale anymore, thanks to The Metatron. He just sees Heaven as a threat to their relationship and so starts to try to get Aziraphale to stay with him.

The worst part of this is that while it becomes a total fucking disaster in the bookshop, the very end of it is different. There's Crowley, staying by The Bentley, not leaving. It's not even that he wants Aziraphale to come to him instead of The Metatron so much as it's just him knowing he left the bookshop and he been working on not leaving. He wants Aziraphale to see he left the argument but not him. He doesn't know how this all works if Aziraphale goes to Heaven and he's still thinking of it in terms of 'if Aziraphale takes this job he's been offered by The Metatron' and not 'Aziraphale is about to be harmed by The Metatron' because of the influence... but he's not leaving. He promised Aziraphale he wouldn't leave him on his own, so he's sending a message that he won't. He just thinks that they're still going to have a relationship to work on because he thinks Aziraphale is about to become the Supreme Archangel of Heaven when, in reality, Aziraphale just walked into an elevator of death here. (He'll be fine in the long run. They'll bring him back. But I'm pretty sure nothing good is happening to Aziraphale in the short term.)

They eluded being forced into killing themselves in S1 by working together; they are separated and made to help one another's death in S2. Crowley influenced to watching helplessly as Aziraphale is taken from him is also, by design, an attempt at killing Crowley. They know he wouldn't want to live without Aziraphale. They're not as strong, not as much of a threat, apart as they are together.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale has no idea what just happened but it's a mess and it's one he's not sure he'll ever get to resolve because he just overheard The Metatron talking about The Second Coming and now he suspects he might not be safe but he also doesn't have a choice but to get into the elevator and he's doing it alone. He gets The Bentley to play Crowley "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" as an I love you and a response to Crowley saying "no nightingales" in the bookshop. It's a refusal to say they're done. There actually isn't an ineffable divorce. There's them each fucking it all up and then trying to apologize from across Whickber Street with The Metatron lurking around and they manage to but...

...what do you think happens when something happens to make Crowley realize what happened to him the night he spent in Heaven and what's wrong with him? He's going to feel like he killed Aziraphale. He's going to feel like he shot The Bullet Catch gun and didn't miss. Don't think The Metatron doesn't know it. Because what is Round Two? It's Crowley's "all of us versus all of them" from the end of S1. Why is Hell so understaffed in S2? Because most of the demons are getting into place for The Second Coming. It's Heaven and Hell (who still hate each other but are aligned) versus humanity. S2 has a focus on times Heaven and Hell have worked in tandem-- like with Job-- and then has them all in the bookshop at the end. It has Crowley bonding with Gabriel and Beez being kind to Aziraphale. It blends Heaven & Hell into the singular, corrupt system that it always has been and takes Crowley & Aziraphale's "our side" and starts adding to it. Beez and Gabriel are on their side now. Muriel and others will follow. But as they're doing all of this and as they're centering The Second Coming and The Metatron, you know whose presence was briefly mentioned but was otherwise suspiciously absent from S2?

Lucifer.

God made an appearance and not even just in flashback. It's God speaking through Gabriel earlier in the season, telling Crowley and Aziraphale to remember Job.

Where's Satan, though?

We've only noticed The Metatron, not that he and Satan are now, for awhile at least, on the same side, and Satan was not happy about S1. I don't think we should ignore the only references to Satan in S2--the quick lines they gave Shax and Dagon in the bookshop scene, wherein Shax said that they should give Gabriel and Beez to their master, Satan, and Dagon said that Satan wouldn't want them, except maybe "as hors d'oeurves." Ignoring for a moment how absolutely fucking horrifying a line that is on a show that codes sex as food this much, consider that Dagon just literally said that Lucifer/Satan would consider Gabe and Beez secondary-- just appetizers-- to a main course. Who is the main course?

Who else but Crowley & Aziraphale?

Do you really think that even if they held back on the Benedict Cumberbatch this round that Lucifer/Satan took the whole season off and had nothing to do with the end game of S2? The Lucifer/Satan who lost his antichrist kid in S1 and his armageddon in S1 because of Crowley and Aziraphale? The Lucifer who is very disturbingly obsessed with Crowley? The Lucifer who is now teamed up with Heaven for The Second Coming and so who might have actually been Upstairs himself when Crowley was the night of the ball-- or, at least, suggested what Saraqael and The Metatron did to Crowley? Because it's actually where we first saw this kind of thing in the plot, remember? Here are your instructions...

[postersofleon]

SEVEN

Leon had issues and you understood them. Tied in a world where he couldn't even trust his own government, where bioweapons are a common thing and mistrust is common. Breaking up with an alcoholic with the best option to have. However, when time passes, Chris decides to bring you to help with Leon's current crisis. When he sees you, he is ready to give endless promises now. Seven days to win you back.

notes: fem!reader x leon. leon is drunk, sad, angsty, and needy for reader, codependency relationship; chris is a sweetheart. he wants to help both leon and reader. I don't like this :( idk why. i ramble too much. EDIT! future chapters will have smut

tuesday: loving you

wednesday, thursday. friday, saturday, sunday

monday

taglist: @scarlettsbullsh

There was small, uncomfortable silence as you were driven to the small vacation place. Rebecca wore a small smile, but Chris could tell that you were uneasy. But you didn't want to give Chris a chance to even speak. What happened in China is still seen, not in complete detail, and not even the same overwhelming emotions. Yet it lingered.

Sure, everything is forgiven because everything has to during a mission, and even you have forgiven Leon. Yet you couldn't forget.

You loved Leon. With your entire body, but he wasn't the man you met back in 1999. Sure, the bitterness of Raccoon City seemed to always mask the smell of the alcohol. Then, being obligated to work for the government. This was stupid. You knew. You knew his issues. You knew why you broke up with him.

It's unfortunate. You were forced to love two different men. A man who wanted to help people and a man who wanted to get rid of the bad. Something in Spain began the trail, and two or so years formed the path. His disappointment of the government increased over and over, but why... why was he willing to point a gun to you and Chris to protect a woman who made their life's worse?-

You shook your head. No. No, don't be stupid.

Your hand began to tremble.

"Are you okay?" Rebecca asked. You simply nodded your head. Your fingers rubbed your gun hand, the knuckles, and soon your palm. A small scar in your hand interrupting the normal lines of your hand.

The car stopped.

When you look at the place... it was like going back to the old house that you once shared with Leon. Two unhealthy people trying to find peace. One found a bottle, and the other found denial. It was truly the saddest thing to remember, but the good things came rushing in. When you and Leon drank from his flask as you two laid on the bed naked. Alcohol made your bolder while Leon looser.

Walking through a couple of halls, Rebecca turned to see you and rubbed your arm, "He misses you." She promised. But you didn't need her promise when all your phone did was buzz over and over with messages belonging to Leon. Slowly and steady, you saw Leon. Nothing really changed from him. He still had his dark brown hair, which made it look worse with his grease. Your heart clenched.

"Leon," You couldn't control your mouth, "Leon..."

Leon turned to see who said his name. Your habits are trying to get better while his are getting worse. At least he wasn't drunk, drunk- he was better than the other days.

He walked towards you and hugged your body tightly. The overwhelming stench of alcohol burned your nose. All the old conversations you had of his issue bloomed again. Your hands trembled as you hugged him back. Leon kissed your neck over and over, dragging you away from Rebecca and Chris.

"I needed you. I'm sorry." Leon muttered softly.

Nothing changed. Nothing at all.

And that was the problem.

Your hands cupped his face, his small stubble of beard barely even growing into a proper beard. "How long?" You asked.

"Three days." Leon responded quickly. His blue eyes met yours, "I... I try." You even recalled the next words as you two reply together, "But sleeping is easier."

Leon turned away, his cheeks had splotches of red skin; he looked unwell. "Don't tell that... this has been every day." Your fingers traced his face lines. The ones in his cheeks, his brows when he furrowed them.

Leon sighed, "Yeah." He hugged you tightly. Little by little, he finally noticed Chris and Rebecca approaching them. He nuzzled his face between your breasts to use as cover. He was already going to start to be pissy. Your hands rubbed his back gently attempting to calm him down.

"I thought you didn't talk anymore." Chris grabbed himself a chair to sit on.

"We do. By text." You explained with a meek voice. Sure, you avoid his: "I want to fuck you so bad." Texts but not the simple hi's or when he comes to bother you.

But never these touches. Though, after dating for thirteen years, you were use to him.

Rebecca sighed softly, "C'mon," She smiled again, "Let's leave them to talk." Leon groaned weakly as he let you go. Rebecca and you left the room. You closed your eyes tightly.

Little by little tears escaped your eyes, "You... you see why we broke up?" You crotched down to your feet, feeling horrible like all those years ago. "A unhealthy relationship," Rebecca whispered softly. She crotched down beside you. "Rebecca, I still love him. I..." You cleaned away your tears. "No matter what I did helped, he didn't get better. I leave, and he is worst-"

"That's not your fault." Rebecca assured you from your codependency with Leon. The trauma of the two you made you stick against bad and good. You would've been with him still if it weren't for Chris.

-

Leon saw you be taken away from his arms. His hand itched to grab his flask once you were taken away. "Enough, Leon." Chris put his hand out, hoping Leon would put his metal flask in his hand.

Leon didn't so Chris yanked it from his hand.

"Leon, I swear," He put the flask on one of his many pockets, "Leon, I need you to listen."

Leon licked his molars, "I'm listening, Chris. Don't have to repeat it over and over." He leaned on his chair, his eyes kept glancing at the door where Rebecca took you away. Chris exhaled deeply, "A mission-" He began.

Leon groaned weakly, "I'm not going to a stupid mission. I'm on vacation." He grabbed the empty glass ready to pour more, but Chris stopped him again.

"A mission," Chris said more firmly, "Isn't a romantic getaway. It's a job. Our job." Chris made sure to keep eye contact. Leon smirked, "I'm with someone. Don't ask me out."

Chris fought the urge to roll his eyes, "Don't start-" He put his hands in front of him, "You and her shouldn't have been placed in missions so early." Chris wanted to be patient with Leon. "What you two suffered, back in Raccoon City. It was very irresponsible to make you feel you needed to save her."

Leon's face tighten. He could already smell Chris's bullshit, "Listen, I asked for her, nobody made me get her." Leon remembered the first time he saw you. You were one of the old military people of Umbrella and got send there among others who. You were like him. A rookie who was just wanted to help people, but the infected ruined your plans.

He wanted you. You understood the world like he did.

That's why you two needed to be together in every mission until two years came along. When you broke up with him, his life changed for the worst, but it didn't seem you two were actually broken up. He always told you where he was. He told you about nightmares.

"But you two ended up hurting yourselves. Jill and I never had this issue-"

Leon rolled his eyes, "I love her." He muttered softly. Every damn day, Leon saw your eyes as the gun was raised against Chris and you. Chris forgave him faster, but you...

Leon's eyes closed, "Every day I think of my bullshit," Leon opened his eyes and looked at his fingerless gloves, "I just want her back."

Chris exhaled deeply, "You need to stop drinking then." He sighed softly. This job made you an addict to whatever gave your comfort. For you and Leon, you two had each other, but Leon held his need to save people and alcohol.

It was fucked. It wasn't fair for either of you.

"She'll think forever that you prefer your dumb flask."

His throat nearly choked on his own spit, Leon's head hung low as a heavy sigh escaped his lips. He loved you so much it hurt. Little by little, tears escaped his eyes.

Slowly dripping down his face, Leon felt even more sick of himself. With his arms around your waist, you gave him a breath of fresh air- you gave him life.

[allicat0]

hi there! i absolutely loved ur other fan fic even tho i didn’t know the character. made my pussy throb. anywho 😊 just seeing if u are able to write a gojo x reader, perhaps him being older ( older brothers bsf, teacher, etc. ) i also would love to see some discreet public sexy time. ( classroom, movie theatre, pool… i love fucking hot tubs and pools…) thank you so much!😜✌️🎀

Our little secret

Ans: thank you so much for the support, and of course! I’m so excited to write my take on Gojo! Hope you like it!!

Summary: University au! You're working along side your thesis advisor Gojo in hopes to working closer to your ambitions for the future. But being a university student, costs are high and money is low. So to be able to keep up with your school you have a little gig on the side.

Content: MDNI, 18+, abaf reader, smut, forced proximity, dubcon, oral, penetrative sex, domination, degradation, praise, making out, rough sex, oral sex, penetrative sex, teacher/student relations, dominant Gojo, submissive reader

A/N: I apologize if not all of my historical information its 100% correct, I did do a little research for it to make as much sense as I could. I also apologize for any word vomited, grammar, or punctuation errors. I was up till 2am writing. but hope you enjoy!

You had been given the opportunity to have Satoru Gojo, head professor of the History department as your Thesis advisor. It was all still a little unreal to you, but you couldn't be more grateful. You have spent countless hours with one another, early mornings and late nights, doing your best to progress with your latest research proposal.  “The Villa of the Papyri” you said, placing your stack of papers down onto Gojos desk. “Now that surely is a pretty big project your-” He began to reply before you quickly cut him off “I understand it’s a lot, and that most of the contents inside got destroyed but there are over two thousand lost scrolls that reside inside that structure. There could be so many answers about the lost city of Herculaneum that those scrolls could contain!” Your look was genuine. . and so full of hope that he just couldn't say no. 

As weeks passed, you still had no leads. Weeks turned into, months, and months turned into a year, endlessly working alongside Gojo. Despite your research not flourishing as much as you had hoped, your relationship with your professor grew more than you expected. It didn’t feel like work, it was tolerable to be around eachother, it didn’t feel like he had some weird authority complex over you, you were comfortable, you couldn’t help but admit to yourself some feeling for your professor began to form and you wished nothing would come in between that. .until something did.

Being a university student, especially in the department you're in, funds are high and since you were usually busy researching all day, you had a hard time getting a stable job that worked around your harsh schedule. The school did pay you money to go through with this research but it was barely enough to buy you a loaf of bread and toilet paper. You needed money to survive and things were getting a little tight, so you thought working at your local club didn’t sound like a horrible idea. . as a dancer. 

Zafrio, is one of the more popular clubs in the area, but they worked well around your schedule, Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays every week. The pay was beautiful, every penny you made on that stage was yours to keep, on top of that you also got your bi-weekly pay which 10% of it went through tip - out to the servers, but you weren’t complaining. On average you made at least four hundred dollars a night, but on good days you would rack up closer to a thousand. 

Tonight was your Saturday shift, the busier one out of the three. As you were getting ready backstage a familiar face walked into the club, the club was packed full of people, he made his way through the crowd, brushing past people shoulder to shoulder, getting closer to the main stage. Now he didn’t come here often but when he did, it was every Saturday at eleven, to see you and only you perform. He used having a large crowd to his advantage as he was often hidden, so you seeing him was never a concern of his. How he found out about your little side job was not intentional, he just happened to stumble into the club with some of his friends one night, and there you were working. Gojo was beyond intrigued, so ever since that day he’d been coming to watch you perform, he didn’t know why he came back, but all he knew was that he started thinking of you in ways he’d never dare think of before. 

Your stage name gets called and there you are, walking out onto the stage over to the pole, beginning your number for the whole club. Cheers filled your ears, watching the money fall onto the stage, the serotonin that pumped through your body was unbelievable and he watched, every. Last. second. His eyes never leaving you or your body. The way your hips sway to the music, it was like he was in a trance. 

As you finish your number your eyes fall out to the crowd, adjusting from the bright stage lights shining up at you. You start to strut off and out the corner of your eye, you see. . no it couldn’t be. What was he doing here?? Your heart rate began to pick up. What was your professor doing here?! You quickly rushed the rest of the off stage. Did he just see you perform? Your mind was rushing at a million miles a second. 

You arrived backstage and looked in the mirror, your mind began to spiral and your heart picked up its pace, that was totally him, there was no denying it. “Is everything alright?” one of your fellow dancers came over to see if you were okay as they noticed you were panicking. “Yah.  .yah i'm fine” you said to put your clothes on and packed all your belongings. “Something came up and I really need to go, please let the boss know I’m sorry.” You knew all of the money you got from that dance would be taken care of by your boss, and were quick to leave, walking out to your car and heading home. 

Monday finally rolled around and you were on your way to Gojos' office to start work. If it were any other day you would be eager to get back to work after a weekend break, but today wasn’t any other day. The events of Saturday night still loomed in the back of your mind, you didn’t want to admit it but you were scared to face Gojo, how were you supposed to just act normal after that night?!

You opened the door to the office and plastered a smile onto your face and there he was sitting at his desk. “Good morning professor.” you said, making your way into the room, closing the door behind you. “Good morning, how was your weekend?” he asked, his eyebrow slightly arching with the question. You felt a lump form in your throat forcing it down before speaking. “Ah, it was quite relaxing,” you said trying to cut the conversation. “I'm surprised, you spend your weekends working do you not?” his head tilted ever so slightly, a smirk forming in the corner of his lips. He knew what he was doing and he knew you saw him that night. 

You froze in place for just a moment, “i'm not sure I know what you mean” Gojo looked at you right in your eyes, leaning forward so his elbows were resting on his knees. “I think you and I both know what I mean” your breath hitched, there was no going back, there was no avoiding this. You watched as Gojo sat up from his chair and made his way around his desk. Leaning against this chair and resting his ass against it he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Well. . am I wrong?” This was it, your career was over, there was no way you would be able to recover from something like this, you knew the risks and yet you still took the chance, now look where it got you. 

You could feel yourself trying to choke but in the coming years, you were trying your best to keep yourself together. “Now you know there's no reason to lie to me. .” Gojo pushed himself off the desk and made his way towards you, your eyes never leaving him. He walked behind you, leaving your sight, but you could feel him looming over you. “Professor look, moneys been low and.” his hot breath suddenly hit against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” His words were soft. 

Your shoulders tensed as he placed his hands on them “Is this okay? Can I touch you here?” Gojo let out softly once more, you simply nodded your head being speechless. His hands began travelling down stopping right at your hips. “You know. .I have a confession of my own. Ever since I found out about your secret endeavours. . I haven’t been able to stop going back. . I can’t stop thinking about you in ways I shouldn’t.” He choked out, Gojo was doing his absolute best to keep himself at bay. 

“Really?” you said, sounding surprised, his words were making your stomach flutter. As much as you wanted to deny this as wrong and unprofessional there was a recurring curious thought that wanted to find out more, what exactly was he thinking. “The thought drives me crazy” the hold he had on your hips gets tighter, but you move away from his grip, turning around to face him. His eyes were drawing you in like never before, you couldn’t describe it, but his gaze was full of pure lust. 

You bit down on your lips, you were unsure what to do, act professional or. . no what were you thinking! “Darling,” Gojo said, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hands coming up and cupping your face, his thumb trailing softly against your cheek. “Gojo I. .” You stood there speechless. “This is unprofessional.” You try to centre your thoughts “I think we’re long past that.” he said his hand never leaving your cheek. His face leaned down his lips inches from yours “if you want me to stop then tell me, I want you to be okay with this” you looked up at him through your lashes nodding your head ever so slightly. “Please. .don’t stop” you let out quietly just enough for him to hear you. 

Next thing you know you felt Gojo’s lips press against yours, lips moulding with one another. His kiss was delicate, but carried so much passion and lust behind every movement. Your mind continued to spiral at every given minute, but you didn’t want to stop, you wanted more. Gojo’s hands travelled down before taking your ass in his hands giving it a squeeze as he continued to kiss you. 

His tongue slipped past your lips and moved with yours, but it didn’t last long as he was quick to pull away to catch a breath. His head moved to your neck planting firm kisses against your neck as his hands made their way up your shirt, cupping your breast in the process massaging them as he continued to place his markings down your neck. “You’re fucking gorgeous” his voice was breathy, against your skin.

Gojo guided you over to his desk, turning you around to your back facing him. His hands lingered at the hem of your pants, thinking for a moment before he pulled both your pants and underwear down revealing your slick pussy. Gojo went down onto his knees to get a better view, his hand trailing up and down pushing in between your folds, slowly sticking his middle and ring finger deep into your pussy, causing a moan to escape your lips. “What if someone hears us?” you asked nervously. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of you slowly watching how your pussy swallowed his fingers “let them” he said. 

The speed of his fingers began to pick up the pace causing soft moans to escape through the seam of your lips. Gojo pulled his fingers out of you, spreading your legs open enough to lodge his head in between your thighs, dragging his tongue against your pussy. As you lay there leaning over his desk, gasping for breath, Gojo tasted every inch of you, savouring the sweetness of your flesh, he knew exactly where to touch, how to caress, driving you further into the realm of ecstasy. Your hips would involuntarily push back into him as he lapped his tongue over your clit, exploring every curve and crevice, bringing you to the edge of climax. It was almost painful, the anticipation and desire building within you, but you wouldn't trade this exquisite torture for anything else. 

As you were nearing release Gojo pulled away standing up, quickly unbuckling his pants to unveil his already hard twitching cock eager to pound into you. He held the base of his cock, dragging the tip in between your wet folds, before slowly pushing himself into you, causing a groan to escape from the back of his throat. His hands grabbing onto your hips, he began to slowly move his hips watching your pussy swallow his cock. “You feel so fucking good” he said as he began to pick up the pace. Your hand moved up to your mouth blocking out the moans leaving your lips, doing your very best to stay quiet enough so others wouldn’t hear your lewd sounds. Gojo’s thrusts became rough, his hand releasing your hip entangling his fingers through your hair tugging on it as he pounded into you. “You’re such a good girl, taking me so well”. 

As Gojo continued to thrust deep into you, you felt yourself coming closer to the edge once again, the knot building up in your stomach from him constantly hitting your G-spot. Your free hand moved down in between your legs and moved rapidly against your clit. “ you gonna cum on my cock baby?” He asked you, smirking down at you, how he enjoyed the sight. You let out a moan as your legs do their best to hold themselves up through your orgasm, Gojo was close, you could feel his cock pulsating inside of you. His thrust was becoming sloppy and out of rhythm. With a few more thrusts he quickly pulled out of you, his hot cum hitting against your back “fuck” he said out of breath looking down at the mess he made, but god it was fucking hot.

His body pressed up against your own, planting a soft kiss against your shoulder. Moving the hair away from your neck and planting them slowly against your neck as well, he let out a light groan, the vibration of his hot breath against your skin made you shiver. “Let's get you cleaned up baby” Gojo said, going back to his cocky smug voice once again. “Oh and. .lets keep this our little secret alright?”

@allicat0 signing off. .

[thatbuddie]

wip wednesday

i was tagged by @sibylsleaves. i haven't actually written anything this week yet but i am hoping that sharing something from the fake ex husbands fic will motivate me to finish chapter 3 of it. so here you go, an excerpt from the next chapter:

“If you and Buck were together, do I think you guys would last as a couple?” Hen asks. Her words are just a rephrase of Eddie’s own question, but they feel more important, heavier when coming from someone else’s mouth.  These words feel life-changing simply because Eddie knows that Hen understands the word that is hiding behind them, the confession that is lying underneath them. Eddie isn’t saying anything -in part because the word gay still feels like a fire threatening to burn his tongue, in part because he feels there will be a better moment to finally speak it out loud for the first time- but he has, in a way, said everything there is to say.  The way Hen is looking at him confirms it.  Eddie nods, his bottom lip still caught between his teeth, his arms lowering the mug to the table so he can place it down and cross his eyes in front of his chest. For a fraction of a second, Eddie feels more secure, protected. Then, just as fast, it’s as if he’s been trapped in a cage of his own doing, a cage so small that he can’t even move an inch. He uncrosses his arms, resting them on the table as he leans forwards slightly.  “Yeah,” he says, not clarifying further because he doesn’t need to.  A second of silence passes by as Eddie holds Hen’s haze in his. The station is motionless around them but Eddie swears he can almost feel its heartbeat, the proof of its aliveness, more than ever.  “I think,” Hen starts saying, separating her hands from each other so she can move her arms forward and circle Eddie’s wrists with her fingers, “That you and Buck love each other so much that there is nothing you guys couldn’t get through.” 

wednesday is over in many parts of the world but this is me tagging people in tidbit thursday, fuck it friday, share saturday, or whatever they want to do!!! @capseycartwright @doeeyeseddie @hattalove @clusterbuck

@bibuddie @trippedandfell @rewritetheending @transboybuckley