#the office x pride and prejudice

[nymphpens]

Mr. Darcy

[firawren]

Pride and Prejudice Chapter 60: Elizabeth and Darcy talk about their love and are just generally adorable

View the full series of P&P chapter memes here

[reiderwriter]

Hating You Is The Easiest Thing I Can Do

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When your boss pulls your case out from under you and gives it right to the BAU, you're pissed. You're even more pissed when Doctor Spencer Reid suggests you can't do your job properly. After a week in his company, you decide to give him a piece of your mind

Warnings: Day One of Kinktober - Hate Sex, enemies to lovers, dom/sub, Mean!Dom!Spencer, Brat!Reader, spanking, degradation, spanking, spit kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, slight creampie, Reader's boss is an asshole, typical office misogyny. Spencer is also an asshole, but that's just because he's a dumbass.

A/N: Special thank you to @reidmotif and @mrs-dr-reid for proofreading this one for me! I wrote this when on a major Pride and Prejudice moment, which is why there's a whole lot of plot before the sex. I hope you like the build-up just as much as the smut! <3 If you like it, don't forget to leave a like, reply, or reblog and tell me your thoughts! ((just as a reminder, apart for Sundays and Tuesdays, I'll be posting all the kinktober fics on AO3 exclusively, so check out my writing there - reiderwriter))

My requests are also back open now, so if you like my writing and have an idea, check out my request guidelines and drop me a message in my inbox! You can find the rest of my masterlist here :)

To say you were angry was an understatement. You were seething, the anger bubbling up inside of you and threatening to lash out at anyone who so much as crossed your path as you made your way down the crappy motel corridor. You'd only known Spencer Reid a week, but you could think of no one you despised more.

The FBI had always been a boys' club, you knew that. There were some goddamn strong women in your field office, of course, but you were outnumbered 10 to 1. Which was why you were so determined to do well on the first case assigned to you as lead Agent. The first week of the case, you'd made sure you were thorough. A body had been found in the park by a jogger, and you darted to the crime scene the moment you got the call. A woman in her early twenties, like you, had been raped, tortured, and then dumped here, her body posed in a demeaning way to make it seem as if she were performing a sexual act. Your entire body shuddered at the sight, but you couldn't let your coworkers see you weak so you powered through. Collecting evidence, getting an ID on the victim, interviewing potential witnesses, and yes, even breaking the news to the poor girl's family, you had been so attentive to every detail of the case and you felt you were making progress, your boss delivered a humbling blow.

"Another body has been discovered. I've invited the Behavioural Analysis Unit in from Quantico because you're in over your head." He'd told you, not even looking up at you from the file he was reading on his desk.

"What? I wasn't told about another body, why wasn't I notified?"

"I didn't think you needed to know, now that the BAU is coming in."

"So I'm off the case? That's it?"

"No, I want you to assist them in their investigation. Tell them everything you've gathered so far, get them situated in the office as best you can."

"Get them coffee when they want it? Rub their feet if they ask for it? This is bullshit, I was making progress, if you'd only have given me more time-"

"Agent, I suggest you walk out of this office right now and get your PMSing under control before I have to suspend you from fieldwork." You pressed your nails further into the beds on your palms then and bit back your tongue from replying, simply giving a terse nod and exiting the office.

It wasn't even an hour later before the new team arrived, and you offered a tense smile and welcome as you got them set up in their own office. The Unit Chief didn't seem too bad, but Aaron Hotchner couldn't exactly be described as the most welcoming of people, and you felt an instant camaraderie with JJ, the other agent who'd come into the office with him. There were more agents apparently, but they'd gone out into the field to check out the new victim and reinterview the family, something you weren't exactly happy about. But, if you were going to be their little bitch for the next week, you were at least thankful they were tolerable and polite.

"So here's everything I've got so far. I've been pretty thorough in my interrogations of potential witnesses, and there are no CCTV cameras in the general vicinity of the dump sites, so I don't think you'll find anything else there that'll aid in your profile."

" If you'd have been thorough you'd have found this though, right?" A new voice popped up from the door, and you felt yourself tense up under the sudden accusation. Looking up you saw he was holding up his phone, a picture of a strange marking on a tree lighting up the screen.

"Excuse me?"

"This was left on a tree roughly thirty feet from the first dump site. I called Rossi and Morgan and they found a similar marking near the second victim. It's a Mesopotamian symbol relating to the worship of prostitutes and sex workers to promote fertility." He spoke plainly, but all you could hear was the condescension in his tone, and your blood boiled with rage.

" Agent Y/L/N, I'm sorry about him, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, he's another member of our team." JJ introduced the man, sending him a warning glance, as if letting him know that he hadn't just put his foot in his mouth directly.

You looked at the man then, really focusing on him now instead of the pictures, and almost cursed out loud again. He was a jerk, but fuck was he attractive. Tousled hair, dark eyes, and a perfectly sculpted jaw, it was as if he were sent from hell directly to piss you off and tempt you. You pushed the attraction aside for the minute then, choosing to be the bigger person and introduce yourself.

"I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N. And I'm sorry that I'm not an expert on Mesopotamian prostitutes, but I guess that's probably your specialty, right, Doctor?" You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just looked down at it.

"If you're referring to my doctorate, I actually didn't study classic civilizations. I hold PhDs in Math, Chemistry, and Engineering and additional BAs in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology. And I don't do handshakes." He glanced straight past you after that, walking back over to Hotch and filling him in on other things you must've overlooked during your brief time working the case.

You glared at his back, finally letting your hand drop to your side again as you let out an angry chuckle.

"Don't take it personally, Spencer is just… He’s He's not great with people. He'll warm up to you." JJ put a reassuring arm on your shoulder and you nodded. But inside you knew there was not one thing the man could do to reverse the bad opinion of him you'd just gained.

–X–

After the initial anger of having the case seeped out from beneath you wore off, you actually began enjoying your time with the BAU. You hadn't put much thought into profiling before, it usually being so far off your radar while you were working in the field office but you were actually coming to enjoy how they worked, and you'd learned a lot.

Your relationship with Spencer, however, only degraded.

Your hatred had reignited the moment you'd been joined by the rest of the BAU Team. Your boss has finally come down to greet them, and, almost as if making you pay for your earlier comments, had genuinely sent you on a coffee run for them. You could deal with the fact that the man had the most annoyingly complicated coffee order you'd ever heard of in the Bureau, but what you couldn't forgive were the sly comments you walked in on when you returned.

"Come on, Reid. That Agent is easy on the eyes, you should talk to her, get you a slice of that." You'd been introduced to Derek Morgan earlier and you'd instantly pegged him as a flirt, so this wasn't exactly shocking to you. What was a bit surprising was the other man's reply.

"If she's attractive I hadn't noticed. I've been too busy trying to clear up her mess with this case."

You walked in the door then, coffees in hand, and slammed his drink down on the table for him. You handed Morgan to him, double-checking that you'd got both of their orders right before shooting another glare at the man and walking away to find the rest of the team.

But not before hearing Morgan chastise Reid in another whisper: "God man, you gotta be nicer to the kid…"

To say that your working relationship had soured totally after your two personal encounters with the man was simply an untruth. You didn't have a working relationship, you had a working rivalry.

From then on, you'd slyly interrupt the man when he was speaking, telling him to cut his genius rambles in half, that you didn't have all day to sit around and wait for him to stutter his way through his theory while there was a murderer on the loose.

He didn't hold back either, constantly asking you questions he knew you didn't know the answers to, just to smile slyly down at you and make you admit that you weren't as good as him. It was getting so detrimental to the office atmosphere that you had to be genuinely separated after only three days, Hotchner bringing you into the field with him on multiple occasions and forcing Reid to stay behind with JJ to work on a geographical profile.

You'd been with Hotchner at a family interview, working with him to gain details of the second victim's actions and whereabouts leading up to her murder to establish a timeline when you got a call.

Excusing yourself from the room, you quickly picked up the call.

"This is Agent Y/L/N."

"Hotch isn't picking up his phone." That was all the explanation you got from the man on the other side of the phone, his voice instantly grating.

"Yes, I'd assume he isn't, Doctor Reid, because we are currently interviewing a bereaved mother and father and he put his phone on silent. Is there something you need?"

"I need to talk to Hotch."

"Well, you called me. What do you need?" You heard him breathe out a frustrated sigh on the other side of the line, and you rolled your eyes, slightly enjoying being this stubborn and getting under his skin.

"Just tell him we're ready to give the profile, okay?" He hung on you after that and you cursed him down the line, receiving nothing back but the empty beeps of the dial tone.

–X–

It didn't take long after delivering the profile to get your guy, but as he hadn't been in the middle of committing any felonies when you picked him up, you'd had to spend a few days in the interrogation rooms.

Hotch had taken a crack at him and gotten nowhere, and so had Rossi and Emily and Morgan. JJ had been the one to make the arrest, so she went in last and still came out with nothing much. He hadn't layered up yet, as they'd suspected he wouldn't, too egotistical to allow anyone else into the room that he thought he was going to talk himself out of.

"We're getting nowhere with this, Hotch. I think I have an idea that could get him to start talking." Reid said as you all stared at the man through the one-way glass.

"What, you think you can charge in there and get him to talk?" It was petty, but it'd been a stressful week, and he was used to this flow of conversation between the two of you.

"No, you are. Hotch, she fits his type, she's attractive, same build and coloring as the previous two victims. I think it'd work." You scoffed at his suggestion.

"Oh so now you think I'm attractive? I thought you hadn't noticed because you were, what, too busy cleaning up my mess?" You crossed your arms as he gave you an incredulous look, and you realized that he didn't think you'd heard him.

"Spencer's right, Y/N." Hotch nodded, looking between the two of you to see if he needed to pull you apart to keep you from fighting or to keep you from jumping each other. You personally weren't sure which you'd like most at that point, cursing yourself as you let your eyes trail down his body.

"It's going to excite him having you so close, you should pop a few of those buttons, too," Reid suggested looking down at your chest as you scoffed and crossed your arms.

"Oh you'd really like that," you mumbled under your breath, but a swift look from Hotch had you shutting your mouth again as he began to brief you.

Going in you felt a surge of pettiness seep through you. You were going to nail this guy, get him to talk about every little nasty thing he did to those girls, and prove to your boss that you could do this when every member of the BAU had tried and failed. But a small, dim, and annoying reminder at the back of your head whispered in your ear that you'd be pleasing Spencer then as well. Proving him right. You weren't sure if you wanted to succeed to hear him or your boss say "good job" to you after you finally succeeded, but when you imagined it with him, he was a whole lot closer, right in your ear, body pressed against yours.

You focused on your anger over your attraction and pushed into the room, ready to stare down a monster and escape unharmed.

–X–

It had worked, of course. It had taken a few hours of building rapport but you'd done it. You'd had him eating out the palm of your hand while he confessed to the three murders you knew about and an extra four that you didn't.

A day of retrieving bodies later and by 10 pm, the case was finally closed.

"Well done, kid, you really got him in that interview. That was some great work." Morgan nudged your elbow as he grabbed his duffle, exiting the makeshift office.

"Don't forget we're getting drinks at the cocktail bar in half an hour. Shower off that mud and change into a hot dress, Agent, and I'll buy you your first shot." Emily called back to you from the exit too, leaving you in a fit of giggles as you promised her you would.

Once they'd all gone, you started packing up your things ready to leave yourself when there was another knock at the door.

" Hey, I need to grab my bag." Reid stood in the door awkwardly, and your smile dropped into a politely neutral face as you nodded to him.

"Don't let me stop you, Doc."

"Spencer."He said, stepping a bit closer to you.

"What?"

"I want you to call me Spencer. You keep calling me Doctor or Doc, I want you to call me Spencer."

"No. Doctor Reid is just fine for me."

"And what if I want more?" He grabbed your wrist as you turned to go, using a bit too much force and leaving you stumbling into him, hitting his chest as you looked up at him, your noses almost touching with the proximity.

"Let me go," you growled, but his grip loosened and you didn't move an inch.

"What if I want more?" He asked again, a little more insistent this time, his eyes dark in the dim room, expression unreadable.

"Why should I care what you want, Doctor Reid?"

"Because I think you want it, too. Because I think that despite all the odds, you want me just as much as I want you."

Your anger burst out of you in a sarcastic laugh then at his presumptuous words.

"Despite all the odds? What odds are those Spencer? You treat me like shit, ignoring me, refusing to even shake my hand, and downplaying the hard fucking work I put in before you got here? God, you are so fucking narcissistic." You finally stepped away from him then, turning away to regain your composure.

"Me? I'm not the one who missed some vital fucking evidence in a murder investigation, Y/N, so I'm sorry I wasn't the most welcoming person, but God if we're talking egos, you should probably check yourself."

"Forget it, you're impossible. I really tried to be nice to you, but more fool me for making messes you had to clean up."

"Are you still stuck on that? Y/N, I'm sorry, but Derek just has a way of-" He stepped closer to you again and you could feel the oxygen being sucked from your lungs.

"Don't you dare blame this on Morgan. You're attracted to me and you fucking despise that, and it's none of Morgan’s fault. Now please, just get out of this fucking office and go back to your motel room." You practically hissed those last words at him, holding back the urge to scream in frustration. Your lips were so close now, as his chest heaved, hands clenched by his sides as he resisted the urge to grab you.

"Forgive me… for suggesting something so obviously repulsive to you." With that, he brushed past you and walked out, leaving you reeling at his almost confession, head light from the lack of air. He'd taken your breath with him as he left the room.

–X–

The promise of free shots had convinced you to get back out to the bar as promised, not letting Reid and his fickle moods control when and where you'd be enjoying yourself.

You finally showed up at the bar and were greeted by hugs from JJ and Emily, already one drink in as they immediately handed you a shot from the bar. Guiding you back to the table, you paused as you saw him there.

Morgan was sat at the table, happily chatting away with Reid, who'd since grown quiet, eyes meeting yours before leaving to rake down your frame. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, confidently standing tall as he devoured you with his eyes. Changing out of your work clothes, you'd decided that you needed some fun tonight, donning a short red dress, barely hitting the tops of your thighs, hugging your curves tightly, and pushing your chest up so it nearly spilled out completely. You'd completed the look with thigh-high black boots and a red lip, looking the absolute image of lust - or anger - personified.

"Whew mama, you look good, Y/N." Morgan greeted you, standing up to give you a kiss on the cheek. Reid still said nothing but kept his eyes trained on you as he took another sip of his drink.

"I was promised shots and dancing, I think I'm dressed pretty appropriately don't you think?" You smiled and giggled up at Morgan, letting your touch linger on him a little longer to see if it would spur Reid into action.

"Have I ever told you about my very good friend Penelope Garcia? I think you two would get along just fine."

The rest of the night continued in a similar vein. You'd stepped out onto the dance floor with Emily and JJ, letting whatever man wanted to sidle up close, begging one of them to be a distraction from the man whose eyes were boring into you from the other side of the room. It didn't work. Their hands were on your hips, guiding you to the sound of the music but in your head, all you saw was him, doing the same.

It didn't help that he was getting hit on constantly from his perch beside Morgan, and you watched with a bitter feeling at the bottom of your stomach as women tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to pay attention to them. After another frustrating invitation for a tryst with a local man, you excused yourself from the dance floor, finding Morgan in the bar, letting him know that you were calling it a night.

"Where's Reid?" You asked, trying and failing to sound casual as you glanced around the now crowded bar for signs of him.

"He left like ten minutes ago. Said he was tired and went back to the motel."

"Was he…" You didn't want to finish the question, not knowing which answer you'd prefer, but Morgan filled in the gaps himself with a wide grin.

"Alone? Yes, kid. Here, it's the address of the motel we're staying at and his room number." You hesitated before grabbing the paper and grabbing your stuff, practically running from the bar and hopping in the nearest taxi.

–X–

That's how you found yourself stomping down the corridor of the motel, pounding on his door at 1 a.m., unashamed in your brazen actions. He opened the door, slightly shocked to see you there, and you pushed your way inside and turned on him as you shut the door.

"What the fuck was all of that?" You demanded as soon as he turned back to you. His shirt was open now, jacket and tie discarded on the floor somewhere deeper into the room, but you forced yourself to look up into his eyes, away from the pale plains of his skin.

"What was what, Y/N?"

"You, staring at me like that the whole night and then just leaving."

"Did you want me to stay?"

"I want you to stop answering my questions with questions, Reid. This is bullshit, you can't act like a dick to me all week and then look at me like I'm a piece of meat you want to rip apart, for fucks sake."

"You made it very clear earlier tonight that you wanted no part of this, Y/N. Are you saying I should've done something else?"

"That's another fucking question, Spencer! If you don't start actually talking to me, I swear to god, I'll-" You ran a hand through your hair, and when you looked up again, he was closer than ever. You backed up into the wall, but he followed you, pressing a leg between your own. Slowly and with that condescending grin plastered across his face, he drawled out his next words.

"You'll what?"

Your lips crashed against his with the fury of your frustrations, a mess of teeth and tongue and biting anger as you surged forward into him.

With a rough push of your hips, he slammed you back into the wall, taking charge of the situation, coaxing his tongue into your mouth, battling you for control, and winning. Grabbing you by the neck he slowly pulled his lips away from yours, leaving you gasping for breath.

"Don't be such a brat, Y/N. When I ask you questions, it's because I want answers." You moaned as you tried to regain his lips, but he chuckled and kept you pinned.

"Tell me, baby, what should I have done earlier instead? Got down on my knees to beg your forgiveness, or thrown you over that desk and used you like a cheap little whore? I think I know which one you prefer."

You moaned at his words, but kept your mouth twisted in a grimace, choosing not to answer. He got tired of waiting, and, with a swiftness you didn't know he possessed, twisted you around so your hands were planted against the wall, your chest pushing against it too as he pulled your hips up and out, effectively baring your pantie-clad pussy to him as your dress pushed up and over your ass all by itself.

"So fucking slutty. You let all those men in that club touch you while you stared at me the entire time." He ran his hands across your ass massaging you underneath your underwear before pulling his hands away again and grabbing your hips. He pushed his clothed cock against you from behind and you moaned at how hard and big he felt already.

"Was this what you wanted, brat?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"I think you'd much prefer it if I fucked you, don't you think?" He turned you around again, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around him, the new angle pressing your core further into his cock.

"Open your mouth, now." Against your better judgment, your body reacted to him quickly, your tongue dropping out of your mouth as he ground his cock into your core, effectively dry-humping you. With a swift motion, he spat in your mouth, your eyes going wide as you instinctively shut your mouth and swallowed.

"Good girl," he stroked your hair, lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. His lips locked with yours as you tasted his spit on your lips, letting him take control and move you in any way he pleased.

"But you've been a brat," he said pulling away. "And brats need to be punished."

With that he forced you over his knee, pulling your panties down as he positioned your hips higher, your ass raised. He fisted one hand into your hair and began softly stroking your ass with the other.

"You're going to count for me, baby. If you lose count, we'll start again. With each number, I'll tell you what you did wrong, okay?"

"Fuck, yes, yes sir." With another soft touch, he pulled his hand up and bought it back again down sharply, letting it cup your ass as you hissed from the sting.

"O-One."

"That was for being a brat in the office. Being so confident you missed some vital evidence that was staring you right in the face."

He did it again, and you squirmed under his touch.

"Two."

"That was for teasing me in front of Hotch. Making me get hard right there in the office before you went to interrogate that creep."

"That made you hard?" You gasped out as he cracked out another slap to your ass. "Three."

"That was for talking. You need to stop fucking talking." He stroked your ass again, delivering a fourth, fifth, and sixth blow in quick succession as you felt yourself leak your arousal all over his lap.

"That was for dressing like a little whore tonight. That was for flirting with Morgan. That was for letting another man touch you. What do you have to say for yourself now, brat?" Your breaths stuttered out of you as you tried to compose yourself, confident that he'd finished your punishment now.

"G-Go…. FuckFuck yourself." He growled and threw you back on the bed, ripping your dress off over your head and letting his lips return to yours as he trailed his hand to between your legs, finally pushing two fingers inside of you as you moaned and writhed beneath him.

" I hate you," you moaned in his ear as his lips trailed down to your breasts.

"You have a funny way of showing it." Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, so close you could practically taste it. He sensed it as well, though, and pulled his fingers out of you before you could reach that bliss.

"You thought it would be that easy, brat?" he whispered in your ear with a low chuckle before flipping you over to your front and thrusting his fingers back into you from behind, causing another moan to rip from your throat, uncontrollably loud in the otherwise silence of the motel at night.

Unzipping his pants and freeing his cock, you felt the weight of it on your ass as he rubbed his precum against your now bright red asscheeks.

"You're going to look so pretty with my cum decorating your ass baby. It's going to make your ass feel better, too."

"You're disgusting," you spit at him, but your hips push harder into his dick, trying desperately to capture him inside of you and force him to use you.

"No more talking, bitch. Take my fingers." He pushed a hand into your mouth and you started twirling your tongue around them, using your distraction to finally violently thrust his dick all the way inside you. You screamed at the sudden filling, cumming around his cock in an instant, trying to milk him for all he was worth. But he clamped a hand down over your mouth so that all that fell from your face was escaped tears and muffled pleas for more.

"Gonna use you like this baby, gonna make you admit you love me."

His thrusts gained a steady pace as your brain emptied beneath him, desperate for more of the pleasure his body was supplying you with. He released your mouth then, content that all your energy seemed to be spent on pushing your ass back into his, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds of your activity.

"Do you like that, brat? You like me making you feel like this, huh?" He slapped your ass again as he thrust, and you moaned back with a nod.

"Yes, Spencer, don't stop… Don't stop." You moaned again, another orgasm rolling over your body, causing you to clench unconsciously around his cock.

"So good baby, you're responding so well to my cock." He trailed a hand underneath you to your clit and started rubbing it in time to his thrusts.

"One more for me. One more and I'll pull out, okay? Just one more."

"I can't, Spencer I can't do it.." You whined underneath him, face fully buried in the motel pillows. You were surprised he even heard you through the tears as the material.

"Yes you can, baby, look you're so close already, just do one more."

"I hate you," you moaned again, feeling your third and final orgasm wash over you, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body started twitching and didn't stop. You felt a small twitch from him too, as he finished thrusting inside of you, letting a little bit of his cum escape into you before pulling out and decorating your ass with his ejaculation.

He fell by the side of you and gasped desperately for a few minutes, before grabbing a hot wet towel from the bathroom and cleaning your ass off.

"Spencer…" you croak out eventually, regaining some clarity, but still not moving much from your spot in his bed.

"Spencer, I don't hate you."

"I know. I don't hate you either. Which is probably for the best."

"What? Why?"

"Hotch just requested your transfer to the Quantico Office so you could start training with the BAU. You did a good job this week, Y/N." Your eyes started watering again and you gently pushed away tears as he laughed at you, asking why you were crying.

"I'm not happy," you joked.

"I just realized that means I have to work with you more." You both laughed at that. You didn't hate each other exactly, but that didn't mean you could work together well either.

And you didn't want to if this was the outcome of your bickering and hatred.

[avis-writeshq]

carriage six – spencer reid

summary: Spencer Reid prides himself in his routine. Wake up at half-past six. Leave his apartment at a quarter past seven. Get onto the seven thirty train. Arrive at Quantico at eight forty five. He has a plentiful of reasons as to why he does it; it’s efficient, it gets him to the office early, it works. But the biggest reason is the girl that always sits in the seat a few rows across from him, headphones on and always reading a book. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, rated G for mutual pining and second hand embarrassment. no use of (Y/N).

warnings: fluff, boy band spencer reid (caution, hot!). i tried to write in Spencer’s pov, and with that comes a lot of rambling. i like to think that his mind is running 100 miles an hour, so i tried to write in a style that could implicate that &lt;3

wc: 1.8k

part two: platform ten

Spencer tries not to look so excited when he enters the subway, clad in light grey slacks, a lavender dress shirt, a brown and purple argyle sweater vest and a mauve coloured tie. His signature leather bag is strapped across his chest and he has a light cardigan in his hand; the weather reports said it would be cold today. His head spins with the statistics on the accuracy of meteorology, considering the bright and sunny skies that blessed the citizens of D.C that morning. He’s donning a new haircut today as well. It was a lot shorter than he originally planned to get it, but he likes it. In fact, he likes it a lot, particularly the way it drapes across his forehead and the way it looks messy but still cool. That’s how he would describe it. Cool. He feels cool.

He hasn’t been able to get onto the subway for three days because of a case in Connecticut and his mind wanders. Will there be another case soon? How long would it take? He hopes it would be a local case. He feels guilty thinking that; he shouldn’t be hoping for a case at all. After all, that would only mean someone else has met their untimely death. He shakes his head to dismiss the thoughts. 

He steps onto the train, onto the sixth carriage, and sits on his usual seat. In his mind, it’s the perfect seat. It avoids the sun so he doesn’t need to squint and he doesn’t have to turn the brightness level of his phone all the way up. It’s right next to the door in case he needs to make a quick exit. It’s right next to a handicapped seat, meaning that people tended to avoid it. But the best thing about this seat was the view.

He cringes when he thinks of it. ‘View’ sounds gross. Perverted. ‘View’ is the wrong word to describe it. His favourite thing about this particular seat is the company. Yes, he likes the company, although it technically doesn’t exactly count as company. 

His gaze shifts to his company. Exactly four rows away, her eyes trained on the book in her hands. He recognises it to be ‘Pride and Prejudice’, the limited edition rose gold copy that was released eight months, three weeks and two days ago. He has the same copy sitting on his dresser. 

She looks different today. Granted, it had been three days since he last saw her. He scans her figure to try to place his finger on the difference and he realises. She’s wearing a new lipgloss. Spencer’s cheeks burn when he realises. Why on earth— no, how on earth is he able to tell? He feels himself cringe and he shifts his gaze and scans the rest of carriage in an attempt to busy himself and his mind, but his eyes ultimately fall back on his company.

Spencer can’t seem to take his eyes off of her. What’s she listening to? Where is she up to in her book? Does she like Austen? Has she read any other books by her? What does she think of Elizabeth and Darcy’s relationship? So many questions enter his mind and he wishes he had the guts to go over and strike up a conversation. But he’s not like Morgan. He doesn’t have that type of charisma or that type of confidence. If anything, he supposes, he’s self aware. He knows that the moment he starts a conversation, he would start rambling for twenty minutes about the relationship dynamics between the characters and why Austen was so incandescent and exceeded all beliefs as a writer in her world. He’d start to bring in authors like Virginia Woolf and why her admiration towards Jane Austen was warranted. Ultimately, Spencer thinks to himself as his eyes wander back to the girl, he’d scare her off.

He watches as she falters in her movements, her fingers pausing from flipping the page and Spencer frowns. From what he could tell, she was a little bit more than halfway through the book. Maybe up to page 260? But there’s nothing remotely difficult in that part of the book. If anything, that was the most simple and straightforward section of the entire text. And then he realises. His cheeks burn once more and he quickly busies himself with his phone, biting his lip and avoiding her amused gaze. Your amused gaze.

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you meet his gaze. You’ve seen him all the time, for the past three years in fact, when you first moved to D.C. He’s cute, really cute, and he’s even cuter when he looks like a deer caught in headlights. You raise a teasing eyebrow his way and you watch as he quickly avoids your gaze, looking into his phone. You can’t the soft laugh that leaves your lips, your fingers tracing against the pages of your book. Maybe you have a little more confidence in yourself than you thought.

***

The next day, Spencer feels a small sense of dread creeping into his heart. He feels embarrassed, so goddamn embarrassed, and he wonders how he could face you. His cheeks are burning and he tugs at his collar. He’s wearing a light blue shirt with a patterned purple tie, along with dark navy coloured pants. He teeters on his feet, waiting with anticipation for the train. The moment he enters the carriage, his eyes fall to the seat you would be seated at, only to see no one at all. He can’t help but frown, a little disappointed but a little relieved. He moves to his usual seat, and lo and behold, he sees you there, one leg crossed over the other and reading a different book. 

He mutters a soft apology as he slides into the seat next to you, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Wuthering Heights,” he says, surprising himself.

He watches as you look up from your pages, a small smile on your face. You’re wearing the same lip gloss as yesterday.

“Yeah.” You smile, taking your headphones off and letting them rest around your neck. “You’ve… have you read it before?”

He nods, and he curses himself for looking so eager. “Yes! Um, yes, I’ve read it. It’s really good.”

“Brönte is brilliant,” You respond, sliding a bookmark in between the pages. “I finished Pride and Prejudice last night. Jane Austen is still my favourite.”

You’re baiting him. He knows that. He takes it.

“I saw,” He says quietly, biting his lip. “Not– not in like a stalker way! I just… I just noticed you reading it on the train. Yesterday. I, um, I saw you reading it yesterday.”

He wants to kick himself. His face is flushed and he’s sure that his neck is just as red as his face. His ears are hot and his head spins when he hears you laugh.

“It’s okay. I saw you too.” You offer a smile, your own cheeks warm. “You were reading Edgar Allen Poe a few weeks ago. Is he any good?”

His eyes light up and he tucks an invisible strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a habit of his, since he’s had longer hair almost all of his life. 

“He’s very good,” Spencer insists, pulling the little book out of his satchel. “His works range from short stories to poetry, his most famous works being The Tell-Tale Heart, and Annabel Lee. The former is a short story. It’s a little grim, but he writes in an incredibly eloquent way that presents the narrator’s descent into madness, despite the point of the text being to convince the reader that he isn’t mad. Annabel Lee is a poem about a man obsessed with a woman named Annabel Lee and-“

He purses his lips, realising how much he’s spoken. He coughs into his fist, setting his book down in his lap as he quickly glances at you. 

“…and what?” You prompt, your head tilting the side in curiosity. “Go on, don’t let me stop you. You’re convincing me to actually get the book on his collection of works.”

His head practically snaps to look at you, a look of surprise on his face. He scans your face for any insincerity, from your eyes all the way down to your lips, before clearing his throat. 

“Um… well, uh, in Annabel Lee, the narrator speaks about keeping her in a castle by the sea. It’s a classic case of isolation and some literature analysts even go as far as to say that the narrator was hoping that Annabel would fall in love with him through Stockholm Syndrome but died before the narrator was able to carry out his plan.”

You take in his words, nodding along to his explanation. “You seem to be an expert yourself.”

He laughs, running his fingers through his hair. “No, I uh, I’m not an expert on literature or anything. But I am a doctor.”

“A doctor?” Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Like… a medical doctor or…? No offence, but you really don’t look like a medical doctor.”

He laughs again, nodding. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not. I have PhD’s in chemistry, mathematics and physics, as well as BAs in psychology, sociology and philosophy.”

You let out a low whistle. “You a collector or something?”

He blushes, swallowing thickly. “No, I uh… no…?”

“You don’t sound too sure of yourself doctor…” You pause, realising that you really don’t know much about this man. You look up at him expectantly. 

“Reid,” He says quickly, clearing his throat. “Spencer Reid. You, um, you don’t have to call me doctor.”

“Alright then, Spencer.” You smile, and he thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. You introduce yourself and he tells you that you have a pretty name. 

Time passes, and the conversation continues. You could talk for hours with Spencer; about books, movies, anything. He can make anything sound interesting, it’s one of his charms. He smiles a boyish grin as he talks, gesticulating wildly as he rants about his favourite texts and why Austen is a genius. He asks you what you’re listening to and you almost scream at the thought of introducing him to Taylor Swift. 

Before long, the train lurches to a stop at his station and he can’t help but feel a little disappointed. 

“It was nice meeting you. Officially,” He adds, gripping the strap of his leather bag. 

“It was nice to officially meet you too,” You respond, smiling up at him as he gets up from his seat. “Tomorrow?”

His eyes practically light up. “Tomorrow.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

part two: platform ten

[wttcsms]

WAIT DON'T CLOSE IT YET!!!!! the 'love story told in untraditional format' prompt and DABI??? mm.

would like to meet, touya todoroki ;

pairing touya 'dabi' todoroki x f!reader word count 1.9k synopsis the dregs of society run rampant on hinge, and everyone knows you're not going to meet The One on there. but you know the saying... love does come when you least expect it. alternatively: catching feelings through the hinge dms. content contains one reference to jumping off a building, some sexual jokes author's notes OK not necessarily a love story, but there are feelings in involved, i swear. this is supposed to be fun & silly!!!!

You nearly throw your phone across the room. Download Hinge, your friends encouraged you. It’ll be fun! 

You frown at Shigaraki’s ever-so-eloquent opening line of I’d blow yo back out. Yeah, you can see why this app was designed to be deleted. The fucking dregs of society are crawling all over this thing. Just one nice, well-adjusted individual. That’s all you’re asking for! 

Apparently, any decent guy is either taken or not on Hinge. You debate throwing in the towel and just meeting someone organically, like, out in public, exactly as the good lord intended, but right before you do, your phone vibrates.

New Notification!

Hinge | Dabi liked your image!

Hinge | Dabi sent you a chat!

It’s a Friday night, and you know for a fact that there is not a single sane man on this app, especially at this hour. Considering the fact that you’re sitting in bed right now, about to rewatch Pride & Prejudice for the sixth time this week, what else do you have to lose? Dignity? You open the app.

Apr 22 10: 24 PM

Dabi: You’re hot, what’s wrong with you

You: ?? 

Dabi: You’re too hot to be single and on here. What’s your deal 

You: you’re on here too? 🤨

Dabi: Would you say I’m too hot to the point where it’s suspicious I’m on here

You: i’m not here to give you an ego boost

Dabi: Then what’s the point of being on here

You: so you just get on here for free compliments?

Dabi: Maybe I have premium. Maybe I pay for these compliments 

You: yeah, you look like the type to pay for hinge premium ngl 

Dabi: Bye I’m going to talk to girls that are easier to manipulate 

You: please do 🙏 

Apr 23 1:21 PM

Dabi: Did you miss me

Apr 23 3:15 PM

You: so much

Apr 23 4:47 PM

Dabi: How much

Apr 23 6:01 PM

You: i was going to jump off a bridge if u didn’t text me 

Apr 23 8:01 PM

Dabi: Damn that’s crazy

Dabi: How I don’t care 

Apr 23 10:15 PM

You: don’t you have anyone else to bother

Dabi: I want to bother you though 

You: you probably scared off every girl you’ve ever come in contact with 

Dabi: True

Dabi: Except for you because you’re stupid

You: you pay for hinge premium, there’s an idiot in this conversation but it’s def not me

Dabi: I was joking 

Dabi: I don’t have money like that

You: i can tell

You: you probably take girls out for coffee as a first date, and then make them venmo u their half of the bill

Dabi: Nah

Dabi: I make her pay the full amount

You: i’m not surprised

Dabi: That was a joke too

Dabi: I never take girls out 

You: thank God

You: you’d probably be every girl’s worst date story

Dabi: Want to test that theory out 

You: no thanks, i don’t feel like being content material for some crime podcast 

Dabi: Smart girl

Apr 24 12:13 PM

Dabi: Wyd

You: at the police station, filing a restraining order on you 

Dabi: Damn 

Dabi: You want to be the one to put me in cuffs

You: the officer here actually has pink cuffs, i know some guys find that emasculating but you seem like you wouldn’t mind

Dabi: I love pink actually 

Dabi: I’m so down

You: i think you’re my dream guy

You: more like my sleep paralysis demon, but same difference 

Dabi: Aw you think of me when you sleep

Dabi: You’re that obsessed already

You: stfu 

Dabi: Don’t feel bad 

Dabi: I’m a munch fr

Dabi: I need u

You: what you need is to be put on some medication 

Dabi: Yeah you’re my medication

You: you need to be psychologically evaluated 

You: r u a social experiment 

Dabi: Stop flirting with me 

You: you’re so childish

Dabi: Am I bothering you

Dabi: Do I elicit strong emotions 

You: you don’t look like someone who knows the word elicit 

Dabi: I’m in grad school

You: wow

You: this is the first time you’ve left me genuinely speechless 

Apr 24 3:55 PM

Dabi: Yo when’s ur bday 

Dabi: Do you have any siblings 

You: are u gonna ask for my mother’s maiden name too 

Dabi: Yeah actually 

Dabi: Give me your ssn while you’re at it

You: ur a creep, ur lucky ur cute

Dabi: Wow, you can’t have deep convos with anyone any more without being accused of trying to get answers to their security questions

You: tell me something abt you first

Dabi: My dad sucks

You: yeah you look like you would have daddy issues

Dabi: Lmao

Dabi: I’m being fr though

You: yeah, a lot of dads do suck. what abt the rest of ur family?

Dabi: I haven’t seen them in years

You: oh

You: do they suck too?

Dabi: Nah

Dabi: I moved out as soon as I could 

You: your dad was that bad?

Dabi: The worst

You: are you trying to get pity pussy rn???? don’t tug on my heartstrings if it’s all just a lie

Dabi: Damn wtf

Dabi: But also depends. Do u wanna give me some pity pussy rn

You: bye i thought we were actually having a serious moment 

Dabi: I wasn’t lying. Swear

Dabi: Now tell me something too

You: im an attention seeker. that’s why im on here

Apr 25 1:56 PM

Dabi: Did u miss me not giving u attention

Apr 25 3:56 PM

You: sorry, i was having really crazy sex waiting for u to come back

Dabi: Fire

Dabi: You deserve it

Dabi: Me next?

You: only if you promise to tell me u love me before the post nut clarity hits

Dabi: I love manipulating women during sex

Dabi: Anything for u 

You: you say that but someone else is in my dms telling me that i can be his housewife and raise our kids and never work a day in my life again so pls top that offer 

Dabi: DAMN

Dabi: I bet he’s boring 

You: he’s not boring, we’re actually getting married and gonna have a big family

Dabi: Well clearly the fact that ur talking about him to me shows that u aren’t interested in him 

You: i’m telling u abt him so u have something to aspire to

Dabi: Damn you should date him then 

You: that’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said 

Apr 26 7:00 AM

Dabi: I hate you

Dabi: Wyd today

You: pls mind ur own business 

Dabi: Smd

Dabi: Tell me or I block you

Apr 26 8:19 AM

Dabi: U suck

You: and swallow

Dabi: No you don’t

Dabi: You probably spit it out

Apr 27 9:34 AM

You: true but in my defense, you look like you would produce something that tastes like toxic waste

Dabi: Were u deadass ignoring me 

You: don’t be so needy, dabi. it’s not a good look

Dabi: Sorry that was a moment weakness 

Dabi: So what now

Dabi: Is this when u give me ur insta

You: i don’t have any social media

Dabi: Nah you’re a catfish

You: maybe

Apr 27 1:34 PM

Dabi: Wyd

You: you’re a true wyd warrior, do u realize that

You: i’m currently getting my back blown out by a dude who posted his headshot as one of his hinge pics. i am not even faking my moans.

Dabi: Stfu 😂

Dabi: Do u even know what sex is

Dabi: Name one position 

You: easy, missionary 

Dabi: Well you’re on your phone so obviously the sex you’re having isn’t that good 

You: im just a good multitasker 

Dabi: tell me if ur shit is grippy

You: hold on, let me ask him

Dabi: Whats his name

Dabi: Whats he saying

You: don’t worry abt his name

You: he told me im gripping him so tight, it’s like i’m trying to take his blood pressure rn

Dabi: LMAO 

Dabi: That means ur not attracted to him

You: wow, a guy who knows that tight doesn’t equal aroused, i’m genuinely impressed w you 

You: and for the record, i would never actually fuck a guy who posts a professional headshot as one of his pics on hinge 

Dabi: Oh now you tell me

Dabi: Guess I have to cancel the appointment I just made to get a headshot done 

Apr 28 6:20 AM

Dabi: Im leaving Okinawa to go back to work. I’m sad, cheer me up

You: just commit a crime so they won’t let you leave

You: also i think maybe u need a psych eval or smth bc why are u still talking to me 🤨

Dabi: Nah tbh you’re the most interesting person on here

Dabi: I’m gonna go to tokyo and commit a crime on u 

You: yea, u not being in my guts rn should be a crime

Dabi: Chill my dick isn’t big enough for that 😂 

You: i want you to seek professional help

Dabi: I want u to seek these nuts in ur mouth

You: when should i ghost you

Dabi: Whenever u want bae you can ghost me anytime 

Apr 28 7:26 AM

Dabi: REPLY

You: u literally told me i could ghost u anytime WHAT IS UR DEAL

Dabi: Damn ok well when you do at least say goodbye

You: when i do, i’m reporting ur hinge account in the hopes that u get banned and have to resort to meeting women irl

You: i’m actually reporting ur account rn

Dabi: Good idea

Dabi: I’ll report u too 

Dabi: Before you get banned from hinge, can I have your number

You: no

You: i don’t give my number out to random ass strangers online

You: and ‘dabi’ is a weird name to have saved in my contacts

Dabi: Touya

Dabi: That’s my real name

You: oh

You: who the hell uses a fake name on a dating app??? 😭

Dabi: Stranger danger is real

Dabi: If I take you out on a date will you give me your number

You: a REAL date???

Dabi: Yeah I’m actually a gentleman in case you couldn’t tell

You: i don’t know how i could’ve missed that fact.

Dabi: I’m being fr though

Dabi: Dinner reservations and everything

You: are you paying the entire bill 🤨

Dabi: Why wouldn’t I

You: hmmm

You: every sex joke i made was definitely just a joke though, pls don’t get any crazy ideas

Dabi: Obviously you were joking, I’m not an idiot

You: you’re not gonna try to hit on the first date?

Dabi: If it’ll make you more comfortable, I’ll tape a 10 ft pole to my chest so I can’t get anywhere near you

You: cute

Dabi: Dinner tomorrow?

You: yes, dinner tomorrow 

Dabi: And if I do well, I get your number?

You: hmmm

You: i guess

Dabi: Fuck yeah

Dabi: I’m tired of texting you through hinge 

You: you only get it IF you do well

Dabi: I’m gonna rock your shit 

Dabi: Romantically 

You: sure you will

Apr 30 12:01 AM

Are you sure you want to delete the Hinge app?

Yes | No

You selected Yes! Reason for deletion?

[ ] No new matches

[ ] App is difficult to work with

[ ] Found another app to use

[ X ] I met someone

[edenesth]

Pride and Prejudice

Pairing: superior!Hongjoong x fem!reader

AU: office au

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: Kim Hongjoong, the intimidating superior with an unreasonable prejudice against you, holds a grudge that seems endless. What happens when your paths collide in an unexpectedly heartwarming late-night encounter in the office?

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble but I got slightly carried away, so here, we have this short little oneshot. Inspired by the photos of our captain in Paris.

ATEEZ Masterlist

Kim Hongjoong.

That was a name that sent shivers down most employees' spines.

In the bustling world of corporate offices, he was known as the intimidating superior that everyone dreaded.

From the moment you set foot in the company, you felt the weight of his prejudice against you. He had a stereotype against pretty girls, believing that you had only secured your position due to what he dubbed as "pretty privilege."

Despite his initial disdain for you, you had been determined to prove your worth. Days turned into weeks, and your hard work began to speak for itself. Your colleagues recognised your dedication and praised your quality of work.

But Hongjoong's pride remained an impenetrable barrier, preventing him from acknowledging your skills and contributions. Because of that, he's been out to get you for as long as you can remember.

Little did you know, things were about to change real soon.

One evening, after the office had emptied out, you found yourself still at your desk, engrossed in a challenging project.

It was then that Hongjoong, against his usual routine, returned to the office for some last-minute work. Surprised to see you there, he observed you from a distance.

He watched as you tirelessly poured over spreadsheets, crafted reports, and revised presentations. It was clear that your commitment went beyond any perceived privilege. Slowly, a realisation dawned upon him, shattering the preconceived notions that had clouded his judgement.

Too immersed in your work to notice him, you typed away, the soft glow of your computer screen casting a dim light on your face.

Hongjoong couldn't help but feel a growing sense of guilt.

He noticed the countless cups of coffee scattered across your desk, each one bearing the telltale signs of late nights and long hours. There was also a half-finished packet of cream crackers, a meagre attempt at sustenance in the midst of your dedication.

His initial irritation at finding you still at the office slowly gave way to concern. It was well past dinner time, and he wondered if you'd even had a proper meal that day. Clearing his throat, he approached your desk, his footsteps light but purposeful.

"You're still here?" He asked in a voice that was almost a whisper, the surprise of your presence evident in his tone.

Your head snapped up at his unexpected appearance, and you shot up from your seat, a reflexive gesture of politeness ingrained in you, "Yes, Mr. Kim," You replied with a polite bow, "Just finishing up some work. What are you doing here?"

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking to the scattered coffee cups and the packet of crackers before meeting your gaze, "I had something I forgot to finish earlier," He confessed, his voice carrying a newfound vulnerability, "So, I came back to the office to settle it."

You nodded slowly, understanding the pressures of your demanding workplace all too well. Returning to your work, you couldn't help but notice the genuine concern in his expression. It was a stark contrast to the disdain and prejudice you had once faced from him.

Then, in a moment that would forever change your professional relationship, he spoke up once more, his words laced with an unexpected humility.

"I didn't realise how hard you work."

Surprised by his admission and the softness in his voice, you looked up again, a flicker of hope in your eyes. With a faint but sincere smile, you replied, "I've been trying to show you all along."

It was a turning point, a moment when the barriers between you and your superior began to crumble, replaced by a newfound understanding.

The awkward silence that hung in the air between you and Hongjoong felt palpable, a reminder of the distance that had separated you for so long. You decided to break the tension by resuming your work, murmuring, "I'll get back to this then."

He simply nodded in response, his eyes fixed on his own office room, but he didn't leave. Instead, he stood there, silently wrestling with his thoughts. He desperately wanted to ask if you had eaten, knowing full well that the late hour meant that a proper meal was long overdue.

However, his pride, which had been a formidable barrier between you two, still held sway over him.

Inwardly frustrated with himself, he cursed under his breath and forced himself to remember why he had returned to the office in the first place. With a reluctant sigh, he reminded himself of the unfinished work waiting for him in his office. Pushing past his internal turmoil, he turned on his heel and headed toward his workspace, determined to distract himself with the tasks at hand.

As he retreated to his office, the lingering sense of guilt and a newfound respect for your dedication continued to gnaw at him.

It was a moment of reckoning, and he wondered if breaking down the remaining walls of pride and prejudice was the path he needed to take to foster a more harmonious working relationship with you.

Hours passed, and the office had grown eerily quiet as midnight approached.

Hongjoong, convinced that you would have left by now, finally decided to call it a night. He stretched, shut down his computer, and began packing his things. But as he made his way towards the exit, he glanced over at your desk and was surprised to find you still there, diligently working away.

His surprise grew when he saw you reach for another packet of crackers, your stomach protesting loudly with a growl. The sight of your dedication and the audibility of your hunger pangs finally broke through the last remnants of his pride and hesitation.

He couldn't let you continue like this.

In a bold move that shocked both you and himself, he approached your desk and swiftly snatched the packet of crackers from your hands, "That's it," He declared, determination in his voice, "I'm taking you to have a proper meal."

You gasped, your wide eyes locked onto his, completely taken aback by his sudden change in demeanour. Without giving you a choice, he tugged you up from your chair, and you reached for your handbag, thinking you might need to pay for your own meal.

Shock and disbelief coursed through your veins as you followed him towards the 24-hour convenience store just downstairs from the office. He surprised you once again.

"Go on, pick whatever you want to eat. It's on me."

The realisation that your once-intimidating superior was genuinely concerned about your well-being left you in a state of utter astonishment.

You carefully selected a light meal, trying to be polite since Hongjoong was footing the bill. But he sighed in frustration when he noticed your restraint, and he swiftly grabbed a few more side dishes, silencing your protests with a stern glare.

Once he had paid, you found yourselves settled at a table and chairs in a quiet corner of the store.

You began, "Thank you for the meal, Mr. Kim."

He nodded in acknowledgement but seemed lost in thought. After a moment of contemplation, he finally spoke up, his cheeks turning a faint shade of red, "Just Hongjoong."

You froze, your actions of opening the food package momentarily halted, "What?" You asked, surprised by his request.

He cleared his throat, still blushing but determined, "I said, just call me Hongjoong. We're not at work now, you don't have to be so formal."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you noticed how cute he looked, flustered by the change in dynamics. You nodded, genuinely touched by his gesture, "Okay. Thank you for the meal, Hongjoong. I really appreciate it."

For some inexplicable reason, he felt his heart warm at hearing you say his name for the first time.

As you both shared the meal, he discovered a side of you he had been quick to overlook. He realised just how wrong he had been to judge you based on a shallow stereotype. It became evident that there was so much more to you than just your good looks, and he couldn't help but curse himself for his past behaviour.

He had needlessly made your life difficult from the moment you joined the company, and he felt a growing sense of remorse.

After the meal, you thanked him once more and wished him a safe trip home, intending to return to the office to finish your work. But his unease intensified as he watched you walk back toward the darkened office alone. He couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you after he had left, and he knew he would never forgive himself.

In an unexpected move, he followed you back to the office, stopping the elevator doors from closing and forcing his way in. You gasped in surprise, staring at him with wide eyes.

He cleared his throat, trying to appear nonchalant despite the racing of his heart, "What kind of a terrible boss would I be to let you work alone so late?" He stammered, "I... I'll help you. That way, you'll finish faster, and we can both go home."

Your heart skipped a beat at his thoughtfulness, a gesture you had never expected from the intimidating Kim Hongjoong.

With a grateful smile, you nodded, realising that beneath the stern exterior you had initially encountered, there was a caring and compassionate side to him that you were only just beginning to discover, "Thank you, Hongjoong. This means a lot to me."

From that day forward, the dynamic between you and Hongjoong shifted dramatically.

The next morning at work, an unexpected sight left all of your colleagues in shock. Hongjoong appeared next to your desk, holding a cup of your favourite coffee and a pack of sandwiches that he had clearly taken notice of you enjoying frequently.

His voice was unusually gentle as he greeted you, saying, "Good morning. Here, don't skip breakfast again."

Your heart fluttered with surprise and gratitude as you stammered out a thank you, bowing slightly, "Morning, Mr. Kim! Gosh, you really didn't have to. But thank you so much."

You could see him trying his hardest to maintain his composure in front of your curious colleagues, who were all gawking at the unexpected display of kindness. With a quick nod, he turned and hurried into his office, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Once he was gone, your colleagues flocked around your desk, eager to hear the story behind this sudden change in Hongjoong's behaviour. They bombarded you with questions, excited to unravel the mystery of why your intimidating superior was now going out of his way to be nice to you.

The office buzzed with curiosity and anticipation, as the dynamics within the workplace continued to shift in surprising and heartwarming ways.

Unbeknownst to you, Hongjoong had been discreetly observing you from the glass window of his office.

A smile spread across his face as he watched you finally enjoy the coffee and sandwich he had gotten for you. It was a simple gesture, but it held a deeper significance for both of you.

In the days that followed, everyone at work noticed the remarkable change in his behaviour toward you. He openly acknowledged your skills and contributions, and the two of you began to develop a professional respect for each other.

Your colleagues teased you relentlessly, speculating that there might be something more to his newfound kindness. They playfully suggested that Kim Hongjoong might have developed feelings for you.

But you would have none of it.

You firmly told them off each time they made such ridiculous claims, asserting that his change in behaviour was simply a result of him realising he had been wrong in his initial judgement of you. While the teasing continued, you remained steadfast in your belief that his actions were motivated by respect rather than romantic interest.

The office atmosphere had shifted from one of tension and prejudice to one of teamwork and support, thanks to the unlikely friendship that had blossomed between you and your superior.

Little did you know that your colleagues' playful theories about Hongjoong's feelings were not as far-fetched as you believed.

Frustration began to creep into his actions as he yearned for you to grasp the deeper meaning behind his gestures. He had become more attentive, consistently leaving breakfast at your desk and offering assistance with your workload, even when you hadn't requested it. These efforts were his way of expressing feelings he had only recently come to understand.

He was left bewildered by the evolution of his emotions.

He couldn't pinpoint when it had started, but his newfound respect and admiration for you had gradually transformed into something more profound and romantic.

As he continued to go out of his way to be a part of your life, he wished for the day when you might see beyond the professional facade and realise that his actions were driven by deeper feelings he was struggling to contain.

But Hongjoong had reached a breaking point.

That's it, I guess I'll just have to be more direct.

He couldn't continue to hide his feelings and yearnings any longer; he needed to be more forward about his intentions. The internal struggle was taking its toll, and he was determined to let you know how he truly felt.

On a day like any other, as he got you breakfast, you thanked him once more for the meal.

Gathering his courage, he decided to seize the moment, even if it meant doing so in front of all your colleagues. He cleared his throat and, with an air of determination, he spoke, "You can thank me by going to dinner with me."

A collective gasp rippled through the office as everyone realised that Hongjoong was finally making a move.

You, stunned by his unexpected proposition, gulped and blinked up at him, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. With a shaky voice, you croaked, "A-are you asking me out on a date?"

He nodded, taking a bold step closer to you.

He knew he was being unprofessional, and normally, he would care deeply about that, but his feelings for you had grown too strong to suppress any longer. At this moment, all that mattered was hearing your response, and he couldn't wait to hear you say yes.

As much as you longed to say yes, you couldn't ignore the weight of potential consequences.

The risk of having an office romance with your superior loomed large in your mind, and you feared the impact it might have on both your personal and professional life. You were torn between your heart's desires and the practicality of the situation.

However, your colleagues, growing impatient with your silence, began chanting insistently, "Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!"

Their encouragement, combined with Hongjoong's pleading gaze, melted your heart. You knew that your happiness in the present moment mattered more than any potential complications, so you finally nodded and said, "Yes."

The office erupted into joyful cheers as his face broke into a radiant smile. He couldn't contain his excitement as he gently took your hand and pressed a tender kiss onto your knuckles.

"Great," He said, his voice filled with genuine happiness, "I'll catch you after work, then."

With a newfound sense of hope and anticipation, you felt that this unexpected turn of events might just be the beginning of something wonderful between you and Hongjoong.

Your first date with him had gone exceptionally well, and as you spent more time together, your connection deepened.

After a few more memorable dates, he finally gathered the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend. You couldn't help but voice your concerns about how the relationship might impact your work dynamics.

He listened attentively and reassured you that he understood your concerns completely. He promised to do his utmost to keep things professional and not let your relationship interfere with your work. Trusting his sincerity and the strength of your connection, you took a leap of faith and agreed to be his.

From that point onward, everyone at work began to playfully thank you for transforming Hongjoong from an intimidating figure into a gentle and approachable one.

It was evident that he had become more friendly and open with all the employees, and the atmosphere in the office began to relax. The newfound harmony made everyone happier to work together, as the once-tense environment transformed into a more welcoming and pleasant one.

His transformation from a scary boss to a sweet and caring boyfriend was nothing short of remarkable. He made every effort to ensure that you felt loved and cherished in every aspect of your relationship.

Each morning, he would pick you up from your home with a warm smile and drive you to work, turning your daily commute into a shared adventure.

In his office, you would both enjoy breakfast together, savouring these precious moments before the workday began. As he walked you to your desk, he would often steal a quick, affectionate kiss when he thought no one was watching, leaving a subtle yet sweet reminder of his feelings.

Throughout the day, he would make sure that you never skipped a meal, even if it meant reminding you to take a break. Whenever the weather turned chilly, he'd drape his blazer over your shoulders, ensuring you stayed warm and comfortable.

One of the most significant changes was his commitment to ensuring you didn't stay late at work anymore. He would whisk you away for dinner, treating you to delicious meals before taking you home. And on nights when he was too tired to go home, he'd sometimes stay at your place.

Hongjoong's sweetness as a boyfriend was a stark contrast to the intimidating figure you had first met.

He had evolved into a caring and attentive partner, demonstrating his love not just in words but also through his thoughtful actions, it made your life more meaningful with each passing day.

"Thank you, Mr. Park. I look forward to our collaboration."

As you shook hands with the client, a polite smile on your face, Hongjoong felt a twinge of frustration. He was so close to winning over Park Seonghwa for the latest project.

Fine, you win this round.

A year had passed since you started dating, and your professional paths had taken an unexpected turn. You had been promoted to his level and were now working in a different division, putting you in direct competition with him at work.

He remembered the days when he used to be your intimidating boss, and the thought of you becoming his professional rival both intrigued and challenged him.

While he couldn't deny his pride in seeing your career flourish, the competitive spirit within him burned brightly, as he prepared himself for the battles that lay ahead in your evolving relationship, both in and out of the office.

That evening as you both settled down in the home you now shared, a mischievous grin spread across your face.

You watched with amusement as Hongjoong grumbled and struggled to remove his tie. He wore a look of mock envy as he tried to get rid of the professional attire that now seemed like a burden.

Unable to contain your laughter at his sulking, you approached him, gently helping him remove the tie, "I'm sorry for stealing your client, Joong. I thought you'd be proud of me." You teased, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

He blinked in surprise before a soft smile spread across his face, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

"I'm just playing with you, silly." He said, his voice filled with affection.

"You didn't steal Seonghwa from me. You won him over fair and square with your skills. And I am incredibly proud of you, my love. You continue to prove me wrong about my past stereotypes every day, and I love you so much for it."

Your boyfriend's sweet words had a way of melting your heart, and in that moment, you couldn't resist the overwhelming rush of affection you felt for him, "I love you too, Joong." His arms around your waist made you feel safe and loved, and you leaned in, pressing a soft, tender kiss to his lips.

His lips met yours with a gentle warmth, and the kiss deepened, filled with all the love and passion that had grown between you over the past year. Your arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer as the world faded away, leaving just the two of you lost in the sweetness of the moment.

Time seemed to stand still as you relished the connection, your hearts beating in sync.

If someone had told you a year and a half ago that you and Kim Hongjoong would eventually fall in love, you wouldn't have believed them. But as you held each other in that moment, you couldn't help but marvel at how far you had both come since those days.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Lord, this turned out so much longer than I'd planned.

No regrets though, I realised I had to write this after seeing all the recent photos of Hongjoong in Paris. The sight of this man in suits just does things to me. Like, just imagine having him as your boss.🧎🏻‍♀️

This is personally one of my favourites. Hope y'all liked it too! Thank you for reading and as always, do share your thoughts with me! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Special Edition

Day 4 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Jason Todd x vigilante!fem!reader

Summary: Jason Todd doesn't like you. He does like Jane Austen, though.

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Warnings: angst, arguments, brief description of injuries, fluff, Pride and Prejudice quotes. reader is a vigilante!

A/N: Sorry this is late; thank you for being patient and the encouraging messages!! This is my first Jason Todd fic and I am so excited because I'm madly in love with him. He may be OOC, but I didn't specify which version so you can imagine whichever Jason you want! I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Masterlist | DC Comics Masterlist | Request Info

You are the bane of Jason Todd’s existence. He’s never said it outright, but he shows you constantly that he doesn’t like you, trust you, and certainly doesn’t want to work with you. That doesn’t deter you from trying to bring a little Christmas spirit and friendship to the man in the red hood, though. All he’s missing is a little green and some lights.

December in Gotham is cold, wet, and busy for vigilantes. With Batman breathing down your neck about staying in fighting shape no matter the weather or the time of year, it can be easy to let Christmas slip by unnoticed, and Jason usually does. Since you joined the team, though, you’ve decided it will never happen again.

“Those lights are new,” you point out as you trail behind Jason, cutting through a previously undecorated alley.

“Focus!” he snaps, his helmet turning as he looks over his shoulder at you. “Just because it’s Christmas doesn’t mean we stop to look at pretty lights instead of finding Scarecrow’s new hideout.”

You shrug and jog a few steps to catch up, your eyes focused on his red helmet as he slows. He pulls a grappling hook from his belt and aims it upward.

“You don’t have one do you?” he asks, his voice giving away how annoyed and tired he is.

“Pretty sure Bruce only gives those to his sons,” you answer sheepishly. “I can just take the ladder on the backside of the building. Or we can split up.”

Jason barks a single, harsh laugh. “One, Bruce isn’t sexist like that so maybe he just knows you’re incompetent. And, two, we’re not splitting up.”

“Because I’m incompetent?” you ask, smiling.

Jason’s shoulders rise and fall as he sighs before wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you against his chest until your feet meet the solid roof. His hand raises but lingers by your side as he looks down at you. Nodding to himself, he pulls his arm back and turns to look out over the freezing, dirty streets of Gotham.

“What are the chances he’d go for the water supply again?” you ask quietly.

“Not very good,” Jason answers. “Do you think before you ask those questions?”

“Think? No. But I do see Bane pushing a huge crate into the water department offices down the street.”

Jason jumps from his crouched position and moves toward you, the heat radiating off his body like a warm hug against your skin as he stands behind you. 

There’s a hint of grumbling as he raises his voice to ask, “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“Bane didn’t walk out until after you asked, Jason. I may be incompetent but I’m not a complete idiot,” you answer. 

You blame the December weather for your change in attitude; any other time, you would have made a joke and asked for his help since Bruce was working on your grappling hook and didn’t have a spare (not that you’d ever tell Jason the wire snapped and dropped you three storeys the last time he asked you to split up). But now, you’re tired and cold and want to get away from Jason before you say something you shouldn’t, so you jump off the roof and onto the fire escape as Jason’s yells fall on deaf ears while you rush toward the water department.

When you try the handle, the doorknob twists easily, but as you prepare to open it, a gloved hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back.

“What are you doing? Trying to get yourself killed?” Jason whispers angrily.

“Why do you care, Jason? If I die, you don’t have to work with me anymore, right?”

“Just because I don’t like working with you doesn’t mean I want you dead,” he snaps.

“Then watch my back and try not to be such a Grinch.”

You tear your wrist away from him, blind to his face dropping and his jaw clenching under his mask. Pulling the door open slowly, you slip into the shadows, grateful to feel Jason behind you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You found Scarecrow’s new hideout?” Batman asks.

Jason nods, but you keep your eyes on your feet.

“And you went in - without telling anyone - only to get into a fight with Bane and doused with Scarecrow toxin?”

Jason nods again.

“Who made the call to go in without backup?”

“I…” Jason begins.

You don’t look up as you cut him off. “I did. Jason wanted to wait but I went in without him and he followed me. It’s my fault.”

“Hood, you’re dismissed then. Alfred said you need 24 hours of rest before you can patrol again,” Batman says.

Jason turns, stopping to look down at you before walking out of the Batcave. You hear Bruce pull his cowl off, but keep your eyes trained on your shoes.

“Alfred said the only reason Jason got out unscathed is because you took most of the toxin; without a mask. Why did you rush in there, then put yourself in harm’s way when Jason is more prepared to deal with it?”

“I didn’t think about that. I saw a threat and wanted to help my fri- teammate.” He’s not your friend, you remind yourself, no matter how badly you want him to be.

Bruce sighs, then clicks his tongue. You finally look up at him, and he looks like he’s fighting an internal war between Bruce and Batman. The one who wants to bench you for being reckless and the one who wants to hug you for protecting his son, even if he didn’t need it.

“Thank you. Just- call for backup next time, okay?”

You promise that you will. “But if someone is in danger, I will not hesitate to help.”

“I know that. But try to be a little more careful in the future, okay? Are you hurt?”

“No,” you lie, your mind racing on the remnants of the toxin as your face aches from the impact of Bane’s punch.

As you exit the Batcave and cut through Wayne Manor, Jason is leaning against the front door, his mask gone and his blue eyes leveled on you.

“Did he bench you?” he asks.

“No. Just told me not to do it again.”

Jason nods and pushes off the door, walking to you and looking down into your eyes. “That was incredibly stupid and if Bruce didn’t have this attachment to you, I’d be fighting him to get rid of you or stick you with someone else.”

“Sorry you feel that way,” you mumble, skirting around him and walking outside.

You breathe in the fresh air and try to ignore the feeling of your heartbeat in your face. You’ll undoubtedly have a bruise, so maybe it’s time to finally wear the mask Bruce seems keen on convincing you is for your safety. Maybe it’ll get Jason to lighten up, too. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bruce must’ve given a powerful lecture if it got you in the mask,” Jason teases.

You hum, hoping you don’t have to say anything and make the pain in your jaw worse.

“Just ordinary patrol today, so we can split up if you still want to,” he offers.

You shrug, watching the helmet tilt as its unblinking eye slits stare at you.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” you say. “Split up, then.”

You take the East side of your quadrant while Jason goes West. As the night goes on and your pain medicine wears off, you want to curl up into a ball on one of the roofs you're jumping across and go to sleep. You slow before stopping in the middle of a roof, gently pressing your hand against the underside of your jaw, trying to alleviate the pain.

“What are you doing?” Jason asks, his voice distorted by the mask as he appears suddenly behind you.

“Nothing,” you say, the word mumbled by your hand holding one side of your jaw closed.

You hear his footsteps as he walks around you, stopping in front of you and pulling your hand away from your face before gently lifting your mask to your nose. His sharp inhale is barely audible through the helmet, but you catch it.

“Look that good?” you joke.

“When did that happen? Tonight?”

“No. Bane punched me two nights ago; it’s getting worse, as usual.”

“You should have told someone; what if he had broken your jaw?”

“Then you wouldn’t have to hear my commentary that you love so much.”

“Can you take anything seriously?”

“Can you stop taking everything seriously?” you argue. “I got hurt, so what? You don’t even like me!”

“I never said- no matter my feelings, you’re my teammate. Just tell me this stuff.”

“Because you’re such a good listener,” you mutter.

“Let’s go. We’ll finish patrolling together.”

You nod, pulling your mask back down and following Jason to a roof with a bird’s eye view. You sit on the edge beside him, looking at the twinkling Christmas lights scattered throughout Gotham.

“What do you want for Christmas?” you ask.

Jason’s mask swings toward you. “What do I want for Christmas?” he repeats incredulously. “Oh, let’s see… a partner who doesn’t rush us both into danger, a life that isn’t marked by death and loss, a team that doesn’t look at me like I’m one second away from becoming a supervillain, and maybe, if there is anything like Christmas magic, a day where you don’t act like my life is worth more than yours!”

You hold your breath as he yells at you, releasing it when he looks back out to the skyline.

“Red, we’re here to relieve you. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night,” Red Robin says through the comm system.

Jason storms off as soon as he hears that, leaving you alone two nights before Christmas.

“I don’t think they have that on Amazon,” you whisper to Gotham, rubbing the good side of your face to stop yourself from crying.

✯✯✯✯✯

Bruce gave you a few nights off, presumably because Jason complained about you. The morning after Jason told you what he wanted for Christmas, you get a package containing the gift you thought he’d like. You wrap it, then set it on your kitchen counter, unsure whether it’s worth it to take it to him or if you should leave it at the manor while he’s gone. Shrugging, you decide you have time to make the decision and walk to your couch, queuing your favorite Christmas movie and trying to push Jason Todd out of your head. Deep down, you always believed he was mean because he cared and kept you safe by keeping you at arms’ distance, but now you’re not so sure.

On Christmas Eve, you find yourself standing outside Jason’s apartment, his gift in one hand and the other hand ready to knock. Taking a deep breath, you hope for the best and knock. The door opens a moment later, and Jason looks at you, his gaze catching on the bruise momentarily.

“Um, I just wanted to bring you this. And say that I’m sorry. Merry Christmas,” you explain as you extend the bag to him.

He takes it, pulling his eyes from yours to peek past the tissue paper. His blue eyes widen as he sees what’s in the bag before he closes the door quickly. You step back, hurt, and prepare to leave when the door opens again. Jason pulls you into his arms and into his apartment, kicking the door closed behind him as he holds you close. Your arms wrap loosely around his waist.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

Your arms immediately tighten around him, and you press your uninjured cheek against his chest.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Of course. Merry Christmas, Jay.”

“No, no,” he begins, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his shining like a frozen lake. “You don’t say ‘of course,’ like I deserve it. Not after everything I’ve done to you. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to apologize, but I just..”

“Push people away because you think you’re a bad guy?” you suggest quietly.

“I am a bad guy,” he responds.

“No, you’re not. Jason, do you push people away for you or for them, and their safety, because you care about them?”

Jason is quiet as he stares into your eyes, dropping his gaze to your bruise once. “I care about you,” he whispers. “You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”

“She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes,” you quote.

“Where did you find a special edition of Pride and Prejudice this close to Christmas?” Jason asks, smiling brightly.

“I thought it was going to get here too late.”

“Thank you. For the book and for pushing back.”

“You’re worth it, Jay. Merry Christmas.”

He barely lets you finish before he pulls you in for another kiss the Christmas lights twinkling on the Gotham skyline starkly contrast the streets below, going unnoticed in the background as you realize Jason only pretended not to like you because of how much he cares for you. That, and being wrapped in his arms, is the only Christmas gift you’ve ever needed.

[calcifiedunderland]

Pride & Prejudice: A TWSTed AU

The Merchant from the Depths: A. Ashengrotto

Introduction, or pick another route!

Azul x GN Reader (they/them)

Warnings: Azul is (lovingly) a sus dumbass and businessman, P&P level angst and insults, I got carried away and this is 6k words im so sorry

—

Azul was staring at you again.

Surprisingly, at this point you were sort of used to it. If anything, you stared back at him, dead in the eye, until he broke eye contact, adjusting his glasses or ruffling his hair. Still, it unnerved you a bit more than you’d care to admit.

Ever since his overblot, you noticed that he’d make his presence known around you. Whether it was Azul himself, or Jade or Floyd lurking around your general vicinity and eventually herding you near Mostro Lounge, it was starting to get a little concerning. Especially because of that strange look in his eye when he thought you weren’t looking.

Still, you got some weird signals from Azul, because sometimes he’d chat with you (and not-so-subtly get you to sign a deal with him). Other times, he’d hardly meet your eyes at all.

So now, you decided to ruffle him. It wasn’t like you could go toe-to-toe (tentacle-to-tentacle?) with Azul without causing a massive headache, and staring back at him was hardly the worst thing one could do at NRC. So, you initiated a staring contest with him. You won every time, and he always slunk back with pink dusting his cheeks. The bitter shame of defeat, you thought proudly. Nevermind that it was cute seeing a different side to him, your stomach doing flips.

Meanwhile, still slumped in his seat, Azul attempted to cool his face off. Sevens, you always seemed to surprise him. Humans were so odd - just when he thought he had you all figured out, you always did something that threw him off guard. It appears you weren’t the quiet Prefect all of the time. As class ended and he walked back to Octavinelle, his mind drifted.

The past few weeks following his overblot were strange, indeed. Three days earlier, he sat across from you in his office, smug that he’d finally get Ramshackle. Then a few days later, he was returning the very photo he’d contracted you to steal, and rethinking everything he thought about you. The landfolk always talk about sirens in the sea, he thought irritably as he rubbed his temple, staring down a blank contract. But if the landfolk had their version of sirens, you’d be it.

He tapped the fishbone quill against his desk, gritting his teeth. He didn’t know how much time had passed until Jade entered his office, followed by Floyd who leaned against the doorframe. “Azul, we have this week’s profits-“ Jade stopped when he saw him, “oh? Are you alright? Have you been overworking?”

Azul sighed, flopping back in the armchair. Jade hummed, “perhaps it has to do with a meddling someone?” Azul’s face flushed, and Jade had his answer.

“Fufu, this is interesting,” Jade grinned and watched as Azul composed himself, pushing his glasses up. “We have reasonable proof that the Prefect also shares feelings for you, Azul.” The dorm leader stopped and looked at him.

“…Really?” He asked, resting a hand beneath his elbow and propping his head up. “What proof?

“Who else but the only other soul in the school who dorms with them?” A grin spread slowly across Azul’s face, and he hummed to himself, pleased, “I suppose I should… affirm this for myself. Thank you, Jade.” His glasses glinted ominously in the light as the twins matched his grin. “You should turn in for the night, I’ll be here.” He snapped his fingers and a blank piece of golden parchment unfurled itself midair. “I should make preparations.”

———

Grim had never been this hungry nor intimidated in his life. And never at the same time.

It all started when he went to the cafeteria to get something for lunch, and he was stopped by Azul’s two lackeys. Then, he was whisked into Mostro Lounge with the promises of all the tuna he could want, with desserts!, if only he’d have a little chat with the Housewarden. Despite his grumbling stomach, he was still coherent enough to know bad idea, big no-no. Prefect will yell at you.

Then he saw the buffet of tuna on the table and all reason left him.

He lunged at the table, already drooling, when Floyd caught him around his midsection, “Ah ah ah, sealie,” he grinned ominously, “you gotta talk to the boss!”

At that moment, Azul strode into the room, blue dorm uniform jacket billowing behind him. “Ah, Grim, so good of you to join us.” He seated himself next to the head of the table, where Floyd plopped Grim down. Grim watched dazedly as Floyd and Jade moved to stand behind his chair, while Azul was already pulling out a lengthy contract followed by a little inkpot.

“I understand that you and the Prefect are close? Perhaps, you’d be willing to tell me a bit more… about them,” Azul smirked, watching the fear and hunger swirl in Grim’s eyes. The little cat monster leaned away from him, and Azul loomed closer. “I ain’t telling you anythin’!” He’s still loyal, griped Azul internally. But Azul wasn’t the infamous business-mer of Octavinelle for nothing.

“Of course, of course!” He waved a hand, adjusting his glasses with the other, “I would never want to pry! After all,” he smirked dangerously at Grim, who felt a shiver run down his back, “I am a changed man! And I have the Prefect to thank for it.”

As if on cue, Jade and Floyd leaned down closer to Grim, and he could feel their breaths on his fur. Azul continued, watching Grim’s composure crack with satisfaction, now we’re getting somewhere. “I simply want to thank the Prefect with an… alliance,” he took a saucer and spooned out some expensive tuna, piling it on a cracker, “one that would, of course benefit them. Benefit you.”

Grim opened his mouth to protest, but Azul stuffed the cracker into his mouth. He grinned at the twins, “today is simply the first day of negotiations. If you tell me what I want to know, then this sumptuous feast-“ he brandished a gloved hand to the table laden with food “-is yours. But this is the first of many to come.”

He leaned closer to Grim, satisfied that the hunger in the cat monster’s eyes was growing after whetting his appetite with the tuna cracker. “If your information proves useful, and the Prefect and I form a relationship, I will provide you with high quality foods and comfort.”

To drive the point, Azul topped a cracker with tuna, “including all the tuna,” he added a spoonful of caviar, “you could ever,” he squeezed a lemon over it, “want.”

Grim’s eyes were sparkling, and he opened his mouth as Azul brought the cracker closer to him. Suddenly Azul stuffed the cracker into his own mouth, and Grim’s face fell. Azul’s smirk grew, and he leaned back nonchalantly chewing on the caviar, pleased at the lemon’s tang, “but of course, this depends on how well you help me. You’ll be able to eat after our little chat, don’t worry. I’ll be contacting you for information later today.”

Azul could see the exact millisecond that Grim relented. Eyes sparkling, Grim yelled “HECK YEAH!” And stuffed a paw into the inkpot before Azul could react. Grim slammed his paw where the signature line was, ink splattering on the tablecloth, but Azul didn’t care. Yes, you’ve played right into my grasp, he grinned and snapped his fingers. As the twins backed off and Grim catapulted himself into the middle of the table, Azul chuckled to himself as he ambled back to his office, the Prefect is as good as mine.

———

That’s odd, you thought as you glanced at the clock, Grim should be here by now.

He didn’t come to lunch today, and you hadn’t seen him in a while. It wasn’t usually like Grim to skip a meal, and now it was late evening, and you still didn’t know where he was.

You sighed. You had no energy to deal with this. It was slowly getting later and later, and it was already dark out when you heard the front door open and saw Grim trudging in, looking exhausted.

“Grim!” You scooped him up and hugged him, “where were you?! I was so worried! Don’t do that again!” You blubbered, “are you hungry?” “Nope!” Grim said quickly, which made you a little suspicious. Grim? Not hungry? Sure, when the Scalding Sands freezes over.

“Did you eat?” Grim tensed in your grip, “yeah! Just- stop askin’ questions henchhuman! You worry too much.” He got out of your arms and padded off. “Grim, where did you go?” Grim stopped, eyes wide. “Don’t worry about it!” He raced up to your room, while you frowned behind him. You were definitely worrying about it.

———

Earlier that day, Grim went to his classes after lunch, completely content after his meal at Mostro Lounge and forgetting about his deal. After clubs, he began making his way back to Ramshackle when two shadows loomed behind him. Squeaking, he turned back and lo and behold, Jade and Floyd were grinning at him.

“Eh~ Has sealie-o forgot his little promise?” Floyd cackled, grabbing Grim, “don’t worry, we didn’t!~” It was at that moment Grim knew; he fucked up. This was a mistake. A trap. A grim Grim error. The twins strode into the hall of mirrors, heading straight for Azul’s office. Floyd plopped Grim down on the seat across from Azul, who rested his chin on his intertwined hands. Grim shivered as Azul’s glasses glinted ominously in the light. Azul tapped his quill twice against the desk, smirking assuredly.

“Now, let us begin~”

———

“Grim, what’s this all about?

You were almost running behind your cat monster, who seemed a little too skittish to be without blame. Ever since he came home late that day, he’d been oddly quiet. It all started when you got a letter addressed to you.

My dearest Prefect,

I hope this message finds you well. In light of what transpired before winter break, I’ve realized that I never properly thanked you for helping me.

As such, it would be my honor to host you at Mostro Lounge this evening. I cordially invite you to dinner tonight, please arrive punctually. I look forward to seeing you soon.

Yours,

Azul Ashengrotto

When you tried to find Jade and Floyd (Sevens only knew how long you looked for Azul himself before you gave up), they merely smiled ominously at you and remained just out of reach. As the evening approached, you were left only with confusion and a very skittish Grim. For the past week, he’d come back to Ramshackle later and later, but curiously he wasn’t hungry at all. This was odd - your little cat monster was always down for tuna. Except now.

When you mentioned the dinner to him, he laughed nervously and curiously didn’t ask to tag along. “Why? Its a dinner at Mostro Lounge. Its free. Don’t you want food?” Grim gulped, rubbing the top of his head strangely. “A-and see those two weirdos an’ Azul again? No way!” Still, you noticed his ears pinning back on his head. He’s scared.

“What did they do?” Your eyes narrowed and Grim flinched. “Nothin! You should go to your date!” “Grim, its not a date…” you turned to the letter thoughtfully, “or is it?” “For the love of- YES ITS A DATE! I’m not gonna let that contract go to nothin’!” Grim screeched, the flames on his ears flaring up. Wait… why was it purple and growing out of his head?

“Grim what did you do?!” You watched in horror as an anemone grew out of Grim’s head yet again. “You signed a contract with him?! Why the hell did you do that?!” Grim’s face fell into shock. “Uh oh, I wasn’t supposed to tell ya that…”

With that, the cat monster raced out of the room and made a beeline straight for the Octavinelle mirror. “Grim!” You ran after him, tripping as you fell into the mirror. You thudded on the floor, panting, until two pairs of nice dress shoes came into sight. “Hello, Prefect,” Jade greeted with a hand on his chest. Floyd picked you up by the shoulders and dusted you off. “Welcome to Mostro Lounge~”

The Lounge is… different, you realized. For starters, there was no one there - usually around this time, there’d be customers. Did the Lounge close early tonight? The ambience also was… new. Sure, it was always a little dark since it was underwater-ish, but now there were candle-lit tables flickering, highlighting a central table with two chairs. Somehow it felt very… intimate.

Surely this was some kind of weird prank? “...whats going on?” you looked at the twins, who started chuckling. You suddenly got your bearings back, voice rising in pitch, “Where is Grim?!”

“Ah, Prefect, you’ve arrived.”

You looked up, eyes widening. Azul strode into the Lounge, pearlescent and practically gleaming. His hair was slicked back, and he was dressed smartly in a light greyish-blue suit. He looked opulent, with a layered pearl necklace around his neck reminiscent of his outfit from the festival at Noble Bell. Instead of his usual rectangle glasses, he wore his round-lens frames. In his left breast pocket was a dark blue rose, which he carefully took and held out to you. “Its wonderful of you to join us. Shall we begin?”

What in the cinnamon toast fuck was going on?

—--

Last night, Azul came up with 862 date plans to ensure you had fun. And you will have fun!

He managed to get his money’s (and tuna buffet’s) worth after making (convincing) Grim to sign that contract with him. When Floyd dropped Grim into the seat across from him, Azul grilled him on your interests.

All night, he pored over his notes, going over every detail that Grim said. His main questions were answered, like Is the Prefect looking for a partner?, What does the Prefect want in a partner?, What is the Prefect attracted to?, and so on. In the end, he left his last question unanswered - partially because Grim looked far too frazzled to answer, and because Azul was too scared to ask.

His final question: Does the Prefect love me back? remained unanswered at the bottom of the page. Thankfully, he thought as he pulled your chair out and had you sit down, I don’t need to answer it. You will love me by the end of the night!

As Azul sat down across from you, you gulped. You severely underestimated what this dinner would be. But with Azul dressed to the nines, the twins snickering over your shoulders, and Grim being skittish all day, this could only mean one thing: you were going to have a literal romantic candle-lit dinner with the same dude who nearly made you homeless and made Grim an anemone.

It sickened you. It was overwhelming. So much that you could hardly get any words out as Jade wafted to the table carrying platters of your favorite foods, while Azul laced his fingers together and observed you so gently. It wasn’t like you could get any words in, because Azul began talking at you, Jade started grinning, and you were just reeling. You could hear Floyd humming along with the sizzle of frying oil, and became hyperfocused on random things: Jade’s golden eye. The candle flame flickering. The smell of food. And Azul’s analytical eyes watching you as he spoke.

As Azul began a long tirade about ‘how lovely it was to finally sit down and speak with you Prefect! I do appreciate your time, as you can see we’ve prepared the Lounge to your taste! We hope the food is to your liking and-‘ you cut him off.

“Azul, where is Grim?” You said flatly, putting down your knife and fork. You weren’t even eating anyway, you’d just shoved the food around the plate. By now you were tired of asking questions and wanted answers, dammit. Azul’s eyes widened, and he leaned on his elbow. “Grim is fine! In fact, he was kind enough to tell me all about you.”

You tensed. This wasn’t good. You weren’t necessarily hiding anything, but it wasn’t like you wanted Azul to know things he shouldn’t. “…like what?” You asked, taking up your drink and sipping it slowly. If Azul was going to be coy, you would too. You wouldn’t lose your composure to him.

Azul leaned forward, smirk growing. “Many things,” he tapped a gloved finger against his cheek, “your preferred foods, your aesthetic or decor, and curiously,” his eyes locked onto yours, “your interest in me.”

Strictly speaking, that was a bluff; Grim hadn’t told him that. But as you visibly grew flustered, he thought he hit the nail on the head. “Now now, don’t worry, we didn’t discuss anything bad! Rather, after speaking to him, I have a proposal that I believe would interest you greatly.”

He snapped his fingers, and a gleaming golden contract unfurled beside him. Pushing up his glasses, Azul seemed to smile gently at you. “Now, you would gain plenty things - a free meal at Mostro Lounge per week, a consistent stream of gifts, flowers delivered to Ramshackle every Monday, along with meetings with me each Saturday-” He was about to continue when you cut him off.

“This… this has to be some kind of trick,” you muttered, dazed. You didn’t even realize you said it out loud until Azul’s gaze softened, “No, I’m being completely serious, Prefect. I-“ “What is this?” You demanded, straightening up.

Azul visibly bristled at your words, practiced businessman-smile wavering. “This? This is just a fraction of what I can give you!” He forced himself to keep his composure, “o-of course we can amend the contract-“ “Azul! What is the contract for?!” By now you were beyond worried. You had no idea where Grim disappeared to, and had no explanation about this dinner thing Azul clearly dressed to the nines for. “What am I agreeing to?!”

Azul went pink. “I-I…” you could overhear Jade snickering in the kitchen while something seemed to fall over. Azul cleared his throat, starting to look strangely shy. “I would like you to be my partner.” You frowned deeply, “I’m not working with you. Why do you want me to be your business partner anyway?” At your words, you heard Jade and Floyd bark in laughter while Azul looked like he wanted to sink into his suit

“I mean.. romantically,” he whispered. Your eyes widened while your heart pounded. Slowly, things started to fall into place. Your eyes narrowed, this was too good to be true. “Why?” Azul’s eyes widened, “well, why not?” You stayed silent, just looking at him. Despite being in a not-enemy-situation with Azul, you didn’t exactly forget what transpired before winter break. How you and Jack walked into Octavinelle with the twins, and sat across from Azul as he tried to kick you and Grim out of Ramshackle. And how he gave you backhanded insult after insult, and for what? For him to come up to you now, months later, just to tug on your heartstrings?

He still wanted Ramshackle after all that soul-searching at the Atlantica Museum? Anger burned hot in your stomach. Had he no shame?

Azul grew nervous at your silence. Foolishly, he rambled to fill the quiet, “w-well, you’re quite the intriguing human. Not many have successfully defied my contracts. And I… understand that our first meeting was… less than ideal…” He carefully watched for your reactions, but your face was unreadable, “but I am willing to make amends. I’ve grown affectionate of you, and I believe that I can provide you with enough benefits to make you happy.” He tried for a debonair smile and pointed to the contract, “You will receive many things and more. Quite honestly, this deal is very unlike me - truly, I’m going against my own better judgement.”

This had to be a dream. You laughed humorlessly, surprising him. “And what do you receive?” Azul smiled gently at you, “All I really want is you.” You barked out a laugh, feeling so emotionally exhausted you could cry. “Yeah, sure, and Ramshackle right?” Azul’s eyes widened and he hurriedly tried to explain, “No, of course not-” “Yeah right!” You stood up, glaring down at him. “This-this is some kind of trick right?!” You grabbed the contract and scanned it:

“In accordance with help from Grim, he shall be compensated fittingly for the following tasks:

1) Providing information on the Prefect, (Name)’s, interests in a partner

2) Helping with distinguishing of the Prefect’s preferred romantic aesthetics (dining, love language, physical attributes, personality, etc.)

3) Meeting for the summation of one (1) week to discuss topics regarding (Name)

If Grim tells the Prefect, (Name), details regarding Azul Ashengrotto’s plans before the intended date, then he shall be indebted to Azul for an indefinite time as an anemone-worker.”

You didn’t even bother reading the rest of it. Your eyes were locked on the last line.

“You extorted Grim?!” you screeched, making Jade and Floyd stick their heads out the kitchen door. “You extorted Grim and you expect me to date you?!” Azul tried to calm you down, “Yes- I mean no- I just asked him a few questions! He was compensated with food-” “So that’s why he came back late?! This was what Grim was being weird about?” You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, rubbing your eyes and feeling a few tears come out. “I knew that letter had to be some kind of trick. I knew this was a mistake.” Azul bristled, “a mistake?! Do you have any idea how long this took to prepare?! I could date anyone in this school, but I chose you! Against my own better judgement!”

“Yeah,” you agreed, looking him dead in the eye. “You chose the human with ‘no innate magical power.’” Azul flinched, but you blazed on, hyperventilating, “You chose the ‘utterly run-of-the-mill’ human with the one thing you want - Ramshackle.” Azul finally shut up, he talks too much you thought bitterly. “You’ve insulted me in every possible way. You’ve tried to extort me, you’ve taken advantage of Grim twice, and now you’re trying to play with my emotions to kick me out of Ramshackle! Again!” You clenched your fists, vision tunneling. “Are you kidding me?! I am never! Going to date you!” you shoved the now-crumpled contract into Azul’s chest as he blubbered. “I’m not signing that contract! You are the last person I would date on this campus!”

The silence that followed hung in the air thickly. As you breathed heavily, you realized the weight of your words. Azul was by no means a person to make an enemy of, but you had spoken the truth. And he seemed to realize that. “Then if that’s your decision, there’s no point in continuing this dinner.”

Azul sighed quietly, “Floyd, bring Grim out. Let them leave.” Grim bounded up to you, puffing angrily until you gave him a look, “ you, Grim, are in so much trouble.”

—---

The next few weeks were quiet. And considerably unsupervised by two eels and an octopus.

After you told your friends about what happened, unsurprisingly Ace and Deuce were angry. Jack was pissed too, “you’re tellin’ me Azul still wants Ramshackle?! After all this time?” Jack clenched his fists while Deuce had a crazed ‘delinquent’ look. “I thought we showed him not to mess with ya’ before! Even after making us anemone’s he doesn’t know when to quit!”

You sighed, already tired. “look, nothing’s happened. I don’t think he’ll try anything.” Not after you wrecked his ego.

Jack crossed his arms, “that octopunk better not be plotting. He may honor a contract, but you can’t trust a schemer.” You shrugged, “He can’t do anything because I didn’t sign the contract, so even if he did want Ramshackle, he’d have to go about it differently. Anyway,” you glanced at the time, “Lunch is about to end. See you guys after class, c’mon Grim.” You all parted ways, and you and Grim walked into History of Magic.

You listened to Professor Trein drone on, and after a while of notetaking, he cleared his throat. “To end this unit, I will be assigning a project in which you will report on the magical history of a specific place. I have randomly assigned you a place to report on,” he regarded the room full of groaning students, gesturing to the table behind him “you have one month to finish it. Class dismissed. The area you will report on is listed on the papers behind me, beside your name.” Students flocked to the table, and you waited a bit for everyone to clear out while you collected your things.

Finally, you walked to the table and flipped the papers, looking for your and Grim’s names while Trein hummed at the podium. Lucius slunk between your ankles, purring softly while your heart sank at what you had to report on.

“The Coral Sea?” You looked up at Trein, “S-sir, I won’t be able to-” “Why not?,” the man asked, picking Lucius up. You mirrored him and picked Grim up, who crossed his arms, “nya, its Azul’s ‘n his hencheels’ home!” Way to be obvious, Grim. Trein raised an eyebrow, “It’s always good to learn more about others’ homelands. It may do you and Grim good to learn more about this world, and from what I gather, you have been there before.” You flinched, but Trein didn’t seem to condemn you. “However, you aren’t the only terrestrial student assigned an aquatic area. While I won’t make every student visit their assigned areas, I believe it will be beneficial if you visit them. I will speak to Professor Crewel about providing you underwater breathing potions.”

While that wasn’t what you were worried about, you still appreciated it. “Thank you, Professor,” you shouldered Grim, determined. “We won’t let you down.”

—---

After about a week of waiting, and getting jumpscared by Crowley who gave you an underwater breathing potion after singing his own praises (“ah! How generous I am!~”), you and Grim headed to the Dark Mirror. “The Coral Sea,” you called out, gulping, “The Atlantica Memorial Museum.” As the Mirror swirled, so too did your mind as you stepped in after taking the potion.

You floated in the water for a moment. The last time I was here was… Ah, right. When you were stealing from the museum, and when you returned the photo with everyone. The photo… you swam towards the museum, which was thankfully open this time. You willfully ignored the mer-museum goers, some who looked surprised to see a human. You supposed you couldn’t blame them, though - you were floored when you saw the twins’ eel forms for the first time.

You and Grim swam around the exhibits for a bit, with you taking notes and Grim finding the information. Even though you didn’t really want to do the assignment in the first place, you couldn’t deny that it was fascinating seeing human ‘artifacts’ from a merfolk perspective. You were able to get a good amount of material - from the mermaid princess’ hairbrush (which was just a fork?), the Sea King’s trident, and a replica of the Sea Witch’s crown and nautilus. The museum even had some of her old makeup products - which was a shellfish she squeezed. Cool. Anyway.

Now you and Grim were tired, and it was around late lunchtime since you got to the museum as soon as it opened. As you both headed out, Grim stretched, swirling in the water, “henchhuman, I’m hungry!,” his eyes lit up and despite the oceanwater, you swore you could see drool, “Ya think the Coral Sea has any good eats?! Oh, imagine the seafood…!” You noted that the potion duration still had some time left, but still. You were hungry too after using all your energy swimming, and it wasn’t like you’d be back in the Coral Sea anytime soon. After thinking, you nodded, “sure, we can go look.”

The museum was close to the ‘city,’ so you both swam around. A few merfolk murmured in surprise at seeing a human and cat, but you tried to ignore it. Suddenly Grim gasped, “nya, the Mostro Lounge?!” Your head snapped up to the bioluminescent sign. A swirl of emotions went through you, while Grim blanked out remembering his contract. It isn’t like you’ll see Azul here (name). You’ll be fine. “...Azul did say that the Lounge at school is a sister location, I think…” Still, this place looks way too fancy. You definitely couldn’t afford it.

“Welp, we can’t afford it Grim, lets go-” you tried to swirl around and swim off but you were a little clumsy in the water. You knocked over a shell decoration at the entrance accidentally, and Grim crashed into a merman guest. “Hey! Easy there- wait, a human?!” Oh no, immediately the merfolk zeroed in on you. You stiffened nervously. You caught some whispers, “Are they a student?,” “Look, they have a Night Raven College uniform,” “Wow! A human!”

You looked around nervously, unconsciously backing into the restaurant when you heard a female voice behind you. “Oh, are you a student at Night Raven College?” You whirled around, crashing into the tentacles of an older mer-octopus lady. She didn’t seem fazed, but smiled widely at you. Even before she introduced herself, you recognized those eyes and well-placed mole.

“Hello dear! I run this restaurant, my son goes to your school as well! Perhaps you know him?” She held your gaze, but you could feel her tentacles fixing your collar and blazer, while she dusted your shoulders off with her hands. “I- I might,” you stammered, “I’m (name).” “Oh, its so nice to meet one of my baby’s friends! He’s told me all about you!” As she grabbed Grim around the torso with a tentacle, she firmly grasped your shoulders. “Please, you must have something to eat!” As she steered you to a table, you tried to gather your bearings. You were seated, and she thrust a menu into your hands.

“It’s so nice to meet you, (name)! You’re the prefect, right?” Your eyes widened, but she continued. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Azul’s mother! My son is the Octavinelle housewarden,” she said proudly, confirming your suspicions. “Really?,” you asked, wondering what the odds were that you’d meet the mother of the guy you viciously dumped. She took your surprise for confusion, “Yes, I believe you two know each other? He’s mentioned you before. I’ll ask him later!” she beamed, “Please, pick whatever you’d like from the menu! It’s all on the house for my baby’s friends!” She winked, and you managed a nervous smile while Grim cheered. You shakingly pointed out a few foods, and she whisked off to the kitchen in a stream of bubbles.

A few minutes later, she walked back with way more plates than you ordered, and sat down next to you. Even after you asked if she’d like any food, she refused, and simply said “I just want to talk with you! I’ve heard a lot about you~” That made you nervous, but you complied. After the first few minutes, you relaxed a bit, and made easy conversation with her. Even Grim seemed more carefree, after inhaling about five plates of Coral Sea tuna, which she herself made, to your surprise.. Azul definitely got his conversational ability from her, you thought. While Azul used his chattiness to talk people into a contract, his mother used it for hospitality. It was no wonder the original Mostro Lounge was a hit - it was all because of her ability, inside the kitchen and out. This was nice, you thought tenderly.

“It’s good to hear that my baby’s doing well,” she hummed. “I’m glad he has some land friends. I sometimes worry he works too hard,” she chuckled, reminiscent. “You know, he’s always had a hard time opening up to others, outside of the Leech brothers. He’s always had his head in his contracts, he certainly got that from my husband. I’m glad he’s opened up a bit more. I’m glad he has you,” she smiled gently. You felt a bundle of nerves well up inside you, but you simply nodded. “Y-yeah…”

“Well! If you’re finished with your food, then it’s time for dessert!” In a blink of an eye, she swept up the plates with her tentacles and rose from the chair, winking. “I know just the thing! Wait here.” You tried to protest, but she left too quickly. Grim hummed happily while you slunk down in your seat. Azul has a hard time opening up. Was the contract… his way of doing that? I didn’t even hear him out… “Grim,” you asked quietly, “was I too harsh on Azul?” Grim looked up, pondering. “Nya? Henchhuman, you can’t be havin’ second thoughts! Not after you took my tuna away for three months!” You pursed your lips, but started when you heard your name.

“Prefect?!” You snapped up, wide eyed and staring at… “Azul?!” But… not Azul?

There was the housewarden himself, but not in human form. His merform. You were reminded of his overblot form, but that paled in comparison to now. Azul’s tentacles were longer, even longer than Jade and Floyd’s full merforms. His skin was a light lavender, wait he has abs? and the majority of his body was a smooth, inky black that shimmered mesmerizingly in the ocean light. His eyes and hair were a lovely light blue, but now he looked very panicked at you seeing his true self.

“You- you’re-!” Azul shut his eyes tightly, this isn’t happening please not them too, “Prefect please don’t ever mention this, I swear I’ll give you whatever-!” “You’re beautiful,” you gasped in awe. Azul’s eyes widened, and a deep purple blush spread on his face. “Why- you-!” Suddenly you realized where you were, and scrambled for an explanation while Grim zeroed in on the dessert Azul was holding, “I- we’re here because of Trein’s project, and-!” “Hey Azul, gimme that!”

While Grim dug into the dessert, Azul held his head in his hands, sitting next to you, tentacles curling in on themselves as if to make him smaller. You swished your legs around awkwardly, before saying quietly, “I had no idea you’d be here. I… Why are you here? It’s not a holiday.” “I… went to visit my stepfather for advise on the Lounge. I had permission from the headmaster,” he said finally. “I stopped here to see my mother, and you could imagine my surprise when she said a human student was here,” he chuckled humorlessly. “She told me to bring them dessert, and shoved me out the kitchen. It never crossed my mind it was you.”

You bit your lip and looked away. This was the first time you and him were speaking since that failed dinner. “…I’m sorry,” you said finally. “What I said to you in the Lounge was awful, and-”

“No, in hindsight your reaction was… reasonable,” he said to your surprise, “I admit that my methods weren’t… the best,” he said, as if saying that hurt him. Which you supposed it did - Azul didn’t take failure well. And why would he? When he worked so hard to get where he was?

Grim burped, sighing contentedly while Azul’s mother bustled out of the kitchen. “Zuzu! You found your friend!” Azul flinched at the nickname, blushing again, “Mama, please-” “No! I’m sure poor (name) has been sitting here long enough! Why don’t you two take a little swim, hm?” She wrapped a tentacle around your torsos and shoved you gently out the entrance, smiling pointedly at her son. “I’ll take care of Grimmy, you enjoy yourselves!” Grim yowled in protest, but as she turned, you saw her offering a dessert to pacify him. Old habits die hard, you supposed.

By now, the sun was setting, and the ocean was warmed to a pleasant orange. Your hair swayed gently in the current, and you followed Azul along a path. You both stopped on a high rock and sat down, dangling your lower limbs over the ledge. He hadn’t said a word the entire time. You stared into the distance, “Azul, why did you want me to sign that contract?”

He was quiet. “I told you, I wanted you to be my partner.” He hugged his arms as if to shield himself, “You made it quite clear you didn’t want me. And I’ll respect your choice. You won’t hear a word from me or the twins. I promise.” You bit your lip, “you really meant it?” His eyes widened. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He refused to meet your eyes, but if he did he’d see a smile grow on your face. “You… you didn’t want Ramshackle? Or to… I dunno, get back at me?” “...No. I truly didn’t. I… I really did just want you.” I do want you.

You nudged him gently, “Even against your own better judgement?” you asked jokingly, but he didn’t pick it up. He felt his eyes sting, “I didn’t mean to say that. I panicked and I… even if we…” he swallowed thickly, “I don’t regret falling for you. Even if…” he trailed off, but you felt your heart melt.

“I do foolish things around you,” he whispered. “It’s like all my years of negotiating is gone. But I didn’t want to make you be with me. I wanted you to want to be with me.”

Oh. Oh. Suddenly the jittery feeling you’d had during the dinner came back full-force. “Hey, Azul?” you asked with newfound courage, fueled by adrenaline alone. “You know… you don’t have to make me be with you.” He peeked at you from behind his bangs, eyes wide. Your face started feeling hot, but you grabbed his hand, “I want to be with you too. In every form.”

You didn’t know when you started moving closer to Azul, but right then he dipped his head toward you. His lips captured yours, and he wrapped his arms around you tightly as if trying to make sure that this wasn’t a dream. Immediately your hands cupped his face, and your legs tangled with his limbs. At last, you both pulled away, panting. You were smiling so hard your cheeks began aching.

“Guess I came around in the end, huh?” “Well, my business judgement is always sound, angelfish,” he said smugly, but you weren’t fooled. “You talk to much, Azul,” you giggled, pulling him in for another kiss.

What a memorable trip to the Coral Sea.

~END

———

Notes: spot the spy x family reference lmao. Also, the blue rose signifies secrecy, pride, admiration, and unrequited love! Ngl i had fun writing this, it was so cathartic to write, but this was my longest fic yet holy shit

For the dinner scene this is what I imagined

You: *yelling at Azul during dinner*

Tweels, peeking from the kitchen and eating popcorn, watching it like a telenovela: damn

Anyway!! Thank you so much for reading, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

Taglist: @cerisescherries, @eclecticprincecollector, @ars-tral, @thehollowwriter, @twst-eeps, @casperandcats, @ttokkisbee , @mitsuriswaifu, @parad-ice-lostandfound, @sad-sie, @moyo5653

(If your user is in bold, it means I wasn’t able to tag you properly 😅)

[heliads]

Can I request a Loki x fem reader where the reader is a super kind empath Avenger and comforts Loki, who also has been recruited as an Avenger (very reluctantly) but is still a bit ostracized from everyone else on the team. The reader is able to see how poorly Loki was treated in the past and promises to be there for him. They both end up falling in love but are too afraid to tell each other (the reader is able to feel this weird warm and fuzzy emotion Loki directs at her and she can’t pin point what emotion it is). They end up confessing when Loki sees an avenger member take advantage of the readers sweetness so he steps into comfort her. He confesses and they kiss 😚

Also have an amazing day and take your time with requests!!!

hope you have an amazing day too!

masterlist

If you squint ever so slightly, peer out from the reach of your favorite chair just enough to see into the surrounding hallway, you can almost make out the silhouette of Tony Stark pacing back and forth outside his office door. 

As resident empath of the Avengers team, you’re in charge of reconnaissance, general battle backup, and checking in on everyone to make sure they’re still intact. You’ve also gone ahead and assumed that to mean that you can use your abilities to read the hearts of your teammates. Hey, it’s what they hired you to do, right? It’s not like you’re scanning their minds, now that would be invasive. All you’re doing is sensing how they’re feeling. Anyone could do that with a bit of good knowledge on body language.

You shift slightly, and there– you can just make out a cloud of colors circling Tony’s figure. That’s how emotions have always appeared to you ever since you were a kid. When people are having a perfectly normal day and not too much has happened, you’ll only be able to pick up on a tendril or two of colored smoke around their frame, a few hints at happy or sad but nothing too special. 

Conversely, when something crazy is going on, it’s like they’re walking out of a bank of mist, Mr. Darcy at the end of Pride and Prejudice (2005)-style. For instance, at this very moment you can’t even tell what shade of shirt Tony is wearing through the dense emotion rattling around him.

This is obviously a sign that something is going on. Usually, Tony’s pretty laid back, or at least he pretends to be. Cool blue is his trademark. Sometimes, closer to missions or just after them, you’ll see bright lime or sickly yellow lancing through them, panic and stress from too much pressure on his shoulders. You can sense his anxiety attacks before they start. Tony has no idea how many times you’ve used your gifts to divert those things, and if you have it your way, he’ll never figure it out.

Tony’s not panicking right now, though, or not in the way that you’re used to. Instead of purple or blue, all you can see around him is red, blazing red. Tony’s not usually a red kind of guy. Red means anger, outrage, and by the looks of him now, something has happened to cook up a regular bonfire of irritation.

As you watch, though, more colors join the fray. You can spot uneasy yellows and greens, an undercurrent of fear. What could possibly be going on to make Tony so unhappy? The situation is complicated, to be sure, but that’s nothing new around the Avengers. Take it from a S.H.I.E.L.D.- registered empath:  no one ever feels just one thing at one time. There’s always a dozen different emotions swirling in between your heart and head. And right now, Tony’s got quite a few to chew on.

Unable to contain your curiosity, you get up from your seat and pad over to him. Tony almost flinches when he turns and sees you, but he rubs a tired hand over one eye and greets you like normal.

You arch a brow at this attempt at pretending everything is fine. After all this time, Tony should know that you’re not one to get fooled by a pretty lie like that. “What’s going on? You’re totally freaking out.”

“So glad to see you, Y/N,” Tony complains, “I look great? Thanks for telling me. You’re always so quick with the compliments.”

You give him a look. “I know how you’re feeling. What’s up with you?”

“It’s not me you should be questioning,” he sighs, “it’s the newcomer to our team.”

You frown. “I didn’t think we were getting someone new.”

“We weren’t supposed to, but Fury added another guy last minute. Apparently it was either that or have him rot down in a cell for all eternity, and we don’t want to risk pissing off his brother,” Tony clarifies.

“Who’s his brother?” You ask, curious.

“Thor,” Tony says, and then you understand at last.

“Loki is joining the team?” You can’t believe it. Loki attacked New York all of six months ago. Sure, Fury has always been one to maximize opportunity, but you can’t believe he’d let Loki into the ranks of the Avengers so quickly.

“That’s what I said,” Tony harrumphed, “but apparently it’s already done. He’ll be coming up later today to meet us all. You know, without trying to kill us this time.”

You chuckle under your breath. “I can’t wait to see how that goes. How long do you think we have until Steve breaks out a patriotic speech on our or his behalf?”

Tony snorts. “It’ll happen any minute now. Look, here Steve comes up the stairs now. It’s like he marches everywhere he goes. Unreal.”

True to Tony’s suspicions, Steve, upon learning of Loki’s arrival, does indeed treat all of you to a talk about looking past first impressions. If the red flickering around his eyes and fists says anything, though, it’s that he’s just as pleased about the whole affair as Tony.

You, for one, aren’t sure what to make of the whole thing. Something must have happened to make Fury trust Loki, and until you learn otherwise, that’s as good an endorsement as you’ll get around here. Before long, Thor is marching into the Avengers complex with a stranger in tow, and all of a sudden, you have eyes on your new teammate.

It’s strange, your first impression of Loki. Second, technically, but you’re not counting the Battle of New York. That was different, you were trying to kill each other. Now you’re supposed to count on him to save your life.

Tony shoots a quick glance your way, cocking one brow as if to ask, getting anything? The honest answer is no, not yet. Asgardians are always hard to read, you figured that out when you first met Thor. Everything about them is different, even down to how they feel certain emotions. Loki is no exception. At first, you think he feels nothing at all. Then, you realize he’s just very good at hiding it. His back is perfectly straight, spine stiff and unfeeling.

That is, until you look a little deeper and you start to see the threads of colors playing around his clothes, his hands, his blank stare. They’re green in color, green and gold like the stitching on his apparel. They’re not happy emotions, these, they’re–

They’re fear. Loki is afraid. Not that anyone here will kill him, not that sort of fear. He is certain that all of you will reject him, that this great god will have to watch humans laugh at him and just deal with it anyway.

You can understand feeling like that. When you were first recruited to the Avengers, you almost thought it was a joke. Surely an empath wouldn’t be useful in the heat of the battle. They had to convince you of that later, once you could start changing people’s emotions instead of just reading them. Still, you know what it’s like to doubt yourself, even when you’re sure that you are worth more than anyone can imagine.

So, you step forward first, and greet him with a smile. “I’m Y/N,” you say, “it’s good to see you.”

Loki arches a brow, and you don’t have to read minds to know that he’s thinking is it? as strongly as he can. This confusion only grows when you hold out a hand to him. For a moment, you think he’s going to reject you, but your smile stays insistent. He doesn’t have to like you at all, but goddamnit, you’re going to like him. He can deal with that on his own terms.

He must be able to pick up on this sort of stubbornness, and for some reason this is what wins him over at last. Loki extends his hand to shake yours, and just like that, the ice is broken. It’s as if a collectively held breath is released across the room.

That isn’t to say that the rest of the Avengers take to him so readily, nor that Loki is as willing to accept them as you. He tends to stick to himself, avoiding crowds unless he can’t avoid it. He begrudgingly tells you it’s because being around that many people either reminds him of Asgard or the battle or both.

He tells you a lot, actually. It doesn’t all happen at first. He may have shaken your hand, but he seems dead set on despising you. However, you’d made up your mind to win him over at that point, and you weren’t going to rest until you met your goal. It took a lot of slow, deliberate effort, but before long the conversations weren’t so one-sided and you swore he actually smiled when you entered the room.

Also, he stopped hiding his emotions as much. The first time you saw a hesitant wave of goldenrod brush across his shoulders, you thought you were hallucinating. It was there the next time you saw him, though, and the next, and the next, deepening to sunset orange and staying there. Happiness. He liked being near you.

Once trust was built, real friendship could follow suit. Turns out Loki was just as reluctant to join the Avengers as your lot was to welcome him in, but when Director Fury makes a decision, pretty much everyone has to follow suit. Thor had warned him against causing more trouble, so Loki was here to stay. He used to think that was a bad thing, but judging by the way his tone has softened as of late, he might not be so sure of that anymore.

Loki starts to tell you more, once he stops thinking of you as an outsider. He tells you about Thanos, about how he had twisted Loki’s mind so that he could only attack the city. You had suspected something was wrong with Loki during the Battle of New York– his eyes glowed a strange color, the emotions flickering around his chest were almost alien, so unusual even for a god– but hearing it is the confirmation you needed to be sure. Loki had not attacked you in his own mind. He had not tried to kill you, that was someone else forcing his hand.

That last part was especially crucial. The night he finally told you about Thanos’ control, Loki had not been able to leave until he was certain that you understood that it had not been him leading the attack on the Avengers and your home. At last, you convince him that it is alright, and only then can he rest easy.

The rest of the Avengers aren’t able to share in this peace, however. They don’t want to give Loki a chance, which, seeing as they’re not able to actually see his emotions, you can sort of understand, but at this point it’s growing tiresome. It’s been months now since Loki joined the team, and he has not lied to or betrayed or attempted to murder anyone. You want to yell at them to grow up, but you don’t feel like picking someone else’s fights.

Instead, you’d rather spend your time pondering another puzzle. Loki’s moods have shifted again towards you, but this time you cannot understand them at all. Something’s changed about the way he looks at you, how he speaks, and you have no clue what any of it means.

When you have trouble, though, there’s only one surefire solution:  you need to talk to Natasha Romanoff. Nat’s been your best friend since you joined the Avengers, actually. She gets you. You get her. It’s a good time all around.

So, Natasha doesn’t look too surprised when you all but throw yourself into one of the chairs in her favorite space in the complex one sunny morning. The only question on her mind isn’t to ask what’s up with you but what Loki’s done now.

You grimace. “I don’t know, that’s the worst part. He’s acting weirdly.”

“Isn’t that normal for Loki?” Nat questions. “I mean, he is a disgruntled younger brother/frost giant/Norse god. I feel like weird for him is kind of expected.”

“No,” you argue, “This is different. Something’s changed.”

Natasha furrows her brow. “And you haven’t been able to pick up on anything?”

“Well,” you hesitate, “maybe there’s something. I have no idea what it is, though. It’s happy, I think, but it’s sad at times, too, and flickery, like even he can’t explain it. I don’t know how to describe it in the slightest.”

She nods decisively. “It’s love.”

You blink in surprise. “What? No, I just said I had no idea what this is. There’s no way you would be able to guess it so quickly.”

Nat shrugs. “Actually, your vague description was exactly why I know what this is. Only love makes no sense like that. Love makes you happy, but it breaks your heart, right? It confuses the hell out of you because that’s what it’s supposed to do. There’s nothing else that could make anyone feel like a mess of emotion but love.”

You sigh. “That still leaves the fact that it’s Loki, though. You actually think he’s in love with me? I’m a human. I mean, inhuman, technically, but same difference to him. Why would a literal Asgardian god ever look at me like that?”

Natasha’s gaze is knowing, but you can’t quite meet her eyes. “I don’t know why he wouldn’t. You won him over faster than anyone was expecting. I think the biggest question isn’t what he’s feeling, but what you are.”

You brush her concern aside. “Well, of course I know how I feel. I’ve had this much time figuring out how other people’s emotions work, it’s like a user manual for what certain things feel like in your own head. I just can’t believe that he truly feels the same. Maybe he’s trying to trick me by pretending to feel a certain way, I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Nat scoffs. “I thought you were the president of the ‘Stop Loki Hate’ fan club. What’s gotten you doubting him again?”

You shoot her a look. “I’m not doubting him, just myself. Also, there’s no such fan club. Fury banned us from attending Avengers-based clubs, remember?”

She nods mournfully. “All it took was one bad experience. Look, all of us showing up to the ‘Personally Victimized by Nick Fury’ meeting was funny. He was just being a bad sport.”

You smile fondly. “I remember. I’ve never seen that much red in my life. He was totally outraged.”

“Oh, I know. You didn’t need empathy powers to tell that much. At least we abstained from putting on the fake eye patches.” Nat muses.

You bite back a laugh. “Yeah, that might have been overkill. Anyway, back to the point. Are we sure about this?”

“We’re sure,” Natasha assures you, “I’m sure you’ll get in your own head about it later, though.”

“You can count on it,” you grin, and say your goodbyes.

Natasha is right as usual, as it turns out. Both about your feelings and the fact that you would second guess yourself. You were going to say something to Loki, but you talked yourself out of it later that night. It just feels wrong, that’s all. There’s no way a literal prince of the gods would fall in love when you’re just, well, you.

You do your best to push it out of your head, Nat’s knowing glances be damned. Life is too busy to contemplate men who won’t speak their minds. It feels like a new crisis hits New York every week. Speaking of which, you’ve actually got complaints about that. Namely, the fact that you haven’t been on a mission in quite some time despite your status as an Avenger.

You get frustrated once a couple of months have gone by without you seeing a fight. You pull Steve aside when you hear about something going wrong again. “I saw Fury’s memo about needing an extraction team for a situation over in Spain. Can I sign up?”

Steve shakes his head. “Thanks for the offer, Y/N, but we’ve already got enough guys on that team.”

You frown at him. “You can never have too many guys on an extraction team. It’s, like, Avengers lore that stuff always goes wrong on those. I can at least tag along as backup just in case. I’ll grab my gear and be off in like five minutes.”

Steve doesn’t seem willing to back down, though. “Look, I’m glad you’re passionate about the team, but we’re good, honestly. If you’re getting bored, just join the next mission, I’m sure one will come up sooner than later.”

You sigh. “That’s what everyone said last mission, and the one before that, too. I haven’t been out of the complex on official business in three months. I’m an Avenger, Steve, let me act like one.”

Steve puts his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Y/N, I meant what I said about being glad you want to help, but this is serious. I’m a supersoldier, that’s why I’m out there all the time. Nat’s been trained for this sort of stuff since she was a kid. It makes sense to send us, right? You know we value your gifts, but we can’t risk hurting you.”

Your stomach twists. “You mean, I’m really best when I’m looking at people’s heads, not actually in a fight.”

Steve doesn’t seem to realize he’s upset you, and he nods emphatically. “Exactly! You’ve got a great skill set, just not for right now. I bet we’ll find something soon, though.”

You flash him a thumbs up, already walking back down the hallway so he can’t see the way your face twists. “Can’t wait.”

You let your composure drop the second you’re around the corner. Is this really how they feel? You were useful in the Battle of New York, you know that, and the other agents say you’ve been improving with your abilities by leaps and bounds. You’re handy with a gun or knife, too, so you know you could survive a fight and be of use. You’ve done it before, why are they so keen on stopping you now?

It makes you feel, well, useless. It’s hard to stop the tears from pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you quickly change course to head for your private quarters. You don’t want anyone to see you like this.

Of all the fantastic timing, though, the one person you want to run into least of all right now steps into the hallway just as you think that. Loki nods at you as usual, but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head dismissively, trying to physically will yourself to look normal. “Nothing! I’m great. Everything’s good.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, though, and reaches out a careful hand towards you. “Are you sure? It doesn’t seem like everything is good.”

You let out a watery laugh, and that does it. “No, actually, things are terrible. Everyone on the team sees me as a joke.”

Loki frowns, clearly taken aback. “Well, that’s not true at all. I don’t see you as a joke in the slightest.”

“Everyone else, then,” you amend with a messy wave of your hand, “I’ve been trying to convince them to let me on a mission for months and they won’t do it. I know my gifts are damn near useless, but I just want to help.”

“That’s not true,” Loki repeats, “They’re a lot of good, actually, and you know that. You’re the best interrogator they have, even compared to Romanoff. You see through everyone’s lies in a heartbeat, even mine, and I’ve had plenty more time to practice them than most. You can sense a trap or ambush in half a second. They’re fools for not wanting you out there with them.”

You smile weakly at him. “You don’t have to say all of that. Thanks, though.”

“Of course I do,” Loki says blankly, “it’s true, and I need to.”

“Why?” You ask curiously.

Loki swallows hard, looks away, and then you see it again– that faint mist of pink, right over his heart. It’s just like Nat said, isn’t it? Just like that.

He forces his gaze back to you, and you’re shocked by the certainty in his eyes after all this time of ducking around your feelings. “It’s true because I love you, and I would not be able to stand it if you let the rest of them talk you into thinking otherwise. They’re toy soldiers, the lot of them, all the same. They couldn’t see real worth if it was standing right in front of them.”

You smile, and for once it’s not cracked or teary or anything, it’s real, as real as the pink ribbons tying the two of you together. “I love you too,” you say.

“Of course you do,” he replies, but he’s smiling too, and you think– no, you know– that everything is going to be alright.

marvel tag list: @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver

[floral-force]

Lay Me Down to Sleep

Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!Reader

summary: Insomnia plagues you during your first night on-base with Task Force 141. A little midnight stroll leads you to the imposing masked lieutenant you'd been warned about. Maybe a common struggle can lead to comfort...

words: 1.8k+

warnings/tags: just really soft stuff here (but my work/blog is always 18+ only), this one goes out to my fellow insomniacs, insomniac!simon "ghost" riley, pride and prejudice mention, all fluff, technically pre-slash, soap is a lil shit

a/n: hi, hello, I am back (sort of). I took a long hiatus bc of work/life stress but I cranked this out a while ago and finally feel confident enough to post it. thank you for reading and sticking with me &lt;3

masterlist | read on ao3 | taglist

You stared up at the ceiling of your room, rubbing the heels of your palms into your tired eyes. Hours had passed since you’d gotten into bed to rest up before a briefing in the morning. Sleep still hadn’t found you yet. Maybe it was the time difference—you had flown into England from the States not even 12 hours ago—or maybe it was the stiff mattress. Or maybe it was the way you still thought of the masked lieutenant at Price’s side when you’d gotten off the heli. 

Whatever it was, you needed to get over it. You’d read online that sometimes leaving bed to do something other than try to sleep helps, so maybe it was the perfect time for you to check out that tiny little excuse for a kitchen the Scottish private—nicknamed Soap, he’d told you with a wink—had shown you earlier. With a sigh, you got up and wiggled out of your sleep shorts and into more modest sweatpants, anxiously pulling at the hem of your shirt as you stepped into your crocs and walked out of the door.

Your eyes finally adjusted to the bright fluorescent hallway light as you reached the kitchen, surprised to see a light on when you opened the heavy door with bated breath. You peeked inside and saw a broad man sitting at a table, absolutely dwarfing it with his size. 

“Can’t sleep, eh?” 

You jumped at the deep voice and nearly let the door slam, catching it right before impact and slowly closing it. “Uh, no.” You chuckled, walking behind him to the right side of the table.

You reached the chair, then stopped in your tracks when you lifted your gaze off the floor. 

It was him—the masked lieutenant. 

You could barely make out a quirked-up eyebrow under the shadow of his sweatshirt’s hood as he took a sip from the mug his large hand dwarfed, his fabric mask scrunched up over his nose. Your heart raced and you looked down at the seat of the crummy plastic chair in front of you. The kitchen was now the last place you wanted to be, but you were too tired to make up some shitty excuse to flee. 

So, you stood awkwardly in front of the chair, hands in your pockets, biting your lips.

“I’m—” you cleared your throat, “I’m guessing you can’t either, Lieutenant?”

“Never can these days,” he replied gruffly. 

There was the sound of another sip from his mug, a thump when it was lowered to the table, and then silence. It was heavy and awkward, and you were certain you’d never felt more embarrassed in front of a commanding officer before, even though you’d fainted in front of one during a basic training run.

There was a heavy sigh. “Christ, ‘m not gonna fuckin’ bite ya.”

“Soap told me you would,” you quipped back.

Soap had warned you about the masked man—Ghost, he’d called him—and told you not to bother him much. “That’s my job,” he’d laughed. 

Right now, you felt like you were definitely bothering him.

“Figures,” he grumbled. 

You finally looked back up at Ghost, meeting his brown-eyed gaze for the first time since you’d entered the room. He looked at you with curiosity, not malice; somehow, that made you feel a little better, even if it still made your heart race and your palms sweat. 

“I just—I can’t stop thinking,” you blurted out, finally responding to the question he’d asked when you’d opened the door with a solid answer beyond your meek “no.” 

“I get nightmares.”

It felt like a confession, and you pulled out the chair, cringing when it squeaked across the linoleum floor. You sat down to hear more, crossing your arms on the table and resting your chin on them. Ghost’s eyes tracked your movements, even as he took another leisurely sip from his mug. Now that you were closer, you could smell that its contents weren’t coffee, but tea, the herbal notes reaching your nose. 

Before you thought better of it, words rushed out of your mouth. “It’s stupid, but when my insomnia is really bad—like it is now—I call my best friend and ask them to read to me. I’d do it now, but they’re at work.” You shrugged your shoulders. “Gotta love the time difference.”

Ghost shook his head. “Tha’s not stupid at all.” He took a long drink from his mug and set it down. “Whatever works. I jus’ make myself a cuppa, then see what happens.”

“And what’s happening next?” you probed.

He nudged his thumb against the mug and tilted his head. “I think ‘m gonna try reading.”

“Y’all keep books in the kitchen?” you teased.

“Hell no,” Ghost scoffed. “Did’ya bring any wi’you?” he asked.

You pursed your lips and squinted as you thought. “I think I brought Pride and Prejudice with me. I told myself I’d start rereading it since the plane ride over here was the perfect opportunity…but I fell asleep.” You sat up and smiled at him. “Why do you ask?”

He shifted in his seat and his hood fell, revealing short hair and red-tinged ears. “Could I read a bit of it?”

You blinked, a bit stunned at his shy question. Ghost, a man with a taste for Jane Austen? Something about a man like him wanting to read a period romance novel lit a tiny fire in your chest.

“Um, sure.” You stood and took a few steps, pointing at the door. “I can go grab it—”

“No, no, I’ll go wi’you, save you the trip back, yeah?” He rushed to his feet, and you stopped in your tracks at his side, gulping at the way he towered over you. 

“If you say so, Lieutenant.”

“Ghost,” he nodded.

“Ghost,” you repeated with a soft smile, leading him to the door.

The walk to your room was silent except for your footsteps tapping on the floor; his boots and your crocs mixing into a twilight harmony. Ghost kept up behind you. Your cheeks burned at the thought of him seeing you in your ratty sweats and shirt and crocs—fucking crocs—as you finally reached your door. You fumbled with your keys, swearing under your breath.

You unlocked the door and hurried across the room to flick on the lamp at your bedside. Ghost closed the door, then loomed over you as you crouched down and rummaged through your backpack. You hummed in triumph when you finally pulled out the beat-up and well-loved book, turning and reaching up to hand it to him. You stood and sat on the edge of your bed, expecting him to leave. Instead, he pulled the chair from the desk across the bed over to your bedside, settling in as he read the back cover. You were suddenly aware of his musky, amber scent because of the short distance, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t feel inviting, much unlike the person it clung to.

“Making sure you like it?” you asked with a nervous chuckle.

“Do you like it, love?” Ghost’s eyes flitted up to meet yours.

The pet name and Ghost’s suddenly soft voice caught you off guard. You reminded yourself it wasn’t personal, that it was a common British thing, that he didn’t mean anything by it, that it was colloquial. It didn’t feel bad or gross—it felt like a warm hug, a gentle kiss on the forehead, a thumb softly stroking across your cheek. 

You swallowed and dug your nails into the mattress. “Yeah, yeah! I’ve—I’ve read it, like, twice now.” You silently cursed yourself for stumbling over your words.

He nodded. “Have you ever listened to someone read it?”

“No,” you answered hesitantly.

“Would you like to?”

You nearly choked on your breath. You couldn’t stop your eyes from widening and your lips from parting. Having Ghost read to you would be absolutely unreal—his voice was strangely soothing, washing over you with a gentleness you didn’t think he’d be capable of. And yet, here he sat, staring you down as his thumb stroked the front cover of one of your favorite books, his offer dangling in the air.

“You said being read to helps you fall asleep,” he continued. “You’re gonna need the sleep to handle Price’s brief, I promise you that, love.”

“I mean, yeah,” you replied. “But I don’t want you to think you have to or need to. I’m a big girl, I can force myself to fall asleep if you say Price is really that bad.”

Ghost shook his head. “Nah, I want to.” He reached for the lamp and jerked his head at you. “Get settled, love. You can still get a decent amount’a sleep in.”

“What will you do?” you asked as he dimmed the light.

“Me?” he shrugged as you lay down. “I’ll live.”

“Then I should stay up too.”

“No, sleep. That’s an order,” he said, the command stern yet playful and stoking the fire in your chest. You swore he winked at you, but it could’ve been a trick of the light. 

“Fine,” you huffed. You closed your eyes so you could focus on the silky tones of his voice.

“Now then,” he cleared his throat. “Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen.”

You smirked. “Off to a great start already, Ghost.”

There was a low chuckle. You smiled, hoping he was looking at the page, but also secretly hoping he was looking at you. Maybe he was, but you could already feel your mind relaxing even though he’d only read the title. There was something in your gut telling you that Ghost was softer than he seemed. The imposing, threatening lieutenant was just a man that enjoyed tea and struggled with insomnia—and apparently, he was a bit of a softie underneath his vest and mask.

As he read, you began to let your mind drift off into dreamland, lulled by Ghost’s dulcet tones and the way he tried to engage with the text, varying his intonation and even chuckling at some of the dialogue and sentences. If he truly didn’t care, you couldn’t tell; he seemed to get more wrapped up in the book the more he read. 

“..but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, and noble mien, and—”

“Hm, like you,” you mumbled to your pillow, thinking of Ghost.

There was a pause, then he continued, sounding amused. He probably hadn’t heard you. He was probably just smirking at the next sentence about Darcy’s money, not your sleepy comment. You yawned, your eyes heavy and brain finally quiet enough for sleep to overtake you right as Darcy commented on Elizabeth’s appearance, Austen establishing their complicated and dramatic love-hate relationship.

Ghost wouldn’t tell you he’d blushed at your comment. That would be his sleepy secret.

masterlist | taglist

taglist: @tizylish @dheet @sinfulsalutations @oliviagreenaway @johfaam0 @sofasoap @nickangel13

[nymphpens]

Mr. Wickham talking about Mr. Darcy after eloping with his teenage sister for money:

[alovesongtheywrote]

Nightmare Academia P.5 | Spencer Reid x Reader

♥ Summary:  the prank war continues- you steal spencer's mugs, he uses one of your worst fears against you, and you're both dicks to each other [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: reader makes a mean comment about spencer being fatherless, spencer picks at the reader's insecurities- y'know, normal fare. also, spiders. ALSO, MENTIONS OF THAT RABIES EPISODE FROM SEASON 9.

♥ A/N: i know this has been mindless shenanigans so far, but the next few chapters will contain hints of plot, i promise

♥ Word Count: 1525

Series Masterlist

You didn’t have to send the typewriter in again.  For the most part, this was a good thing- it meant that Reid was no longer torturing his students by making them write their notes and assignments by hand.  It meant that your students were no longer lingering on the edge of collapse.  It meant that the student body was dealing with healthy levels of stress.

It also meant you’d lost your main method for bothering Reid.

While you wouldn’t complain about Reid going pro-tech (or at least tech-neutral) it did mean that you couldn’t send the typewriter to Reid’s classes without being a massive bitch.  Before, when he had been tormenting his students, the annoying click of the typewriter had been a punishment.  It was all fair game.  

Now, you would have to find something more creative.  You would have to get crafty- punishing Reid for his various slights against you whilst being annoying, but not disruptive.  

So.  You decided to steal his mugs.

The idea crept over you like a bug, wiggling into you until you just had to do it.  So, you did.  You waited until he was teaching, and you snuck into his office.  The lock on the door was university regulation- and therefore, it was easy enough to bypass with a lockpick and the tiniest bit of skill.

Like that, you were in- and you were overcome with the realization that this was the first time you had ever really been in Reid’s office.  He’d been to yours plenty of times, he was the one who dropped off the typewriter after every class, but you never had a reason to come to his office.

At least, you hadn’t had a reason until now.

You were surprised by how familiar the space was.  It was warmly lit, filled with books and various trinkets.  The walls were covered with his doctorates and degrees.  Mathematics, Chemistry, Engineering, Psychology, Sociology- fuck that guy for being smarter than you.

You didn’t have time to dwell on that, though.  You were on a mission.  A mug-related mission.  

You searched the office, looking through drawers and swinging open cabinets until you found what you were looking for.  Behind Spencer’s desk inside a small cabinet, they sat- mugs.  Honestly, the sheer number of mugs tucked into such a small space was kind of impressive.  You certainly had options.

Eventually, you selected a dark blue mug designed to look like the TARDIS.  That was cute.  You did your best not to find it too endearing.  You promised yourself that you wouldn’t find anything in that office endearing.

And then, upon standing, you immediately broke that promise.

On top of the cabinet that stored all his mugs was a copy of Pride and Prejudice.  Your fingers brushed across the cover.  That alone was enough to charm you, but then you noticed, beneath the book- an article.  An analysis of Pride and Prejudice.  You would know the words on those pages anywhere.  You wrote that article.  

You felt heat building beneath your skin as a blush crawled up to your face.  You pulled away from the book as if it had burned you.  Kicking the cabinet door closed, you collected the mug in your hands, and you raced from the room as fast as you possibly could.

-

Reid enacted his vengeance swiftly.

Clearly, he was still in contact with that FBI tech girl of his- and CLEARLY, she was less of a tech girl and more of a mind reader, because she somehow found out about your phobia of spiders, and then she told Reid about it.

You knew all of this because one morning, you walked into your office to find a mug sitting innocently on your desk.  Inside of it, a rubber spider.  You, however, didn’t know it was rubber.  

You had spent the night before grading assignments, helping your GED students edit their papers, and crying over a really cute baby goat.  Needless to say, you were sleep-deprived- and it was in this sleep-deprived state that you flung the mug at the wall on instinct because you thought there was a spider inside of it.

Luckily, Reid, in his infinite wisdom, had predicted that this would be a possibility- or you assumed he had.  The mug was a tough thing, and flinging it at the wall hadn’t even put a chip in it.  The fake spider was also fine (which was good, because if it had been alive, and you had killed it, you probably would’ve cried again).

Once your racing heartbeat had returned to normal, you tried to calm down by grabbing one of your actual mugs from its actual place in a large drawer beneath your desk.

A fake spider sprung out at you the second you opened the thing.

You screamed, slapping the fake creature right off of its mechanism and across the room.  Once you were done having a teeny tiny panic attack over that, you took a closer look at your mug drawer.  Reid had put his engineering degree to good use, rigging up a mechanism that would let the fake arachnid jump at you once you’d triggered it by opening the door.  You were pissed- and a little bit impressed- but mostly pissed.

The last straw was the actual spider on your ceiling.  It wasn’t put there by Reid, but you still blamed him for it.  Once the little critter was gently placed outside, you stormed off to Reid’s office.  You didn’t care that it was the first thing in the morning, nor did you care that you had a class starting in a few minutes.  The only thing on your mind was Spencer Reid, and the many ways you could insult him.

You practically kicked open his office door, hitting maximum rage as you stormed inside “You DEEPLy UNFABULOUS POOL NOODLE.”

“Good morning, Dr. (L/N).  Sleep well?”

“No.  Fuck you for asking.  Fuck you even more for the SPIDER in the MUG.”

Spencer didn’t even look up from the paperwork on his desk, “At least it was fake.  The bacteria colonies that are currently gathering in my mug are very real.”

“Oh, come on, Reid.  I’m not using it.  I have some decorum.”

He flipped a page, “I find that hard to believe.  So, what kept you up, (L/N)?  Crippling self-doubt?  The crushing weight of reality and your inability to find a place in it?”

You brushed off the self-doubt comment.  He couldn’t know that was half of what kept you up grading papers so late.  

“Oh, baby, I know my place in it- it’s twofold.  I’m here to be dumb and annoy your terrible self,” you walked over and pushed all his papers to the side just enough for you to take a seat, “And I’m all out of dumb to be.”

Finally, Spencer looked up at you, “So here you are.  Y’know, insecurity doesn’t look good on you.”

“And fatherless behaviour doesn’t look good on you, yet here we are.  ANYWAY, my special little science boy, I am here to inform you that you’re gonna need to get more mugs.  Why?  Because I’m going to take everything you have, and I will leave you with nothing.  It won’t be today, nor will it be tomorrow, but one day you’ll come into work to face the most terrifying of all the Earth’s horrors- a lack of mugs.”

He paused, lips parted slightly as his eyes danced up and down your face.  Honestly, he probably would’ve been more upset about the fatherless comment if you hadn’t followed it up with such a monologue.  Now he just felt the need to one-up you.

He’d heard somewhere that less is more.

“Actually, the most terrifying of all Earth’s horrors is probably rabies.  Y’know, the BAU once had a case where a serial killer forcibly infected his victims with the disease in order to kill them.”

“Excuse me?”

The pure horror in your voice was delightful.  Spencer looked down to his wrist where his watch lay over his cardigan.  Of course, he already knew the time- he just didn’t want you to see the massive grin on his face, “Oh, shoot.  I have a class to teach.  Help yourself to the mugs, Doctor.  I hope you like arachnids in yours.”  

You sat in shock as Spencer grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder.

“Wait, Reid, I’m still on the rabies thing-”

“Bye, (Y/N).”

“‘Bye?’  The fuck do you mean ‘bye?’  Get back here and explain the rabies thing!”

He did not get back there and explain the rabies thing.  He just left you in his office with the terror of rabies hanging over your head.  Moving quickly, you stole your mug of the day and left.  That evening, while Reid was revelling in his temporary victory, you made a call that you never thought you would make.

“Hi, is this Derek Morgan?  Yeah, I’m a criminal justice student,” you lied, “I just had some questions about a case of yours involving rabies?”

Reid would rue the day he brought up the rabies thing- on that, you and SSA Morgan agreed.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

John Price x Journalist Reader

Gaz conducts a plan to set his Captain back up with an old flame of his. He'd hoped to recruit help from Laswell. However, the CIA operative wasn't as optimistic about this whole "reunion" as the Sergeant.

Fluff, Banter, Light Reading, Sappy Romance, One That Got Away Trope, Setting up Dates, Gaz just being an inquisitive sort, slight Character Study on Price

WC: 1.5k~

Prelude | Chapter One | Chapter Three

Masterlist

So I'm sorry to say that Price and the Reader are not in this chapter, as it is centered around Gaz and Laswell.

However, Price and the Reader are the topic matter of the entire chapter. I'm legit trying to tell a story versus it being kinda self-indulgent and smutty like my other stuff. However, we'll get there at some point, maybe 😏

Please Enjoy!

Chapter Two

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Kyle."

Gaz gives Laswell a slack-jaw look, though it does little to sway the CIA operative on her stance -- this was just something she would not involve herself with.

Of course, the Sergeant hadn't been content with a simple no. In fact, all day he's been at Laswell's side, his presence just around every corner, lingering a little longer each time. Anything in the hopes of finally convincing her to see some worth to what he was trying to suggest. After all, this plan wouldn't work without her.

Or... at least, he'd have to come up with something new if this didn't pan out, and that felt like more work than this. Though thus far, convincing her has only been an uphill battle.

"Oh, come on Kate," Gaz begins to whine, rather childishly, brown eyes growing deceptively puppy dog-like, a hidden talent of his, or rather a subliminal quirk. "You're telling me you can't help at all?"

Laswell sets her fork down beside her salad, knowing she wouldn't be able to eat how she'd like with the Sergeant still seated in her office. The woman had hoped she'd finally escaped him on her lunch break; the building was usually dead at this hour, seeing as the others were off contending to their own devices.

It had been the perfect timing to finally have a proper sit-down if you asked Gaz.

"I mean, really think about it," Gaz tries to explain his plan to the woman one more time. "We just throw a small little get-together, nothin' too fancy. All you'd be doin' is hosting, which is nothin' new for you. Then, we just invite them both over and simply... let things play out. Easy."

"Except you would be blindsiding them," Laswell says.

"Not blindsiding," Gaz retorts. "More like... surprising them. Look, it'd be doin' 'em both a favor I'm sure, yeah?"

"Look, it's not that I don't want to," she starts. "I just know it's a lost cause. Think of this as me trying to save you some time."

"Sheesh," he sighs. "That bad then, huh?"

"And then some, Kyle."

Kate gets back to eating the croutons she'd been picking through her salad for. She didn't want to ask when it was that Gaz would be leaving, however, she wouldn't complain if he did.

Gaz continued to leisurely spin in the spare rolling chair in Kate's office, sighing to himself in contemplative thought.

That bad and then some, huh? He thought. Gaz struggled to imagine a scenario where such animosity could exist between someone and the Captain. And yet this supposed relationship between him and you had existed, and the Sergeant couldn't be more intrigued by it.

"Well, what happened?"

"She cheated on him."

Gaz's mouth goes agape, his tone completely defeated. "No... really?"

Kate smirks. "No."

Laswell laughs to herself once she sees the sigh of relief the Sergeant releases. The woman's career revolved around secrets and lies. It figures her idea of fun would be pulling the Sergeant's leg.

Of course, the man's a good sport about it, chuckling to himself once he realizes it's a joke. For a second there, he really thought this had all been a waste of time.

"Seriously though," he says. "What happened?"

"To be honest with you, I still don't know," Kate admits. "Neither of them felt too up to talking about it when it happened. I just know that some kind of argument occurred, and they split up the following day. But I don't want to be the one to air out the Captain's dirty laundry, Kyle."

Laswell sinks back in her seat, thinking back on those days after the split. She had seen war slowly harden Price over the years, as it had done to all of them. For a while, he went through great efforts to try and keep a healthy work balance between that and his personal life.

Losing you had made something in him turn to stone, however. As though some other part of him had died, made up abundantly clear by the increase of his work. More eager to take assignments, less so to be home. Ops that had him away for months at a time became his favorite, and when those ops had finished, he went out to find more.

And by the time he'd become Captain, that time with his former lover merely became a bedtime lullaby for him, growing fainter by the years. No one ever really heard him talk about love again. Not until Gaz brought it up.

"So who was she anyway?" he asks. "Price said she was a friend of yours."

Kate chuckles to herself, seeing how observant the Sergeant had been in his conversation with the Captain. "That's right," she confirms. "A family friend."

"What was she like?"

"She was... is... a very interesting woman, to say the least," Kate sighs. "I can't really describe her; she was a lot of things."

"Not even a little?"

Kate thinks to herself for a moment, having gone through all the croutons in her salad now. "She was definitely a firecracker, always getting into some kind of trouble. She spoke her mind freely too. It didn't matter what it was; if a thought crossed her mind, at some point, you'd hear about it."

"Hmm," Gaz grins. "I don't know if that's what I was picturing. But, I guess I can see the vision."

"I was just as surprised," Kate says. "But... they stayed together for a long time. Six years, if I'm not mistaken."

Gaz's eyes grow wide at that fact. Longer than any relationship the Sergeant's ever been in. Though, it hadn't been for a lack of trying. Six years. That's not just enough time to know someone, that's enough time to be another half of them, at that point. Not a lifelong love, but someone who did once matter.

"So who shit the bed?"

"That would be John." Kate didn't even have to think about that one.

Gaz shrugs, having not been too surprised by that answer.

However, she then adds only seconds later, "Though... it's complicated."

"How so?"

"From my understanding, it hadn't just been an argument," Laswell says. "Honestly, I'd almost say life is what ended their relationship."

“And you really think she wouldn’t want to see him again?” he asks.

Kate pauses, short of an answer for a moment. It gives Gaz the drive to keep looking her in the eyes and pressing the matter.

"Why do you want this so bad?" she asks. No doubt, she'd been curious as to what it was that was driving Kyle to go into full investigation mode about this.

The man pauses, trying to come up with the right words to say, as he already knew his answer from the start.

Kyle thinks back on the Captain, and all the times he's seen him alone while the others had each other, wanting to be content with that. Adoring their love from afar, so he'd have something to warm him on his lonesome way home.

He thinks about that look Price had on his face the other day when he finally told him about this mysterious woman for the first time. As though he couldn't wait to talk about her again, given the opportunity.

"I just think it would be good for him."

Kate's expression softens at the Sergeant's words. Understanding that want he held to be there for Price. She's been there herself, many times before. And it makes her wonder.

She’s moved passed her matchmaking days, having tried to find Price a good match since she’s known him. Gaz’s determination to take up the mantle had been admirable to see, however.

The woman sighs, having finally been broken down by Kyle's stubbornness to not drop the subject.

“Look, I can help,” she says. “But if this backfires, I’m leaving damage control to you.”

Gaz practically jumps in his seat.

“Deal!”

Chapter Three Here!

I wanted this to be both character and plot development, so I can set up where this story is going.

The next chapter jumps back to 10 years ago, maybe a day or so after the last chapter. Price and Reader are going to have yet another cute encounter. It will be much longer than this chapter, hopefully. Stay Tuned!

~Also, I'm quoting a poem from Charlotte Erikkson - You're Doing Just Fine. I was gonna credit them at the end of the series, but I just wanted you to know so it didn't look like I was stealing their quotes!

@embers-of-alluring @quincessimus @urfavsunkissedleo @lacunaanonymoused @deadbranch @poohkie90 @glitterypirateduck @homicidal-slvt @random-thot-generator

If you don't wanna be tagged, please let me know! And on the flip, if you do want to be tagged for the next chapter, also please let me know! I feel super awkward tagging people unless they explicitly state it (I don't like to impose, I just wanted to tag people I thought were interested in the next chapter 😭)

dividers from animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[agendabymooner]

pride & pettiness || jb22 series (1)

jenson button x ofc (british actress!ofc)

EXTENSION TO THE MR. DARCY TYPE (SMAU)

Summary: Ada James Abbott was an actress first and a writer second, but it seems like meeting a certain Jenson Button added more to her title as she learned to love and list down the most significant moments of her life with him.

OR her book, Mr. Driver, consisted of diary entries and memories that Ada remembered still to this day. These are the contents of the journals.

Content warning: Use of explicit language, Pride & Prejudice references, email exchanges, journal entries + scenarios (per time skip), fluff, yearning, Mr. Darcy & Lizzie Bennet dynamic (with a bit more humour and less aloofness), strangers to situationship to lovers??

Note: I’ve been talking to @daaiissyyyyy about sharing this thing because I have kept it in my drafts for a while. This may not continue or may continue but enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

i. 2004 In which, Ada and Jenson met for the first time. Also when the British actress found him attractive until he started talking.

JOURNAL ENTRY 1: SILVERSTONE 2004 — MR. HONDA DRIVER IS A HANDSOME GIT

I thought Hugh Dancy was the most attractive and insufferable man to have ever existed. But then my manager generously forced me to attend a race in Silverstone that eventually led me to some man named Jenson Button. He graced the grid with his boyish smile and his trademark charm that made me wonder if girls had ever fallen to their knees to be with him. 

But his charm was arrogance in disguise. Who would have thought that a man so handsome could be stupid enough to downplay a stranger’s ability? Especially if he hadn’t seen enough of what I do? He doesn’t even know who I am and I don’t think that he is ever interested to know— but his jokes said otherwise. The endless flirting wasn’t the only thing that had my face flushing. 

I probably overthink his jokes and had taken it to heart. But I can’t be blamed for that. He’s just attractive and I thought that he had potential. Then again, I shouldn’t expect too much from men. 

SILVERSTONE, ENGLAND

Martin Brundle and his Grid Walk was the best part of the race; each celebrity or guest who graced the race with their presence loved having a conversation with him. 

Ada James Abbott’s experience, however, was something of a memorable one. After all, meeting the most handsome man to have ever existed happened there. Live on the telly with his stupid attractive smile. 

“The movie, King Arthur, is in its first box office week. You happened to play Guinevere,” Martin pointed out, making Ada nod and grin.

She stood next to him with all the smiles that she could offer — just happy to be recognized by someone in this industry of sports. The former driver then continued, “And you’re here in the grid now to spectate and enjoy the race— do tell: why were you not here the last time when the Pirates of the Caribbean movie came out? We were anticipating your appearance as you have obviously played the role of Elizabeth Swann. I was hoping to tell you more about what I thought of it.”

Ada giggled quietly before answering, “The schedule was quite tight during that time with having to go to tours and promote the film and filming other works in progress. We can absolutely discuss what you think but I do not think that it’ll be something that everyone would like to hear about on such a busy day!” 

“Are you a fan of Formula One?” The reporter asked, a glint of curiosity washing through his features as he waited for the British actress to answer. 

Ada then hummed, “It used to be something I watched. My father tried to rope me into watching it with him before, but it seemed to be only effective for my brothers Ralph and Nathan. I would watch at least… a race every month. It’s- yeah- it’s not something I would watch by myself so being here now and watching the real thing is an experience my dad would kill to see firsthand.” 

“And you’ve met the drivers from the team you happened to be a guest in?” 

“I did,” Ada replied with a nod, “David Coulthard, or DC— he insisted that I call him that— is a lovely man. He ran through the basics of his car and obviously had put up with my lack of knowledge in the technical aspects of the race. Kimi Raikkönen is a rather reserved one, and we’d obviously have to work on our relationship because of the lack of communication. Otherwise, it is amazing! I’m quite fortunate to be at the McLaren gar—“

“Would you look at that beauty!” Ada turned towards the direction of the voice and found herself staring at the facial features of the speaker. 

A handsome man, he was. 

“I think that you are speaking about yourself, Jenson,” Martin joked as ‘Jenson’ approached the two, now standing next to Ada as her face flushed red. “That head of yours would make the car lose its balance.” 

“I didn’t say anything about myself,” Jenson scoffed playfully before peering down at Ada with a… smirk.

Ada lost all of her senses as Jenson began to speak, “‘Sides, if anything— this pretty face would make me lose my balance.” 

“I assume that you’ve seen Ada James Abbott before,” Martin piped up, making Ada glance at the man and shift back to look at him.

She wasn’t able to see the handsome man, Jenson, next to her, but she could remember how the upper part of his race suit hung from his waist and how his eyes lingered on her. 

What she wasn’t able to see however was the shaking of his head. Martin then continued to speak, “She’s quite an amazing actress, Jenson.”

“Is she really?” This comment had Ada turning as she looked at Jenson, whose smirk continued to grow while he spoke. “I’d believe any lie that you would tell me, especially if I’m being graced with your beauty.”

“What is that supposed to mean, exactly?” Ada spewed out, slightly baffled as he laughed heartily. 

“I’m just saying,” Jenson winked at her, “I’ll believe it when I see a trophy, darling.” 

With one comment, all the butterflies in her stomach had turned into something more sour. Ada Abbott’s smile turned strained as she only nodded before looking back at Martin Brundle. She wasn’t about to give this man the time of day right now. Perhaps he’d have to either retract his words or at least act like he just insulted her on live television instead of joking around like nothing happened. 

JOURNAL ENTRY 2: EAT YOUR OWN WORDS, MR. HONDA DRIVER.

I just won my third trophy of the year. It’s quite amazing. But there’s something wonderful about making Jenson Button eat his own words. It was probably my pride that asked for his email address but sending him an image felt nothing of malice but satisfaction. God, did it feel so good. 

TO BE CONTINUED

[maluceh]

That painel was AMAZING, thank you thank you thank you! ❤️

Sorry for missing a few references, could you share a list of all the universes?

damn ok… ummm (from top left to right and so on with every row)

brooklyn nine nine (amy and jake)

morticia and gomez

modern family (claire and phil)

tangled

they’re just drinking chescos in this one

band au

i got lazy so kissy time

dinosaurs

the last of us au

game of thrones au

10 things i hate about you

celebrity au but i tried to do the cinderella concept art cause 50s

old people

slasher

sapphic jily victorian era

mexican folklore dancers

i got lazy again and i just sketched them as spooky cartoons

deleted scene from dead poets society but it’s not them as dps characters, i just wanted a snowy scene

barbie

pirates of the caribbean

anne with an e

legos

elevator love song by BeeDaily (it’s a fic)

cowboy au

how to train your dragon (astrid and hiccup)

percy jackson (them as percabeth)

sapphic jily in the 14th? 15th? century with princess jamie and her loyal guard lily

this is just a kids drawing so you can interpret it as you want (harry drew it or little james or little lily)

vampire au

couple selfie!

sapphic jily with a reference to glee (the cheerleader uniform). so this one is kind of like cheerleader x outcast type of thing

pride and prejudice au (bingley and jane)

set it up (it’s a movie on netflix)

rocks

greys anatomy au (them as mark and lexi)

role swap (quidditch player lily/muggleborn james)

ice skater couple au

juno (reference to the intro credits from the movie where there’s like drawings and stuff, i thought it would be cool idk)

the office (them as jim and pam)

haikyuu (tanaka and kiyoko are literally jily in another font)

patronuses

genderswap jily

romeo and juliet (2013)

before sunrise (1995)

titanic movie

ferris bullers day off (i think they fit sloane and ferris A LOT)

friends (chandler and monica)

maurice (1987)

detectives au (i tried to emulate 1940s drawings but alas i’m only a girl)

mermaid au

mlm jily as Pedro Infante and Jorge Negrete I BELIEVE this is Dos tipos de cuidado (1953) i wanted to draw them as homoerotic mexican actors from the golden age of mexican cinema

canon jily

sapphic jily in bly manor (as dani and jamie)

animal crossing jily

big fish (2003)

sapphic jily as pirates who got caught

idk i took it from a pinterest pic

shadowhunters jily

fantasy jily (?

sapphic jily kissing at sunset

worms

idk what movie this is, i wanted to draw them as silent actors from the 1930s i also tried to use the same art style they used in that era but alas i’m just a girl

widow victorian lily and ghost james (this is a direct reference to Anders Zorn the widow 1883 i believe)

how to lose a guy in 10 days au

shadow and bone au (them as nina and matthias)

ballet dancers au

romeo and juliet AGAIN (1996 tho)

anastasia (1997)

the princess diaries 2 (them as Mia and nicholas)

them with a cat (it’s algernon, the cat is algernon by the way)

spiderman (itsv spider-man to be exact)

i got lazy again and i just doodled them listening to music together

ants

genderswaped jily as emma and mr. knightley (2020)

mamma mia (2008) (love that movie, sophie and sky made me the bisexual i am with that one beach scene)

the hunger games mockingjay part 2 (them as katniss and peeta)

hogwarts professors

coworker rivals

mlm jily but at hogwarts

sapphic jily just vibing (heartstopper vibes??? idk i put the leaves)

shelf awarness by GhostofBambi on ao3 (one of my favorite jily fics)

and that’s it

[best-tv-theme-song]

Round 1 is over, full results below!

Round 2 will start on Monday.

What are your most devastating losses this round?? Mine are Milo Murphy's Law, Gilmore Girls, That 70s Show, and Reba. (No respect around here for a single mom who works too hard who loves her kids and never stops)

Group A

The Addams Family vs. Fairy Tail

Sagwa, the Chinese Siamese Cat vs. Goosebumps

Wizards of Waverly Place (S1-3) vs. Ed, Edd n Eddy

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood vs. Only Murders in the Building

The Backyardigans vs. Downton Abbey

Naruto vs. The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy

Dexter's Laboratory vs. Kenan & Kel

Parks and Recreation vs. Jujutsu Kaisen

Danny Phantom vs. Pippi Longstocking/Pippi Långstrump

My Life as a Teenage Robot vs. My Hero Academia

Sabrina the Teenage Witch vs. Star Trek: Deep Space Nine (S4-7)

Little Einsteins vs. The Benny Hill Show

Teletubbies vs. Ted Lasso

VeggieTales vs. Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

Lizzie McGuire vs. The Proud Family

Steven Universe (Original Theme) vs. The A-Team

Group B

Doctor Who (New S1-2) vs. Charlie's Angels

Thomas & Friends vs. Bob's Burgers

Community vs. The Brady Bunch

Adventure Time vs. Ever After High

Seinfeld vs. Ranma ½

Batman vs. Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Monty Python's Flying Circus vs. One Piece (2023)

Friends vs. Rocko's Modern Life

Sesame Street (S1-23) vs. Saved by the Bell

Total Drama vs. Monk

Full House vs. Winx Club (We Are the Winx)

Looney Tunes vs. Murder, She Wrote

M*A*S*H vs. South Park

Pinky and the Brain vs. Happy Days

One Day at a Time (2017) vs. The Suite Life on Deck

Pokémon (Pokémon Theme) vs. The Andy Griffith Show

Group C

Gravity Falls vs. Milo Murphy's Law

Horrible Histories vs. Leverage

Neon Genesis Evangelion vs. Chip 'n Dale: Rescue Rangers

The Simpsons vs. Samurai Jack

The Golden Girls vs. Wonder Pets!

Merlin vs. El Chavo del Ocho

Victorious vs. CSI: Miami

My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic vs. Smallville

Good Omens vs. Good Luck Charlie

House, M.D. vs. Pride and Prejudice

LazyTown vs. The Big Bang Theory

Bob the Builder vs. Wild Kratts

New Girl vs. Infinity Train

Arthur vs. I Love Lucy

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles vs. The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh

The X-Files vs. Pucca

Group D

The Fairly OddParents vs. X-Men: The Animated Series

Sherlock vs. Monster High

Spider-Man vs. Revolutionary Girl Utena

Orange Is the New Black vs. Hunter × Hunter

The Office vs. Angel: The Series

Law & Order (SVU) vs. Arcane: League of Legends

BoJack Horseman vs. Wonder Woman

Jeopardy! vs. Where in the World Is Carmen Sandiego?

The Suite Life of Zack and Cody vs. Taskmaster

Totally Spies! vs. Yellowjackets

It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia vs. Ouran High School Host Club (Japanese)

Yuri on Ice vs. Samurai Champloo

Ducktales (1987) vs. Charmed

Mister Rogers' Neighborhood vs. Shaun the Sheep

How It's Made vs. Tokyo Ghoul

Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! vs. The Emperor's New School

Group E

Kim Possible vs. Once Upon a Time

The Great British Bake Off vs. The Legend of Vox Machina

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power vs. Gilmore Girls

Animaniacs vs. Pretty Little Liars

Zoboomafoo vs. Who Wants to Be a Millionaire

The Umbrella Academy vs. The Muppet Show

WandaVision (A Newlywed Couple/Ep 1) vs. NCIS

Reading Rainbow (1983-1999) vs. Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Hannah Montana (S1-2) vs. Gilligan's Island

The Mandalorian vs. Dragon Ball Z (Cha-La Head-Cha-La)

What We Do in the Shadows vs. Inspector Gadget

Big Time Rush vs. Barney & Friends

Power Rangers (Mighty Morphin) vs. Young Justice

Futurama vs. Spy × Family

Succession vs. Bluey

iCarly vs. Code Lyoko

Group F

The Magic School Bus vs. Jackie Chan Adventures

Digimon Adventure (Butter-Fly) vs. The Last of Us

Star Trek: The Next Generation (S3-7) vs. Soul Eater

Zoey 101 vs. Xena: Warrior Princess

Dora the Explorer vs. We Bare Bears

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend vs. Carmen Sandiego (2019)

Star Trek: Enterprise (S1-2) vs. Mr. Bean

Sailor Moon (Japanese) vs. Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (S1-2) vs. Red Dwarf

Death Note vs. Phil of the Future

Yu-Gi-Oh! vs. El Chapulín Colorado

The Flintstones vs. His Dark Materials

Game of Thrones vs. Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure

The Nanny vs. Haikyu!!

Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends vs. Frasier

The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air vs. Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji

Group G

Bill Nye the Science Guy vs. The Facts of Life

George of the Jungle (1967) vs. Veronica Mars

H2O: Just Add Water (S1) vs. Star Trek: Voyager

Star Trek: The Original Series (With Vocal) vs. Hawaii Five-O

Drake & Josh vs. Fetch! with Ruff Ruffman

Puella Magi Madoka Magica vs. Cowboy Bebop (1998)

Lilo & Stitch: The Series vs. Torchwood

The Twilight Zone vs. Wander Over Yonder

Rugrats vs. Columbo

The Adventures of Jimmy Neutron, Boy Genius vs. The Walking Dead

Hey Arnold! vs. Psych

Twin Peaks vs. Voltron: Legendary Defender

Dragon Tales vs. How I Met Your Mother

Stranger Things vs. Mission: Impossible (1966)

W.I.T.C.H. vs. Daredevil

What's New, Scooby-Doo? vs. Tiny Toon Adventures

Group H

SpongeBob SquarePants vs. X-Men: Evolution

Fraggle Rock vs. Stargate SG-1

Firefly vs. Scrubs

Codename: Kids Next Door vs. Inuyasha (Change the World)

That '70s Show vs. Bear in the Big Blue House

Cheers vs. American Dragon: Jake Long

A Series of Unfortunate Events vs. Black Sails

The Powerpuff Girls vs. Darkwing Duck

That's So Raven vs. Grey's Anatomy

Ben 10 vs. JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

Cyberchase vs. Reba

Malcolm in the Middle vs. Shake It Up

Teen Titans (2003) vs. Mob Psycho 100

The Owl House vs. I Dream of Jeannie

Assassination Classroom (Question) vs. Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake

Phineas and Ferb vs. Batman Beyond/Batman of the Future