#Exam just hold me hostage

[cm-lily]

“I have something for you.”

“Oh, is this… Poppy flower?”

“Yes… I thought you like poppies? Do you not like it?”

“Oh I do! The flowers are nice, I really like it. It's just…” He sigh. “It just remind me of something.”

“Sorry….”

“It's fine, you didn't know. It's in the past anyway,” He assures, slipping the delicate flower between his ear. “I've grown to like it back.”

The person smiles, jagged teeth distorting his scarred face. “I see, I'm glad.”

#cm write #desert duo #third life #Hint of Taurtis #Yes I am alive and unwell #Exam just hold me hostage #Send help #Also every couple/duo who has poppy as their symbolism always end up dead #COINCIDENCE?

[crowsoundsonly]

dr. barnes

pair: fbi instructor!professor!bucky barnes x fem!student!reader

word count: ~6.5k

summary: you ask for some advice from your reclusive and very attractive professor.

warnings: teacher student relationship so slight age gap but i had pictured it being less than 10 years, super soft bucky, smut at the end (~1.3k), fingering (f rec) but not super descriptive, crime scene descriptions, descriptions of blood, some christian/religious references at the crime scenes, (let me know if i missed any !!)

a/n: this one held me hostage for weeks. i literally could not stop thinking about it. do i have uni exams this week? yes. but did i spend my time writing this? also yes. i hope you guys like it !!

“Explain the killer. What does he do? What motivates him? How would you catch him? A thousand words printed by the next class. Have a good weekend,” your professor, Dr. Barnes, announces with a nod, cueing the shuffling of laptops and bags belonging to FBI trainees eager to get home on a Friday afternoon.

You load up your things, your mind still thinking about the brutal crime scene photos shown on the slides of the lecture today that made your stomach turn over. While you know you have chosen to be at the FBI, you can’t help but wonder sometimes what you are doing there. Your degree in psychology and doctorate in criminology has led you to the FBI Academy, but your mind still swirls when the most horrible acts of violence are placed in front of you. You chalk it up to you retaining your humanity and sanity, so you are not exactly upset over the fact. It just makes your job more difficult.

Dr. Barnes’ class is always the most brutal, but it is by far the most fascinating class you have. It does help that your professor is the most fascinating part, being very good looking and extremely private. He shares very little personal information, telling you only that he used to work homicide at the police department before beginning teaching. You notice that he does not talk to students often, simply giving his lectures, packing up and leaving after the sea of students flood into the hallways.

You are curious about him, about what he is like when he is not lecturing, and figuring that you have little to lose, you decide to come back after your classes to ask for some help. 

…

“Dr. Barnes?” you call out as you step into the lecture hall that is still lit, leaving you to believe that someone is there. You take a few more steps and find your professor sitting at his desk, photos piled around, staring intently at the laptop in front of him. He makes no movement to acknowledge you, his focus completely locked onto his work.

You walk all the way up to his desk, repeating his name which does little to deter him. You reach a hand out and give his shoulder a slight squeeze, causing him to jump in his seat and look up at you, eyes wide. 

“Sorry, Dr. Barnes. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

At your words, he scans your face, recognition dawning on his features. 

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” he says quietly, his eyes focusing on the books you are holding in your hands. 

“It’s okay, Dr. Barnes,” you assure him.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he trails off a bit at the end of his question, asking for your name in its absence.

You fill in your name and explain, “I just have a question. I’m writing a paper for another class and was hoping that you could give me some insight on the topic. I’m really just looking for another perspective.”

“Of course,” he says as he leans back in his chair. There is not another chair, so you take to sitting on the edge of his desk.

“The paper is about female serial killers, and I was wondering what you think the most common traits and motives are. We have discussed some examples in class, but I wanted to ask what your experience has been.”

He thinks for a moment, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. “They usually work in health care professions. They’ll, um, they will be married or have been married before. They usually kill to improve their situation, so they’ll target people they know, usually men. But not all women,” he stops and looks up at you before continuing to explain a case he had while working homicide where they investigated a series of killings that followed the signs of a male killer but ended up being a woman. 

Dr. Barnes runs a hand through his hair when he finishes, leaning back in his chair. You can’t help but notice how good he looks in this position and at this angle. His dark hair tousled and glasses twirling between his thumbs, you think about how it would feel to reach out and feel his hair between your fingers. You school yourself, your face becoming hot at the idea. He is your professor, and you would do well to remember that. 

You continue the conversation, asking him questions and prodding for more insight. When you figure you have taken up enough of his time, you bow your head a bit and begin getting up from your place on the desk.

“Thank you for your help, Dr. Barnes. I really appreciate you taking the time.”

He nods in acknowledgment, a small smile adorning his lips which you watch perhaps a little too intently as he says. “It was nothing. I’m glad I could help.”

You begin walking toward the door of the lecture hall but are stopped by your name being called out.

“Would you actually mind taking a look at these pictures? I’d like to know what you see.”

You turn back around. The look on his face is one of curiosity. You wonder why he would want to ask you, and part of you wants to believe that it is because he wants you to stay, but you know better. 

“Sure,” you shrug, making your way back to his desk. “I’m not sure I’ll be of much help, though”

“Just take a look. It’s not a test, if that’s what you’re worried about,” your professor says, standing up to hand you the crime scene photos.

They are gruesome, but you don’t know what else you could have expected with Dr. Barnes. You examine them all the while trying to ignore the way he leans over your shoulder as you fail to concentrate. You are so close that if you took a single step back, you would be flush to him. 

Pushing those thoughts away, you focus your attention on the photos, flipping through them, noticing the odd blood splatter near the baseboard that doesn’t have a body laying anywhere near it. 

“What would make the killer climb on top of the counter to shoot someone, get down, and move the body?” you think out loud as you turn your head to look at Dr. Barnes. You notice how close your faces are and let out a breath at the discovery. “Dominance?” your voice is more shaky than you wanted it to sound.

“I was hoping you could tell me. My guess is they were waiting there, but it still doesn’t make sense,” he says, looking past you and to the picture you are holding. You look back down as well, grateful you did not make eye contact, the idea of the intimacy of it alarming.

“If they were standing on it, that would make sense, but the angle doesn’t really fit. It seems as if they were waiting for them to get home, and they sat, swinging their legs, completely calm and casual about shooting this person,” you pause, mulling over your words before saying, “Maybe they even knew this person. The proximity to the counter could mean that the victim was comfortable enough to approach them, and that the victim was unaware of what was going to happen.”

He hums in agreement in your ear, and a feeling of satisfaction washes over you. Turning back around, you hand the photos to your professor and take a step back. 

“I think you may be right,” he says with a nod, a small smile again creeping onto his features. You make eye contact and keep it, somewhat entranced by it.

“I’m glad I was able to help,” you smile. “Thanks again, Dr. Barnes. Have a good night.”

…

You anticipate going back to classes on Monday, knowing that you have to attend Dr. Barnes’ lecture. You don’t know if anything will be different after the night you spent talking to your professor. Part of you knows that nothing should be different. While there are only a few years between you, you are still his student.

But part of you wants things to be different. The entire weekend, you could not get out of your head the image of his face so close to yours or the sight of him as he leaned back in his chair, legs casually falling open. 

Dr. Barnes is not in the lecture hall when you arrive for which you are grateful. You settle into your seat and wait for the lecture to begin by fiddling with your laptop. When your professor does come in, you notice that he combed his hair today, letting it fall neatly over his forehead. The plaid shirt he wears still doesn’t match his suit, but you find it charming. He slips his glasses on and begins teaching.

The whole lecture you try valiantly to focus on the subject, but you fail rather miserably, unable to think of anything but how you stood right where he is, your back a foot away from his chest with him humming in your ear. It is going to be a long term if this is how every lecture is going to go.

You are brought back to reality when Dr. Barnes makes eye contact with you. He smiles which you quickly reciprocate, then he turns around, gesturing to the screen before anyone notices.

It is definitely going to be a long semester.

…

Weeks go on with you and Dr. Barnes smiling at each other from afar, both of you knowing that you would be playing with fire if you do anything more than smile. But the longer you go simply smiling, the more you want to do something about it.

And one day, he does something about it. On your way out of the lecture hall, Dr. Barnes stops you, calling out your name. You walk over, anticipation coiling in your stomach.

“I’ve another case I’d like your opinion on. Do you have time tonight to take a look?” he asks you quietly so as to not draw the attention of the students still exiting the room.

“Yes. Here at 7:30?”

He nods, making a flash of eye contact which you return with a smile. 

…

You make your way to Dr. Barnes’ lecture hall, your stomach roiling with nerves. You have thought too much about him, fantasized a little often for you to not think about it when you talk to him. The soles of your shoes click on the tile as you walk the hallway. You take a deep breath and open the door.

Dr. Barnes is reclined behind his desk, crime scene photos in his hand as he flips through them intently. At your entrance, his head flicks up to find your figure approaching his desk.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” he says as he stands up. 

“Hi, yeah. It’s – yeah it’s no problem, Dr. Barnes,” you manage to get out, tripping over your words more than you would have liked. Another deep breath to collect yourself. “What can I do to help?”

He leans against the front of his desk and reaches behind him to grab the photos he was examining before. You take a few steps closer to grab them from his outstretched hand.

“A recent set of murders. It’s odd to say the least,” he starts, watching you intently as you study the photos. 

The scene is horrifying, blood smeared across the walls, not as blood spray or splatter, but in an image. A lamb. Your mind spins as you look through more of the pictures, each of them showing blood splashed on the walls. You wonder what the killer did in order to get that much blood. There is too much for it to have come from just one body.

“How many people were found dead?”

“Only one,” he answers, leaning in to help you find the image of the body heaped over the table. You can’t help but notice everywhere his body touches yours, how his breath flutters against your neck, but you cast those thoughts away to focus on the case at hand.

“There had to have been more. There’s too much blood,” you mumble as you cart through the images again, counting as you go. A beat passes as you take in the scene, contemplating before constructing ideas.

“What do you see?”

“In ancient religious practices, a lamb would be sacrificed and the blood would be sprinkled around seven times. There are seven places where the blood was thrown on the wall,” you pause to show him each one. You glance up at your professor who is looking on intently, urging you to continue. “Then you have the body placed on the table. It could be sacrificial. The lamb was supposed to be perfect. Without blemish. Maybe – maybe the killer saw this person as their perfect – their perfect lamb, as someone who would put them in favor with God. The sacrificial lamb is sacramental. Symbolic. Messianic. It’s an act of repentance. So what was the killer repenting from?”

A hum from Dr. Barnes pulls you out of your reverie and breaks your focus from the crime scene photos. You lean around his form to place the pictures back on his desk, your shoulder brushing against his arm. His eyes follow you before he brings a hand up to rub his eyes, almost like he is physically rubbing away the images.

“Do you think the killer knew the victim?” he asks quietly, bringing his hands down to meet your eyes.

“I think they could be family. Family or close friends. They were their savior,” you answer, matching his tone.

Dr. Barnes nods in agreement and in that moment, you can see that he looks like a man who is carrying the world on his shoulders. He slouches forward slightly, his hair strewn around his ears with bags under his eyes. It takes everything in you to not reach out a hand to touch his cheek, to rub a thumb across his lips as you have in your dreams.

Appalled by your own thoughts, you take a step back to give yourself space to halt that train of thought. The movement makes him stand, subconsciously trying to keep the close proximity between you. You don’t break eye contact, making the moment intimate. Intense.

“This case has been keeping me up at night,” he confesses as he brings a hand to run through his hair with a sigh, breaking eye contact. “I wonder where the other bodies are. I can’t seem to get my mind around it.” 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” you say in nearly a whisper. “You’re good at what you do.”

“Thank you for your help. It’s some really great insight you had.”

“It’s no problem, Dr. Barnes.”

“Bucky,” he says quickly, rushing it out like he knows he shouldn’t let it pass his lips.

“Bucky,” you repeat, trying the name out on your tongue. 

You then fall into easy conversation, learning more about each other. You discover that Bucky has a PhD in criminology as well, and that he used to be a field agent but decided to leave it to become a teacher at the academy. Part of you wants to ask why, but you figure that it isn’t a conversation he wants to have while still getting to know you. He asks about your life, your family, your education. He is interested in why and how you landed at the academy. You answer him honestly, not inclined to hide away as you normally do when people ask those questions.

Bucky is surprisingly sociable. Based on his reclusiveness when it comes to students, you were not expecting to hold such easy and fun conversation. It makes you want to spend the whole night chatting, joking, exploring. But you know you should not stay. 

When the conversation lulls, you glance at your watch and ask, “Is there anything else I can do for you, Bucky? I think I might head home.”

Before you can even register what is happening, he takes a singular step forward and leans in to meet his lips to yours. In shock, you stand limply, not sure how to respond. You can’t deny that you have thought about this moment for weeks, dreaming about it, imagining what it would be like to kiss him. Bucky. But you hadn’t expected it to happen tonight.

And before you have time to respond, he pulls away, opening his eyes to look at you with wide ones of his own.

“I’m sorry, I–”

You don’t acknowledge his apology, instead leaning in to kiss him again, only you are prepared for it this time. He responds immediately as his lips move slowly over yours, testing the waters. Your hands are still by your sides, but his come to settle in your hair and over your arm. His kisses are controlled and soft, not pressing for more than what you are willing to give. A sigh flutters from your nose which ghosts over his cheeks.

Breaking away for a second, you open your eyes and find his already looking at you. The both of you know that you are playing with fire. You are still his student, and he is your professor, but the feeling of his lips on yours overrules any rational thought at the moment.

You give a slight nod and he takes that as a green light to kiss you again. Bucky pulls you closer, and your hands find their way around his torso, snaking up into his hair. It is his turn to sigh at the action which causes satisfaction to roll down your back in waves that has you leaning further into the kiss, opening your mouth ever so slightly. He takes advantage and kisses you deeper. A soft moan escapes you at the feeling, followed by a shaky breath.

He pulls away, a triumphant smile playing at his mouth. 

“I’m not sorry,” he whispers.

“Me neither.”

He kisses you once more, chaste and short, but it carries more meaning than any of the other kisses. It tells you that he has thought about this, too. It wasn’t a spur of the moment, impulsive decision. And it tells you that he plans on doing it again.

…

You settle into a routine with Bucky. After class on Fridays, he stops you on your way out and quietly asks you to come back to look over a case or his lectures. You always nod and come back at 7:30. 

The unspoken truth of the need for secrecy looms over your blooming relationship, but you are almost spurred on by the illicitness of it all. You haven’t done anything more than kiss. You haven’t even interacted beyond the walls of the lecture hall. You both know that it is safest that way. 

The more time you spend together, the more you find yourself falling in love with Bucky. His quirks make you smile. The way he perks up when you walk through the door makes your heart flutter in your chest. You have never felt so valued by anyone before. He trusts your opinions. He respects your honesty. You admire his dedication to what he does. You find his quiet nature calming. 

The list of things you love about Bucky keeps you up at night as you replay scenes of kissing at his desk behind your eyes as you fall asleep. Bucky kisses you like you are ice cream on a sunny day, slow and hungry like he savors every second of your mouth on his. He never presses you for more, only going so far as to set you up on his desk, pulling your hips to his, allowing you to wrap your legs around him as you wind your fingers in his hair. He always sighs when you tug at it which gives you the opportunity to kiss at his neck, your chin always getting scratched by his stubble. 

You love the routine. However, it makes it hard to concentrate during the lectures since all you can think about when you look at his desk is how good his hands felt on your hips and how his lips were pressed to yours when you were propped up on the wood yourself.

The semester continues on following your routine. If anyone suspects anything, they don’t say. You can’t imagine that someone hasn’t picked up on the soft smiles he sends your direction during lectures, and stragglers leaving class late on Fridays must hear his whispers for you to come back. 

Steadily approaching the end of the term, you begin to question how long your routine will continue. You will no longer be Bucky’s student. Could you actually date? Would he want to? Is that what you want?

…

The familiar tug of nerves settles in the pit of your stomach as you walk to class with Bucky — Dr. Barnes if you were still professional, but you figure that his lips have kissed you a few too many times and in a few too many places for you to call him that. It is your last class in his lecture hall, meaning that beyond today, you are free to make a decision as to whether this is serious or not.

In your heart of hearts, you want this to keep going. You love how you feel around Bucky. While you have not said it out loud, you love him. You feel yourself aching to hear him say it, too. 

When you arrive in the room, Bucky is already there, nervously flipping through crime scene photos while running his hands through his hair, creating a rather haphazard mess on his head. He looks more anxious than usual, and it takes everything in you to not to stride to his desk and ask him what’s wrong. 

Instead, you brush past him, trailing a quick hand over his arm, hoping that it has a calming effect over him. His eyes flash to yours as you cast a look over your shoulder, smiling at him. He sends you a tight lipped smile back as his shoulders shrug down from their place beside his ears. 

From your seat, you watch Bucky pace around a bit, obviously concerned about something. You rub your palms over your thighs when you discover them clenched in worry. You wonder if his stress has anything to do with the reason you were nervous coming to class today — the talk you know is coming tonight. You figure it does when his eyes glance over at you every few minutes before beginning the lecture.

You find yourself becoming sentimental about the semester as you look around the room, taking in the feeling for the last time. If you and Bucky do decide to continue your relationship, you can never take one of his classes again. If you don’t continue to see Bucky, you doubt you will want to take one of his classes again. You will miss his funny side comments that come out of left field. You will miss his mismatched suits and disheveled hair. 

The sound of Bucky announcing the end of class breaks you out of your thoughts, and the shuffling of backpacks and feet brings you back to reality. A stream of students thank Bucky as they flow out of the classroom for the final time. You stall a minute, waiting for the throng to exit out the doors before approaching your professor.

“Hey, Bucky,” you say quietly, clutching your laptop to your chest. 

“Hey.”

You watch him lean against his desk, hands pressed to the edge of the wood. 

“How are you doing?” you ask the question that has been waiting to erupt since you entered the lecture hall an hour previous. “You seem nervous.”

A chuckle that comes out more as a sigh escapes him. “Yeah. I’m fine. I, uh, I just didn’t get much sleep last night. How are…how are you?”

“Wistfully contemplating the end of my time in your class,” you reply playfully, hoping that the happy tone will hide the melancholy you really feel about the idea.

This elicits a laugh from Bucky as he looks at you through his lashes — a look that always has your knees threatening to come out from under you. You take steps closer and set your laptop down on his desk, then place your hands on his shoulders, running them down his arms to settle in his hands.

“Do you want to get dinner with me tonight?” you ask, the words barely more than a whisper. You want to catch them in the air, afraid that your proposal to disrupt the routine will be rejected.

But Bucky smiles immediately, thinking for a moment before saying, “Why don’t I cook dinner?”

Your stomach flutters at the thought of watching him in the kitchen. You nod in response.

“7:30?”

“7:30,” you repeat before letting go of his hands to walk out the doors, throwing a smile over your shoulder as you go.

…

The drive to Bucky’s house is quiet but comfortable. About halfway through the trip, your hands link together, resting on your thigh. You talk lazily, asking questions about each others’ days since your morning lecture. There is something so calming about Bucky. You trust him. You love him.

Every once in a while, your eyes flick over to watch him drive, eyes intently focused on the road ahead. He can feel your gaze, so he sends a glance over to you with a soft smile playing on his lips. 

“What?” he asks when you don’t shy away from his eyes.

“Nothing, Buck. I just like being with you.”

“I do, too.”

The sweetness of his simple confession does more to your confidence than you ever thought possible. You feel comfortable around Bucky. You need only be yourself when you are with him, and hearing that same sentiment from him gives you hope that he wants this to continue just as much as you do.

You squeeze his hand, at which he laughs softly, squeezing yours back, brushing his thumb over the knuckles on the back of your hand.

Gravel crunching under tires and the faint sound of dogs barking indicates that you have arrived at your destination. You open the car door and follow Bucky to the front steps of a small house on the edge of town. A large open field is situated behind his house, neighbors nonexistent. Given Bucky’s personality, you are not surprised to discover that he lives alone, away from people, away from the city. 

A flash of nervousness pricks at your mind, as no one would be around if Bucky shows you that isn’t the guy you think he is. But you trust him, and you trust him enough to accept your fate if it does prove to be your downfall.

The door creaks open, and Bucky flicks on the light. Two big dogs come bounding to greet you both, circling his feet until he crouches down to give them the attention they are begging for. To see Bucky with his dogs makes your mind go fuzzy and warm, the tenderness of the scene eradicating your doubts from before.

“Charlie and Duke,” Bucky says, showing you which dog belongs to which name, rubbing each of them affectionately before standing and grabbing your hand.

“They’re adorable.”

“They’re good dogs.”

He leans in for a quick kiss, the domesticity of it causing your breath to catch in your throat. He pulls away smiling, then tugs you into the kitchen where he drags a chair out from the table for you to sit on.

“Sit,” Bucky says with mirth in his voice.

You laugh but do as you are told. 

“I was thinking of making steaks. Is that okay with you?”

“Sounds great.”

You watch Bucky make his way around the kitchen, obviously having done this a lot. He looks comfortable. He catches you staring, meeting your gaze head on, an easy smile adorning his mouth before asking, “What are you smiling at?”

“You. I like seeing you here,” you say quietly. 

“Not as much as I like seeing you sit at my table. I’ve thought about this a lot,” he admits with his back to you as he throws the steaks in the pan. “I like being around you. I’m more comfortable with you than anyone else. You make me feel — you make me feel normal. Most people don’t do that. They don’t — they don’t want to understand me. My old friends can only think about who I was before I quit the force. They don’t — they don’t want to like who I am now.”

The words spill out of Bucky before he can stop them, opening up to you in a way that he has not before. He has let you in here and there over the months you have been spending together in the lecture hall, but he has stayed rather private even then. Not sure what to say in response, you simply move from your place at the table to stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your cheek on his back. You can feel him relax into your touch, and it is a comfort to you both.

“Bucky, I think I am in love with you,” you whisper into his shirt. His body tenses, the sizzling of the meat in the pan filling the silence. Your heart pounds in your chest as you wait for him to say something. Burying your face further into him, disappointment and embarrassment creeping in your stomach, settling heavily when he doesn’t say anything. When a minute that feels like an eternity passes in silence, you mutter a quiet, “I’m sorry.” 

You let go of Bucky and take a step back. He quickly takes the pan off the heat and whips around to face you, pulling you back to him, whispering your name. 

“I love you,” the words are sure and confident coming from his lips. “I know I do.”

He looks at you intently, not shying away from your eyes before leaning in and kissing you softly. You get lost in his kisses, the pounding of your heart racing at a steady quick beat. Bucky backs you into the counter where he cages you with his hands as you weave one of your hands into his hair, the other running up his spine.

“Stay the night,” he mumbles between kisses.

You pull away and nod, meeting his eyes again, kissing him once without breaking the contact.

…

Settling on his couch after laughing yourselves silly over the dinner table, Bucky is close behind you with bowls of ice cream in hand. He hands you a spoon before sitting down right beside you, pulling your legs to stretch over his lap. He runs a hand absentmindedly over your shins as the two of you eat your ice cream. 

“Why did you come talk to me that night?,” he asks between spoonfuls. “You didn’t really need my help. You knew everything I was telling you.”

You smile like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “I did need your help,” you assert before admitting, “but I also just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

The sound of his laugh makes your heart flutter the same way it does when he looks up at you from behind his desk. 

“Hey, not all my professors are attractive recluses who deserve a starring role in my nightly fantasies.”

“Oh, so you fantasize about me,” he presses, the smirk on his face unlike any expression you have ever seen on him. He looks smug, proud, teasing. It makes heat flash to your core.

You hum but it comes out more as a squeak, your focus turning intently on the ice cream melting in your bowl.

“Do you want to know what I’ve fantasized about you?” Bucky asks lowly, grabbing the bowl from your hands, causing your eyes to lift to his. You watch him set it on the floor. Your heart begins pounding again as he moves to climb over you, settling between your open legs.

“What have you fantasized about, Bucky?” you ask quietly, voice shaky.

You take a breath when he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You open your mouth to deepen it, and he takes advantage, his tongue pressing to your upper lip. The feeling has your hips rolling and sighs falling from your throat.

He pulls away to murmur into your neck, “Every time I would sit on my couch, I thought about laying you down and kissing you until you can’t remember your own name.”

Your eyes are screwed shut as you tug at his hair, his words forming pools of heat between your hips where his own apply pressure. Your words fail you, only a whimper escaping you. His lips move along your neck, working their way back to your mouth, giving due attention to the places on the way that have you squirming beneath him. You hands tug at his shirt to slip your fingers beneath the fabric, skimming up his back, scratching lightly.

His kisses become feverish at the feeling of your nails down his back. One hand hooks your knee to pull your form even closer to his, hips slipping into place. You can feel yourself becoming wetter by the second, the slow circling of his hips against yours creating friction that has you moaning.

In one swift motion, his hands are gliding up your sides, taking your shirt with you. You lean up to help him before settling back down against the pillows. He sits on his heels to take his own shirt off which allows you to see him in the faint light casted by the lamp in the corner.

You notice a shining scar that extends from one hip to the other below his navel. Fingertips reach out to touch it, barely making contact before his own hand stills your movements. 

“Is this why you quit the force?” you ask barely above a whisper.

He only nods, his feelings of vulnerability silencing him. You aren’t disgusted by it. It doesn’t change how you see him. You don’t pity him. You are simply curious. And amazed at his strength. He survived whatever left him this scar.

“Can I see it?”

Bucky takes a fluttering breath through his nose then nods again. You climb to the floor, resting on your knees between his legs. You glance up at him and see his head lolling to the side as he looks down at you, eyes hazy and soft. His eyebrows are scrunched, letting you know that he is concentrated, but the dam of secrecy surrounding Bucky is breaking with every passing second.

Tentatively, you stretch a hand forward, your fingertips grazing the scar. His stomach flexes beneath your touch. 

No one has seen his scar since the doctor sewed him back up. He has a fear of pity. He knows that people won’t see him the same when they see the effects of what happened to him — of what was done to him. But he doesn’t see pity in your eyes. He sees awe and amazement. 

Without warning, you press your lips to his stomach, the intimacy of it rendering his mind blank. You hear him swear quietly which urges you to keep going. You kiss all along the scar, his hips, then upwards before you climb into his lap. You find his lips again and kiss slowly, surely, passionately.

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, too.”

You share a few more kisses before he stands up, pulling you with him to his room. He fumbles through his dressers to find a shirt and pair of shorts for you to wear. He hands them to you, then rummages through the bathroom cabinets to find a new toothbrush for you to use.

You thank him after he says that he will meet you back at the bed. The calm and comfort of being with Bucky is undeniable. The domesticity of the night has your heart skipping beats. You quickly change and brush your teeth before making your way to his bed. Noticing books stacked on the nightstand on one side, you slip under the covers of the other, sighing contently when you settle in.

Bucky comes in a moment later with only sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He decided to not put a shirt back on, relishing in the freedom that being with you gives him. He doesn’t climb into bed immediately, but rather stands and looks at you for a moment, curled up in his sheets.

“What have you fantasized about here?” you ask teasingly, but your voice comes out thinner than you had intended. 

At your words, his tongue darts out to lick his lips. He approaches the bed slowly, kneeling down beside you. 

“I want to know yours,” he says, his voice husky and low. You bite your lip, your eyes widening. A shaky inhale.

Soft kisses line the inside of your knee, trailing a path up your thighs. You let out a hitched moan when he places a kiss to your clothed core, your hands winding themselves in his hair. You tug slightly, inviting him to come up to the bed with you.

When he climbs up, you lean back, your shirt riding up over your stomach. Wordlessly, you pull his hands to your body, his calloused palms caressing the exposed skin. He runs his thumbs under your breasts, causing you to arch into his touch. Bucky can’t believe that you respond to him so keenly. He barely touches you and you are curving beneath him, aching for more. 

His lips find your neck, behind your ear, sucking gently. Your hands pull his hips to yours, rocking steadily into him. You suck in a breath, gathering the courage to grab one of his hands to lead it to where you want to feel him the most.

Bucky follows your lead without resistance, kissing you softly in an expression of consent. He helps you pull your shorts off, then presses two fingers to the wet patch on your panties. The pressure has your hips jutting into his touch, overwhelmed by the sensation when his fingers push the fabric to the side.

Your hips move in circles with his movements, his lips kissing you through it all. Moans slip and tumble from your mouth, leaving you hiccupping in pleasure. The cords in your stomach begin snapping when he speeds up his ministrations, your body contracting through your release.

“You did so good, sweetheart,” he whispers to you as he helps you come down from your high. 

Your eyes are crimped shut, but after a moment’s respite and a few encouraging kisses from Bucky, you come back to yourself. You open your eyes to find him watching you intently. You smile lazily then breathe, “Your turn.”

a/n: yayayay !! thanks for reading this !! let me know if you want to be on my taglist :):) and here is my masterlist if you want to check out my other work ! and check out MY SLEEPOVER going on right now !!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #mcu #marvel imagine #james buchanan barnes x reader #mcu imagine #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x you #smut

[slut4thebroken]

baby bat

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Scarecrow x Batgirl!reader

Summary | Scarecrow films a ransom video to send to Batman.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, smut, dubcon, vibrator, forced orgasm, overstimulation, kidnapping, nonconseual recording?, praise.

Words | 800+

Notes | I might make a part two but don’t hold your breath lol. Also for legal reasons, I own the rights to the nickname baby bat cause I came up with it and haven’t seen it used before 😼💅🏻

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Where'd Batman find you, hm?” He placed a hand on your thigh, just above your knee, and started slowly dragging it up. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You growled, thrashing in the restraints. He let out a low chuckle and removed his hand. 

“So feisty. Is this your first time as a hostage?” You gritted your teeth and remained silent. “Oh, it is. Well, I’m honored to be your first.” You could tell he was smirking behind the mask. 

“I’ll admit, this isn’t how I would normally go about it, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.” He said, walking over to the desk to grab something. “Let’s get this out of the way first, then we’ll move onto the fun stuff.” As he walked back over, you could see now that what he grabbed was a vibrator and a video camera. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He shushed you and ignored your thrashing as he attached the vibrator to your clothed heat. 

“It might not be as effective over your suit, but I imagine it’ll give a similar result.” He said and you couldn’t tell if he was talking to you or himself. “Let’s get you warmed up.” He switched it on and your back arched off of the reclined examination chair as your whole body tensed up with the sudden stimulation. You pulled on the restraints hard enough to make your wrists and ankles burn even through the suit. 

“Feel good?” He asked and you watched the way his head tilted down then back up, eyeing your body. You bit your lip to contain your sounds, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. 

“W-why aren’t you— fuck… using your toxin?” You choked out, trying not to moan through the words. 

“I told you, I’m saving the fun part for later.” He lightly trailed his fingers up your naval and between your breasts, only stopping once he reached the zipper of your suit. Since his hand was just below your face, you jerked your head forward, trying to bite him, but he moved away before you could and snickered in response, the sound through the voice modulator in his mask making you shiver. He opened up the camera and fiddled with it for a few seconds before a small light started flashing. 

“Say hi.” He cooed, making you turn your head away from him as you tried to keep the shaking of your body to a minimum. That was proving to be very difficult though because of your rapidly approaching orgasm. “So moody.” He chuckled. “I guess we’ll get right to it then. I need you to do something for me, Batman. If I’m satisfied.. I’ll let her go. If not… well I could use a pet.” You let out a strangled whimper and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will the orgasm away. 

“I’ll send you the details soon. In the meantime… I’ll take good care of her, don’t worry. We’re gonna have so much fun, isn’t that right, baby bat?” He started rubbing your thigh again as he waited for a response. 

You tried to think about dead puppies, the scent of dead bodies, Bruce’s cooking— anything. But nothing could bring you down from the edge. The knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped and you let out a loud moan as your back arched off the chair and your whole body tensed. 

“Oh, look at that.” He cooed mockingly. “Good girl.” You did your best to ignore the way his words ignited a new fire in your belly. When your orgasm faded and you sagged into the exam chair, you quickly tensed up again when the last little bit of pleasure quickly turned into overstimulation. You bit your lip to stifle your pained whimpers, but it barely made a difference. 

“Look at her twitch.” He said proudly. “Does it feel a little too good now?”

“F-fuck you.” You spat, but your voice was too breathless to have any kind of edge to it. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to that soon enough. Now, Batman, one last parting word; trust that by the time the next video finds you, she’ll still be in this predicament, so I’d work quickly if I were you.” He moved in closer to your face and grabbed your cheeks when you started turning away. “Say goodbye, baby bat.” When you remained silent, he chuckled and turned the camera off. 

“Good job. You make such a pretty captive.” It was hard to focus on his words— on anything really— with intense, painful pleasure on your clit. 

“Y-you’re going to let me go?” You whimpered and he froze. His head tilted slightly, making you more nervous. 

“You poor thing. I’m sorry if I gave you false hope, I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to believe me.” You let out a choked sob from his words and he cooed with faux sympathy. “I know. But soon enough you’ll grow to like it here. Just give it time, pet.” 

#scarecrow x reader smut #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow #batgirl!reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader smut #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader

[hollyseb]

FIGHT FOR ME - oneshot

Avenger!Bucky x reader

MINORS DNI, dont copy or translate my work :)

Warnings; violence, sexual language

just a quick one as i’m in the middle of my exams. let me know what you think :)) requests are open!

You’d assimilated fairly well, working alongside the avengers. Being a PR agent meant you could do influential work, while remaining on the sidelines, just as you liked.

It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that you realised how dangerous positioning yourself next to the avengers would be. You became a target.

You very slyly missed an attack on your way home, a member of hydra waiting on your backseat with a knife and a plan to hold you hostage. It was only when Nat caught wind of the man on the tower cameras that she dragged him out and almost ate him alive.

The air had changed in your workplace since the threat. You felt paranoid, constantly looking over your shoulder. Steve was sending you pitying looks, his eyes raking your features for signs of fear. Nat hovered over you, making far-too-frequent visits to your office.

You didn’t like the extra attention. It was nice that they cared, really, but you didn’t know how much longer you could stand it. So when Bucky stalked to your office, advising you to take some self defense lessons, you saw a way you could get everybody off your back.

You and Bucky had a… strained relationship.

His natural distaste towards PR, and your overly positive attitude. He didn’t quite know what to make of you. Too many tense smiles, drawn eyebrows and whispered curses to count.

You couldn’t deny, you found the soldier sickeningly attractive. Broad shoulders, sculpted face, gruff voice. You swallowed those thoughts whenever he neared you. No. You didn’t need this messing with your head.

He was angsty, sarcastic, and only close to those he really trusted. Exactly your type.

He found you attractive too. Breath catching when you wore a slightly-too-short skirt, jaw clenching when he saw that you’d scheduled a meeting with him.

He felt bile rise in his throat when he heard about the attempted attack. His chest tightening with panic and anger. So, it was only natural for him to want to give you some self defense lessons, to be your sparring partner.

He knew he was crossing the line of professionality. He didn’t care. His top priority was making sure you could handle yourself in a fight long enough to stay alive.

So when the moment came, for you to tentatively step into the shared gym, you were nervous.

”H-hi James”, your voice quieter than you would have liked.

He nodded curtly in response, as you scoped out the room. Weights upon weights lined the wall, with a boxing ring in the middle. You let out a shaky sigh.

You followed him to the ring, eyes drinking in his tight Lycra shirt and gym shorts. You liked seeing him like this, casual. You couldn’t help the way your eyes fell to his defined back muscles.

He positioned himself opposite from you in the ring, his eyes trailing up your sport leggings and tight tee. You had your hair pulled into a ponytail. He licked his lips, keeping a large distance from you.

“What would you have done if Nat hadn’t of spotted that man?” Bucky asked you, his voice gruff.

”W-what?” Confusion gripping your features.

”Knife pressed to your throat. Locked in a car with your captor. What’s your next move?”

You started to feel panicked, not only at the mental image of the scenario, but at the way Bucky was intimidating you.

“Bucky, st-“

“You would’ve died”, his breathing ragged, his shoulders tense, “all because you didn’t lock your fucking car”.

You wanted to sputter out an apology, your colleague making you feel stupid for your mistake. He is correct though. It could’ve cost you your life.

Bucky sensed your animosity. He reached out and touched your shoulder, breaking you out of your spiralling thoughts.

“I want to make sure that nothing like that'll ever happen again, okay?” His voice gentle, his eyes soft.

You nodded in response, smiling tentatively towards him.

”Okay so, you need to understand that when someone wants to take you down, they will use whatever tactics they need to. You need to be ready for anything. Lift your arms and block your face.”

You followed his instructions obediently, hanging from his every word.

He circled you, before effortlessly grabbing your arm and twisting it behind your back, not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know you weren’t alert properly. He had trapped your arm between your bodies as he pressed himself against your back.

“C’mon, you don’t want to make it easy for them”, his mouth near your ear, his stubble pricking your neck.

You could feel yourself becoming irritated with his condescending tone, and the way he so easily overpowered you.

You leaned forward slightly, before picking up your leg and driving your foot into his knee, kicking him back. You twisted around fast, smirking at the way his mouth fell open in shock.

He quickly recovered, sending an open hand towards your wrist in an attempt to grab you. You ripped your hand away as he stalked towards you. You stepped back, your movements fuelled by adrenaline. Unfortunately, Bucky had placed a foot behind yours, causing you to tumble backwards. You grabbed his shirt, arms flailing to prevent you from hitting the ground. He landed on top of you.

You tried to shove him off, believing you could roll him onto his back and pin him down, but he had your arms pinned above your head within an instant.

You were frustrated, desperately trying to free yourself from his grip.

He was enamoured. Staring at the way your baby hairs were clinging to your hairline, the bead of sweat running down your neck, the way your chest was rising and falling rapidly, how your mouth hung open in concentration. Fuck. He could feel himself becoming hard at the vision of you.

It was fun for him, seeing you like this. Not in your office clothes, not stressed out with your workload.

He wanted you like this in his bed, messy hair and swollen lips.

In his distraction, you managed to wrap your leg around his neck, rolling him over. Within an instant, he had you ripped from his body. Disorientating you. Flipped over onto your stomach, your hands pinned behind your back.

He lifted your head by tugging on your ponytail.

“Don’t make it this easy for them, doll” His accent drawled with cockiness.

Why were you enjoying the way he was pushing you around, teased you? The way he could control you with a singular movement.

“You know…”, you managed to grunt out, “I could assume that you like to see me like this”. You smirked at that, feeling the way his grip loosened in shock.

“Yeah doll, whatever makes you feel better about your subpar self defense skills”, he recovered, changing the subject from your confrontation.

He hadn’t seen you like this before, teasing… unprofessional.

Fuck… you were only making him harder.

You bucked your hips gently, ever so slightly breezing across his cock. Yep, you thought, feeling the hardness. God, he was so big. You could hear Bucky take a sharp intake of breath.

He leaned back over your body, teeth grazing the side of your neck. He could barely restrain himself from tearing you apart.

Instead, he ripped himself away from you, exiting the ring and slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder as his chest fell and rose dramatically.

Not like this, he thought. He might be a modern man but deep down, he was still from the 40s. You deserved better than this.

Fuck, you thought, had you read the signals wrong? No, no, no. A PR worker making a move onto an avenger. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Hastily, you collected your things, regretting your bold decision. As you opened your phone to book an Uber home, you read a text from an unknown number.

Same time tomorrow, doll. Bring a spare change of clothes, I want to take you out after.

TAGLIST

@scott-loki-barnes @kandis-mom

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #sebastian stan

[cas-kingdom]

For drabble requests how about something for Greys Anatomy where while Derek is busy in surgery the reader comes in injured and Amelia is there to comfort her and make the medical decisions? It doesn’t have to be anything serious really, I’d just love some reader and Amelia bonding 🥰🥰🥰

The walk of shame along the corridors of Grey Sloan was not altogether unfamiliar to you. Many times had you trudged reluctantly along the polished floors of the surgical unit, clutching some injury or another, purposefully trying to avoid the eyes of anyone you knew--which, in such a unit, was pretty impossible.

Years ago, you would have been slightly less embarrassed. Kids always got into medical equipment, right? At least kids of surgeons who were constantly working. But now, it didn't seem quite right. You were a month away from Johns Hopkins, had aced all your exams and probably wouldn't have even needed the reference letters from half the surgical team, and here you were, head hung low in disgrace as you held your bleeding hand to your chest.

If it weren't for the fact you knew your dad would absolutely murder you if he found out you had hidden an injury from him again, you would have locked yourself away in a break room somewhere and attempted to patch yourself up best you could. Alas. Your father was Derek Shepherd. And after the broken nose you'd managed to keep from him for almost twenty-four hours a couple years ago, he'd all but held you hostage until you promised on his life you wouldn't do it again.

So, here you were. Reluctant as hell but somehow still not regretting the situation that had lead you to this moment.

"Hi, have you seen Dr. Shepherd around?" you asked a passing intern. When he made to walk over to the surgery board, finger already pointing at one row in particular, you visibly grimaced.

"Uh, no, the other one. Amelia Shepherd?" You had no intention of crying to your dad today. Your pride had been smashed to pieces enough.

The intern pointed down the hallway and you saw your aunt walking around a corner with another nurse. Pressing your lips in a thin line, you thanked the intern and followed after her. Your pace was fast enough not to lose her but slow enough that you had time to rehearse your lines before you were bombarded with judgment.

Amelia ducked into a radiology room and you steeled yourself before pushing the door open. "Amelia?"

"Y/N. Why are you holding your hand like that?"

You wouldn't have been surprised at the question, in fact you had fully expected it, if Amelia had turned around to actually see who had walked through the door. Your aunt could do powerful stuff, but mindreading was not on that list.

"I saw you earlier." Amelia turned, arms crossed, brows raised. "Well done, by the way. Meredith thought it would take you longer to find someone. I said it would take..." She glanced at her watch and shrugged. "Twenty minutes. Not bad."

Her supposed victory was short-lived when she looked up. Her eyes fell on your hand and her face dropped as she walked quickly over to you. "I'd rather you not drip blood on the floor," she said, an obvious tease behind her words, as she gently pulled you over to sit down.

You made a face, not having realised. "Oops."

"Oops is right, kiddo." Amelia knelt in front of the swivel chair and let you uncover your hand, humming under her breath when she noted the long, jagged line running down the side of your hand from the base of your wrist to the middle of your pinky finger. "How'd you manage this, huh? Don't tell me you found the electrical saw again."

You rolled your eyes. "I stabbed myself, actually," you said matter-of-factly.

"Ooh, that's a new one. With what?" When your reluctance finally kicked in, Amelia looked up. "With what, Y/N?"

Your hand began to throb and only then did you decide that answering your aunt's questions was probably the easiest way to getting relief. "A needle," you said. "I found a suture practice kit and, oh my God, Amelia, you know that's like giving me candy. I couldn't just leave it alone."

Amelia nodded along, gently probing at the red skin around your wound. "So you practiced sutures on fake skin and, what? Sewed yourself?"

"There was a noise outside and I jerked my hand," you deadpanned. Amelia glanced up, on the verge of laughter, and you looked away stiffly. "It hurts."

"Well, lesson learnt. For now," she added after as a second thought. There was a short silence after that was broken only by your hiss of pain when Amelia touched an exceptionally sensitive spot. Sucking a breath through her teeth, the surgeon sat back on her heels and looked up at you. "How were your sutures?" she asked. "Straight? Neat?"

You lit up, Derek's smug smile curving your lips not a second later. "Straightest and neatest you'll ever see."

"That's my girl." Amelia squeezed your knee before standing to her feet and taking out her phone. "Now, what do we tell your dad when he sees you later with stitches in your hand?"

You couldn't have groaned louder. If the chair didn't have a straight back, you would have fallen backwards with the force of it. When you righted yourself, a fierce look of indignation on your face, Amelia wasn't even attempting to hide her amusement.

"I need stitches?"

"Yup. Aaand, lucky for you, I think Derek should be out of surgery by now." Chipper as ever in the face of her niece's almost tangible disgust, she held open the door and nodded in its direction. "Come on, kiddo. He'll be glad to do a little needlework. Bring him back to basics."

You rolled your eyes once more as you got up, cradling your hand to your chest. "Like brother, like sister," you grumbled as you passed your aunt.

"What was that?"

"I said: like brother, like sister, you sadist."

Amelia snorted.

Grey's Masterpost

#grey's anatomy #amelia shepherd #derek shepherd #amelia x reader #amelia shepherd x reader #derek x reader #derek shepherd x reader #amelia x derek #derek x amelia #reader #reader fic #daughter reader #daughter!reader #mine

[limetameta]

*Joker and Harley and goons holding Wayne Gala hostage*

Bruce, tied up, chaotic idea moment: Wait, it's my friend Harleen from medical school! Harleen, how’s it going?

Harley, momentarily so confused that she almost drops her mallet: Huh??? Bruce??? Wait hottie Brucie was Bruce Wayne??? Wayne the Playboy! I thought you were gay!! *lowers voice and cringes that she might have just outer someone by accident*

Bruce: :D Harleen, it's been so long! I heard you got a degree and everything. I dropped out because medical school was so hard for me. Half of that stuff just flew over my head :) *exhuding ray of sunshine energy*

Joker, inching closer because he hears Harley giggling and it isn’t due to him: Hey, hey, kids, what's happening here? *looks at Bruce, peers at him in that what's up not batsy bats*

Bruce, channelling himbo energy on max: Harleen and I used to drink shots right before exams in medical school :D

Joker: This is lore I did not know about.

*puts a stop to the whole hostage sitch because Joker grills both Harley and Bruce about their old medical school days*

Nightwing finally arrives from Bludhaven to put a stop to this

Bruce: Harleen, it was so nice catching up! :D

Harley, getting hauled into a police van: Thanks, Brucie! Stay in touch, would you!

Joker, so bewildered: What's next? Jonny turns out to be your ex psych professor???

Bruce: Actually he was only a TA at the time!

Joker, choking on his own laughter: No wonder you're fucked up, darling!!

Bruce: Hey, at least I haven't yet decided to dress up as a furry and beat clowns up for a living ;)

Joker, in handcuffs, being manhandled: HA! FURRY, I'll bring that up with the good Bat! Maybe next time I'll bring a tequilla bottle to get you to relive your college days!

Bruce: :D Ha ha! Only if you want me to drink you under the table!

Harley laughing: He's good, too, Mr Jay! Hottie Brucie might give you a run for your money!

Joker, peeling with laughter because he can't reconcile how different "Hottie Brucie" is from Batman: You've got a deal!

Gordon: Mr Wayne, please, don't talk to the criminals :/

Bruce, sheepishly shrugging: Sorry, commissioner, I'm chatty by nature.

#batman #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #the joker #bruce wayne

[spidernuggets]

this is so tropey and cliché yet I cannot help but adore it sooo a calm chill peace n love pacifist type of gal who only uses computer skills/detective skills/whatnot for the titans but never violence. that is until some asshat takes jason hostage and reader to the sheer shock of everyone goes deathstroke level violent, demolishes everything, sneaks out alone to single handedly rescue jason whilst the titans are still tryna figure out a plan, and jason wakes up back in titans tower to find out that it wasn't a team effort to get him back, that reader did it all alone and killed the people who took him, jason is maybe a lil shit and is all thanks but I had the situation under control, and then he asks why she cares so much and she's like I don't but if they killed you I would kill everyone in this room and then myself 😊 👉👈

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Note: I'M SO SORRY IT'S TAKING SO LONG TO GET THIS OUT, BABES!!! I'M IN MY FINAL YEAR OF SCHOOL, AND I HAVE EXAMS LIKE EVERY WEEK REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS CRIES. ALSO, the first part of this fic is kinda based on Jason and Gar's little moment before they go down to the subways.

"What are you doing now, nerd?" Jason walks into the computer room where yoh sat in front of the downgraded version of the Bat Computer. He leans against the edge, budging your leg with his to get your attention.

"That name is hypocritical, theatre nerd," you bite back.

"Holy shit, they're thespians, not theatre nerds."

"Same difference. Anyways, if you must know, Arkham Asylum's system broke down. Dick asked me to help them fix it. It's fine now, but a bunch of crims broke out. Some are back in, but a few handfuls are still out there. No one above Riddler level. We'll be fine," you say, leaning back on the chair, hands resting behind your head.

"Need any help, babe?" He asks.

You'd be a pathological liar if you said all the nicknames he gave you didn't make your face heat up. You always liked Jason. He has the smart potential that everybody else seems to refuse to see. But you appreciate it.

You shrug. "I dunno. You can if you want, I'm just trying to find where these criminals would be next. But it just looks like they're breaking in and stealing shit from wherever. They pick one building and then move on to a whole different area," you frown, unable to find a pattern.

Jason squints at the big screen. "Hey, zoom into that street over there," he points to the corner of the city's map. You furrow your brows, but oblige. "They're not targeting random buildings, sweet thing," he mutters.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Look. See those buildings there? They already have past records of breaking and entering, and robbery. These Arkham crims are targeting untouched places." Jason says, observing the area.

You then go on your own computer, searching the history of crime through Gotham. Sure, the majority of residents were witnesses or victims to these crimes, but there's still places that have been safe for a good while.

"Hey, all these buildings. I know them." He adds. "Bruce enforced higher security. They're aiming for Wayne Enterprise sponsored buildings!"

"How did I miss that?" You whisper to yourself. "Fuck, Jason, your a bloody genius." You missed the whiplash he got, looking at you in awe for such a simple compliment. "Alright, let me just go mark these locations and I'll go and let Dick know."

"Woah, woah," Jason holds your shoulder. "He doesn't need to know. He's already so busy. I'll handle them. You said it yourself, 'we'll be fine'." He says proudly.

You sighed. "Jay, I know you'd be fine. What's not fine is knowing for a fact that you'd show no mercy and probably make all of them bite the curb." You crossed your arms, folding one leg over your other.

"Ugh, c'mon, Y/n. I promise I won't, and I promise I'll be safe. Dick and the other guys need to know that I can do shit on my own!" He starts to beg. You always knew how important Robin is to him. You were actually impressed about how passionate he was to a mask.

You sighed again, staring at the floor while thinking. "Fine. But you need to be wired. At least be in contact with me. The moment you get into trouble, you call me, I'll get the others to help."

"Why don't you just come out with me? I know you git them badass combat skills?" Then, Jason gives you those eyes for when he asks you for something, and shamefully, you always give in. Not this time.

"Jay, you know why. Even just giving someone a oetty slap just doesn't do it for me."

"Yeah, yeah I know. But if you're ready to throw a punch, make sure I'm there to see," Jason winks as he's about to leave to suit up. But you call out to him.

"Jason." He turns. "You don't need to prove yourself to anyone. Not to me at least," you gave him a sympathetic look. Jason just gives a slight nod in return before turning again and leaving to get ready.

"You sent Jason out there?!" Dick storms into your room without knocking.

You were sat on your bed, holding your hands up. "Woah, man, I could've been changing or something," you say nonchalantly. "Jason will be fine, Dick. He is capable enough of defending himself. Besides, I have him wired, so if he needs help, he can contact me." You say, eyes focused on the laptop placed on your legs.

"Okay, genius, then why did Hank inform me just now that Jason's unresponsive and that his tracker has been disconnected!" Dick yells at you. You stop typing.

"I'm sorry," you choke out a sarcastic laugh, getting off your bed, walking out of your room, Dick following suit. "What? It sounds like you're saying someone cut off all connections that Jason has to us," you said, hoping that you heard wrong or that it was some lame, insensitve prank. You walk into the debriefing room, where the other Titans were. And to prove what Dick said was true, the screens showed that there were no signs of Jason, his tracker, or his wire.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Dick replies sternly. "Jason's gone missing, possibly kidnapped. Why didn't you tell me he was going out?! Why didn't you tell us?"

Hank chimes in. "Yeah, kid. You know how reckless Jason can be-"

You chucked your laptop to the wall, completely smashing it, the screen chipping everywhere, and the keys scattering across the floor. It instantly made the room dead silent.

You stayed silent, too. You said nothing, giving the others no explanation to your sudden, quiet outburst, and headed back to your room.

From behind you can hear Dick sigh, and preoare everyone to find Jason.

You had other plans.

You didn't know where Jason could be. But from the tracker, you can pinpoint his last known location. Not that you told Dick or even Bruce, but you managed to connect your smartwatch to Jason's tracker. No, you are not a stalker... is what you always repeated to yourself. You just wanted to be the first one to always be sure that your spontaneous friend is okay. And look at what good it's doing.

Opening your closet, deep in the back, situated your throwing knives and flame thrower.

"Come to mama," you whispered. Sure, the use of violence is more or less a disturbance to you. But these assholes have your friend hostage. And you know that if you stay with the others, they'd slow you down.

You packed a backpack with everything you think you'd need, and you climbed out your window and ran to where Jason was seen last. You didn't have a hero suit of your own, seeing as you refused to kick ass with the others. Oh, well, you thought. A face mask would do you good.

You ended up in the outskirts of the city. There was no noise, and no Jason. But there was blood. Possibly his.

Unfortunately, there were only splatters and no trails that could guide you.

"Well, aren't you a pretty little thing?" A deeo, raspy voice said behind you.

You turn around and tilted your head. "Hello. I'm lookin' for a friend. About yay high, black domino mask, Christmas coloured superhero suit with an R on the left breast of the chest plate. Goes by the name Robin. You seen him anywhere?" You politely ask.

The gruffy man hummed. "Hmm. Show me what you're made of little lady, and I might spill a secret or two," he disgustingly smirks.

You shrug. "Since you asked so nicely." Swiftly, you threw a knife at him, slicing right through his shoulder as the man howls in agony.

"YOU BITCH," he screams.

You slowly walk up to him, and right as he tries to throw a punch, you dug, slicing his leg with another one of your knives, making him tumble to the concrete.

As he lays on his back, you tower over him, your foot resting on top of the knife that was impaled through his shoulder, making him cry out in pain.

"Now you listen to me, pretty little thing," you smile, mocming him. "After this, you're going to live. Because the sight of a dead body makes me gag. But the catch is," You reach for your flamethrower from your back, pointing it to the man's crotch as he whimpers in fear. "You're gonna be walkin' around with a fried dick. So what's it gonna be? Giving me a location? Or giving yourself a grilled sausage?"

You blink twice before he yells and reveals where Jason is. "Thank you so much, sweetie," you smiled, moving the flamethrower away and your foot lifting off the knife, turning to go find your friend.

He sighs out in relief, but you then turn back around. Saying nothing else, you point the flamethrower at his face, setting it off, letting the flames char his skin.

You hide behind crates in a dimly lit, abandoned warehouse, trying to search for Jason. You then go into a different room, and upon going in, you see a figure tied up in a chair, mouth covered in a dirty rag and a blindfold over his eyes.

My poor- shit. I mean. Poor Jason. You think.

The room was empty. It's an opportunity for you to help him. You cut the ropes, take the rag, and blindfold off.

"Jay?" You whispered. "Jason, wake up, c'mon we gotta go." It was no use.

"So you're the little gal burning up faces," another rough voice says.

You stand up straight, facing the significantly larger man in front of you. "Why does everyone keep calling me that? I'm the average height," you complained, crossing your arms.

The man grunts, snapping his fingers. Then, what seemed to be a whole army of men dressed in black and white striped jumpsuits appeared from every corner, with crooked grins and nasal chuckles.

"Naw, but you'd be cut, chopped, and sliced into little pieces after we're done with you, little thing," he smiles.

"All of you against me?" You pouted. Well, that's just not fair, is it? How about a little disadvantage for you guys." You threw knives in all light sources, smashing the bulbs, now with the only source of ligbt being the moon shining out from a window or two.

You quickly whip out night vision goggles, activating them and your flamethrower ready in your hands.

You start blasting at all the men that attempt (and failed) to attack you, quickly burning their faces, hands, legs, all over their bodies.

All you could hear were the sounds of their writhing pain. You also made sure to stay close to Jason, making sure no one tried to hurt him.

Just as you were about to roast another guy, your flamethrower suddenly ran out of fuel.

"Well, shit," you muttered to yourself. "Old fashioned, it is."

You used the flamethrower itself as a combat weapon, hurling it through their guts and crotches, any of their most vulnerable areas.

The last guy to go down was the supposed leader. You smash the flamethrower into his head, probably leaving a dent, and he falls to the ground. You then take out any knives that remain, stabbing them through bith his shoulders and shins.

You took out your remaining anger and adrenaline out on him by using the flamethrower, striking it against his abdomen.

"Asshole! Perveted! Kidnapping! Ugly! Son! Of! A! Bitch!" You exclaim with every blow.

You pants, looking around the room full of unconscious men. Even the one in the cape.

You lift him up, throwing his arm over your shoulder, beginning to haul him out of the warehouse.

By the time Jason woke uo, his head was spinning, his throat was dry, and his vision was blurry. He sits uo, trying to stay still to focus his vision. He then notices that his shirt is off and his torso is bandaged. There were also many patches all over his face.

He slowly gets uo from bed, wincing at the pain. On his nightstand, he sees a glass of water, pills and a sticky note.

"Take the pill and drink all the water, theatre nerd

- Other Nerd."

Jason couldn't help but smile at the little message and consideration. He did as was told, swallowing the pill and gulping down the water.

Wanting to get into bed, he heard voices coming out of his room. He leans against his dokr, trying to listen.

"Half of those guys are in death threatening condition! The other half have permanently damaged bones! You killed a guy, Y/n! When the fuck do you even kill!" It was Dick. Who seemed pissed. Wait.

Did he just put your name and the word kill in the same sentence?

"What was I meant to do, Dick? Lock them up and wait for them to escape again? You and I both know the justice system is bullshit!" You spit back.

"That doesn't make you the judge of death, Y/n!"

"What-Fucking-Ever! Here's an idea! Maybe if you had just a little faith in Jason, he wouldn't feel the need to go out there! He was just trying to help! You're his older brother. Act like it!" You bite, not wanting to hear another word coming out of Dick's mouth, and stormed into Jason's room.

Too bad you didn't know he was leaning on the other side of the door.

He grunts heavily, and you shove the door against him.

"Shit! Jay, what the hell are you doing out of bed!" You scold him, taking him by the arm and leading him back to bed.

"Hello to you too, nerd," he mumbles, lying back down.

"You just wake up? How you feelin'?" Your hand rests against his face.

"I'm fine. What happened?" He replies groggily.

You sighed, sitting on the floor, resting your chin on the edge of the bed. "You got kidnapped. Your tracker and wire went offline."

"So what were you and Dick arguing about?" His brows knit together.

Your head tilted so that you were leaning on your cheek.

"Just tell me, nerd," he scoffed.

"Went to save you on my own. Killed a guy," you shamefully admitted.

He smiled in disbelief. "I thought I was fuckin' hallucinating. Fuck, wished I was conscious to see you in action. You didn't even need to get me, nerd. I had everything under control." He scoffs at the end.

"Mm.. Okay, Mr. black eye and stabbed stomach," you reply tiredly, while poking his nose.

Jason sighs and stares at the ceiling. "Thanks." He mutters.You smile.

"Hm? What was that?" You tease.

"I'm not saying it again. You know what I said."

"Yeah, yeah. I know." You admire the side of his face.

"Why? Why go through all that, Y/n? You haven't even punched a person in who knows how long. And suddenly you put people in the hospital and kill someone? I don't understand," Jason suddenly says, turning to face you.

You look back at him. "They took you."

He shook his head, unsatisfied. "No. That's bullshit. Gar and Conner got kidnapped once. You didn't kill people then."

You looked away. "They aren't you." You mumble.

"So what? What the hell's so special about me, Y/n? Why do you care so much?" Jason was confused. He wanted answers as to why someone could care so much for him. He wanted to know why someone who doesn't believe in violence would kill for him when even his own family couldn't.

"I don't," you tried to excuse yourself. "But if they killed you, I would've killed everyone, and the Titans, and then myself," you casually say, still avoiding his gaze.

Jason couldn't help but snicker. "Sounds very caring to me, nerd," he lowly says.

You hum. "Mm, whatever."

He then dramatically sighs. "You know what, sweetheart. It's pretty cold up here. And I assume the floor isn't as comfortable as the bed," there's a look of both want and need in his eyes.

You smile. "What? Wamt a blankie?" You teased.

"Fuck, just come up here," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

You said nothing else. Just quickly obliged, going around to the other side of the bed, lying beside him.

"You're too far," he complains.

"I'm gonna mess up your bandages," you pout.

"You're so stubborn," Jason says, using his gokd arm to pull you closer, making your head lay on his chest.

"You're one to talk," you snap, though nestling your head into his warmth.

He just hums in response, letting his lips linger on the crown of your head.

I'M SORRY AGAIN, ANON. this is probably lame... and I didn't know how to end it

cries 🥲

#mickeysideas #jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #jason todd is my life #red hood x reader #titans jason todd #i love jason todd #dc titans #jason todd titans #jason todd headcanon #jason todd angst #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x f!reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd ff #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #red hood x female reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood fanfic #red hood fluff #red hood fic #red hood fanfiction #red hood angst #hc red hood #red hood hc

[caffeiiine]

I read the tags on your Kunikida post… go ahead and explain, my liege

JUST SAW THIS SOMEHOW ABYWAYS TYYY

OKAY so probably going into detail about how kunikida can be considered passively suicidal since i have the most coherent thoughts on that aand warnings for stuff of that nature under the cut :D + length

[also small disclaimer, i have been procrastinating reading dazais entrance exam and so far have only seen the anime adaptation which apparently left a ton of stuff out so feel free to correct me on inaccurate details and/or missed examples or just downright incorrect information]

[note: idk if passive is the correct term bc i was thinking about it and hes not exactly like oh i hope this kills me yk, so whatever that term is lmk <3]

This stuff also sorta ties in with his ideals and their potential self destructive-ness. they tend to cause him to either negligently often risk his life with there being an apparent “other way”, or just outright risk his life with barely a second thought for his ideals.

so kunikida has very strong morals and that’s the core of his character. the main ideals referenced in the show being his infamous “ideal woman”, “how to make dazai ideal”, and the ideal that basically tells him to save people. [i forgot what that one is referred to as]. If we’re talking timeline wise i think one of the first examples of his ideals causing him to negligently risk his life would be in Dazais Entrance Exam, or The Azure Messenger arc if you’re an anime watcher.

First example off the top of my head in dazais entrance exam would be when him and Dazai first see the hostages, specifically the ones in the room

after the gas came down dazai has to actually wrestle kunikida away from the room because otherwise hes gonna die. kunikida repeatedly shouts about how “people shouldn’t die like this”. This might be a bit of a tangent but later on in the episode he remarks how he “may as well ahev set the bomb off himself” when Dazai asks about Rokuzou’s dad, implying he blames himself for Rokuzou’s dad’s death. This is of itself isn’t enough for me to say “oh yeah he’s passively suicidal” so moving on to the main manga where there are several other instances of his tendencies to throw himself directly in harms way.

[there may be examples before this i just skipped to chapter 40] and starting off strong we have the thing with Aya. This could be written up to circumstance but he had the opportunity to avoid death himself so im counting it. he’s basically hugging death. that’s all i have to say for this.

of course he ends up surviving it because of deus ex machina yosano. After the fact, Aya asks him what he would’ve done if Yosano wasn’t there. To which he replies basically he would’ve done the same thing he just did except died and basically would have been fine with the outcome as long as she didn’t die in front of him. [he would’ve been dead as well and not had to deal with the guilt] i should point out as well, he does this because of his ideals. he specifically cites his ideals around these parts usually. The not letting anybody die before his eyes is one of ideals and the most common one he uses.

[im pulling that from the fact he had no backup plans or anything to actually stop the bomb aside from Yosano, since his words could imply he would’ve tried to save Aya. and the guy with the bombs was using the fact Kunikida holds his ideals very close to him, taht he wouldn’t have allowed Aya to die if he could’ve prevented it.]

aaand i think our last example and best example for tonight

context for the scene: they’re in the getaway helicopter and tecchou is trying to take it down via his sword and Kunikida decides to take matters into his own hands and take down Tecchou. First off, HE DID NOT HAVE TO, CHUUYA IS RIGHT. THERE. HE LITERALLY SHOT TECCHOU WITH GRAVITY BULLETS EARLIER.

HE DID NOT HAVE TO RISK HIMSELF BUT HE DID. also additional context, in this arc and the previous arcs, he’s been faced with situation after situation where his ideals have failed him and he’s been unable to exercise them and save the people he thinks he should.

point being, he feels like complete shit! he probably is thinking like if he should do anything then, it should be he makes sure he gets his friends out of there. regardless of whether he’s dead or alive because he jumps out of the plane and full body tackles tecchou while being in direct contact with fucking chuuya.

chuuya “has to stay out of the fights and arcs half the time because he’s too good at his job” nakahara.

chuuya “just shot tecchou and did a decent job at keeping him back a few pages before” nakahara. you see my point.

oh and then he just attempts to blow the both of them up.

he does not care for his life at all here. not one bit. also he did not need to blow the both of them up. he could’ve made a fucking stun gun or anything else that wouldn’t KILL the BOTH of them??

my whole point is he does not care for his life here and it’s gets worse the more you progress through the manga.

anyways anyways ending off, kunikida repeatedly puts his life in danger either for his ideals or neglectfully and/or without need. this has been a ramble. this man is not okay.

also kinda funny is he’s partners with dazai of all people, actively suicidal princess bungou himself. i really enjoy their differences and how similarly different they are.

^ not actually related to anything but i almost started laughing so hard with my family in the room at this piece, junichiro looks so concerned

#good god this was a ton #i hope this was coherent #i most likely missed some stuff unfortunately sobs and there’s probably a contradiction or two in here im not proofreading this #ANYWAYS TYSM FOR ASKUNG #sodaramblestoomuch #bsd #soda ask and answers! #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd kunikida #bsd analysis #bsd manga #bsd spoilers #bungou stray dogs kunikida #kunikida doppo #bsd doppo kunikida #doppo kannonzaka #kunikida bsd #doppo kunikida #bungou sd #bungo sd #bungou gay dogs

[forhappysake]

What Lurks Within, Pt. 9

Author's Note: Still not studying for that exam... anyway, enjoy the fic!

Content: When Spencer and Y/N find the unsub, they realize they're up against more than one perpetrator. The altercation leads to one team member's hospitalization, while the other is taken hostage by the unsubs. The race to get all the BAU members home safely is on, but the team will need some help from the dirty police chief if they're going to do so.

Warnings: Established relationship, physical altercation, typical BAU level violence, allusions to drugs and alcohol (bottles and paraphernalia), some blood, a head injury, and a k!dnapping

Spencer pulled the SUV into the narrowly paved path the park offered for vehicles. “Do you think we should get out or just drive through?” I asked. 

Spencer brought the SUV to a stop after pulling to the edge of the narrow roadway, “Let’s get out and walk around a bit. If Phillip is here, we have to assume he’s too smart to be staying next to the road.” I nodded, reaching for the door handle. 

“Wait, take this,” Spencer reached into the back seat and handed me my bullet-proof vest. I slipped it on over my head, following Spencer’s lead as he slipped into his own. After a moment, we both opened our car doors and slipped out into the chill of the evening. 

Spencer walked a few steps in front of me, flashlight off but prepared in his hand. I kept a tentative hand on my holster and I swept my hand over the cool metal of my firearm. From somewhere to the right, I heard the crunching of dead leaves. 

Spencer and I both froze in place. He clicked on the flashlight and shone it in the direction of the noise. A shadowy figure caught my eye. As I drew my weapon, I realized the figure before me was that of a startled doe. The animal stood as still as she could, her eyes locked on Spencer and I. As Spencer moved to lower the flashlight, the doe turned and took off into the woods. I heard Spencer let out a relieved breath as he turned forward again, cutting the flashlight, and we continued our trek deeper into the park. 

After walking for another couple minutes, Spencer motioned for me to stop. I followed his lead, my firearm still in my hand. He turned to look at me, then pointed at the ground. Looking down, I noticed a distinct mixture of food wrappers and beer cans littering the grass under our feet. Though not uncommon for a public park, it was enough to take note of as we carried on our way. 

Spencer turned back to me after another hundred steps or so. “It doesn’t seem like anyone’s here. I guess we can loop around this way,” he pointed towards the west, “and head back up towards the SUV.” 

I shrugged, “Works for me, Spence.” He continued to lead our path. Just as we were about to turn our backs and start towards the front of the park, I noticed something in the treeline of the woods. “Spencer,” I whispered. He stopped in place, turning his body to follow the direction my eyes were pointing. He noticed it too - the small light shining from the treeline in the same woods that the doe had scampered into only minutes prior. 

Spencer frowned and furrowed his brow. “Wait here,” he said. I took a quick step forward, grabbing him harshly by the arm. “Are you crazy? We’re going together.” 

He bit his lip in deep thought before relenting with a weak nod of his head. He turned back towards the flickering light source which continued to draw our attention. “It almost looks like a campfire,” I whispered. He nodded from his position in front of me. We crept up on the apparent fire. When we were nearly one hundred feet away, Spencer stopped us, signaling for me to crouch down with him behind the remnants of a fallen tree. 

As we crouched and tried to hold our breaths, I felt something hard under my boot. I lifted my foot and tapped Spencer on the shoulder, pointing down towards where my shoe had landed moments ago. Mixed in with the fallen leaves was a discarded syringe. Spencer raised an eyebrow, and just as he opened his mouth to speak a crackle of leaves came from the darkness behind us. 

I whipped my head around to investigate the sound when I felt something grab ahold of my hair, pulling me to the ground. I heard Spencer shout something from a few feet away, and I could have sworn I heard a single gunshot ring out into the cold night. 

As I tried to bring myself to stand again, I heard another crack of dead leaves and felt a sharp pain as an object collided with the back of my head. I crumpled to the ground, a foreign warm substance seeping down the back of my neck. I’m bleeding. Where’s Spencer?

I heard his voice again, calling out from a short distance away. I felt a presence standing over me. Despite the darkness and my blurred vision, I could make out Spencer’s figure above me. He leaned down, rolling me on to my back. A tearing sound ripped through the night as he removed part of his shirt sleeve to hold against the back of my head. As he leaned over me, I tried to form proper words, but nothing left my mouth. 

“Hey, we’re okay,” Spencer said, though the panic in his voice seemed to denote otherwise. “Keep looking at me, you’re doing great. I called for backup. Someone should be here any minute, okay?” 

I managed to groan in reply as the throbbing pain in the back of my head became stronger by the second. I did my best to maintain consciousness and focus on Spencer’s figure above me, but it was then I noticed a second figure leering over both of us in the darkness. I tried to utter a warning, but all that came out was a panicked shriek. 

“What? What is it?” Spencer asked. Just as he finished his statement, the figure behind him kicked Spencer in the side, knocking him over on the ground next to me. I had to do something, and I tried to stand up, only to slip back on to the cold ground once more. 

Spencer started to rise from the ground when the figure above him landed another kick on his chest and abdomen. He writhed on the ground next to me, still trying to drag himself back to a fighting position. Spencer managed to sit up and lunge at the perpetrator in front of him, grasping both of their legs and throwing them to the ground. 

As Spencer tried to climb on top of our attacker, a woman’s voice rang out into the night from somewhere beside me. “What the hell am I supposed to do with you?” My blurry vision could only make out part of the girl standing above me. Her thin hair and cracked teeth did nothing to hide her resemblance to her mother. 

“Mira Graydon,” I whispered, the blood from the back of my head soaking the ground beneath me now. I watched the figure walk over to where Spencer and the unnamed attacked fought for dominance on the ground. 

“Phil, you’re pathetic,” I heard her say. I saw her lift something over her head and bring it down on Spencer’s back. Spencer gasped, rolling off the man who he’d tried so hard to capture - Phillip Graydon. “You’re welcome,” she murmured to Phillip, as I heard him trying to catch his breath on the ground. “Now, what should we do with her?” she used the object in her hands, presumably a baseball bat, to gesture over at my bleeding figure on the ground. 

Phillip pulled himself up from his position on the ground as Spencer laid still, evidently passed out. “Just leave her, she’s bleeding out anyway.” 

“Fine,” Mira said. “What about him?” she gestured the bat towards Spencer. I felt my vision starting to fade, but I swore I could hear a siren somewhere in the distance. Please move faster, please move faster. 

“Put him out of his misery,” Phillip said. Mira scoffed. 

“Have I taught you nothing? We’re on the run now, Phil. I think we should take him with us. He’s like collateral, we could use him to our advantage. Besides, he’s kinda cute.” 

Phillip rolled his eyes. “Fine, but you have to help me drag him out of here. We’d better get going. I think somebody’s coming.” He gestured towards the front of the park where lights were beginning to appear as he leaned down to Spencer’s unconscious body, draping one of his arms over his shoulders. 

It was in that moment that my vision left me completely as sounds around me began to fade even more. Before I fully lost consciousness, I could hear the sound of leaves crunching under the weight of the two Graydons dragging Spencer into the woods. 

  -     -  -

Beep… Beep… Beep…

I struggled to open my eyes, wincing as the fluorescent lights from above attacked my vision. I squeezed them shut again, instead choosing to wiggle my fingers and toes. My whole body felt like it hadn’t moved for days. Days. How long have I been here? Where is here?

Suddenly, the memories of my last moments of consciousness came flooding back to me. I forced myself to open my eyes, attempting to turn my head in order to observe the room around me: white walls, cabinets, IV drip. I looked down at my legs. Scratches from the park ground covered my legs which were bare below my knees, covered only by my hospital gown. I reached down to lift the gown up, revealing the burn on my leg from our first day in Denver. Someone had bandaged it. 

As I tried to lift my head from the hospital bed, I inadvertently let out a loud groan. I shut my eyes to wince and I heard hurried footsteps approaching my room. “Hey, hey, it’s JJ. You’re all safe. Lay back.” I felt her hands gently pushing my shoulders back to the bed. I couldn’t resist her, still weak from the beating I’d taken. 

I cleared my throat, though my voice still came out hoarse, “How long?” I forced my eyes open again, looking at JJ to try and read her reaction. “You’ve only been here for four hours, which is why you need to lay back and rest.” Thank God. 

“Spencer,” I said next, keeping my eyes fixed on her. She didn’t respond. She looked down at my scratched legs and seemed to avoid my eyes. “JJ, Spencer?” I asked again. 

She sighed. “We haven’t found him yet-” she started. I winced, not at the physical pain, but at his absence. “We’re looking. We’re close. We’re going to find him soon.” 

I shook my head the most I could muster in this particular situation, arching my back off the bed and trying to force my neck to follow. JJ didn’t attempt to hold me back this time, knowing it wouldn’t be any use. 

I sat up on my own, swinging my legs off the bed. I felt like my head was on fire, and every muscle begged me to lay back down. How could I when Spencer was who-knows-where? 

“Where are my clothes?” I asked. 

JJ shook her head, “You can’t go anywhere. Just stay there and I’ll get you some water-”

“Jennifer,” I cut her off, looking up at her with determination, “where are my clothes?” I asked through gritted teeth. It was then I noticed the IV attached to my hand and the little EKG readers strapped to my chest. I yanked them off, removing the IV needle from my hand last. Drops of blood trickled from my hand and I ripped part of the cheap hospital bed sheet to make a makeshift bandage. 

JJ backed up from the bed. “I’ll get you your clothes,” she said, defeated. She turned and walked to the other side of the room, handing me my go-bag. I rifled through it for a moment, settling on a pair of sweatpants and Spencer’s CalTech sweatshirt. 

“You don’t think they’ll mind if I’m underdressed, do you?” I joked bitterly. JJ rolled her eyes. 

She shook her head. “You’re going to get me fired. I’m supposed to keep you here.” 

“Do they really think any of you will be able to keep me here when Spencer is out there?” I asked as I gently pulled the sweatpants up my legs and over the bandage on my burnt thigh. 

“I hope not,” she said, “because clearly I’m not doing a very good job.”

As I stripped off the hospital gown and pulled the sweatshirt on, I accidentally bumped the bandage on the back of my head, sending a throbbing pain through my head and neck. I groaned audibly. 

“See, this is why you’re not supposed to leave,” JJ said, “you’re not in any shape to travel.” 

“You’re right,” I said, discarding the hospital gown on the floor and taking my tentative first steps on the ground. Though I was a bit wobbly, I could do it, especially if I used the railing to steady myself. 

“If you’re making me break you out of here, at least use this,” JJ said, bringing over a walker from the corner of the room. 

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said, scoffing at the walker. It was at that moment that I began to wobble and JJ helped balance me. She raised her eyebrows, gesturing to the walker. “Dammit. Fine.”

I stabilized myself on both sides of the walker before JJ led us down the hallway. She flashed her FBI badge at the nurse’s counter, not stopping as we proceeded, albeit at a slow pace.  “I don’t think you’re supposed to do that,” I mumbled when we were out of earshot from the counter. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be out of bed right now, but we’re all breaking rules tonight,” she retorted. I decided it was best to keep my mouth shut. When we finally made it to the main entrance of the hospital, JJ pulled her phone out of her pocket. 

I watched as she pressed a few buttons and held the phone to her ear. “Yeah, Luke. I’m good to go. Pull around front.” I watched as a black SUV whipped into the carport. JJ and I walked out together, and she held the passenger car door open for me as I climbed in.

“Whoa, whoa,” said Luke, waving his hands, “what is this? She’s not supposed to go anywhere!”

JJ shot him a look as I settled myself in the passenger seat. “You think I don’t know that, Luke? But she’s not going to sit on the sidelines while Spencer is missing. If we make her, she’ll make our lives hell.” I raised my eyebrows at her before turning to Luke, offering him a look that said ‘she’s absolutely right.’ He let out a dramatic sigh as JJ climbed in the back seat. 

Luke shifted the car into drive, pulling away from the hospital and out onto the street back towards the precinct. The drive was quiet as I nervously picked at my hands, thinking of Spencer and what he may be going through. I forced myself to change my train of thought as I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. 

As soon as I’d forced my tears away, Luke pulled into the precinct parking lot and brought the car to a halt in the handicapped space by the door. “So thoughtful,” I mumbled as JJ opened my car door and helped me balance against the walker.

After I was stable, the three of us slowly made our way to the door. Luke held it open as JJ followed close behind me, making sure I wouldn’t fall backwards if I got off balance. “Where’s everyone?” I asked. 

“Conference room,” Luke replied. I nodded as best I could without agitating the throbbing pain in the back of my head, dragging myself towards the conference room’s closed door. JJ cut in front of me, holding the door open. 

“Hey,” I heard Emily say, “I didn’t expect you back so soon. What did the doctor say about Y/N?”

 JJ bit her lip, “I didn’t really get that far.” I could feel Emily’s confusion from outside the conference room, so I gently hobbled myself through the doorway. 

Emily gasped. “What the hell are you doing here? You can’t even walk right!”

I lifted one hand from the walker and waved her off in dismissal. “I’m fine. Spencer needs my help more than I need my help right now. Just let me be here and let me feel like I’m contributing,” I said quietly.

Emily paused for a moment, before sighing her agreement. Matt came over from the other side of the room, helping to lower me into a chair around the conference room table next to Rossi. Rossi leaned over and patted my arm, “I always knew you were a tough cookie.”

I smiled weakly in response. “Alright, I’m ready. What do you know?” I asked. 

Emily gestured to the board at the front of the conference room. “Based on the scene of where you were found in the park, we put together that there must be two unsubs, as in the two Graydon children. We haven’t quite figured out what exactly went down at the scene, if you have any insight,” she offered me the floor. 

I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes in an attempt to recall what had happened when Spencer and I were in the park. “I think Mira hit me over the head with something, maybe a baseball bat,” I shrugged before continuing. “I heard something like a gunshot. I-I’m assuming Spencer shot at her, but I don’t know if he hit her or not. When Spencer came to check on me, Phillip knocked him over and they got into some sort of altercation. Spencer was able to get on top of him, but Mira knocked him unconscious with whatever she’d used to hit me.”

I opened my eyes to the team around the table. JJ winced at the story I was telling, nervously threading a strand of hair through her fingers over and over again. Emily cleared her throat, “What about their dynamic? Did one seem to be the leader?” 

I nodded. “Mira was in charge, I think. Phillip wanted to kill Spencer,” I choked up a bit at the thought, taking a pause before continuing. “But Mira said they should take him alive because they could use him as collateral.”

Emily nodded, “So we know their dynamic. When it comes down to it, Phillip will do anything for his sister. Let’s remember that if we get into some sort of negotiations with them.” Heads bobbed in agreement around the table. 

“Do you have any leads on where they may be holding Spencer?” I asked, hope seeping into my voice. 

Emily shook her head, “All we have to go on is the geographical profile that Spencer and JJ were building the other day. Like JJ said, it’s a broad area. We have local law enforcement canvasing those seventeen neighborhoods. Hopefully something will turn up.” 

I shook my head, “They've got to have a vehicle if the geographical profile is right. There's no way they could carry Spencer unnoticed for multiple blocks... and I think Chief Graydon knows where their hideout is.” Eyebrows raised among group members. 

“Why do you think that?” Rossi asked. 

“I talked with Graydon’s wife yesterday. She made a comment that gave me the impression he may know their whereabouts, he just won’t let her have contact with them.” 

Rossi shrugged, “Could be worth a shot. He’s still here, we’ve booked him on obstructing a criminal investigation. I’ll pull him into an interrogation room and see what I can find out.”

“No-” I reached over quickly as Rossi began to rise from his chair, grabbing him by the arm. Everyone at the table was surprised at my sudden movement. Rossi lowered himself back into his chair, waiting for me to continue. I cleared my throat, removing my hand from Rossi’s arm. “I should be the one to talk to him.” 

Emily shook her head before the words had even left my mouth. “No, you’re in no shape to interrogate. Not to mention that you’re way too close to this whole thing now.” 

I scoffed. “Emily, we’re all too close to this thing now. There’s not a person in this room who doesn’t love Spencer and isn’t willing to break some rules to see him get back here safely.” Silence fell over the conference room. “Am I wrong?” I asked the group. JJ shook her head, and the rest of the table followed suit. 

I paused before continuing. “Let Graydon see what his children have done,” I pointed at the back of my head, “I really believe I can get him to sympathize with me. Let me tell him what’s at risk if he doesn’t give them up.”

I watched Emily’s eyes flicker around the group before she settled her gaze on me once more. She sighed, running a hand through her dark hair. “Fine,” she relented, “but we’re all going to be in that observation room. If I feel that you can’t handle it, someone will be coming in to replace you.” I nodded as best I could, accepting her conditions.

To be continued...

#criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #bau x reader #criminal minds fanfic #luke alvez #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #david rossi #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #jj jareau #bau fic #bau x female reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #doctor reid #spencer x you #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #bau team

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Junichiro Tanizaki (self-aware)

Self-Aware Junichiro Tanizaki x GN!Reader

Warning: Yandere. OOC. Junchirou is angry at you. English is my second language.

Becoming self-aware

🌨️ The moment Junchirou become self-aware become the worst moment of his life.

🌨️ Because his sister Naomi hasn't gained self-awareness yet.

🌨️ Junchirou was luckier than Atsushi. Atsushi gained self-awareness fee days earlier than other ADA members. Naomi gained self-awareness an hour after her brother.

🌨️ After Naomi gained self-awareness, Tanizaki siblings hurry to the Agency.

"It's not an ability. Yokohama wasn't broken. We are broken. We are fictional characters, who gained self-awareness. Try to remember your lives. Parents, friends outside ADA, what you did yesterday. Give it a try"

🌨️ Junchirou wanted to run away. So, when a few hours passed and Yosano still hasn't come back, Junchirou volunteers to go and look for her. Naomi quietly follow after him.

🌨️ Junchirou was thankful, that the streets of Yokohama weren't mixed up. At least, they won't stumble around like blind kittens.

🌨️ Yosano was at the old warehouse. All crates were destroyed with her cleaver. She goes after Tanizaki siblings without questions.

🌨️ During the search for Yosano and their walk back to the office, Naomi was silent.

🌨️ And then Junchirou felt entity's gaze.

_____________________

Atsushi was asking others if they felt strange presence. Junchirou felt it, but he stays silent. He was ignoring it. He has more important things going on. Naomi looked broken. He needs to help her.

Junchirou managed to make Naomi talk with him. And Naomi told him everything. About feeling less than a human. About been less than ordinary fictional character. That she is sure she never has any connection to reality.

They have a long talk after that. Despite everything, Naomi was his little sister. They were siblings. They cared for each other. And that was the most important thing.

And the entity doesn't matter. It can continue staying outside Yokohama.

And then time resets.

And Junchirou was pretending to be the bomber, holding Naomi as the hostage.

______________________________

When they start feeling your presence

🌨️ Tanizaki was angry. Did you get angry, because he and Naomi reconcile? That's why you reset time? Were you the reason, why Naomi hasn't been considering herself to be a human?

🌨️ But, for some reason, Naomi looked calm. She seems not minding having entity presence in her life.

🌨️ While pretending to be a bomber, Junchirou heard a voice.

"Junchirou [|||||||] good actor. Maybe, [|||||||] not in ADA [|||||||||] become an actor"

🌨️ Why the entity's emotions felt like gentle breeze? Does supernatural entity's have feelings? What are you?

🌨️ After Atsushi's entrance exam, ADA gather in Uzumaki café. The owners looked like puppets with empty eyes.

🌨️ Atsushi, who looked happy and calm, asked if they heard you talking.

🌨️ Naomi and Junchirou nog. But Junchirou hoped that he will never hear your voice again. What if you were the one who almost broke Naomi and then brainwashed her into liking you? And, besides, you were confusing.

🌨️ You don't sound bad. The whole situation were just bizarre. Junchirou hopes he will have some time to think about it.

🌨️ And then, Higuchi lead them to a Port Mafia trap again.

____________________________________

"But to me, Naomi is an entirely different matter. Compared to things like good and evil or selfishness and selflessness...no. There's no comparison to begin with. Just as nobody would compare God with anything, right?"

And there was the voice again.

"good brother" "Naomi is lucky" "Tanizaki siblings do care for each other"

"Junchirou, everyone would be lucky to have you as a brother. You are a good person, brave and kind"

Junchirou felt like someone was petting him.

[In reality, it was you, who touched the manga panel]

______________________________________

🌨️ After Yosano finished treating Junchirou and Naomi, the siblings have another long talk. At the end, Junchirou realised, that you are not a bad person.

🌨️ When ADA and Port Mafia start working together, Dazai start working on training Atsushi and Akutagawa. Junchirou learned, that Dazai try to make Atsushi and Akutagawa your bodyguards.

🌨️ And Junchirou decides that he will find a way to help to protect you. Because you are nice. To him and to Naomi. To their friends.

And then, one day, the purple moon shined above Yokohama.

When you installed BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan

🌨️ If earlier Junchirou consider your good, after you try your best to get a SSR Naomi card, now Junchirou is considering you one of the best people in the world.

"Ok, Junchirou, let's clear this stage"

"This Tanizaki siblings card is so powerful"

"Junchirou stamp is so cute"

🌨️ After BSD gang gain access to the game code, Junchirou ask Ango, Fyodor and Katai add something new to the game. Now, Junchirou has his own menu, where he shares recipes with you.

🌨️ One day, he, Naomi and you will have dinner together. And he will keep you safe.

___________________________________

You finish cooking the dish. You recently got Fried Tofu recipe from Junchirou. All his recipes were easy and dishes were tasty.

You saw a notification from your Gift box. It was a note from Junchirou with level up materials attached to it.

"[Y/N], hope you are enjoying the recipes. I hope that one day we will taste each other cooking. Until then. Junchirou Tanizaki"

You smile and choose Junchirou's card. You carefully poke the sprite.

"Thanks, Junchirou. Maybe, one day, we will eat something together"

You didn't notice that sprite looked hopeful.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs au #self-awareau #self-awarebsd #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #yandere #bsd tanizaki #bsd junichiro #Self aware junichiro tanizaki #tanizaki junichiro x reader

[bluegoist]

karasu tabito x reader | 1.03 words

a/n: my debut bllk fic ! tbh this was going to be solely a nagi blog but this hasn’t left my mind so i guess everyone just has to suffer with me. the pacing is rather abrupt imo but i hope it's not too... much?

it has been exactly twenty four hours since you’ve last slept.

you’re a person who has strictly follow a good sleep schedule— more often than not irregular but you’d still argue it’s good as you would always get at least 7 hours of sleep, regardless if you start sleep late or early— but right now, one of the most important exams that you have to take is a couple weeks away and you just could not afford to waste a single second in a case you tragically forget everything you’ve worked so hard to study.

you’re pretty certain that your head is spinning and not attaining the knowledge that it wants to. you feel incredibly hazy and distracted for no reason (or maybe it’s the fact that you opt to study without any break whatsoever the past twenty four hours... but you’d rather the ground swallow you up whole than admit that.).

your boyfriend is unaware of the specifics, however, he could tell that you definitely had enough of studying. at least, by the mere fact that he has been to practice, got back, and woke up again just to see you still buried in your notebook then he even waited for a couple more hours just to see if you'd take even a ten minute break or two... of course, to no avail.

suddenly, the usually loving and supportive boyfriend of yours now has his arm up, holding your precious notes hostage. you look up at him, mouth set in a straight line.

“did you actually assume i would jump around like an idiot?” you asked in a withering tone, unimpressed.

“it’d be highly amusing, no?” karasu mockingly asked. pinching the bridge of your nose, a heavy sigh spilling out of your lips, frown apparent on your wrinkled forehead.

“tacchan, my one and only, do not make me strangle you so early in the morning. please, it’s not civilised,” if he was honest, you’re admittedly so adorable, indignantly looking up at him like he’s some sort of scum, but he can never think our loud lest you say something along the lines of ‘if you think i’m so adorable, give me back my notes and leave me alone,’

you signed once more, clenching your eyes tight in hopes the dull ache in your head would subside, “please.”

your boyfriend’s slight smile dropped. karasu tabito have always analysed things surrounding him and you were no exception to that— after all, only after observing and assessing you did he find himself falling for you— therefore, in his mind, he naturally knew your limits and your drive to persevere through it.

but karasu tabito has one fatal flaw— a weakness that takes in a shape of a person; you.

with exaggerated, full body sigh, he skilfully skirted around you to neatly put your notes on the table then before you could react and settle down to begin your studying once more, your boyfriend stopped you by gently grabbing your jaw to shift your focus solely on him. both his hands settling on the sides of your face as he caresses one side of your cheek as he softly smiled.

“yer done,” “no, i—“ he interrupted you with a quiet hush, one hand opting to stop soothing caresses on your cheeks to put his finger on your lips.

“before ya make yer point, listen ta me first, hm? pretty,” closing your eyes briefly as you sigh, you gave in and nodded.

“yer one of— no, the smartest person i know, and normally i wouldn’t take away yer freedom to do whatever ya want whenever ya wanted it. it’s very obvious just how much this nonstop studying you’ve been doing has taken a toll on ya,” his words were gentle, he was highly aware just how sensitive you are right now.

“i know 'tis an important college prep exam but ya can’t get much done if yer so stressed yer suffering. to be honest, i already know you’ll do well despite not studying this hard. you’ll probably get the top rank,”

“you think so?”

“yes, just as it’s always been.” and to be completely true, you are not sure whether it's the total exhaustion or perhaps it’s the simple reassurance your lovely boyfriend has given you after such a long day of laser focusing on whatever it is you were studying but with not much more convincing, you were easily dragged by your own boyfriend to the bathroom to wash up. with gentle hands and an even gentler eyes, he ensured he helped you clean up well and get ready for bed.

the next thing you know, he has dragged you on his bed, laying your head on his chest, as he rubs circles on the exposed skin of your arms.

"genuinely don't get how'd ya even thought of like... failing whatsoever," he grumbled.

"i guess... i just couldn't risk the possibility," you sheepishly replied, "sorry, i'm quite stubborn," you squeezed him once, twice.

"what are ya apologizin' for, scrub! it's one of your redeeming qualities."

"it drives you insane, tacchan."

"love it when ya drive me insane, love everythin' bout ya, little thing." you look up to see your tabito playfully smirking at you, not hiding the absolute affection in his eyes in the slightest.

"i'll probably drive you even more insane in the future..."

"i already look forward ta it," he snickers at you and his eyes promising retribution every time you drove him insane. your boyfriend's tenaciousness is probably the entire reason you both worked out well.

"you're so unserious, you asshole," you clicked your tongue with a mocking glare.

"it's one of ma charming qualities if i say so myself," with his nose high up in the air, you couldn't help but relax even further in his embrace.

"hm.. it is, isn't it?" and you thought; perhaps it's okay to take a break like this and not everything will fall apart just as you'd pathetically imagine.

and perhaps, you'd always have your loving and supportive partner to make up for your rare lack of judgment. perhaps, even though you fall into such a dangerous territory, you'd always have a safety net to back you up.

just as it's always been.

if you made it this far, thank you for finishing this hot mess T-T also i am highly aware that karasu speaks in kansai-ben, however, i did not really do well in depicting that since it’s (surprise) been awhile since i wrote characters with dialects (in english, at least. i’m more familiar with kansai-ben in japanese (as in spoken/romanised) however, it’s quite challenging for me to put that nuance in english since i’m not sure which english dialect i should go with and i think it'd be immensely awkward for me to insert...romanised japanese in a full english fic indiscriminately T-T also tbh i was cringing trying to depict that kansai-ben of this crow cos like... what the hell am i even typing plsdjdjhj anyways um rbs/likes are appreciated i guess but it'd be even greater to know what u guys thought ! again, thank you if you made it this far hehe)

#blue lock imagines #blue lock headcanons #blue lock hcs #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #bllk x you #bllk headcanons #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #bllk karasu #blue lock karasu #karasu x reader #karasu x you #karasu tabito #karasu tabito x reader #karasu tabito x you #blue lock #bllk #blue lock drabbles #bllk drabbles

[pocketramblr]

How about a gamer au? like an au where shigaraki and Izuku incidentally game on the same server, so for example shenanigans like Izuku kidnapping Shigaraki's pet sheep in Minecraft and holding it hostage until he gives Bakugou back could happen

I asked my brother a minecart question in an attempt to get info to answer this ask, he was confused, and so I showed him for context and apparently "guy holds Minecraft sheep hostage" is legit a thing one of the big smps did which. But also a BABY HOSTAGE???

1- um so Izuku, lonely child he is, turns to the internet to game and socialize. He enjoys Herocraft, which is like Minecraft but with hero product placement and uh you can activate certain quirks in villagers by giving them the right item, which will recruit them for you.

2- Izuku is very careful to not give out identifying information in public streams. Because he's a good kid who listened to the internet safety rules. There's another guy on the server who is just as cautious, though Izuku has no idea that HandHeldConsoul has a very different reason for him to do so.

3- the server in question is kind of set up for large group games, usually two teams against each other in a scavenger hunt, build quest, or more specific modded game. Izuku and HandHeldConsoul are usually on the opposite teams, but once there was a game about randomly drawn partnerships and they were a team who did pretty well for arguing half the time.

4- due to being so cautious, neither suspects each other's identity. Izuku mentioned a school entrance exam but Shigaraki assumed it was for college, thinking Izuku is younger than him but not by as much, and Izuku thinking Shigaraki is like ten, fifteen years older than he actually is to have the time to play when he does. This changes at the mall, when Izuku is trying to explain Stain to Shigaraki and uses a Herocraft metaphor - the same one that had been used in the server a few weeks back. Shigaraki is like "wait are you on that server?" Izuku is like "wait you are too?? WAIT DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE HANDHC" and Shigaraki threatens to kill him there if he doesn't say who he is- wait, no, of course he's SmallMight715. The two leave with a threat of mutually assured Herocraft violence preventing any real life such.

5- Izuku does not dox Shigaraki to the server, and vice versa, though Shigaraki does try to irritate Izuku even more than before now. The others wonder what's up with that but suspect nothing. Izuku just takes it without complaint or firing back, because he's planning something bigger. He didn't expect to have to use it so soon, but when Bakugou gets kidnapped Izuku activates the plan, which is half holding his Herocraft home, goods, and allies hostage and half threat to release info on him. The rest of the server is unaware of what's going on, the admins can't help him, and so Shigaraki angrily sends Bakugou back- an excuse to AfO that "he wasn't going to join anyway, but now the heroes will really distrust him"- and Izuku releases everything for now... Then starts preparing to keep his own things safe from Shigaraki's retribution.

#maybe the feud between brothers began on a minecraft server and maybe it's fitting it ends this way too idk #did sure get a lot of server lore given to me though uh. huh. #pocket talks to people #anon #ask game

[starrzhao]

prologue ! summer flame | k.gv

summary kim gyuvin. the one boy that somehow always gets on your nerves for the most ridiculous reasons. you couldn't stand being around him even if he was the last person on earth. But what happens when you're forced you to spend almost two weeks of your summer with the one person you despise the most?

pairing gyuvin x gn!reader

genre romance, fluff, crack, angst if you squint

word count 2.6k

content/tags sfw, enemies? to lovers?, gyuvin’s a little silly boy idk WHISHSJS

warnings mentions of murder and kidnapping but not serious or related to the story lol

taglist @leagreenly ( send an ask or dm if you'd like to be added/removed to a permanent taglist or just for this series )

✧ — masterlist | next

kim gyuvin.

the one person in the world who you can’t stand at all. Everytime you’re around him all you see is red. To you, he feels like a consequence sent to you from your past life like you must’ve angered the heavens for someone like gyuvin to exist in your life.

So what exactly did he do?

Did he perhaps hold one of your family members hostage and plan a well-thought murder plan? Were you past lovers and he crushed you, leaving you in heartbreak and anguish? 

Well…it was for a series of unfortunate and odd reasons.

You had actually known gyuvin from eight grade, that being your first year of being classmates and seatmates.

He was a new transferee in your class, introducing himself as someone who had recently moved from Australia. He was a freakishly tall and handsome boy and immediately became the class heartthrob on his first day. He was also friendly and easy-going, getting along with almost everyone within his first week.

You were his seatmate in his first year.

He was very chatty. He greeted you every morning and would occasionally bug you with random stories and questions in class. You often shrugged him off, trying to stay focused in your classes, responding to him with simple nods and uninterested replies. You never said much, putting on your cold facade as an attempt to get him away from you.

But he didn’t care and continued to be ‘obnoxious’ to you every day. He then just got used to your cold and not-so-friendly personality.

He wasn’t exactly the ardent type of student, always blowing off his exams or even sleeping at times during class.

Most of the time, because of how carefree of a student he was, he never really bothered to bring his own supplies like a notebook or let alone a ballpen. So everytime when it was needed for an activity or exam, he’d always borrow from you. 

Every single time you lend a pen to him, he always happens to lose it. And when you asked to give them back, he’d tell you he’d give it next time or he’d insist on just buying you new ones since he was a rich kid anyways,and he, in fact did as he’d buy you a new set of pens every month to make up for losing it. Although you got annoyed and wanted to just stop lending him your pens knowing how careless he’d be anyways, you just continued to lend them, knowing how most of them were from him. You were basically his own pen supplier and keeper.

He’d also doodle on your notes or grab your hand and casually doodle on it, leaving a bunch of silly drawings or hearts and stars.

“y/n look at my portrait of you.” He proudly shows of the poorly-made distorted drawing he made of you, which he left next to your recent math notes.

“I guess you can call me picasso, aye”

“it looks horrendous and oh my god stop drawing over my notes!”

He just wouldn’t stop bothering you, no matter how many times you told him to stop, he’d continue doing it anyways. He’d simply laugh it off when you were furious.

Later in 10th grade. Your class had football for PE. You were assigned as the goal-keeper of your team while gyuvin was one of the strikers of the opposing team.

There was one point left for your team to win, you were determined to make sure your team would take the win for today.

Gyuvin was surprisingly good, being one of the best players hard carrying the other team. 

He speedily kicked the ball through the opposing team, swiftly dodging their every move as he passes through them.

He was getting nearer and nearer and you bend your knees, preparing your stance, ready to catch that ball in your hands.

He was finally near you and with the speed and momentum, he kicked the ball immediately towards you. 

You were about to catch that ball but it was moving at an alarmingly fast rate. 

Before you could even catch it, it had unfortunately landed on your face. 

Although you were happy he didn’t make the goal and his team lost, in the end you suffered from a terrible headache and a painful nosebleed.

He apologized and apologized and even stayed by you in the clinic but you ignored him, thinking that he might’ve done it on purpose knowing how competitive he was.

You were furious and you were sure you’d be out to get him the next time.

In eleventh grade, he asked you if he could switch seats with you for one class to sit with his best friend, junhyeon. You agreed and didn’t think much about it.

Until next period came and you arrived back to your seat, gyuvin had drawn a smiley, leaving a little note saying “don’t sulk anymore” with some bonus pencil shavings on your desk. This was the final straw for you and it was enough to rile you up.

You went to gyuvin and yelled at him, telling him to stay away from you and your things.. He simply scratched his head and flashed you his silly smile in return, saying a little sorry. You were furious but he was still giggling while you were boiling in anger. He was the most unserious person you have ever encountered in your life.

He’d always do something odd and you’ve told him off so many times and he’d somehow just play it cool, laughing at you when you’re mad.

You truly couldn’t stand his antics, always ranting about him to your friends. They all never really understood why and said your reasons were just stupid but gyuvin somehow always got on your nerves in everything he does. He was your (one-sided)arch nemesis all throughout high school. You wished to never see him ever again after. 

present.

You are now a second year in college.It was a time for you to get serious and work hard as your future and career was now on the line.

You dedicated all your time and effort into studying and your other passions. Your best friend, woonggi has been pestering you to go out on a date with someone for the past year. He had offered to set you up on a date numerous times and each time, you rejected.

However there came a time where you asked woonggi for help on getting respondents on a survey you needed for a subject. He was an expert in socializing and was friends with almost every first year student so he would be a huge help. He continuously rejected your request out of spite for not accepting his date offers.

You had gotten desperate to the point you begged him, saying that you’ll finally accept his date offer in exchange. That’s when he agreed to finally help you.

So here you are. All glammed up, dragging yourself to the restaurant where your date was set. Woonggi said your date had picked the restaurant that was located across your campus so you were grateful it wasn’t much of a hassle to get here. 

You enter the place, finding it to be quite fancy yet also campy with the restaurant being decorated in an old-school sorta style. With vintage red chairs and white clothed tables, some antiques being displayed in the corners and some retro-esque patterns on the walls.

You figured your date was perhaps old-fashioned.

Anyways, the waiter in front welcomes you and leads you to your seat where you nervously wait for your date.

Another thing, you had absolutely no idea who your date was. Woonggi had only told you a few things about your date, one that it was his roommate, two, he was a very handsome man and other than that, your date was really a big question mark. 

Deep inside, you were a little excited. Although you dread the thought of going to a date or the idea of romance in general, having absolutely zero romantic experiences or crushes in your life, you decided to give it a chance to see where it can take you. It was a small date and you were sure that it wouldn’t be serious so it probably wouldn’t hurt to try.

5 minutes had passed since the time you’ve set. He’s not here. It was only a few minutes so it’s probably fine.

15 minutes passed. You were getting slightly impatient but you gave him the benefit of the doubt, hoping that he didn’t stood you up because you wouldn’t want to waste your time waiting. You order your meal already, hoping he’d show up anytime soon.

35 dreadful minutes passed. A bunch of people came rolling in the restaurant and it was starting to get busy. You started getting really impatient. You text woonggi, asking him if your date was still planning going to show up. (Which at this point, you hoped he wouldn’t come so you could leave.) he tells you that your supposed date hasn't been responding to him either and insists that you wait because he might’ve finished classes late since it was lunch time anyways but you were tired of sitting there alone while waiting. You texted woonggi to tell him to move the date or to just simply ask for another favor.

So you stood up, ready to pack up your things but you then hear the sound of the front door ringing. 

You stop in your tracks when you hear the front doorbel ring, spotting the man by the front door. His hair was light brown and he was dressed quite nicely in a black sweater with a white button-up under it paired with a pair of black wide pants and a beige coat. He was talking to the waiter at the front so you weren’t able to clearly see his face.

The waiter turns their back and leads the man, finally revealing his face.

Your mouth opens in shock when you meet eye-to-eye with him. 

Surprise Surprise

It was you the person you hate the most in the world, your (one-sided) enemy gyuvin. 

You hadn’t seen him since senior year of high school, surprised to know that he was going to the same college as you when you never really saw him across the campus.

You mentally curse at yourself for agreeing to this date, you preferred to have failed your class rather than go on a date with him.

You both settle down into your seats and gyuvin apologizes. “hey I’m so sorry, I uh was doing some schoolwork in the library before getting here and I wasn’t looking at the time so i got carried away.” he scratches his neck and awkwardly smiles.

Dead silence fills the air, an awkward tension rising between the two of you. You hadn’t seen each other in so long and after what happened last time in high school, you didn’t know how to stir up a casual conversation.

“Anyways I didn’t really expect to meet you here y/n, long time no see.” He says and you nod, giving him a small smile, trying to hide the fact that you were lowkey annoyed at him for being late mixed with the fact you were also nervous now that you’re on a date with your proclaimed high school arch nemesis.

“Well how have you been?” He asks. 

“I’m actually majoring in BS psych, I guess I would say it’s been fun but really busy. I’m still adjusting around here, you know it’s really different from our hometown. And to be honest, I didn’t expect you to go this school, yujin told me you weren’t going to move.” You say and He lets out a light chuckle.

“I’m taking up law here and I didn’t expect to either, I was also terrified of moving but I changed my mind, I think it’s a great choice. It's been really fun.” He laughs.

Your younger brother, yujin was a close friend of gyuvin’s, from being in the same football team in your old school. You initially wanted to stay at your old school, concerned that your younger brother would have a hard time adjusting to going to school alone but at the same time, you wanted to move to a school with a new environment and a better program. Yujin really didn’t want you to move, being the clingy little brother he was but yujin was a teenager and was already a mature boy so you told he would probably adjust well without you anyways and you weren’t always going to be around him.

“Oh how is yujinie by the way! You probably miss him, don’t you?”Gyuvin teases.

“Oh he’s all grown up. Honestly, he was annoying as hell but I do miss my little brother, I hadn’t seen him so long cause you know, college. But I’ll probably go see him during summer break.” You say. You haven’t seen yujin for about three months as you barely had the time to go back home due to the overwhelming number of deadlines and projects you had this year. College was a huge pain in the ass and you were excited for the upcoming summer break.

“Ah I see, I miss him too.” He says as he once again digs into his meal. 

“Woonggi’s your roommate, right?” He nods as he takes a sip of water from his glass.

“How did he get you on this date? Or what was your reason for going? I kinda just went because he begged me for the past year to go one, oh my god.” He lets out a small nervous laugh. You wondered why woongi so desperately wanted you to see gyuvin for the past year.

“Oh uh about that, it’s really embarrassing but I asked him to set me up on one. It wasn’t that I was so desperate, I just wanted to meet new people yeah well ironically he set me up with someone I’ve known and  my long-time high school crus-“ He coughs at the last word and his cheeks unexpectedly start heating up. He lightly pounds his chest as he chokes.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” you ask him if he’s okay and you give him his glass of water. He nods as he hurriedly gulps the glass of water.

“long-time high school crusmate, I mean classmate, that’s what I was supposed to say by the way!” He says, seemingly panicked for some reason.

You arrive back to your dorm, ready to bury yourself into your bed after haivng a long day and that one unexpected and weird date with gyuvin.

You were glad it was over. As you had finally laid your back on the bed comfortably, your phone rang. You grab your phone and to your surprise, it was your brother calling, he barely called you and often, it would’ve been you reaching out to him.

“Yujin! How are you, it’s been awhile.why are you calling me for the first time in like forever. You missed me so much didn’t you?.”

“Ahh I’m fine and ew no, uh I just wanted to ask you if were free for the summer?”

“Of course! I’m on break.”

“Uh hanbin hyung is inviting us to come over for a week-long outing in the summer.”

“Oh that’s interesting..who’ll be there?”

“Well all the other hyungs from the football team as well as some of their friends and my other friends. He told me that you can invite yours as well! i think., jiwoong, matthew, of course hanbin oh and! gyuvin hyung.” You felt nervous when he brought up the last name. You were certain that you weren’t going to see him again but to spend time with him for another two weeks after spending one hour was dreadful hour today? 

“Oh..uh wait I’m not sure if I’ll go.”

“But you said you that you were free and you know we haven’t seen each other in so long, we’ll probably only spend time together during the outing..” he whined.

Well you truly didn’t want to be around gyuvin but you couldn’t bare to not see yujin anymore because you’ve missed your brother so much and he missed you too. Yujin was all that mattered.

“Okay. Fine, Oh god you’re so clingy”

✧ — masterlist | next

#zb1 #zerobaseone #gyuvin #zb1 angst #zb1 imagines #boys planet imagines #kim gyuvin #zb1 fluff #boys planet #beplernet #zb1 fics #fluff #angst #summer flame - gyuvin

[salternateunreality2]

Very very AU, please ignore the fact it makes no sense.

So Zack was selected for SOLDIER programme and he's freshly 3rd class. Congrats, Zack! He's meeting our lovely professor Hojo for his, uh... "vitamin" shots, but he's not fully enhanced yet. He's doing fine, tho.

Nah, just kidding, he's not doing fine. He promised to help his mom, he has to study for an exam (yes they still have to finish school) and he started going on missions more frequently.

Of course Zack planned everything perfectly, he'll just have to be in 2 places at once. When the day came, however, he realised it wasn't a good plan. Who could have thought.

So he does what any reasonable person would do and asks his friend to pretend to be him. It's a low priority mission to kill some monsters in the Slums and he can lend his helmet that covers the entire face. A foolproof plan.

How does it go?

Kunsel: Oh hi, "Zack", how are you today? Glad to see you FINALLY took my advice about appropriate head gear.

"Zack": *grunt*

Kunsel: You're looking kinda...half your normal size, are you eating enough, "Zack"?

"Zack": *huff*

Kunsel: And my, so talkative today, it's almost like you're not yourself. Do you need to go lie down, "Zack"?

"Zack": *growl*

Kunsel: *Sigh* Just. Stick behind me kid, this'll be good experience and you're not...WHAT THE SHIT?!

"Zack": *zips around Kunsel at a speed usually not seen in unenhanced humans* *stabbing, growling, slashing, feral whirlwind* *gets bitten* *bites back*

Kunsel: ...

"Zack": *kills the last monster with his bare hands* Hrmph.

Kunsel: ...

"Zack": *picks up his sword that he forgot in his rabid rampage, wipes it off on his pants*

Kunsel: Ok, that action tracks. Can you at least wipe it off on the leg that *didn't* get bitten?

"Zack": *looks down* *grunts*

Kunsel: FFS.

Thankfully, Kunsel had healing materia on him (he was on assignment with Zack, of course he had healing materia on him), but he insisted on taking pictures of "Zack" covered in blood and the wound up close before casting.

Kunsel kept the young man hostage in Kunsel and Zack's shared dorm room so he could shower and change without getting in trouble for impersonating a SOLDIER. Unfortunately for both Zacks, it wound up taking just the right amount of time for Zack to return and Angeal to get out of a meeting.

Cue two very spiky, very sullen young men sitting on a crappy Shinra dorm room bed, one with his leg elevated against his will, being lectured by Angeal AND Kunsel.

Zack: but d- ANGEALLLLLL, he did great! He beat all the monsters and didn't cause problems! Heck, he should be getting his injections, not scolded.

Kunsel: *holding up his PHS* Zack. Look at this. Look this mangled piece of flesh. Can you even tell what body part it's supposed to be?!

Cloud: it's fine now though *tries to put leg down*

Angeal: NO. Cadet Strife, you elevate that limb IMMEDIATELY.

Cloud: *huff* *complies*

#ff7 #cloud strife #zack fair #angeal hewley #kunsel #kunsel ff7

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Doctor Who, but Chronologically 27

JOYOUS NEWS!!! We are now seeing our first two-parter that is

A) Actually supposed to be a two-parter, and

B) Set in the same time period so we can watch them back to back like you're meant to.

It's just nice to have a bit of normalcy in this deeply stupid watch order.

Anyway: Family of Blood. We pick up where we left off. Tim, aka the boy with the fob watch from Love, Actually, opens it just slightly, which is distracting enough to the Family that Martha promptly punches Mother firmly in the solar plexus, steals her shrimp-shaped gun, and takes her hostage.

"You won't shoot!" says Son. "You're scared!"

"Yes, guns and fear are a famously winning combination, Mummy's Little Genius," says Martha, and tells the Doctor to get everyone else out.

He does not. Human Doctor is still a trembling useless wimp. Instead, Nurse Joan the Love Interest takes over, and herds everyone out.

... and then we get the first of many Very Upsetting Scenes in this episode, as the Doctor turns back to Martha, who is still holding the Family at gunpoint.

"What about you?" he asks.

And Martha visibly steels herself, doesn't look away, and says perfectly evenly, "Mr Smith, I think you need to get your lady friend to safety, don't you?"

And he leaves her.

... fuck me, this one has more emotional resonance than that time Amy got shot by her plastic fiance

ANYWAY

Martha is then menaced by a scarecrow and yet still manages to get away. To their credit, the Doctor an Joan are waiting for her outside, at least, and they all run back to the school where the Doctor gets all the school boys to unload the guns and get ready to fight in preparation for Very Upsetting Scene #2. But just before it, we get given an emotionally charged warmup that punches our hearts out the backs of our ribcages like Mortal Kombat characters, as my excellent friend Maia once put it, because as the Family gather outside with their scarecrow army, the headmaster goes out to talk to them.

It's such a good exchange and so incredibly acted and edited that I literally looked up the quote:

Headmaster: Well I warn you, the school is armed. Brother: All your little tin soldiers. But tell me sir, will they thank you? Headmaster: I don’t understand. Brother: What do you know of history, sir? What do you know of next year? Headmaster: You’re not making sense, man— Brother: 1914, sir. Because the Family has travelled far and wide looking for Mr. Smith, and oh the things we have seen. War is coming. In foreign fields, war of the whole wide world with all your boys falling down in the mud. Do you think they will thank the man who taught them it was glorious?

I literally cannot convey how well delivered both that "Tell me sir, will they thank you?" and that "Do you think they will thank the man who taught them it was glorious?" is. The little blond inbred lad who loves dragons on Game of Thrones. By god. Sweet christ does that boy deliver the hell out of those lines. My husband literally GASPED.

Meanwhile, we have what passes for a pallette cleanser in this episode - Martha is tearing the study apart looking for the watch, and Joan the nurse comes to speak to her. Martha tells her she's a doctor from the future.

"Don't be ridiculous," Joan says. "You can't be a doctor, you're a woman and black."

I mean I know I said Freema Agyeman is not... the BEST at acting. And I stand by it. But the LOOK she levels in this scene, my lord. Somehow, in spite of only saying the words "Oh, do you think?", she manages to convey the sentiment "Let me just disembowel this bitch real quick."

"Bones of the hand," Martha says, and lists them all.

"You read that in a book," says Joan.

"YES, TO PASS MY EXAMS" says Martha.

Anyway, it's enough to convince Joan that her new boyfriend is an amnesiac alien (we've all been there, sis), so she goes off to talk to the Doctor. She asks him to describe Nottingham; but he can't, other than facts. And he has the first hint of a breakdown. He does NOT want to be a Time Lord.

"But you know this is wrong," Joan says. "These are children, going to fight the Family. The Doctor wouldn't want it. Nor would John Smith."

Tim is setting up with Classic White Bully Hutchison. But he decides that he needs to do something else with the watch to help. "It's okay!" he tells Hutchison. "You and I will survive this! I've seen us in a WW1 trench in 1914!" and then runs off, as though that is remotely comforting.

Which sets us up nicely for Very Upsetting Scene #2. Outside, a truly unfeasibly large number of scarecrows has now amassed (when did the family make all these scarecrows??!?) The shooting begins, a hymn playing over the top as these weeping, sobbing children load bullets into machine guns and fight supernatural terrors...

And the Doctor, standing there with a loaded rifle, cannot bring himself to shoot a single shot.

Fucking. Harrowing.

Anyway then Daughter-of-Mine turns up and shoots the headmaster for not listening to black women or somethign IDK Martha told him to stay back, he told her to fuck off, the Daughter killed him. Seems fair. Freaks the Doctor out though so everyone retreats into the school, the Family in hot pursuit, and then it's Chaos for a bit until the Father turns up with the TARDIS.

And then we get Very Upsetting Scene #3, as the Doctor cries and begs to be allowed to stay human. A good man, with a good life, in love. This segues into Very Upsetting Scene #4, where Joan takes them to the house of the Daughter on the well-reasoned grounds that the real child who used to be the Daughter had parents who would have tried to stop their little girl from leaving, and been killed. The Doctor lashes out at Martha.

"You're his companion!" he rages. "What good are you, exactly? Why does he need you?"

It is SO fucking upsetting. Poor Martha.

Anyway then Tim turns up with the watch, so THAT becomes Very Upsetting Scene #5, as the Family start bombing the village i.e. St Ffagan's village square, and Martha is telling him to open the fucking watch, and the Doctor is now screaming and begging and pleading to be allowed to live because he doesn't want to go and become someone else. But Joan realises he has to - otherwise, the Family will consume a Time Lord, and then they'll live forever and destroy everything.

She tries to convince him. He says he wants to stay and love her, but knows he won't as the Doctor. And then they touch the watch together and so they both see the life they could have had together INCLUDING THE CHILDREN WHO NOW WON'T EXIST and fuck me we all need therapy forever. Who okayed this. Who allowed this on television. Why must David Tennant be so good at acting.

So it's a bit of a shame it's then all downhill from there tbh.

Obviously, he opens the watch, although it happens off screen, so in this watch order we have had THREE SEPARATE WATCH STORIES but still haven't seen one be opened. He blows up the Family's space ship, and then... well, it's a bit weird. Bit fairytale. He suspends each of them in time in some way so they'll be imprisoned for all eternity, including trapping the Daughter in mirrors... somehow, bit vague on the details. "He ran from us to be kind," the narration says dramatically. "To spare us the rage of a Time Lord" and whoa there Mary Sue, we're back on this bullshit.

A final scene with Joan, with upsetting exchanges like

"Could you change back?"

"Yes"

"Will you?"

"No"

It's another difficult scene, but then it ruins itself by doing the old "People here died because you came and that's your fault" thing, which is eternally boring and terrible and I wish successive showrunners would stop doing it. The Tortured Man Pain side of the Mary Sue. Fuck off.

Anyway, the Doctor and Martha hug it out back at the TARDIS, which is sweet. Tim turns up.

"I've seen the future," he declares. "And I know now what I must do."

You're very intense, Tim.

The Doctor gives him the old watch, and away they go. I hope they're off to an ice cream planet where twelve-fingered aliens give great massages. Martha needs some serious aftercare.

Flash forward. Tim and Hutchison are staggering through a WW1 trench. Tim realises it's the moment from the watch vision he saw, and makes them dive right out the way of a shell. He saves Hutchison. Then Hutchison says "I'm not going to make it."

"Oh yes you are," declares Tim. "Didn't I promise you, all those years ago?"

Tim. It was last year.

ANYWAY this episode was fucking harrowing. We've now seen what the fob watches can do! But no further plot threads I don't think, nor any resolved, so the list remains... extensive.

“She” (an unknown person) is returning (perhaps River returned as Missy. Maybe Me? Maybe Clara???!)

There is something on Donna’s back

An entire planet, Pyrovilia, just… disappeared, somehow. (Maybe because the TARDIS is exploding??? Saturnine was also lost, and that WAS because of the TARDIS exploding. The lion man’s planet was also lost but he was a bit of a knob about it if I’m honest.)

Amy is maybe dead (she’s not)

The Doctor has been cubed (he’s out, but how?)

River is possibly blown up  (unless she’s Missy)

The TARDIS has blown up  (It’s fine now. Except it’s sort of melting now because it’s corrupted, but it’s fine again)

The universe appears to have ended  (the universe is back again)

The Doctor has employed(?) Nardole (And Nardole was “reassembled???”)

There’s a vault in the TARDIS and it contains Missy but we don’t know why (sometimes she knocks for the bants)

What has happened to all these companions and where are the new ones coming from?

There’s an immortal Viking girl now. Her name is Me and she’s now looking after the people the Doctor abandons

What’s With The Silence?

Why was Rory entirely unconcerned by the entire world suddenly going silent when that is Not Normal and should have been, at the very least, extremely disconcerting?

What did the Doctor do to Queen Lizzie One?

Who is Captain Jack Harkness? (Is he the one who gave the companions a warning about the lone cyberman?)

Why is Amy seeing a one-eyed woman in a vanishing window?

What’s with the Doctor’s future involving getting shot by an astronaut?

Is Amy pregnant and why is it inconclusive?

Who is Sarah-Jane Smith?

How is the Doctor Bill’s teacher and why/where does he have an office?

What is going on with the Cyber War and the Cyberium???

Who did the Doctor lose to Cyber Conversion?

What happened with the Other Cyber War?

What happened with the Third War that deleted the void?

Why does Rose seem particularly important?

What’s with the Weeping Angel statues, and why can’t you blink at them?

What order do these Doctors go in? (Eccleston, Tennant, uncertain, Smith, Capaldi.)

Which companion just… forgot the Doctor, and how?

Yaz and Vinder are about to die as Mori/Mwri/Muuri

There is a Lupari shield around Earth.

What’s a Time War?

What’s the Rift?

What’s Bad Wolf?

What happened with Amy’s pregnancy?

In which war did the Doctor become a war criminal, and how?

Who is the Master?

Why has Amy forgotten Rory?

Is Rory plastic or not?

Why is the Doctor sulking on a cloud?

How exactly does the Doctor have a cloud?

What exactly happened with Strax to, uh, tame him?

Which friend killed Strax?

Which friend brought Strax back?

Where did this lesbian lizard and human couple come from?

What happened with Clara as Souffle Girl and the Daleks?

How does Clara actually join?

Why so many Claras?

Why is Missy apparently in robo-heaven?

Why is probably!Missy pushing Clara and the Doctor together?

What is Trensilor and what happened there?

Who is Handles?

The Doctor is about to be dissolved by a beautiful geode man

The universe is being crushed by the Flux

Will the Doctor open the fobwatch?

Sontarans are invading Earth again

Who is Kate?

Who is Osgood? Another name of Clara’s again?

The fuck is the deal with the Grand Serpent

Does Martha get to go to an ice cream planet with 12-fingered massage aliens?

#doctor whom #and yet we are continuing #long post

[authorautumnbanks]

How To Tame A Sorcerer (42)

Series Master list

Kagome gives Shoko a sheepish grin as she wrings her hands, not sure what to do with them or why she feels as though she's announcing to her mom that she's been having sex. Shoko, bless her, just stares at Satoru in disbelief. The shock brings some color to Shoko's face.

"Holy shit," Shoko says, after a beat as though it's finally hit her that Satoru is not playing a prank on her. Kagome flushes under the scrutiny. "Let me get this straight." Shoko wets her lips and holds one hand out. "A demon kidnapped you because you're pregnant with Gojo's spawn?"

"Hey!" Satoru speaks up, pouting.

"You want to confirm said pregnancy," Shoko continues, ignoring Satoru's outburst. She takes a step forward and places her hands on Kagome's shoulders, pulling her in closer as though to whisper a secret. There's a hint of nicotine coating Shoko's breath. Kagome tries to hold back the urge to wrinkle her nose, but Shoko is perceptive and raises a brow in response. "Won't the Gojo elders have a field day with this?"

"I don't…" Kagome glances at Satoru, who seems far more interested in the medical tools than Shoko's small breakdown.

"Having a child out of wedlock and to a non-sorcerer at that."

"I bet we would have fewer people going rogue if the higher-ups would back off," Satoru quips, pretending to slice the air with a scalpel. Even though Kagome cannot see his eyes behind that blindfold, she imagines his eyes are lit with mirth. "Besides, I asked Gome-chan to marry me before all of this." Satoru grabs a pair of scissors, some forceps, and juggles the tools along with the scalpel - all while humming, here comes the bride.

Kagome clucks her tongue. So, he was paying attention as she watched a bunch of cheesy romantic comedies. Shoko directs Kagome's attention back to her. She'll address his non-proposal later. No need to have such a serious discussion in Shoko's work area.

"Thank goodness, this child will have half of you. I don't think the jujutsu world could handle a mini-Satoru." Shoko shudders and then squeezes Kagome's shoulders. "Alright, I need you to drop your pants and get up on the exam table," Shoko says. She snaps the blue gloves on, the sound ricocheting in the room.

"Excuse me?" Satoru tilts his head, still juggling the tools.

"It's for the ultrasound," Kagome says, unbuttoning her jeans and slipping off her sandals. Back in her world, she accompanied Eri to her first ultrasound appointment as Eri's boyfriend - if he could really be called that - was too busy to take off work, and stated that Eri shouldn't be getting attached so quickly. She peels off of her underwear, keenly aware of how Satoru's eyes are tracking her every movement.

"Need help getting on the table?" he asks.

"Down," Kagome warns, settling on the exam table. She places the white sheet over her lower half and levels Satoru with a glare. Someone has to rein him in from time to time. The man insisted on cooking breakfast earlier, fretting over her as though she couldn't pick up a spatula. Kagome rolls her eyes.

Satoru is good - great even at a lot of things, but who the heck burns eggs?

"Never thought I'd get to use this," Shoko says as she walks over. She picks up an instrument that honestly looks more like a dildo and the condom she covers it with does not help. "Satoru, could you stop messing with my tools and cut the lights." Shoko turns her attention back to Kagome. "Blink twice if he's holding you, hostage," she whispers.

Kagome snorts, thinking back to how she fell into Satoru's lap, and even back then he wasn't too keen on her walking away. "He's not that bad," she whispers back, leaning towards Shoko while staring at Satoru.

"I don't like this," Satoru says, coming to stand near her. He points at both of them. "You two, ganging up on me." He places a kiss on Kagome's forehead, brushing her bangs back.

"I think I get it now," Shoko murmurs. She gives them a soft smile. "This might be a little cold," she warns as she applies the lubricant. Kagome nods and then looks at the monitor. The room goes silent, or maybe it's because she's holding her breath as the monitor flickers. Her stomach somersaults.

"Is that…" Satoru trails off. Kagome is distantly aware of the rustling from his blindfold.

"Your little sweet pea," Shoko chirps. "A little concerning that demons could sense a pregnancy this early."

"She was a fox," Kagome replies, breathless. Warmth spreads from her chest all the way to her toes. Not that she didn't believe Yumi, but actually seeing her child - even though he or she really did look like a little blob, was something else. Beside her, Satoru goes still. She tears her gaze from the monitor to look up at him. A faint dust of pink coats his cheeks, his mouth is slightly agape, and shining out of his eyes is unfiltered love.

"I can print off copies for your own records, but I will not save anything."

"Thank you," Kagome says, speaking up for both of them. It's not every day that something catches Satoru's tongue. The man has a witty response to everything.

"Hey, Kagome," Satoru says. Kagome hums in acknowledgment. "Does this mean you'll be calling me Daddy from now on?"

"Get out," Kagome and Shoko say in agreement. Satoru huffs.

"So rude."

Shoko cleans up the workspace and turns her back to give them some privacy. "Satoru, don't you have missions today?" Kagome watches him as she slips her underwear and pants back on.

"I always have work," he says, waving his hand. "But I can rearrange my schedule for wifey."

"You didn't tell the kids you would be late," Kagome states, though it comes off more like a question.

"I did not." Satoru takes the ultrasound pictures from Shoko and puts them in his jacket pocket. "Ijichi can drive you back to the apartment. And don't worry about dinner, we can pick up something on the way to the estate."

"We're meeting them tonight?" Kagome groans. "But if we are meeting them tonight, wouldn't it be rude to not eat with them?"

"I don't trust them," Satoru says.

"They might try to poison you since you're not a Gojo," Shoko offers. She twirls the unlit cigarette between her fingers.

"What's stopping them from trying that if I was a Gojo?" Kagome crosses her arms. These elders sounded worse than the demons. At least with them, she knew what she was getting into.

"Don't take it the wrong way," Satoru starts, "but as my wife - in their eyes, you would belong to me. And hurting you would be a personal offense to me and a declaration of war." He walks over and places a finger to her lips, shushing her protests. "That's just an added benefit, not the sole reason why I want to marry you."

"Holy shit, I get it now," Shoko says.

Kagome uncrosses her arms and wraps them around Satoru, resting her head on him. "So, I get to slap some people tonight?"

"I support this." He places a kiss on top of her head. "I'll walk you out, and once you get home, you and baby get some rest." He ushers them out, waving goodbye to Shoko.

"Hey, Kagome," Shoko says, right before Kagome walks out of the door, "thank you."

For what? Kagome thinks. She should thank Shoko for taking the time out to see her. Shoko's gaze is on Satoru, though her message was towards Kagome. A small smile breaks off across her face. With all the pressure resting on Satoru's shoulders, she's grateful that he has friends he can depend on.

"Of course," she replies. She'll always have Satoru's back.

#gojo satoru x kagome #gojo x kagome #crossover pairings #jujutsu kaisen x inuyasha #kagome higurashi #inuyasha fanfiction #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru #how to tame a sorcerer #inuyasha x jujutsu kaisen