#he starts as a guest lecturer (which we have already seen him be good at in celestial navagation) and it talks off from there i think

[aspergerasparagus]

Swan Song Ch.1

P encounters a new guests at the Hotel, pity they weren't as welcoming as the others had been...

(PxMale OC fanfic cos. Oh no.)

The rain was already starting to fall again as the puppet made his way back to Hotel Krat. Although he couldn’t feel the chill the rain should bring, it was still unpleasant nonetheless, wet clothes hindered his movements and the cobbled streets of Krat made an excellent slip hazard when they were soaked. He would need to make sure he changed as soon as he got in or risk a lecture from his Father about leaving puddles around the hotel or possibly causing rust or something to the legion arm. Glancing back once more towards the city of Krat to make sure no stragglers had decided to follow him, the puppet pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the hotel. He was greeted by the usual warm and inviting atmosphere as he entered, or what he had been told was the feeling one was meant to experience. Placing his sword down by the entrance he prised the sodden coat from his shoulders, giving it a quick shake, as he had seen others do, before he started to head towards his Father’s office to see if he had any other tasks for him and to change. He had barely made it a few steps before a familiar polite robotic voice called out to him.

“Welcome back good Sir. I’m sure you didn’t encounter too many trials this evening?” Polendina spoke warmly as he turned to face his fellow puppet. Pino merely nodded his head, confirming that tonight had gone without any major inconveniences. Unlike the concierge of the Hotel Krat, who could speak freely and unabated, Pino seemed to lack any voice. Maybe an oversight in his creation or maybe his Father believed he didn’t need to waste time with idle chit chat but the hotel residents had grown accustomed to it.

“That is good to hear, the sooner the frenzy is dealt with the sooner this terrible ordeal will be over with. Oh, also on the subject of good news, we received another guest who was able to make their way to the Hotel. Apparently they had heard that it was a safe place which the puppets wouldn’t be able to breach.” Polendina’s bright tone faltered ever so slightly as he relayed the news, causing Pino to cock his head slightly. Any survivor should be a cause for celebration but it seemed something was on the other puppet’s mind. As if noticing this, Polendina let out a small sigh, his head glancing up to where, Pino presumed, Lady Antonia was staying most likely reminiscing over her portrait, as if he didn’t want her to overhear him.

“The truth is Sir, that the new guest is causing me some… concerns.” Speaking hesitantly, the puppet toyed with its hands as he seemed to try to come up with the right words but to not speak ill of a human. “Outwardly he has been nothing but a gentleman to the other guests who have taken refuge within the Hotel, especially towards Lady Antonia. But I do feel a certain… hostility towards myself and Pulcinella. Of course this is to be expected to some degree given the circumstances, but I feel it might be something to be wary of.” Concern had wandered into the puppet’s voice as he spoke. Taking his words to mind, Pino nodded and saw the concierge relax slightly, seemingly put more at ease. That was until a snide voice called out from behind them.

“I thought puppets were not able to talk bad about humans, but apparently the frenzy even caused those not out killing to lose their manners. How unsightly.” The puppets looked up in unison as a figure stood over them, leering down at them from the floor above. The new guest had been eavesdropping them it seemed and had now found it a good time to introduce himself. Giving them a coy grin he headed their way, the walking stick he carried making a dull thump as it collided with the wooden floors of the hotel. “There is me thinking that a puppet of your status, would know not to talk about guests behind their back, Mr Concierge. That is something a human would do and we are all aware that you are very much not that. Shouldn’t you be above idle gossip and all that?” He spoke with an arrogant tone as he talked down to the puppet, who merely remained impassive not allowing his words to affect him.

As he reached them, Pino could now make out the new guests more clearly. He was a blonde gentleman, with soft curls that cascaded down into a loose ponytail that draped over his shoulder. He wore fine clothes, those fit for someone of a noble bloodline, that had obviously been tailored for him and well taken care of, and in his hand he carried an unusual walking stick. But what drew Pino’s attention the most was the face of the stranger before him, if it was not for the obnoxious grin plastered on it, Pino would have called him handsome. Soft features, delicate eyelashes and piercing gray eyes, he was surely someone who could turn heads, if that was the correct use of the phrase he had learnt from Venigni.

Stopping in front of the puppet himself, Pino found himself being inspected, the guests looking him up and down as if he was some sort of curio on display. Nothing more than an object. He didn’t even react when the man grabbed him by his chin, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at him. It didn’t bother him. Why should it? He was a puppet, just a robot with a purpose who just happened to look more human than the others of his kind.

“Such a pity that a handsome face like this was wasted on a puppet. Still it must make it easier to pretend amongst the real humans that you are one. A wolf in sheep’s clothing I believe is the appropriate saying?” The snide jab merely passed over Pino. The man could say what he wanted, it didn’t matter to him. Humming to himself the man turned on his heel as he headed towards the stairs. “Pretty little puppet, shame there’s nothing much going on upstairs. Really Mr Concierge, you should teach him some words. It’s rude to not speak when spoken to you know.” Stopping on the top of the stairs he glanced back over his shoulder a cruel smile playing on his lips as his eyes narrowed dangerously at Pino. “Have him teach you my name at least okay? I prefer to be addressed as Mr Swan. See if you can do that for me okay my pretty little puppet.”

And with that the man, known as Mr Swan disappeared up the stairs towards the depths of the hotel leaving the two puppets alone.

#my writing #lies of p #pinocchio #lies of p oc

[lesbianelliebartlet]

my favourite josh headcanon is that after santos he teaches politics at university

#he loves teaching! he loves sharing his knowledge and seeing people grow! #i also feel like he would vet his classroom for republicans before he answered people's questions about campaigning and winning elections #he starts as a guest lecturer (which we have already seen him be good at in celestial navagation) and it talks off from there i think #and all his students are like #i know he used to be one of the most powerful politicians but he also came in wearing mismatched shoes and tripped over the doorway #josh lyman

[beels-burger-babe]

Of Jealousy and Friendship - Pt. 1

Topic number 2 won in the vote to be written next! So without further-a-do, let’s get going!...This ended up being a two part thing. Oh Well. Here’s part one. - B GN! MC Summary: MC makes a lower demon friend who may secretly be hoping for something more than friendship. The Demon Bros are not about to let this happen. Part Two: Here, Epilogue: Here It all started in magical potions. When you first arrived, the course wasn’t so bad since you took it with Beelzebub. The two of you always partnered up; the hour would consist of you jokingly scolding Beel for trying to eat ingredients and making light hearted jokes with one another whenever the teacher turned their back.  But once the second semester started, Beel was moved out of the course as it had gotten too expensive to keep him in a class where most of the subject matter was edible.  Which left you alone and bored in the classroom as the teacher went on and on about Mandrake roots and what they can be used for. You let out a heavy sigh and plopped your forehead onto the desk.  A soft snort came from beside you. You glanced over to see a demon with his feet propped up on his desk staring right back at you out of the corner of his dark green eyes. He smiled at you with a tilt of his head.  “The lectures are a total snooze fest right? I joined this class cause I thought we’d be making potions and causing stuff to explode. Not sitting here twisting our thumbs all day.” 

You bit back a laugh as you worried glanced over at the professor, who was none-the-wiser to the little conversation the two of you were sharing. You looked back over to the demon. His dark skin caused those hauntingly green eyes of his pop out at all who met his gaze, with carefully trimmed and styled black curls sitting stylishly on the top of his head.  There was a playful and mischievous energy to him that reminded you of Belphie, Asmo and Mammon.  “Unfortunately suffering through this section of class is mandatory to be allowed to mess around with the fun stuff.”  The demon groaned and threw his head back. “Urgh, that’s so unfair. What’s the worst that can happen? The potion explodes and kills us? Newsflash teach, we’re already dead.”  You couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out at that one.  “Well actually the worse that could happen, for you at least as I am a very mortal human, is that you’d suffer the consequences from one of the potions. Anything from shrinking to de-aging to charms, all kinds of things. I’ve seen the effects of a potion gone wrong a number of times during my time down here. Trust me; you don’t want to be on the receiving end.”  He looked over at you with an analytical eye as the corners of his lips tilted upwards. “So you’re the human that everyone’s talking about.” He trailed off, and glanced over at the teacher to make sure they weren’t looking before stretching out his hand towards you. “I’m Cane. You know despite being the talk of RAD, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone mention your name?”  You took his hand into your own and lightly shook it. “I’m MC.” 

Cane leaned back into his chair, “It’s a pleasure to finally put a name and face to that glowing reputation of yours, MC. I see your pretty good at this potions thing, and I hear that you’re a lot of fun. How about you meet me downtown for supper later and we can study and get to know each other a little better?”  Your initial instinct was to agree, but then you paused as you thought of the brothers. “I don’t know. I don’t think that Lucifer or the others would like it much if I went out on my own.”  The demon huffed and light heartedly rolled his eyes. “You won’t be alone, you’ll be with me. I may not be as powerful as them, but I’m still a pretty good fighter.” He teasingly placed a gentle punch onto your shoulder, “Besides, it’s not like they’re boss of you. Are you really going to let a bunch of snobby Lords keep you from making the best of your time in the Devildom?”  That last remark hit a nerve. If there was one thing that had spread quite quickly about you around RAD, it was that you were known for being a little reckless, prideful, and never being able to back down from a challenge, and boy did that statement have you itching to prove him wrong.  You smiled, a sharp dangerous smile, at Cane. “I’ll go. And we’re going to do so much more than just go to a lame restaurant and study. You want to have fun and take risks? We’ll have fun and take risks. Whatever you want to do...to a degree,” you added in quickly remembering that you were talking to a demon and if you didn’t implement any boundaries there was no telling what you’d get yourself into, “I’m in.”  Cane’s eyes sparkled as his smile widened. “Damn. I guess it’s true that you’re a bit of dare devil. Alright, you’re on. Meet me at Hell’s Kitchen a 4pm. We’ll study and hit the books as promised, but afterwards...Get ready for the night of your life.”  ***

The brothers were concerned. You had rushed into the House of Lamentation after school and sprinted to your room, changed out of your uniform and promptly shouted that you were “going out” before taking off before any of them could complain.  Mammon had tried to argue that someone should follow you, and while that wasn’t a terrible idea, Lucifer wanted to give you the question of the doubt. Worst case scenario, you come back home a little scratched up and learn your lesson about taking off into the dangers of the Devildom.  At least that’s what he had thought when you had initially left.  It was now bordering midnight, and you had yet to return home.  So yeah, the brothers were very concerned.  Mammon was pacing and ranting about how this all could’ve been avoided if they had only listened to him for once.  Leviathan was trying to distract himself with his game, but everyone could see the worried glances he kept throwing to the entrance and clock as the minutes ticked by.  Satan sat near where Mammon and would occasionally scold or correct him, and sometimes even throw in his own ideas on what could be done while he thumbed through a book on location spells.  Asmodeus was strangely quiet, sitting near the fire by himself with arms wrapped around his torso as he stared into the flames. He would occasionally move a hand to wipe at his face before it went right back to hugging himself.  Beelzebub had lost his appetite. He sat next to Belphie, taking comfort in his twin’s presence, while Belphegor pretended to be unbothered and asleep, even though his mind was racing with the many stupid situations you could’ve gotten yourself into.  And Lucifer...He just sat in a door near the entryway, his eyes fixed on the entrance as he silently waited.  Finally, just as the clock stroke midnight, they could hear your recognizable laugh from behind the door.  “Oh my god! That was incredible! I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun in life!” Leviathan stiffened at the statement, his hands gripping tighter onto his game.  “What did I tell you? I promised you the night of your life, and I sure as Diavolo always make sure to deliver,” everyone froze at the sound of the teasing male voice. “Though I didn’t expect the Seven Lords’ precious human to be a complete bad ass. You were amazing out there.”  Leviathan mumbled something before getting up and leaving the room. Mammon growled lowly and looked at the others, “Anyone know who the hell that is?”  Asmo finally stood, wiping at his face as he did, and began to stride towards the door, “Why don’t we find out?”  Without waiting for a response, Asmodeus swung the door open and pulled on a bright smile as he reached out and wrapped an arm around you. “MC, darling, you didn’t tell me you were bringing over guests! Don’t tell me you’re trying to have fun without me?”  You blinked up at the Asmo before smiling softly at his tactics. “Oh, hey Asmo! I didn’t expect you to be up. Cane here was just dropping me off.”  The demon in question didn’t even so much as stiffen as Asmodeus’s dangerous stare shifted over to him. Instead Cane stood there, relaxed, with a shit-eating grin on his face. Asmodeus raised an eyebrow at him and allowed a bit of his demonic aura to exude around him. “Oh really? At this time of night? Makes a demon wonder what kind of mischief the two of you had gotten up to,” while maintaining eye contact with Cane, Asmo rested his chin against your shoulder. “You know dear, if you wanted “fun” that badly all you had to do was ask. I assure you I could’ve shown you a much better time.” He purred and softly kissed your shoulder.  You shivered, missing the way Asmo stiffened as he noticed something, and swatted at the Avatar of Lust as you moved away from him. “Down Asmo. It’s nothing like that. Cane’s in my magical potions class. We went out to study together and decided to hit a couple clubs while we were out. No biggy.”  “If it’s ‘no biggy’ then why were you out all night without giving us any kind of warning of where you were going or how long you’d be out?” Everyone whirled around as Lucifer stood in the doorway with a frown etched on his face and his arms crossed. He took a step closer to you before freezing mid-step, his nose twitching. His eyes flared red as they fell onto Cane. The lower demon tensed and curled his hands into fists, but seemed to be refusing to back down. Lucifer snarled, “What exactly was it that you said the two of you were up to tonight?”  You frowned and stepped between Lucifer and your new friend. “Hey! Stop it! He didn’t do anything, if that’s what you’re implying. And I wasn’t aware that I needed permission for every single thing that I do!” You snapped poking his chest as you moved into his space. “So excuse me for wanting to go out and enjoy myself for once!”  Whatever fear Cane had been showing, quickly slipped away at seeing you stand your ground against the mighty first born. “Yeah. What they said.”  Lucifer growled and caught your hand into his own, pulling you close and leaning in, “You’d be wise to remember that you are in the Devildom and surrounded by beings that have no where near as good intentions as you’d assume. Being so reckless and naïve down here could get you killed again, I thought you had learned that.” His tone was cold and unapologetic as he practically spat the words in your face.  You glared at Lucifer as you yanked your hand out of his grasp. There was so many things you wanted to say to him, but none of them would be right to say in front of an audience. You huffed and turned to face Cane. “I am so sorry about those two. Thanks again for tonight and bringing me home. I’ll see you tomorrow in class, okay?”  Cane gave you a side smile as he scratched the back of his neck. “It’s nothing. I had a great time hanging out with you. Hopefully we can do again...under better circumstances. Goodnight MC.” He took a step towards you and pulled you into a hug.  You smiled, wondering how Lucifer and Asmo could be stirring up such a fuss about a guy who had been nothing but kind to you, and gently hugged him back.  What you couldn’t see, was Cane making direct eye contact with the two other demons, as one of his wrists gently brushed up and down you back and he very lightly nuzzled, so lightly that you could just barely feel it, his face against your neck.  “Hey, what’s takin’ everyone so- WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?!” Mammon stormed forward and yanked you out of the demon’s embrace, already changing into his demon form. “Who the hell do you think you are scenting our human, huh?!” He lifted Cane off the ground by the collar of his shirt, causing the lower demon growl as he scratched at Mammon’s hands.  You yanked on Mammon’s jacket and arms and tried to get him to back off. “Woah! Mammon, relax! It was just a hug!”  “No it wasn’t,” Satan grumbled as he and the rest of the brothers (excluding Leviathan who was now sulking in his room) stood in the door way. “The fact that you don’t know that makes this even worst. But this isn’t a conversation we should be having out here.” Beel stared down at the demon with a fierce glare. “You should leave while you’re still able. And if you know what’s best for you, you’ll stay away from MC.”  “Wha- Beel! Cut that out!”  Cane took a step backwards, fear beginning to spill into his expression as he finally realizes just how out-powered and out-numbered he is. Still, he was stubborn pain in the ass; it was part of the reason he had been so drawn to you in the first place as he related to your reckless habits. He held Beelzebub’s glare and returned it with one of his own. “I think that MC can choose for themself who they do and do not hang out with, thanks. They already said they wanted to see me tomorrow so they will. We’re friends after all. And classmates,” his grin sharpened as he continued. “I do have to thank you, Lord Beelzebub, for that opening in magical potions by the way. Never would’ve got in if you hadn’t been kicked out.”  Before he could say anymore, he was met with a punch in the face. Belphegore lazily shook out his hand and his looked at Cane with an unbothered expression. “I believe we told you to leave. Now get. The. Fuck. Out.”  Cane scoffed and turned to you once more. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Dare Devil.”  You would’ve snorted at the nickname, but you were to distracted from the brother’s behavior. “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow. Get home safe, Cane.” With another nod, the demon left; leaving you alone with six of the seven brothers bubbling with jealousy, anger, and concern.

#OBEY ME #shall we date obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me asmodeus #Obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #shall we date #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #fanfic #my writing #Of Jealousy and Friendship #Bumble 🐝 #bumble b #b writes #jealous #gender neutral main character #gn!mc #oc #crack taken seriously #demon brothers #obey me demon brothers

[reidscanehand]

The One Where Everyone Finds Out (Finale)

Episode 8 of The One Where Everyone Finds Out

Spencer Reid x BAUfem! Reader

(plus a little Morcia love because, as we all know, she is his God Given Solace). 

Category: Very, very fluffy. 

TW: mentions of Maeve’s death, cursing 

So, we’ve made it to the end. I cannot thank you all enough for making my first experience writing a series so incredibly fulfilling and positive. Thank you so much for reading! It’s been so delightful to celebrate reaching 1K followers by getting to interact with this delightful group of humans! 

Much love to you all xx 

Spencer Reid doesn’t talk much. Or, at least, he doesn’t talk much now. When you’d met him, when he’d guest lectured for Dr. Blake all those months ago, he’d been effusive to say the least. But he’d been through a lot since then, quite a lot, actually. When you’d joined the team, Alex had brought you up to date on the Spencer situation, explaining what had happened with Maeve. You felt bad for him, for losing a loved one in such a traumatic way, obviously, but also because it could not be particularly comforting to have everyone know your personal business. So, from the beginning of your work with the BAU, you’d worked hard to maintain a relationship with Spencer that was more cordial civility than guilt-ridden co-worker watching for, what it seemed the team thought to be, an inevitable breakdown. You didn’t push him, but you didn’t push anyone. The only one you really knew was Dr. Blake, and even with her you’d never known her on such a personal level as working with the BAU required. You’re honored to have been asked and quickly trained to join such an incredible team, but you’ve become rather hyper-self-conscious since starting work. Going from formal teaching assistant with a Masters in Psychological Linguistics to FBI profiler is a big leap for anyone, you suppose, but you’re worried that the good will of the team could run out at any moment. You keep your thoughts to yourself for the most part, helping with graphological profiles or translations as much as you can.  

So, no, Spencer Reid doesn’t talk much, but you don’t either. Which is perhaps why him speaking to you directly makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

“You know something, don’t you?” he whispers from behind you. You watch him bite back laughter as you jump away from him with a shudder.

“Uh,” you pant out, “um, I don’t...uh-I’m-I don’t know what you-”

“Don’t lie to me,” he replies, but it isn’t callous or harsh, just matter-of-fact. “I know you’ve seen something. Plus, you’re the only one that would be able to pull some information out of something like this.” You stare at him wide-eyed.

“Alex would have seen-”

“You forget that I’ve seen Alex look to you for linguistics work,” he interrupts again, only this time his tone is different. If you’re not wrong, it’s almost...teasing. “So, either you’re not saying what you’ve figured out or I’m wrong. And, no offense to you, but experience has taught me that it’s definitely more likely the former.” If you weren’t already blushing, the small smile he shoots you then would’ve definitely caused the tell-tale heat to rise in your cheeks.

“Um,” you manage to get out around your anxiety, “if...um, if th-the profile’s right and the u-unsub is from the continent of A-Africa, then i-it’s likely they’re f-from Papua New Guinea.”

Spencer’s watching you carefully, taking in everything you say and nodding slowly, “What makes you say that?”

“Th-there are over 820 i-indigenous l-languages spoken in Papua New Guinea. That’s why the unsub’s syntax k-keeps changing. They’re translating from one or two other languages into English.” You swallow loudly and he catches it, eyes snapping to meet yours again.

“I knew you knew something,” he reassures you gently. He takes a deep breath and steps slightly closer to you. It suddenly occurs to you how deeply intimate this is for this man. If it were anyone else, they would be holding your hand, grasping onto your shoulders. That’s the kind of weight this moment holds for Spencer and you’re a little overwhelmed by the action. He looks at his feet, shifting his weight on his heels before looking at you again. “I know it can be hard to figure out where you belong on a team like this, but...Y/N, don’t ever doubt that you belong here. Because you definitely do. Not only that, but you have an incredible mind. You should share it more often.”

You somehow manage a nod and a very small ‘thank you’, which Spencer receives with a small nod back. And as the two of you continue working with the new information you’ve given him, you can’t help the smile on your face. Because not only do you feel like there’s a possibility that you might actually belong here, but you’re pretty sure you have a crush on Spencer Reid.

~~~

It’s a little embarrassing, really. Here you are, an adult woman, a profiler with the BAU, and yet, you can’t stop having allergic reactions to your hand sanitizer of all things. You’re not as opposed to germs as Spencer, certainly, but you’re not unaware of them. If anything, you find the smell kind of comforting, the act of putting it on a methodical reassurance to ground you when things got overwhelming. You were going to have to give it up, though, if the rashes didn’t stop. 

You huff, slightly annoyed with the circumstances, as you finish washing your hands in the bathroom in order to get rid of the offending product. You return to your desk and toss your hand sanitizer into your rubbish bin. 

“Did you have another allergic reaction?” Spencer asks, suddenly. You jump a little, surprised he’s paying attention to you. Most of the time, you’re able to keep your crush under wraps, at least as far as you’re aware. Being a profiler certainly helps. You know exactly what to do to hide something like this, but, when Spencer catches you off guard, like right now, you’re not as in control as you’d like to be. 

“Oh,” you sigh, frowning, “yeah.” You hope that sounds as nonchalant as you’d like it to, but it’s a little difficult when his beautiful eyes continue to study you like that. You’d think that hanging out with him outside of work a bit would make you assimilate to it more, but no such luck, apparently. 

“What type was it?” he continues, shockingly curious for such a banal topic. 

You shrug your shoulders, “It was that homeopathic brand Penelope suggested. I don’t know what it is that’s freaking out my skin, but I guess it was in that one, too.”

“That’s too bad,” he replies. “I admire your dedication to cleanliness, though.”

“Well, I might have to give it up altogether if this keeps happening,” you grumble, trying to hide your blush. You look up and Spencer is still staring at you. He opens his mouth only to close it again. As he starts to look away, you get a sudden surge of confidence choosing to stand, cross to his desk and lean against it, staring down at him. “Got a suggestion brewing in that big, beautiful brain of yours, Dr. Reid?”

Now it’s his turn to blush before meeting your eyes again. “Have you tried a more natural substitute?”

“Such as?” you ask, trying to maintain some semblance of calm, cool, and collected. Hand sanitizer, you admonish yourself, the guy can make you blush over hand sanitizer. Jesus Christ. 

“Um, tea tree oil,” he nods, clearly slightly uncomfortable. 

You feel a smile tugging at your mouth as you respond, “Really? Why?” 

As you’d hoped, Spencer’s face breaks out into a huge grin, thrilled to share what he knows with you. “It contains terpinen-4-ol, a compound that kills most bacteria and viruses.”

You narrow your eyes at him, jokingly, “Is that all?” Because you know it isn’t all. You know he knows everything there is to know about this. As if he hears your thoughts he sits up a little straighter. 

If possible, his smile deepens, “Terpinen-4-ol has also been shown to increase the activity of your white blood cells, which helps fight off even more germs and foreign invaders.” 

“Wow,” you say. “Tea tree oil, huh? How’d you know about that?” 

And just like that, his smile is gone, replaced with an intense blush. He clears his throat, “Well, I, um...I-I know that you’ve been s-struggling to find, uh, a hand sanitizer that w-won’t make your sk-skin break out. So, I...um, I t-took the liberty of l-looking up an-”

“You looked up a hand sanitizer alternative for me?” you interrupt, completely incapable of fighting the smile growing on your face. 

“Y-yeah,” he stammers, not looking at you. “I know that’s-that’s super weird...it’s not my business at all, but-but I know you’re g-getting frustrated with - not that you s-seem frustrated! You’re lovely, always! I mean-” Spencer’s eyes are so wide, his breath so panicked, that you’re slightly surprised he doesn’t go into cardiac arrest when you place a hand on his shoulder. 

“Spencer,” you whisper gently, “that’s not weird at all.”

“It’s not?” he pants, finally meeting your eyes. You nod. 

“You knew I had a problem and worked to find a solution. That’s not weird, that’s just straight up kindness and consideration,” you beam. You feel your breath leave your lungs as Spencer grabs your hand from his shoulder, holding it in his own for a moment. He opens his mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by Hotch. 

“Reid, Y/L/N, we have a case,” he says, and you’re thankful that he doesn’t look for too long. Because as you and Spencer stand to leave, you’re certain that, unlike your crush, you’re definitely incapable of hiding this. 

~~~

Falling asleep on the jet isn’t exactly easy. It’s obviously better to have a private jet than for the team to have to travel on a normal airline, but it doesn’t really change the fact that it is still a plane. And the seats are a bit bigger than the ones on a standard airline, but they still aren’t exactly comfortable. There was a couch, but you are far to meek to stake a claim to it. However, it is on this trip back from North Dakota that you find yourself actually waking up as you near the Quantico air strip. Or, rather, being awakened. And not only that, but you’re being awakened from an exceptionally comfortable rest.

“Hey, sleepy head,” Spencer breathes, groggy himself.

“Hey,” you reply with equal wooziness. For a moment, it’s almost blissful. The two of you are staring at each other, still in that half-awake afterglow of a nap. It takes you exactly four seconds to realize that you're laying on Spencer’s chest, the armrest that had been between the two of you put out of the way. And even though he’d comforted you and helped you warm up back at the crime scene just that afternoon, you feel like you may have crossed a line.

“Oh my God,” you surge back, stopped by Spencer’s arm that still rests around your shoulders. “I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to lay all over-”

“It’s really okay,” Spencer smiles. “I definitely would have pushed you off in my sleep if I was uncomfortable.”

You can still feel a blush steadily creeping up your neck. “Spencer, I appreciate you being polite, but I know that you’re not exactly...touch-prone.”

“I guess…” Spencer drifts off, closing his mouth before abruptly opening it again, only to close it moments later. He looks back up at you, hesitantly, before continuing. “I guess it really matters who it is.”

“Oh,” you breathe. You don’t even try to fight your smile as you look away. Something’s bothering you, though, and you turn back to him. “You do that a lot.”

“Do what?” Spencer asks, a sudden nervousness edging his tone.

“You open your mouth to say something to me and stop yourself,” you answer, genuinely curious. Looking back over the many conversations the two of you have had since establishing a rapport a few months ago, it is the one physical constant that really stands out beyond the growing tactility over the past few weeks.

“Huh,” Spencer responds, thoughtfully. The two of you are distracted for a moment, moving to buckle in as the jet gets closer to landing.

“You’re the only person I know who lets me slow down for a minute,” Spencer whispers a few minutes later.

“What do you mean?” you ask confusedly.

“My mind moves really fast; too fast sometimes,” he admits slowly. “But there’s something about you that calms me down. Reminds me to breathe.” He’s blushing fiercely, but looking you directly in the eyes.

You’re so entirely unsure of what to say in this moment. You take his hand and squeeze it, smiling, but you can’t say what you want to say.

~~~

You’ve never said it out loud. You’ve known. You’ve known for months. But you’ve never said it out loud, not even to yourself. It felt wonderful, but also like some horrendous secret. It’s such a gentle emotion, yet carries such weight and power that, surely, the moment it’s said, even privately, would shift some great force of the universe.

You’d been worried, terribly worried that the moment he realized your feelings for him, he’d pull back. Because you’re fairly certain he doesn’t feel the same way. All the months of close friendship...it’d be foolish to hope for that to be anything other than...just that. But as the two of you leave the theatre, you can feel the shift, the weight of it pressing down on your soul. He’s not listening to a word you’re saying. You’re rambling and you know you are, a habit you’ve picked up from him, a habit he doesn’t mind in the slightest, usually. But, he’s not listening. And you know why.

He knows. How could he not? You’re pretty sure Hotch knows, too. And probably Alex. Hell, the whole team probably knows at this point. They are profilers, for God’s sake. And, as careful as you’d been, your feelings have only grown stronger, more and more difficult to hide.

You stop talking and Spencer says nothing, his eyes still locked on your profile as you park the car in front of his apartment building.

“Spencer?” you ask. He says nothing, so you clear your throat and speak again, “Spence, we’re here.” You look over as the genius blinks rapidly, looking out the front of your car to his apartment building. “You zoned out on me there, mister.” You’re trying desperately to keep your tone light. Maybe then you won’t cry.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, more thoughts clearly present on the edges of his voice.

“What’s wrong?” you ask carefully. The threat of tears is growing so intensely, you can’t take a full breath for fear they’ll fall. He’s watching you so carefully, even if you could breathe without crying, you doubt you’d be able to anyway.

“Nothing,” he finally gasps. “Nothing at all. I’m just tired. I-”

“Shit,” you interrupt. Because Spencer is definitely lying. Because Spencer definitely knows. Your hands fly to your eyes to attempt to still the tears, but it’s too late. You’re absolutely sobbing. You can vaguely hear Spencer asking why you’re crying, if you’re okay; he tries to pull your hands from your face, but you manage to wrench yourself away. You can’t seem to stop yourself from crying now.

“You c-can g-go,” you manage through the sobs. But Spencer won’t let you go home. You’re suddenly being led up to his apartment and sat down on his sofa. You finally manage to calm yourself down, tears are still falling, but your breathing is more stable. Spencer enters the room having gone through to his kitchen to get you some tissues. You accept them and give him a tight-lipped smile and accept them, wiping away some tears and managing to abate some of them in order to speak.

“I’m sorry,” you rasp. “I’m just…I’m tired. I’ll leave you be.” You try to stand, but Spencer pulls you back to the sofa by your elbow ever so gently.

“Y/N,” he says and you can practically feel his eyes searching your face even though you won’t meet them, “please tell me what’s wrong.” You sigh deeply, trying not to completely lose your composure again.

“I just…oh God, you just…you know, don’t you?” You finally look at him fully, a few errant tears escaping. Spencer stares at you, complete confusion in his eyes.

“I know what?” he finally asks. You can’t do this. You absolutely cannot do this. You can’t lose Spencer. You won’t do it. You stand up abruptly and cross to the door, managing to get just past the threshold, before Spencer catches up to you, spinning you around by your elbow.

“I know what?” he asks again, more desperate this time. You look up at him, meeting his eyes once again. A deep sigh comes from the depths of your soul. You can’t lie to this man. You can’t lie to yourself anymore.

“You know that I’m in love with you,” you whisper.

Of all the times you thought you would say it, you’d never imagined it would be like this. You were right. For such a gentle emotion, the weight of it feels like it’s shifted the entire universe. Spencer doesn’t respond immediately. He doesn’t let go of you, though. He doesn’t drop his eyes from yours. Without warning, he cups your face in his hands and kisses you. For a moment, you don’t kiss him back. You’re too overwhelmed. But then you’re kissing him back and it’s just as wonderful as you always thought it would be. He pulls away from you for only a moment, panting and smiling down at you.

“You know all those moments I’d start to say something and then couldn’t?” Spencer asks suddenly. You look up at him, incapable of anything but a smile as you nod in understanding. 

He chokes back some tears as he continues, “I think I wanted to say I love you, but I didn’t know how. But, I do, Y/N, I love you. I love you so much.” 

~~~

You’re pretty sure Hotch knows. In fact, you’re positive he knows. His treatment of you on this last case was far too cautious for him not to know.

You’re also pretty sure Penelope knows. In fact, you’re positive she knows. She’s noticed the fact that you’d stopped drinking coffee, if anything.

You’re also pretty sure Derek knows. He’s been fairly cautious with you on the last few cases, but also, if Penelope knows, he knows.

You’re damn sure Alex knows. She’s closer to you than your own mother, so she definitely knows.

You wouldn’t be surprised at all if JJ knows. She’s the most familiar with this, by far, so she definitely knows.

You’re not sure if Rossi knows, but you wouldn’t be shocked if he did.

The only person that you’re sure doesn’t know is Spencer. The two of you have been married for nearly two and a half years now, but some things never change. And you know he doesn’t know. But you’re nearly at the three month mark now. You’re bound to start showing soon. Spencer’s a brilliant man, but you’re fairly certain you could be nine months pregnant and if you didn’t tell him, he wouldn’t know. At least that’s how it seems at this point.

You can’t believe you’re running late. You’d scheduled your appointment with the doctor for way before you needed to be at work this morning, but, of course, your appointment had run over. When you walk into the office, there’s nobody in the bullpen. Shit. Of course you have a case today.

Fuck, you think. You march yourself up the few steps to the conference room, sighing deeply, already exhausted.

“Surprise!” You nearly shriek. The entire team is standing around the table, a cake in the middle of it, a banner hanging above it spelling out ‘CONGRATULATIONS’.

“You guys!” you exclaim, a huge grin spreading across your face.

“You’re finally having Baby Geniuses! Finally, Dora will have someone new to play with!” Penelope shrieks over the heads, crossing to hug you. Derek gives you a one armed hug, his other arm rocking his and Penelope’s daughter, Dora. You’re passed through the rest of the team, various congratulations and hugs and kisses from all of them, until your finally standing in front of your favorite genius in the world. He kisses you, on the lips first, before pressing another kiss onto your forehead and then into your hair. 

“I knew this time,” Spencer whispers as he embraces you, “I knew.”

You narrow your eyes at him interrogatively, your smile not abating, “Which one of them told you?”

Spencer crinkles his nose adorably before sighing, “Alright, alright...Hotch might have mentioned it first.”

~~~

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#the one where everyone finds out #series finale #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #morcia #aaron hotchner #hotch #penelope garcia #garcia #derek morgan x penelope garcia #derek morgan #morgan #alex blake #jj #jennifer jareau #david rossi #rossi #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff

[nygmobblepot-trash]

It was odd for Riddler to get visitors. He wasn't exactly popular with anyone. Oswald would show up when he wanted something and was desperate which was more often than you would hope for from Gotham's mayor/king/whatever he was calling himself these days. Gordon would show up with arrest warrants. The last group would be considered random. They would show up when Riddler got bored and let someone else take over so he could save the puzzle later on.

Riddler hadn't lost control recently... at least he thought he hadn't. He hadn't done anything since being released and Oswald doesn't believe in having to knock. So why at 10:46 pm was someone knocking at his door?

Instead of playing the guessing game, Riddler decided to throw the door open and deal with whatever or whomever was making all that noise behind it. Except when it swung open he saw no one.

That's odd.

Another mental break down perhaps?

Whatever.

He'd deal with it later and shut the door. He didn't get very far till he heard the knocking again.

Ignore it. It will stop eventually. Just distract yourself.

He looked around the room to find something fitting for the task. Which was a old torn up book hidden under the couch. He brushed off the cobwebs and collapsed on the couch.

The knocking persisted.

Riddler tried to focus on the words with all his heart but the pounding wouldn't stop.

He had enough. Please don't be Ghost Oswald, he thought as he threw open the door for a second time.

Still nothing.

He went to close the door for the second time when he felt something grab onto his arm in order to prevent the action.

Riddler quickly looked down and everything clicked into place.

He wasn't expecting a child. "Oh it's just you, Martin." He sighed happy he didn't accidentally drug himself. The calm quickly disappeared when he repeatedly his words, "Oh it's you! What are you doing here?"

Martin must have already assumed that question was going to be asked because he only had to flip to a page in his notebook and show it to the annoyed Riddler.

"Oswald dropped me off." Ed read aloud with a frown. "I doubt it. He would never leave you in my care without an hour lecture. As if I need a lecture on how to keep a child alive."

Martin gave Riddler an, 'Are you sure about that?' look.

"I forgot to feed you one time! I've gone days without eating and no one throws a fit. You go without dinner one time and I never hear the end of it!" Riddler yells as he retreats back into Ed's apartment.

Martin follows and closes the door behind him.

Riddler quickly turned around. "Oh no you don't. Go back to Oswald. I know you're lying about him driving you here."

Martin shakes his head no.

Riddler aggressively digs into his pockets to look for his phone but finds nothing. "That's odd... I had it in here an hour ago." Riddler scans the room and sighs when he immediately doesn't find it. "Once I find my phone you're gone, Buddy."

Martin shrugged and made his way into the kitchen as he was hungry. PB&J sounded real good. He had managed to find all the supplies while Riddler threw stuff around the apartment. The more the man looked the angrier he got. Now all the boy needed was a knife to put the jelly and peanut butter on his bread. He found one fairly quickly. What was even quicker was Riddler grabbing the knife away from him. He was paying attention?

"You cut yourself and i'll get blamed." The green man announced.

Martin expected to hear the knife go back into the drawer, but it didn't. Instead Riddler with a roll of his eyes quickly smeared the toppings onto the bread. When he was done he tossed the knife into the sink with a loud clank and went back to look for his phone without another word.

Martin quietly ate his sandwhich and when he was done put the dirty dish into the sink after washing it off. Like Oswald said, 'no one likes a pig.'

The boy took this opportunity to clear out any unusable pages from his notebook. He didn't see certain responses being used soon, if ever again.

"I haven't left all day. It should be here." Riddler mumbled from under the couch he retrieved the book from. After throughly checking the couch Riddler turned to the boy. "Shouldn't you be... I don't know... in bed?"

Martin shrugged knowing damn well the answer.

"Bed." Riddler commanded.

So the boy did as told... well almost. The man yelled, "not my bed," as the child climbed into his bed ignoring him.

"I'm going to kill Oswald." Riddler promised under his breath.

The boy quickly wrote in his note book and turned it to the man when he was finished.

"I don't care if Oswald reads to you. I'm not Oswald." Riddler answered coldly.

The boy scribbled down more.

"I do have great stories! Way better than any of Oswald's." Riddler hissed.

So Riddler lost again and told the boy a story. But he boy refused to shut his annoying little eyes. So he said another one, which turned into another one. Riddler wouldn't admit that the stories were infact true and about himself and Oswald.

After the 3rd story Riddler stood up. "You said he reads you one story and I have given you three. It isn't my fault you're still up, so go to sleep."

Martin quickly wrote in his notebook and threw it at the Riddler as he was leaving.

Riddler quickly bit his lip to avoid yelling at the boy and picked up to see what the runt wanted now. "...you want to know what my parents are like?" Riddler was about to tell him no when he read the next sentence, "I'll go to bed and never bother you again, I promise." He ripped the note out of the note book and placed it his pocket. "This is legal now." He sighed and sat back down.

Riddler opened his mouth to answer the boy's request but the words seemed to leave his lips.

You technically don't have parents. A voice not belonging the Riddler echoed in his head.

"Shut up." Riddler hissed through clenched teeth.

For someone who thinks he's the best of me is terrible at taking care of kids. This one doesn't even speak and you're losing it.

A pain started pulsing behind his eyes.

As Riddler grimaced in pain the boy stuck another note in front of his eyes. It read, "Is it Ed?"

Hey kid.

"Please be quiet." Riddler whisper as he put his head into his hands.

Martin upset at what he seemed to cause quickly ran out of the room. Riddler don't notice this at all. He hadn't known how much time had passed even he managed to look farther up the bed where Martin was last seen. The issue was the boy wasn't there anymore. In his place were a couple of pills and a note, "I'm sorry I bothered you, Mr. Riddler. My dad seemed more happy when you're around. I came here to figure out why Oswald and you don't get along. I even left a note for Oswald hinting you took me. I wanted him to show up and see that you do take good care of me. It's my fault that you don't see each other anymore. I refused to eat that day and you still took the blame. I'm going back to Oswald's to explain what I did. As an apology I'll give you a riddle, 'I can be a salty treat for some, and a breath stealer for others. What am I?' -Love Martin."

Riddler quickly looked at the time on his watch, it read, 1:07 am. "Oh dear." Riddler and Ed said in a worried tone.

Riddler wasted no time finding the peanut butter in a cabinet. Please don't be ruined and please be what I hope you are, he though.

Ed on the other hand was trying to calculate all the possible routes the boy could be taking.

Riddler spun the lid off and shouted, "Yes!" as he quickly unwrapped the napkin that was in the jar. It was his phone which he may need later. It was the nuclear option.

Then suddenly the front door swung open and crashed into the wall harder than it ever had.

Shit. Riddler though as he hit the floor to avoid being seen.

"EDWARD DUMBASS NYGMA." An angry mother penguin shouted louder than should be possible.

'What did I do?!' Riddler heard Ed scream in terror.

'We have to avoid him at all costs, when he's like this he won't listen to a word we say.' Riddler told Ed.

The pair listened as Oswald stomped around the apartment. Once they could hear him in the guest bedroom he bolted to Ed's room. Going out the front door would get them spotted immediately.

Riddler could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He has never moved this fast and quietly in his life, including all the other personalities. He threw open the window and leaped out of it. He fell about 6 feet before he was able to stop his fall by grabbing onto the fire escape ladder. The force made the ladder extend closer to the ground. Once it stopped a few feet above the ground Riddler let go and landed in the snow.

He didn't feel the coldness nor acknowledged it was even winter in Gotham as a voice from above him dripping with hate, "YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME."

'There's no way he'll come down this way. Just go.' Ed commanded.

So Riddler did what Ed said for the first time in his existence. His mind was a blur, but that was okay because Ed was giving him directions. It wasn't long until he spotted the boy walking under the street lights on a particularly dangerous street.

"Hey! Kid wait!" Riddler yelled very out of breath. When the boy stopped and turned Riddler finally noticed how tired he was.

He was about to collapse when adrenaline shot back up his body.

"I TOLD YOU."

Riddler's eyes widden as he turned to see Oswald quite a bit off into the distance hobbling towards them. "...how?" The three questioned together.

He was running out of time so Riddler whipped back to the boy to say what he wanted to say. Unfortunately Oswald was faster and had a gun pointed directly at him.

'And you're the bad parent?" Ed questioned.

Martin quickly stood in front of Riddler to his surprise. He frantically waved his arms around and shook his head. All three men noticed the tears in his eyes.

"Martin I want you to step to the side, put your hands over your ears, and face away with your eyes closed. Do. Not. Make. Me. Ask. Again." Oswald said with a reassuring yet offsetting tone.

Martin stood his ground.

"Oswald I need to show you something, you're only making the situation worse." Riddler pleaded.

"You won't ever stop crossing the line will you? Every single time I let you live you make sure I regret it. Well not this time, old friend."

'Well we're dead.' Ed sighed.

Martin dropped to his knees with his hands together, no doubt pleading for Riddler's life.

Oswald's moved his finger to the trigger. Since he was aiming for Nygma's head, Martin wouldn't get hit. "Haven't I taught you anything? Don't be like me. Don't let anyone stab you in the back ever. I wouldn't be doing what I preach if I don't do this."

Riddler slowly moved his hand to his pocket.

'Stop you idiot' Ed screeched.

Riddler grabbed a piece of paper from his pocket and held it above his head. "He thinks we aren't..." Riddler didn't know the right words, many of them made his stomach flip. "you know... a team anymore, because of him. He blames himself, Os."

"But it isn't his fault." Oswald's finger slowly backed off from the trigger. "Let me see. I doubt this will save you."

Riddler nodded and handed the note back to Martin. The boy whiped away some tears before running to Oswald.

Oswald held the note in the air under the street lamp to read the pencil words.

Ed, Riddler, and Martin watched with baited breath to see how Oswald would react.

Paying attention to microfacial expressions wasn't Ed or even Riddler's strong suit, but this time they caught everything. How Oswald bit him bottom lip as tears brimmed in his eyes. How he quickly turned his head away and blinked those tears away to avoid Martin seeing them. Ed and Riddler watched as he shook silently. Then he took a sharp breath and blew it out. "It was never your fault and it never will be. Edward is an idiot-. No we are, grown ups are. I'm sorry you had to see us flight. I promise to be better and I think me and him going our separate ways will ensure that."

Martin shook his head.

'Wow look at Oswald Cobblepot being the adult. I guess you got what you wanted.' Ed's voice still echoed in Riddler's head, thankfully without the migrain.

"You're wrong, that's not what I want." Riddler said out loud to his and Ed's surprise.

"What the hell-" Oswald started to yell again but Riddler cut him off.

"I don't think we should go out separate ways. It would be a shame if Gotham's best duo faded into nothingness. There is still greatness for us. Our story isn't done yet, Ozzie." Riddler closed the gap inbetween him and Oswald. "I'm sorry... for some of the things I did. Sometimes you deserved it though."

'Please shut up.' Ed begged.

It was Riddler's turn to bite his lip. He then took and deep breath and through clenched teeth spoke, "The truth is..." Riddler felt his face go warm and suddenly realized how terribly cold it was. "I'm happier when... you're...around...too."

Oswald covered his laugh with a cough. Ed did not follow that courtesy. 'I knew it!'

"Oh God damn it." Oswald sighed. "You're going to make me regret this, aren't you?"

"You know me so well." Riddler answered with a coy smile.

"Holy shit it is fucking cold. Can we go inside now before I actually turn into a penguin? And you..." Oswald pointed at Riddler with a smirk. "Shouldn't you hate the cold."

"Nope." Riddler shrugged as he tossed his suit jacket onto a shivering Martin. "It reminds me how I saved your sorry ass."

#gotham #edward nygma #nygmobblepot #oswald cobblepot #holy fuck that took forever

[gh0stfacesho3]

Transfer of Words

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Gender Non-Specific Reader

Word Count: +3.5k 

Warning: Fluff, mild angst. Professor x Student (College Au, all characters are +18), language, mention of abuse, mention of alcohol. 

Summary: As a Professor in the states, you were used to transfer students. You weren’t exactly ready for this new transfer student who is the son of the owner of Mike Sneakers (we don’t do free sponsors here ) 

   You were especially used to transfer students because you had a doctorate in linguistics. Being this, you knew a plethora of languages, from English, Spanish, French, Mandarin, Korean, Japanese, Greek, Latin, and a few native languages. You were always fascinated by languages and how people came up with these mixes of characters and words to make beautiful phrases. Since you were a kid you started to learn other languages. You had a French neighbor in your old hometown which is where you picked it up at age 7. Then, when you were 10, your family took a trip to Mexico which is when you became interested by Spanish. You fully understood the language by age 11 due to your prior knowledge of French. Then this process just continued where you would just learn languages mainly for fun. This lead to you being a linguistics professor who also taught second languages and would take in quite a few transfer kids. This lead to the journey of Jeon Jungkook and it was definitely a wild one. 

   You walked into your office at about 9:00 and placed your laptop onto the desk. You straighten up your outfit before settling in and getting to work. As you looked through your emails, you noticed an email that was about another transfer student. You kind of glanced over it, but didn’t pay too much mind to it, assuming it was just another kid from out of country. As 10:00 started to roll around, your students walked in. Some smiled, others chugged some unhealthy energy drink, some even chatted with you before finding their seats. As everyone found their seats, you looked out to see a new student. 

“You, new kid, come up front and do that cringe introduction.” You chuckle, emitting a chuckle from a few kids. He tilts his head in confusion, probably because he doesn’t speak English. Due to your gesture though, he assumes you want him to introduce himself. 

“You don’t already know who I am?” He whispered loud enough for you to hear in his first language. 

“Actually, no, I don’t.” You responded quickly as you clasped your hands before beckoning him to the front again. He was a little shocked that you spoke Korean so well, being he had no prior information on you. You were used to kids who thought they were all that but something about this kid who was ‘dressed to impress’ rubbed you the wrong way. He walks down to the front and rolls his eyes at you. 

“I’m Jeon Jungkook...23. Korean” He said in English the best he could. You smiled and introduced yourself. 

“I’m Professor Y/L/N, find your seat now.” You responded before turning to the large chalk board and continuing your lesson. After the two hour lecture, you dismissed class. Jungkook was asleep in the back, which made you walk up to him and nudge him. 

“Its lunch time, go eat.” You say as he wakes up. He shrugged off your hand before collecting his things. 

“Filthy commoner.” He mumbled as he shoved past you. You would’ve been insulted if it were true, but it wasn’t. You collect your things and head out to your favorite cafe. Being it was a Tuesday, that class was the only one you had for the day so you treated yourself to some coffee. You notice a bit of commotion outside, but you try to ignore it and sneak inside. 

“Y/N Y/L/N!! IS IT TRUE YOU’RE TEACHING JEON JUNGKOOK?!” 

“Y/N?!?!”

“DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT JUNGKOOK?” 

You were confused by all the bombarding questions so you ran into the café and shut the door along with someone else. You turned to see the brat himself, Jeon Jungkook. 

“What mess have you fuckin brought me into?” You huffed as your back pressed against the door. 

“I didn’t do anything! I just went for a walk and got lost!” He huffed back at you. 

“Why are you so popular?” You asked as you held your hand on your forehead. 

“Ugh, you’re a horrible teacher if you can’t read a simple email. I’m the son of the owner of Mike tennis shoe company.” He responded. You rolled your eyes as stood up and walked in line, happy to see police shows up to wrangle up paparazzi. 

“What? Don’t care about my father’s company?” He mumbled. You go to order your drink and the barista looks confused. You realized you just ordered in Korean. You apologized before trying again. After you pay, Jungkook walks up and tried to get a drink. 

“C-coffee?” He basically asked, leaving the barista to ask a series of question. Jungkook looks over to you for help, making you chuckle. 

“Why should I help? You called me a shitty teacher.” You faked being offended which made Jungkook embarrassed. 

“I’ll pay for you.” He said, making you more than willing to help him. Being you already bought your drink, he just handed you a 20 like it was nothing. 

“That's way to much money Jungkook.” You said as you grabbed your coffee and went to hand him the money back. 

“It’s nothing to me and my father always says to help the less fortunate.” He said before drinking his coffee, which intern made you laugh. 

“You’re a brat but you’re a cool kid.” You say as you sit down and he follows. You quirk an eyebrow at him and he does the same back. 

“Who said you could sit with me?” Making him tilt his head. 

“Who said you got here first?” Jungkook barked back at you. You held your hands up in defense. 

“You’re going to have to get used to me being I will probably be your living translator...also whos your host family?” You waited for his response as you took a sip of your coffee. 

“I-...I’m not sure.”

“You didn’t check your email?” You teased like he did you which seemed to piss him off. 

“I can’t fuckin read English!” Which made you shocked. How could a school send this kid an email in a language he doesn’t know. You hold your hand out for his phone which he reluctantly gives to you. You mumble out the email before getting to the important part. 

“Your father has entrusted Professor Y/N with your care being they have the most experience with transfer students.” You were used to hosting kids but you thought someone of such class would be with, well you didn’t know, maybe someone the kid knew? 

“With you?” He almost sounded disgusted. You were actually upset that you didn’t read that email but you had a rough weekend. 

You sighed, “Look kid-”

“I’m not a kid!” He fussed. He was right. He said he was 23 and so were you. (Seems young for being a professor right, you’re just pretty smart and graduated early) 

“Okay, sorry. But look, you either live with me for the what, 3 months you’re gonna be here? Or ask your daddy for money to live in a hotel for 3 months.” You teased, making him sigh. 

“I’m not talking to him...that's why he sent me here.” Jungkook looked down at his now empty iced coffee. 

You stood up and patted his shoulder. “Then suck it up buttercup. Lets go get your shit and move you in.” 

“Want me to call an Uver?” The boy asked. (again, no free sponsors in this house).

“Nope. My car isn’t too far from here.” You smiled as you walked closer to the college campus. You turned before getting to campus and walked up to the car park. 

He pointed to an abandoned car that has been there for years, “Is that yours?” he teased. 

You smiled as you pulled out your key fob, clicking the unlock button to see a black lambo unlock. Jungkook stopped in his tracks and stared in awe. 

“Come on pretty boy, not scared are you?” You smiled as you hopped in. He scurried into the car with a wide smile. 

“Here I was thinking you were some poor teacher.” 

“I’m a professor first of all, second” you start the engine with a loud purr, “I have my perks.”  You smirked. 

Its been about a month since Jungkook has been moved in. One day y’all were sitting at the table, awkwardly eating dinner like you guys did every night when he got a phone call. You have never seen him smile since the first time he got in the car and besides that, he’s been a pain in your ass more than anything. Good thing is, he’s actually learned quite a bit of English and can order his food in public. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard him fussing. 

“No Dad! Please you can’t make me stay here! I am studying and doing my work! This isn’t fair!” He argued, pacing back in forth before heading to his room which was a guest room. “YOU CAN’T JUST KEEP ME IN AMERICA BECAUSE YOU DON’T WANT TO TAKE CARE OF ME. MY PROFESSOR ISN’T MY BABY SITTER, THEY HAVE THEIR OWN LIFE WHICH IS BETTER WITHOUT ME!....you were only right about one thing dad... I’m a bother to everyone around me.” Jungkook finished before in went quiet. You didn’t know what to say. He knew he was being difficult because he wanted to be. He wants you to be upset and kick him out so he can go home. He wants to be out of you hair. You walked to his room and knocked, and saw something you never saw you see. Tears. 

“W-what?!” He sniffled as he turned around and rubbed his eyes. You just walked up to him and turned him around, pulling him into a hug. He was reluctant at first before he finally gave in. 

“You’re a brat yes, but you’re not a bother. And if you’d stop distancing yourself, we might be able to make this extended time more enjoyable.” Was the only thing you could say. 

“I’m sorry I’m so mean to you...I just thought if maybe,”

“Maybe if I got annoyed enough I’d kick you out so you could go home?” He nodded to your question. 

“Welp, I’m a tough cookie to crack.” You smiled as you pulled away. 

“God we are the same age but you talk like a 80 year old.” He laughed as he wiped his face again. 

The two of you then go and talk about him and his life back at home. He explains how his grades are slipping and that is why he is forced to stay here longer. How he doesn’t like going to college because it’s not what he wants to do in life. Jungkook explained that he wanted to be a singer and even showed you a few songs he has covered and composed. They were really good in actuality. You agreed with him if he can get English down pat and pick his grades up, you’d help him peruse his career. 

-

It’s now been 3 months and Jungkook is basically speaking fluent English. He is also passing all your classes and is starting to open up to you a lot more. It was Spring break so you decided to go out with a few friends to get a drink. You invited Jungkook but he said he wanted to finish a paper he got an extension on so you just went out on your own. You and all your friends were dancing in the club and downing drinks like fish. You may have gotten a little too drunk being it was your first night out by yourself. Jungkook recently started to get more friends so you had some free time, but you haven’t gone out since he got here which is why you let yourself get as drunk as you did. It was towards the end of the night and the bouncer would not let you out with your keys due to how drunk you were. 

“Move you b-big bo-ouf...” You stumbled as you tried to squeeze past him. He grabbed your arm and pushed you back. You huffed before pulling out your phone and smashing keys in and calling whoever popped up. 

“Professor? Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, concerned as to why you called him after not responding to his text asking when you’d be home. 

“I-im dr-drunk and this fuckin cunt won’t let me out.” You whined as you still tried to squeeze past him. “Don’t-...Don’t fuckin touch me.”

“Look, I’ll get an Uver and come pick you up.” Jungkook said as he got his things and hung up on you. 

You looked at your silent phone with an angry expression,”...bitch” 

Jungkook came walking in and saw you sitting on the floor poking the bouncers leg. 

“Can you get this parasite off of me?” The large man asked looking down at me. 

Jungkook stoops down and helps you up. You stumble toward him before you turned to look at the bouncer and stick your tongue out. You also flipped him off before Jungkook grabbed your hand and brought you to the Uver. You sat by the window and he did the same. You two finally got to your house and he helped bring you up. You tore your arm away from him as you stumbled up the stairs. 

“I’m not a fuckin baby.” You grumbled as you immediately fell on the stairs. The male huffed as he helped you up. 

“Get OFF of ME Jackson!” You pushed him away as tears filled your eyes. “I’m not your fuckin victim anymore!” 

“Y/n?” Jungkook put his hands up and came to you slowly, “Its just me...Jungkook.” You finally started to calm down as you slowly tried to climb the stairs to your home. Jungkook helped you up and brought you to the couch. Jungkook grabbed a wet cloth and wiped the palms of your hand that were scrapped up. He then wiped your eyes and petted your head. 

After Jungkook helped you that night, there was this awkward air again. He felt like walking on eggshells around you. Who was Jackson and why did you say you weren’t his victim. Jungkook asked his classmates around campus and even a few teachers as best he could. He finally found a teacher who was willing to give him a small amount of information. 

“Now, I’m not going to say a lot because it isn’t my story to tell, but Jackson is Y/n’s ex....and let’s say he won’t be getting boyfriend of the year award.” Dr. Nick explained. Jungkook had enough information to make a firm decision. He was going to show you what a man should treat others like. He wasn’t your boyfriend or even considered you that much of a friend, but he felt guilty for living with you almost rent free (even though the school payed for his stay). 

Jungkook went to the store after he was done with classes and picked up a lot of food to make you dinner as payment for all the times you made him dinner. He bought you your favorite candy, or so he assumed because he’d always find the wrappers in the trash. He even bought you a gift card to the coffee shop you love and headed home. Being it was a Friday, he knew you would be home a little later. The more Jungkook thought about it, the more he realized he knew a lot more about you than he thought. Jungkook started to think about all the little things you did for him. How certain foods would pop up more after he mentioned them. How you would cook different meals just for his liking and make sure he had a decent environment to study in. How you would stay up late and call of work a few times just to help him study. Jungkook smiled as he started to mentally prepare himself for cooking. He also hoped he wouldn’t burn your house down because he had very little cooking experience. 

Jungkook starts cooking a dish he often enjoyed back at home: Spicy Ramen with rice cakes and kimbap. The button down shirt he wore to school was now slightly disheveled and stained. He rolled his sleeve up as he looked at the time-- 5 more minutes. Or so he thought when he heard your keys jingle at the door. He mildly panicked before setting up the food at the table and cleaning up quickly. He ran to the door as you finally started to open it and he stopped you.

“Huh?” You asked looking at his slightly sweaty face. “Jungkook if you’re having sex-” 

“AH No no no!! But I have to ask for you to stand out here for 5 more minutes...trust me.” You don’t know why but you did trust him, and so you stood there for 5 whole minutes. You thought about all the possibilities you could walk into: A girl or a guy running out half naked, your house destroyed, drugs...etc.  Jungkook came back looking a lot more put together and opened the door. You were hit with a mix of smells and were shocked. 

“J-jungkook, did you ? You didn’t- no you can’t cook can you?” You asked as you walked in and admired the kitchen. 

“I noticed you’ve been working more and I felt bad for staying here, even longer than expected... So I wanted to show you that I can be a proper man and treat another human being with respect.” 

“I don’t care the reason as long as it taste good...and it looks amazing Jeon.” You quickly wash your hands and sit down ready to eat. Jungkook sat closer to you which you didn’t think much about being the ramen was in a big shared pot. You start digging in but you try to avoid the kimbap. You didn’t know if it had seafood and you didn’t want to take a chance. Jungkook picked up a piece and brought it up to your mouth. 

“Made without seafood.” He smiled before you opened your mouth and took a bite. You smiled as you continued to eat. Jungkook ate as well before making the perfect bite. You even noticed it and tried to follow what he did, but before you could, he offered it to you. You were about to take in the food before you paused. 

“Where is all this coming from?” You asked before taking the bite You smiled and almost forgot you asked a question until he cleared his throat. 

“Well, like I said I felt bad for staying here and being a brat...I also wanted to give you a taste of my culture since you’ve welcomed me into yours.” He explained with a small blush and a smile. 

“Yeah I get that, but what's with that stuff?” You asked pointing to the flower bouquet lined with your favorite candies and snacks. 

“Oh...well the same reason.” He smiled. You were suspicious but you decided to finish eating. You heart was really warmed but he wasn’t that much of a brat. Yeah it was inconvenient on occasion, but he’s helped you a lot. He helps with chores and keeps his area clean, he is good company since you’re always alone, and well...he’s a pretty boy to keep around. Not to mention he saved you from that club when you were piss ass drunk. The two of y’all were cleaning up and things were going good...until Jungkook said the forbidden name. 

“Y/n...who is Jackson?” You almost drop the plate you were cleaning. 

“I fuckin knew you were up to something...Did you go through my room?! My fucking personal life?!” You started to fuss but by the look on his face, he didn’t. 

“When you were drunk, you called me Jackson and said ‘I’m not your victim anymore’...” He paused, looking down before looking back at you, “he hurt you didn’t he?” 

You stared at the wall, looking for the right words to say. “Yeah...he did. And I’m sorry I did that that night...but I’m not a baby. I don’t need your sympathy or your fuckin pandering.” You huffed as you started to leave the kitchen but he grabbed your wrist. 

“I’m not doing this to make up for him,...Nothing I can do can heal those scars. But I’m doing it to make up for me and my actions. And its my way of showing-....” Jungkook trailed off. 

“Showing what?” You said looking down at his hand holding your wrist. 

“It’s how I show affection to people I care about.” Jungkook said the words without really thinking. You were taken aback and pulled away from him. 

“Jungkook...I-” You started before he cut you off. 

“I know what you’re going to say. I’m not the first kid to say this am I? And you tell them all the same thing. ‘We can’t be together because I risk losing my job’ and all that...I know.” He said looking down at his feet. You were shocked he even had feelings for you. He was completely wrong because since Jackson, you kept these walls up and didn’t let anyone like you. You normally noticed when people would catch feelings and immediately turn them away...but this was different. You hadn’t realized he liked you because you were to busy pushing yourself away from him. You noticed you liked his presence more which is why you stayed later at work, to push yourself away. 

“Jungkook, that’s not it. I actually really care about you too. But there is the case with work that I don’t know if I can get passed...but I do appreciate this. And I appreciate you so much, but after Jackson...” You trailed off. 

“You don’t know if you’re ready and I understand that...but out of all the people I’ve met, your the one person I wouldn’t mind waiting for.” Jungkook admitted. He didn’t realize how strong he felt about you until he was in this moment. You also didn’t realize how strong you felt until you realized you moved closer to him. You always had your guard up around people, but you realized you were more venerable with Jungkook than with anyone else. You peered up at him to see his eyes were red from holding back his tears. 

You chuckled softly, “You’re such a baby.” You teased making him laugh before nudging you. 

“Yeah well this baby just cooked your dinner so whose baby now?” He retorted. 

“There’s that smile...”You mumbled, smiling as you two just stood there looking at each other. Jungkook’s eyes darted down to your lips before saying fuck it. He leaned in and held your cheeks in his hand. You felt this weird tension finally dissipate. You leaned in closer and placed your hands on top of his. 

“If you think about it, I graduate this year in a few months...so if we wait it out, you won’t have to worry about your job.” Jungkook reasoned as he pulled away. 

“That is true...even if you weren’t, I can always find another job.” You smiled, kissing him again. 

A/n: Sorry if this is a little rough, but I have been on a hiatus for about a year now. Writing is something I love doing but I’ve been so busy with school and have had so little motivation. I really wrote this whole thing within 2 days and I’m proud of myself. If you really liked it, hit that like and share button! If this gets enough love, I might open request again. 

#bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x male reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x gender neutral reader #fluff #angst #bangtan #bt21 #self insert #bts x reader #bts x male reader #bts x female reader #bts x gender neutral reader

[ibijau]

Futures Past pt18 / on AO3

Nie Huaisang returns to the Cloud Recesses, and meets the people he's meant to befriend

Much to his surprise, Nie Huaisang realised upon returning to the Cloud Recesses that he had missed the place. Or rather, he had missed the friends who lived there.

All winter, Su She and him had exchanged letters, mostly to complain about every single thing that bothered them. When they finally met again in person, they were quite happy to do more of the same. They also discussed all the things they might do for fun that year. 

Su She, at long last, had risen in rank and been given more freedom than he used to have. He would have less classes to attend since he was now trusted to take charge of his own training to some degree, he would join more Night Hunts, he had been given a new jade token that allowed him to leave the Cloud Recesses at any time of the day as long as curfew was respected, and he would even be included among those juniors who patrolled to enforce the respect of the rules.

All this made Nie Huaisang so happy for his friend, that he did not realise at first all the implications this had regarding the amount of time they would get to spend together. Su She would be very busy in the future, but he promised he would do everything possible to still make time for his best friend, and Nie Huaisang easily believed him.

The other joy to be found in returning to the Cloud Recesses was not immediate. By the time Nie Huaisang had arrived there, Lan Xichen had not yet returned from a Night Hunt he’d gone on with Nie Mingjue. That was hardly a surprise. These two were usually far too serious in all things, but when they went Night Hunting together, they always stayed a little longer than really necessary. Nie Huaisang usually found that greatly amusing, and never missed a chance to tease his brother about skirting his duties. They seemed to have taken a particularly long time on this occasion, but since Nie Mingjue had complained a few times that he hadn't seen his friend in such a long while, it was not so odd. Nie Huaisang would have mocked his brother so much if he'd seen him before leaving home. 

Since he didn’t have a chance to do it that time, he instead teased Lan Xichen when he finally came home, on the same day most of the guest disciples were set to arrive, on the eve of the lectures' start. Of course if Nie Huaisang had been a good and dutiful person, he would have gone to the main gate to see those other guest disciples, and maybe try to strike a friendship with them as early as possible. But between trying to catch a glimpse of the boring friends his future self wanted him to make, and dropping by Lan Xichen’s house to see the friend he actually liked, the choice had been easily made.

Lan Xichen offered him tea and smiled when accused of dodging his responsibilities, but less warmly than Nie Huaisang had expected. In fact, he found that the older boy looked rather more tired than he should have been, and more nervous as well. He tried to ask about that, but Lan Xichen refused to dwell on the subject.

“There is just a lot to do, and you are right that I was gone longer than I should have,” Lan Xichen said. “Especially since Wangji is in seclusion… he was supposed to come out of it today, but I saw him earlier and convinced him to continue meditating alone for at least another month. There will be many energetic people among our guests this year, and I doubt he will enjoy their company too much.”

Nie Huaisang, who had found the Cloud Recesses even more fun without the constant threat of Lan Wangji being around to enforce the rule, could only nod. He didn't mind waiting a month to set in movement his older self's orders.

“And this had nothing at all with you wishing to have a little peace without your brother constantly enforcing the rules, does it?” he teased.

“I am nowhere near as rebellious as you seem to have decided,” Lan Xichen replied with an indulgent smile. “Though I suppose Lan Wangji does take a stricter approach to them than I do. I’m sure in time, he’ll learn that they are meant to be a guidance, not a restriction.”

“And that he should let his brother eat candies sometimes.”

Lan Xichen smiled, trying to hide a chuckle. That was enough to comfort Nie Huaisang. As long as he still enjoyed his jokes, Lan Xichen could not be doing badly. And after that the conversation soon moved on to music, giving Nie Huaisang a great chance to show off how hard he had worked all winter. By the time Nie Huaisang had to leave, Lan Xichen appeared in good spirits again, for which he congratulated himself.

-

When morning came, Nie Huaisang got up as early as he could manage after falling back on his old habits during winter, and headed toward the lecture hall with the other Nie disciples. There were a number of other boys assembled at the door, all waiting for the teacher to arrive. 

Among those, the ones dressed in purple attracted Nie Huaisang’s attention the most. He recognised Jiang Cheng of course, with Meng Yao next to him whose attitude seemed more that of a babysitter than a fellow disciple, perhaps because of that other boy standing near them who had a mischievous smile on his lips. Then, behind them, there were two other boys dressed in Jiang purple, plain and quite forgettable. Perhaps Wei Wuxian wasn’t there after all, or perhaps he had already entered the class to study on his own, as befitted someone who was destined to fall for Lan Wangji.

Even if that person was absent, Nie Huaisang decided he should go greet Jiang Cheng and Meng Yao at least, since he already knew them. But before he had taken even one step in their direction, he heard someone call out for him.

“You are Nie gongzi, right?” a haughty boy asked.

He was dressed in that shade of yellow that only the Jins ever thought pleasant, and his face bore a passing resemblance with Jin Zixun’s, except with much nicer features, and a far colder expression. All of this made it rather easy to guess his identity, even if they had never met.

“And you must be Jin gongzi,” Nie Huaisang replied with a polite nod. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Jin Zixuan said, returning the nod. “Since you are my cousin’s friend, I hope we can become better acquainted.”

Nie Huaisang gaped at the other boy.

“I’m what?”

“He’s too proud to use the word, but I know Zixun. He wrote about you several times last year, and he told me you helped him pass his exams.”

That this would be anywhere near enough to be considered a friend said a lot about Jin Zixun’s overall popularity. Nie Huaisang himself, who wasn’t exactly rich in friends, wouldn’t have used the word to talk about Jin Zixun, but he still felt flattered. In fact, he wondered if the acquaintance might be worth sustaining. Surely Nie Huaisang could try to write to Jin Zixun perhaps? He’d promised he would write to Xue Yang already, to give him a chance to practice reading and writing without the pressure of a classroom. If he was writing anyway, one more letter could be easy to fit into his very full schedule. Jin Zixun was a prick, but on occasions he'd been almost tolerable, so he wouldn't be the worst friend Nie Huaisang could make.

“He also said you became friends because he broke your nose,” Jin Zixuan added, his tone dripping judgement at the idea that anyone could ever put up with something like that.

Nie Huaisang self-consciously raised a hand to touch his nose, before quickly dropping it to his side, embarrassed by this habit he’d picked up.

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” he grumbled. “But I guess I did help him pass. And, well… if you want to be friends, I have no issues with that.”

“We’ll see about it,” Jin Zixuan retorted, before turning around and returning to his own group, as if it might dirty him to spend too much time with people who weren’t Jins.

Jin Zixuan was lucky to have such a pretty face and to be so rich, because it certainly wasn’t his personality which would make him friends, Nie Huaisang thought. He was at least as annoying as Jin Zixun, even though it was in a different manner.

He must not have been the only one to have that impression. When he turned his attention back toward the Jiang disciples, all of them save for Meng Yao were glaring in the direction of Jin Zixuan. Worse still, when their eyes wandered toward Nie Huaisang, it was clear that mere association with Jin Zixuan had instantly branded him as unpleasant to them. That was odd, though. Everyone knew that there was an engagement between Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli, so surely there should have existed, if not friendship, then at least some degree of cordiality between disciples of their two sects. 

Nie Huaisang feared what starting with a disadvantage might do to the mission forced upon him, when already he wasn’t the best at making friends. But his eyes then met Meng Yao’s who, after whispering something to Jiang Cheng, walked toward Nie Huaisang and even bowed to him with far more deference than anyone had ever bothered to show before.

“Nie-gongzi, I am glad we meet again,” Meng Yao said. “I never had a chance to thank you before for your help that day.”

“I hardly did anything at all!” Nie Huaisang protested, waving his hands in embarrassment. “In fact, you were even hurt by my fault that time!”

“And yet I must insist in expressing my gratitude. If not for you and Lan gongzi standing up for me, I would not have been given a chance to become a cultivator, which has been my greatest dream since childhood. For this, I am in your debt.”

Nie Huaisang blushed a little. “Really, it was nothing. Any decent person would have done the same! And with a potential like yours, it was only natural that someone would take you as a student someday! How’s Yunmeng treating you? Are they nice to you? You can tell me if they’re not, and I’ll tell my da-ge, and he’ll tell them to be nice. But it’s Yunmeng, of course they’re probably nice, right?”

His rambling surprised Meng Yao, who appeared a little unsure how to answer. Probably he’d expected the young master of a great sect to be a little more eloquent than that, the way Lan Xichen was, or even Jiang Cheng. But it was difficult to keep cool in front of the boy who would have become the man who had killed Nie Mingjue.

How could that have even happened? Even after months in Lotus Piers, Meng Yao remained shorter than Nie Huaisang, and barely any heavier. How could someone like that…

“I think we’re treating him fine,” Jiang Cheng said in a dry voice as he joined them. “Though your concern commends you, Nie gongzi.”

Nie Huaisang jumped in surprise, and quickly bowed to him.

“Of course I didn’t mean to imply… and, well, he’s here to study, so clearly he is well treated, and your father must be quite impressed with him,” Nie Huaisang said, fidgeting with his sleeve. “I’m quite glad that things worked out so well!”

That other Jiang boy, the tall and handsome one, also joined them and threw an arm around Meng Yao’s shoulders to pull him close.

“It’s not Jiang-shushu who’s impressed with Meng Yao, it’s Yu-furen,” the boy said with a bright grin. “She’s the one who said he should come, because we’re less stupid when he’s with us.”

“She said you’re less stupid,” Jiang Cheng scoffed. “Don’t drag me down with you.”

“Yu-furen also thinks that having Meng Yao with us means that stupid peacock will keep his distances,” the other boy continued, unbothered by that interruption. “She’s really so scared that we’ll start an argument with him.”

“You would!”

“Only if he insults Shijie! Which he would, because he’s nothing but a self-important…”

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng hissed. “Can you not shut up just for a moment?”

The boy just laughed, while Nie Huaisang stared.

Surely there had to have been a mistake. That couldn’t be Wei Wuxian. There was simply no way that Lan Wangji would ever become even a little attracted to a person such as this, who was bold enough to insult Jin Zixuan within earshot, who was so careless regarding Meng Yao’s obvious discomfort at having the connection mentioned. Sure Wei Wuxian wasn’t half bad looking, but with a personality like that, Lan Wangji would only try to murder him, not kiss him.

“You know, if the teacher isn’t here yet, we can probably leave,” Wei Wuxian said. “That’s what we’d do at home. Let’s ditch the lesson and go have fun!”

Oh, Lan Wangji was so going to murder him when they met. Surely Nie Huaisang’s future self had to be mistaken about those two. 

“Hey, Wei-xiong, you shouldn’t say things like that,” Nie Huaisang advised. “There’s some people that might punish you if they heard you talk like this!”

“Sure, but the point is that the teacher isn’t here, so I have nothing to fear. Come on, Nie-xiong, it’s your second year here, right? Surely you’d rather run off to have fun with us than sit through some boring lectures again!”

As a matter of fact, Nie Huaisang very much wanted that. Considering how badly his studies went the year before, he had no reasons to think he would do any better that year either, so having fun would be a great use of his time. But that would upset Nie Mingjue, who didn't need that. And it might also disappoint Lan Xichen, which would be the worst thing ever. Having discovered that he enjoyed being praised, and how willing to do just that Lan Xichen was, Nie Huaisang didn't want to risk upsetting his friend. 

"When I say there's people you shouldn't make angry, I don't mean just Lan Qiren," Nie Huaisang warned. "He's mostly manageable, if you just avoid talking back and cry a little when he gets angry. But his nephew Lan Wangji is a real terror, and they've put him in charge of overseeing punishment for the juniors. You're lucky he's in seclusion at the moment, because just for speaking of skipping classes, he'd have your skin. He takes rules very seriously!"

"The teacher's nephew, uh," Wei Wuxian said with an odd smile. 

"You're thinking something unwise," Meng Yao accused. 

"Please don't go bother that guy as soon as he leaves his seclusion," Jiang Cheng warned. "Mother will murder you if you disgrace our sect!" 

Wei Wuxian's grin only grew wider, to the great anxiety of the other three. 

"That nephew, he wouldn't happen to be a very handsome boy?" Wei Wuxian asked. "About my size, very handsome…" 

"His brother looks much better," Nie Huaisang interjected without thinking. "Lan Wangji always looks so crossed… but he has a fine enough face, yes."

"And a silver sword that gives off a cold impression?" 

"Did you already meet him?" Nie Huaisang asked. 

"Yes, last night." 

"Last night?" Jiang Cheng repeated. "How… there's a curfew in place here! Are you already breaking rules?" 

Without a shred of regret or shame, Wei Wuxian started telling the story of his escape to buy wine, his attempt to return in secret, and his fight with Lan Wangji. Upon hearing that tale Jiang Cheng was furious, Meng Yao was worried, and Nie Huaisang so delighted he had to cover his mouth with both hands not to laugh. 

Lan Wangji losing his temper! Lan Wangji getting in a fight, and not even winning it! Lan Wangji failing to punish a criminal! It was the funniest Nie Huaisang had ever heard, and he couldn't wait to share all of it with Su She who would surely be just as entertained. 

This Wei Wuxian was a much more interesting person than anticipated, and Nie Huaisang could see himself becoming quite fond of him, even though he'd been determined to dislike him before. But that had been when he thought that his future self and Lan Wangji approved of him, two people whose opinion he didn't value much. 

"Wei-xiong, you are so dead," Nie Huaisang cheerfully announced when the other had finished his story. "It's going to be a matter of pride now, he's going to have his eye on you for the entire time you'll be here!" 

And for more than that, if Nie Huaisang’s future self was to be believed. That old prick didn't seem the sort to prank others, but it was also difficult to imagine Lan Wangji falling in love with someone like Wei Wuxian. People said that opposite attracted, but there were limits. Then again, it would be immensely funny if these two did become a couple. If it happened, Nie Huaisang might laugh to death. 

"That Lan Zhan is probably too busy to bother with me," Wei Wuxian claimed. "And it's not like he comes to the lectures, right? So I'm not worried in the least. Besides, I'm more than his match in a fight!"

The arrival of Lan Qiren, who seemed in as bad a humour as Nie Huaisang had ever seen him, cut short that conversation, though Wei Wuxian still looked quite sure of himself as they all entered the classroom. He only deflated a little when they all noticed that there already was a student sitting there, a Lan boy who only looked up from the scroll he was reading to glare at Wei Wuxian. In turn, Wei Wuxian did appear a little startled, having clearly not expected that his new nemesis would be there.

It took Nie Huaisang all of his self control not to laugh at this situation.

The plot to help Lan Wangji find a cultivation partner had held little joy when he had believed Wei Wuxian to be the second Jade's equal in temper. But discovering that Wei Wuxian was a wild spirit, sure to drive Lan Wangji mad with annoyance and to distract him from his duties, delighted Nie Huaisang. It was the funniest thing in the world.

It was the stuff of great romances, something which might blossom into a love story people would talk about for ages. Two people of opposite temper, of opposite values even, learning to see each other’s worth… it would be quite fun to watch that unfold, and even more amusing to give it a push here and there.

Helping the romance of others was the closest to living his own that Nie Huaisang was likely to get, so he’d have to content himself with that.

His lack of appealing skills made it unlikely he’d ever provoke the sort of strong sentiment already at play between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. But even a more talented nature would not have changed his delicate position as his brother's heir. Until his brother married and had children, Nie Huaisang knew it would be unwise of him to flirt with anyone of his own choosing, not when the Nie clan might someday require him to make a good match. The only reason he wasn’t already engaged to anyone, he suspected, was because there weren’t many girls of the right age among the greater sects, and because his brother disliked the idea of using him as a political tool unless absolutely necessary.

It was not easy, being next in line to inherit a sect, and Nie Huaisang was quite happy that he wasn’t in love with anyone at all. He only wished a little to be like Wei Wuxian, as a servant's son, free to live as he pleased as long as he did not bring any scandal for his sect. And it was lucky that Lan Wangji's status was not quite as dire as Nie Huaisang’s, not when he had a brother who was more likely to get married than Nie Mingjue, and even a relatively young uncle who could well have children of his own if needed. 

Lucky them indeed, but Nie Huaisang was determined not to envy them.

He’d just have his share of fun watching them… and maybe he’d see if Lan Xichen could be convinced to help too, just so they’d have another thing to laugh about together.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #su she #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #double time travel #I'm hesitating to tag this as wangxian on AO3 #them getting together is an important plot point but it's also not really the focus so...

[spencer-reid-in-a-pool]

Guest Speaker

Anon requested: Hi! I saw that your requests are open, so this is oddly specific but, could I get a Reid x reader where she’s a cheerleader kinda prom queen stereotype but she’s like really smart and majoring in criminology (maybe that’s how they meet?) and he’s sorta insecure about dating her, maybe it could be a bit smutty? If not it’s totally cool, thank you sooo much. 

Author’s note: First off, I would like to apologize to you anon. I took a rather long hiatus without really planning to due to some personal stuff, so I’m really sorry for that. I hope you still follow me, I hope you see this, and I hope above all else that you like it. Also, I should mention I didn’t add any smut because I didn’t feel like it fit the story. But, if you would like, I could do a smutty part 2! Just let me know. 

Part 2

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

Reader’s POV:

Could this class be any more boring? Sure, criminology is my favorite subject. But this professor looked like he had one foot in the grave, with the voice to match. Talk about naptime. 

I put my pen down in exasperation and decided that picking at my nail polish was a better way to spend my time. 

“Psst,” a voice hissed next to me. 

I popped my gum as I looked up at the source of the voice. It was Naomi, my best friend. 

“Girl, I didn’t even notice you next to me!”

“I know,” she whispered, trying not to laugh. “You were too enamored with your polish flaking off. Sometimes I wonder how you’re top of the class.” 

I stifled a laugh. 

“I wonder the same thing sometimes, Naomi. Hey, I think I might dip a little early. What do you think about coming with me?” 

No answer. I waited to see if she would respond, but she never did. Glancing up, I saw her staring towards the podium. There was no way she was looking at Dr. Daniels. I followed her gaze and about swallowed my gum in surprise. 

Dr. Daniels was up there, but next to him was someone I had never seen before. Quite unfortunate, if I do say so myself, because he had to be the most beautiful man I had ever seen. 

I whispered to Naomi out of the corner of my mouth, not breaking my gaze towards the man, “Who… is that?” 

“I think Daniels said he works at the FBI. A guest speaker, I guess. Dr. Spencer Reid.” 

She hadn’t stopped staring either.  

I rested my head in my hands and sighed. 

“He doesn’t look much older than us, Nay.”

She tilted her head and blinked slowly, “May the best woman win.” 

——————————–

“Alright, so that brings me to the end of my presentation. I have to get back to Quantico soon, but uh- I’ll stick around for some questions if anyone has any.”

Dr. Spencer Reid had to be the most beautiful, awkward, brilliant man I had ever seen. 

I glanced around the room as I packed my things. Not many people went up to ask questions. A few did, but only briefly. Their loss. 

Naomi nudged me with her elbow. “Gonna ask him a question?” 

I took a deep breath, “I don’t think any of my questions have anything to do with criminology.” 

Naomi laughed and shouldered her bag. “I’ve gotta get to my next class.”

She began walking down the steps to leave the room, but turned to me at the last second. 

She began pointing at him while his back was turned and mouthed the words, “Get his number for me.” 

As luck would have it, he turned around and noticed Naomi gesturing towards him. He looked at her and then up to me. A nervous smile graced his lips as he turned back around to pack his things. 

I widened my eyes at Naomi and she raised her hands in defeat with a huge grin on her face. 

Once she left, only Dr. Reid and I remained. I started my walk up to the podium, trying to come up with any questions that actually related to his presentation. As I slowed down near him, I prayed he couldn’t hear my heart ripping a hole in my chest. 

“Um, Dr. Reid.”

He lifted his head and looked towards me, pausing mid-action. His hands were large compared to the papers he was putting in his bag.

“What can I do for you?”

I shifted my weight around, trying to get comfortable. It didn’t work.

“I was just wondering- um, does the FBI take interns? It’s been a dream of mine to work for the FBI.” 

He turned all the way towards me and narrowed his eyes slightly. Was he judging me or something? 

“Yeah, actually we do. There’s tons of programs you can check out. What’s your major?” 

“Criminology,” I said softly. 

“Oh wow, really? I would’ve thought maybe it would have been… something else.” 

He glanced at my bag where my pom poms were sticking out. 

“Ah, yeah because I’m a cheerleader?”

“Uh, no no, that’s not what I meant- I just-”

I shook my head with a small smile. “No, don’t worry about it. I get it a lot. Cheerleading is just a hobby. I’m actually top of the class.”

Dr. Reid raised his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s very impressive! I was top of my class in- well, every class,” he said, laughing quietly.

“I don’t doubt it, but you don’t look much older than us. Are you that much of a genius you skipped so many grades?” 

He grabbed his bag and shrugged it on. “I do have an IQ of 187. I’m not sure if that’s what you were looking for.”

He smiled shyly at me. I was confident there was nothing this man couldn’t do.

“Wow. Well, that’s really impressive, too.” 

I paused for a second, hoping he didn’t notice my burning red ears. 

“Well, um, Dr. Reid, I don’t wanna hold you up. I’m sure you have way more important things to be doing than talking to me.” 

He looked down at his feet and shifted his bag.

“Talking to you was important. Here,” he dug in his bag as he spoke, “Take my card. I’ll um- check up on those intern programs for you. Call me- I mean call my office in a few days. I’ll have something for you.”

He handed me his card abruptly. I took it with slightly shaking fingers. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice that either. 

“I have to go, but it was nice talking to you. Hope to see you in Quantico some day,” he said as he smiled. 

I stood stone still in my spot, still holding his card as if he had just handed it to me. I only broke out of my trance when he cleared his throat at the door as he was leaving.

“You shouldn’t pick your nail polish off. That color looks good on you.” 

And then he was gone.

—————————————-

As I walked out of class, I couldn’t seem to make my heart stop fluttering. Dr. Reid wouldn’t flirt with me- right? No way. He was just complimenting me.

Naomi could tell something was up when I got to cheerleading practice. I didn’t want to tell her though; she’d never let me hear the end of it.

“You’re late! What’s up, (Y/N)? Did something happen?”

I shook my head. “Nothing happened, just took the scenic route!”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Spill. What happened?”

I sighed. I should’ve known she’d start in on me immediately. Guess I’ll save myself the trouble and just tell her now.

“I talked to Dr. Reid and he gave me his card. And…he said I shouldn’t pick at my nail polish because the color looks good on me.”

Naomi’s jaw dropped. “Show me. Card. Now.”

I dug in my pocket and handed her the card. She snatched it from my fingers that still felt tingly.

“Oh my God! What did you say to him to make him give you that?”

I grabbed the card back from her. “I said I was interested in an FBI internship.”

She scoffed. “Well, I don’t know about an internship but you gotta get laid. Call him. And use protection,” she finished, winking at me.

I rolled my eyes and followed Naomi to the sideline before coach started yelling at us.

————————————–

A few days had passed since I talked to Dr. Reid. I didn’t know what to do. Should I really call him or just forget that interaction ever happened?

I tried pushing the thought of him from my mind to focus on tonight. It was Friday night, which meant football. Not just football, but the rival team was playing us tonight. It was a huge game and tons of people are coming. I had to make sure I didn’t fuck anything up.

My makeup was done and my uniform was on, so I made my way to the field.

I was early of course, but there were already herds of people trying to get in. Young and old, students and non-students. Everyone was here. I felt the familiar rush of excitement I get before performing. There was nothing else like it in the world.

Tonight was gonna be a night to remember.

———————————–

Narrator’s POV:

“Tell me why we’re here again?” Derek asked in confusion.

Spencer scratched his head. He was no good at these kinds of things.

“Well, I was really young in college. I- I never got the full college experience as an adult.” He tried not to cringe at his own words.

Derek glaced at Garcia. She shrugged and turned to JJ.

“I’m gonna go grab a hot dog. Wanna come with?”

JJ nodded. “Of course! Want anything boys?”

Spencer shook his head and Derek asked for a drink. The two women walked off.

“Well let’s go find seats then, Pretty Boy.”

Derek took Spencer through the crowd; it wasn’t hard to see he had no clue what was going on.

They found an empty corner in the bottom row of the bleachers. Spencer hesitated as Derek sat down.

“You gonna stand there all night, kid?”

He glanced around before his eyes settled on Derek.

“Do you know how many germs there are on these things?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You wanted the full college experience. Here it is.”

Spencer groaned internally before sitting down.

“So tell me,” the bigger man said as he leaned forward, “Which one are you here for?” Derek gestured to the cheerleaders lining up on the field.

Spencer shifted in his seat and cut a sideways glance at Derek. “What makes you think I wanted to watch the cheerleaders?”

Derek laughed. “Kid, I might not be a genius like you, but I am a profiler. And I can tell when someone is crushing. You’ve been looking around here for something. My guess is, you saw a pretty girl at your guest lecture the other day and wanna see more of her.”

Spencer began to protest but sank back down in defeat. He looked around at the girls, trying to find the one he came for. After what seemed like forever, he found her.

“That one,” he pointed out, “in the very front with the (your hair color) hair.”

Derek looked at you as you began calling out to the other girls, leading them in a cheer.

“My man,” Derek said as he clapped Spencer on the back with a smile. “You better get to talking to her soon, or I may have to work my magic.”

Spencer sighed, “Go ahead. It’s not like she would like me anyway.”

“What makes you say that, kid?” 

“Well, it’s just- I’ve never had much luck with those types of girls. Remember a few years ago with JJ?” Spencer said quietly while looking at his hands.

“That was back then, man. Look at you now! I bet she’d be into you.”

Spencer tried not to smile. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Derek said, patting Spencer’s back once again.

Spencer smiled to himself. He felt a little better about everything. 

“What’s her name?” 

Spencer looked at Derek and paused. “I- I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

JJ and Garcia appeared then, hands full of snacks and drinks. 

Derek leaned back as the girls sat down behind them.

“He’s here for a girl,” 

JJ groaned and set her food down. Garcia smirked and held out her hand expectantly. After a second of digging in her pocket, JJ pulled out some money and slapped it into Garcia’s hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” she said as she put the money into her bag.

“Y- you guys took a bet?” Spencer asked in shock.

“All’s fair in love and war, dear doctor.”

“Garcia that doesn’t even- never mind,” Spencer said, shaking his head. He turned his head back to the field. 

You were at the top of the formation now, standing on one foot while holding your other leg in the air with one hand, being held up by all the girls underneath you. It took Spencer’s breath away. You were so beautiful. 

“OOH, she’s flexible!” Garcia grunted out past mouthfuls of hotdog. 

Spencer ignored the comment and continued watching. He didn’t expect you to watch him, though.

You had found him in the crowd and made eye contact for a second. He raised his hand to begin waving, but stopped when he saw the color leave your face. 

“Hey, woah- is she okay? She’s wobbling a little,” Derek said, shifting forward like he was going to stand up. 

“She looks like she’s gonna-” JJ started. She didn’t get to finish. The group watched in horror as you went limp and fell from the top of the formation. 

—————————————-

Reader’s POV: 

I loved being up here. There was no other feeling like it, especially when I got to call out the cheers tonight. 

We were nearing the end of this cheer, so I held out this position as long as I could, smiling at everyone in the crowd, making eye contact with as many as possible. I wasn’t expecting to make eye contact with Dr. Reid.

What was he doing here?! 

I felt my leg begin to wobble, but still held my position. My heart was pounding and I suddenly felt very cold. 

“Hey,” one of the girls below me hissed, “You okay?” 

“I-” I managed to whisper, “I don’t feel so good…”

I don’t remember falling, so I was a little shocked when I came to, laying on my back. The rest of the squad circled around me, panicked looks on their faces. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Stay down there. The AT is coming over to talk to you,” Naomi said, patting my shoulder. 

I groaned and tried sitting up, but she pushed me back down. “That’s not a good idea. You just passed out.”

My eyes fluttered shut as I tried to remember what happened.

“Ugh, how embarrassing. I’ve never fallen before.” 

Naomi smiled sadly at me. “It happens to the best of us. But what happened? Why did you lose it?” 

I rubbed my head and sat up slowly, much to the annoyance of Naomi and the AT. 

“I just felt- sick all of a sudden. I don’t know,” I lied quietly. 

The AT handed me a bottle of water. “Just nerves, baby. It’s a big game.” 

I nodded as she helped me up. “Yeah. Just nerves.” 

Naomi went back to the squad and told them I was okay. The AT sat me down on the sideline, leaning me against the fence. “Take a breather, hun. You’ll feel better by halftime.”

I gave her a smile as thanks, and took a sip of water.

A voice behind me called out, “Hey, are you okay?”

Dr. Reid stood on the other side of the fence with a bigger African-American man and two blonde girls, one wearing glasses and one without glasses.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine! It’s just a big game. A lot of nerves, you know?” 

I stood up and faced them. “Are these your coworkers?” 

“Oh uh, yeah, this is Derek, JJ, and Penelope,” Spencer said, gesturing to each of the people next to him in turn. 

I gave them a small smile and a wave. 

“So what are you doing here? FBI that boring that you have to come see a random college football game? Maybe I don’t want an internship,” I laughed out to them. 

Derek laughed with me. “Nah, Pretty Boy didn’t come for the game-”

Dr. Reid punched him in the arm.

The two women, JJ and Penelope, laughed as Derek raised his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright!”

I smiled and shook my head, looking back out to the field. 

“Hey, I never asked you the other day. What’s your name?” 

I turned my attention back to Dr. Reid. The other three were no longer in sight. 

“(Y/N). My name is (Y/N).”

“Well, nice to officially meet you, (Y/N).” 

“So what are you really doing here, Dr. Reid? It doesn’t take a genius to see that you have no interest in football.” 

I hopped the fence and stood next to him. 

“Hey, be careful. You did just have a pretty big fall.”

I grinned, a burst of confidence erupting in my chest. 

“Of course, Doctor.”

He leaned against the fence next to me and looked down to meet my gaze. “Call me Spencer.” 

My heart fluttered a bit. He was totally into me. 

“Okay. Spencer, then.” 

He smiled back at me. “Would you maybe want to get a coffee with me sometime?”

I turned towards him, hoping he didn’t see just how much I was blushing. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #reid #spencer #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #dr reid x reader #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #mgg #mgg imagine #mgg x reader #derek morgan #hotch #aaron hotchner #jj #Jennifer Jareau #Penelope Garcia #garcia #prentiss #emily prentiss #Luke alvez #matt simmons #fbi #bau #x reader #imagine #one shot #reader insert

[iclaimedtobethebetterbard]

of falling & skateboards

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Logan, Virgil, background Remus & Janus Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Pre-romantic/platonic Analogical (first meeting), romantic Dukeceit (getting together), platonic Dukexiety.  Warnings: Language, Remus is somewhat suggestive throughout because he’s Remus, minor injuries Word count: 4541

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

analogical week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: Virgil's friend Remus drags him to the skate park and promptly abandons him in order to flirt with Janus; at least Remus had the grace to introduce Virgil to Janus's attractive friend Logan, who is just as poorly versed in skateboarding techniques as Virgil.

Notes: Day 5 of Analogical Week 2021! @analogicalweek Remus uses he/they pronouns; at this point, Janus uses they/them.  Takes place in my Starlight Universe, does not need context to read. 

 Virgil’s phone began ringing, making him jump. He fished it out of his pocket, planning to hang up until he saw the caller ID. It was Remus—one of his new friends. They’d met at a club Virgil had gone to during orientation, and they’d hit it off and started hanging out. 

Virgil picked up the call. “Would it kill you to fucking text me first?” 

“You don’t respond fast enough,” Remus said, sounding bored. 

“Sometimes I’m in class, Remus!” 

“Are you in class now?” Remus asked. 

“...No.” 

“So it’s all good, see!” Remus cackled. “Anyway,” they went on, steamrollering over Virgil’s objection, “you wanna come to the skatepark with me this weekend?” 

That was totally out of the blue. “What?” Virgil asked after a pause. “Why?” 

“So, my brother has this roommate, and he’s super nerdy and boring but I think you’d totally get along and he’s coming to the skatepark with me and you should totally come along and meet him!” Remus explained. 

His voice was a little too self-satisfied. “What’s the catch?” Virgil asked suspiciously. 

Remus gasped dramatically. “Can’t I just want good things for my friend?” 

Virgil waited. 

“Also he’s friends with Janus and he’s bringing them, which is obviously totally unrelated,” Remus added. 

“Aha.” That made more sense; Remus had told Virgil way more information than he wanted to know about their crush on this Janus figure. 

“So you’ll come?” Remus asked eagerly. 

It wasn’t like Virgil had anything else going on this weekend. “Sure. I’ll come distract your friend so you can flirt.” 

“Hey!” Remus yelped, loud enough that Virgil winced and held the phone away from his ear. “Listen, this is a win-win situation for both of us! You’ll love him. Promise. He’s so fucking boring and nerdy, you’re going to talk each other’s ears off. It’ll be great! Trust me!” 

“Sure,” Virgil said, amused. “Text me the time and place. Text me,” he repeated for emphasis, and hung up the phone. 

On Saturday morning, he met up with Remus and the pair of them walked to the bus stop. Remus had their skateboard with them; Virgil didn’t own one, but Remus had assured him that he could check one out at the park for a small fee if he wanted to. 

“You did not say it was fancy,” Virgil accused as the bus pulled away from the stop. 

“What?” Remus looked down at himself. “Oh. No, I’m just sexy, nobody’s supposed to be fancy.” He was wearing a gray sports bra—it was the first time Virgil had seen him without a binder on, but even in a public setting he seemed totally unbothered—and faded jeans with huge holes in the knees, as well as platform doc martens and an olive green bomber jacket with “HE/THEY” stencilled on the back in white paint above a pair of skeletal hands giving double birds. His belly button was pierced and he was wearing a chunky black piece with small silver spikes in it; they had fishnet gloves on their hands, a black choker with small studded spikes on it around their neck, chunky black and silver studs in the three piercings he had in each ear, and messily smudged black and silver eyeshadow. His dark green curls were pushed back into a tiny, low ponytail that did absolutely nothing to contain them or make them less messy. “Pretty sure this isn’t what normal people mean when they say fancy, anyway,” they added thoughtfully. 

“Shut up, this is fancy. You’re being fancy to impress your crush.” Virgil elbowed them in the side. He was only wearing his typical combination of band tee, skinny jeans, and black hoodie; he felt positively underdressed next to them. 

“Yes, I am very very sexy and this is my mating call,” Remus said with an easy shrug. “What can I say?” After a pause, they added, “Do you think it’ll work?” 

Virgil snickered. “Sure. Whatever. You look very punk. I’m sure they’ll be very impressed.” 

“Good,” Remus said happily. “Here, this is our stop.” 

One thing Virgil had learned about Remus was that they had what seemed to be actually boundless energy, and it showed in the way they walked. They practically skipped, moving at a pace so quick Virgil had difficulty keeping up. But Remus was especially energetic today, and it got worse the closer they got to their destination. He was practically vibrating out of his skin by the time the park came in sight. 

“There they are!” he exclaimed, pointing to two people standing in the shade of a tree and making conversation. “Jan is the gothy one, the nerd’s all yours.” 

Virgil screeched to a dead stop and grabbed Remus’s elbow. “Dude.”  

“What?” Remus looked at him with raised eyebrows. 

“You didn’t say he was hot!” Virgil snapped. 

“What?” Remus looked bewildered, looking back to the people he’d pointed out. His expression cleared. “Oh, right, I forgot you can be attracted to cis people.” He looked back at Virgil. “I dunno. Make out with him about it?” 

“Jesus Christ—no! I don’t know anything about him, for starters?”

“Fuck first, ask questions later.” Remus grinned. “Or if you don’t want to, then just get over it. People are hot sometimes. No big deal.”

Virgil spluttered for a moment. “That is such terrible advice, please tell me you don’t actually—”

“No, no, I’m marginally smart sometimes, don’t worry about me. But I don’t know what you want from me, dude.” Remus shrugged. “This really seems like a you problem.” 

“I need to mentally prepare myself before I talk to hot people! A warning would have been nice!” Virgil said, hiding in the hood of his hoodie. 

“Mentally prepare yourself now, then,” Remus said pragmatically. “This is really not my fault, I simply am sexier than you at all times and it gives me the power to say no thank you to being attracted to cis people. How was I supposed to know you’d think he was hot? Like, if you get all hot and bothered by glasses and the walking personification of a college textbook, be my guest, but I don’t get it.” 

Virgil groaned. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind, could you shut up about it forever starting now?” 

“Oh, absolutely not, but your complaint is noted,” Remus said. “C’mon, let’s go say hi, some of us actually want to flirt with the people we think are hot.” They grabbed Virgil’s elbow and dragged him over. 

“Remus,” Hot Glasses Boy said cordially (and dammit, he was tall, which was another thing Virgil found attractive). “This is your friend, I assume?” 

“Yeah!” Remus grinned. “Logan, Virgil, Virgil, Logan. Apparently you’re hot. He’s emo. You’re both nerds, you should get along great.” 

“Remus!” Virgil snapped, cheeks going hot with embarrassment. 

“What? What?” Remus demanded, then elbowed past Virgil. “Hiiiii, Janus.” 

Janus raised a singular eyebrow, looking for some reason amused rather than annoyed. “Hello there.” They eyed him up and down. “I like your jacket,” they added, very obviously staring at his chest in a way that Virgil suspected has nothing to do with the jacket. 

Remus grinned and did a little twirl. “Thanks, I decorated it myself,” he said, wiggling his shoulders. “Wanna see me do a sick kickflip?” 

“Sure,” Janus agreed, and allowed Remus to link his arm through theirs and drag them eagerly away in the direction of the skating area, already talking a mile a minute and beaming up at them. 

Which left Virgil alone with this Logan guy and no idea what to talk about. He coughed, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Now that he was up close like this, Logan actually looked familiar, but Virgil couldn’t quite place him. Shit. Should he know him from something? 

“Don’t we have History 104 together?” Logan said, breaking the silence (and saving Virgil from the approximately two dozen different social gaffes he knew he was probably committing by not knowing what to say) all at once.

Virgil breathed out a sigh of relief, because yeah, that was it; this was the guy who sat at the front of the huge lecture hall and always raised his hand (and his voice was unmistakable too, now that he’d spoken; Virgil would have placed him in another minute). “Oh, yeah,” he said. He had no clue how the guy recognized Virgil; it was a big class, and Virgil usually sat by the back. Maybe he noticed Virgil on his way in? Virgil guessed he sat kind of close to the door. It was possible. 

“What do you think of the class?” Logan asked, and for some reason he sounded genuinely curious, not like he was just making small talk for the sake of it. 

Virgil had absolutely skipped two class sessions and napped through another, but he found himself not wanting to admit it. “It’s alright, I guess. The professor’s kind of dry for me, but the readings are okay.” That was more or less true, although it was maybe the most positive spin on his opinion. 

Logan nodded, adjusting his glasses and absorbing Virgil’s words like they were actually important information. “He is a bit long-winded sometimes. I wish he would be clearer about which things he intends to test us on.” 

Virgil nodded vigorously. “Right? Like, what’s up with that? Why is he spending twenty minutes out of the hour telling us about, I don’t know farming practices, or whatever, if he’s just going to say ‘oh, but that stuff won’t be on the test, I just think it’s interesting’ at the end?” 

“Well, it is interesting,” Logan said. (Virgil disagreed, but held his tongue.) “But I do wish he’d be clearer about what he intends for us to be taking away from his lectures ahead of time.” 

Virgil nodded again, and there was a brief silence while he scrambled for something to say. 

He glanced over Logan’s shoulder at the skating area; Janus was sitting on the edge with their legs dangling into the area, watching Remus, who was skateboarding back and forth at a speed that couldn’t be safe. 

“So,” Virgil said, looking back to Logan because he was pretty sure he’d scream if he watched Remus tempt fate any longer, “you’re friends with Remus?” 

Logan made a gesture that wasn’t quite a shrug. “I suppose so. He’s my roommate Roman’s twin, and the two of them spend a lot of time together, so I think I am friends with him by association. I’m much closer with Roman. Not that I don’t enjoy Remus’s company. I simply don’t know them as well yet.” 

“Right, right,” Virgil said. 

“How are you acquainted with them?” Logan asked. 

“Oh, we met at a club during orientation,” Virgil said. “We hang out a lot. He’s pretty chill most of the time.” Well. “Chill” wasn’t really the right word to describe anything Remus did, ever. But it did describe Virgil’s feelings towards him. 

“Ah, I see.” Logan nodded. “Do you know Janus at all?” 

“Not really—I mean, Remus talks about them a ton, but we haven’t really met or anything,” Virgil said. “You do, though, right?” 

“Yes, we were in the same group at orientation, and now we’re friends,” Logan said. “They and I like to deconstruct TV scripts together.” 

That sounded incredibly nerdy, and Virgil wasn’t even sure what it meant. “Wow,” he said, not sure how else to react. “Fun?” 

Logan smiled, and fuck, Virgil had managed to forget he was cute for a minute there, but it was back in full force now. “It’s lots of fun,” he agreed. 

They made some more small talk—majors, hometowns, and so on. Logan actually paid attention to every word Virgil said, and he was surprisingly easy to open up to. He didn’t seem judgemental, instead accepting every word Virgil spoke as important. Virgil was actually starting to feel comfortable talking to him, which was… cool. Remus’s assessment of the way they’d get along evidently hadn’t been too off. 

After a while, Logan looked over his shoulder at Remus and Janus; Remus had coaxed Janus onto the skateboard, and was pushing them back and forth, his hands clasped carefully around their waist and a huge grin spread across his face. 

“Are you planning to try that?” Logan asked Virgil, gesturing at the little building off to the side that was renting out skateboards and safety gear. 

Virgil hesitated. “I don’t know… are you?” he asked. 

Logan made a considering face. “I might. I’ve never been on a skateboard before.” 

“Wait, really?” Virgil asked. He hadn’t in a long time, but he’d been obsessed when he was twelve. He didn’t think that he’d been very good, but it hadn’t been for a lack of trying. 

Logan shook his head. “No, never.” 

“Well, we’ve got to change that,” Virgil found himself saying in spite of all the common sense that screams at him to not do something with such a high likelihood of making him look like a fool in front of a cute boy who was also turning out to be surprisingly easy to talk to, and thus a potential friend, which was honestly way more valuable than cuteness. 

Logan looked pleased, though, like he’d been hoping Virgil would agree, so Virgil couldn’t find it in himself to regret the decision. “Together, then?” he inquired. 

“Sure,” Virgil agreed, and they made their way into the building. 

They rented a pair of skateboards and two sets of safety gear for the minimum time—thirty minutes, at $15 apiece, which was definitely higher than Remus had implied but Virgil did luckily have the cash to spare—and made their way out to the skating area. 

Remus was now skating in tight, fast circles around Janus, who was holding perfectly still and calm at the lowest point of one of the curves built into the area. Virgil was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to be in the area without a skateboard of their own, but he also wasn’t about to tell them off and bring down the wrath of Remus upon himself. The two seemed engrossed in conversation, anway. 

Logan led Virgil to a completely different space from that which Remus and Janus were taking up. Virgil was grateful; he didn’t feel like being made fun of, no matter how good-naturedly, by Remus at this time, and while Janus was likely interesting enough to keep Remus from following them over here, they would never have passed up the opportunity if Logan and Virgil had stayed anywhere nearby. 

Logan stared at the skateboard he’d set down before himself on a flat space, looking vaguely perplexed. “You just climb on, right?” he inquired. 

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “You can, like, kick off with your foot to move, and stuff. Kind of like riding a bike.” He instantly regretted the comparison, and tacked on a hasty, “Only, not that much.” 

Logan made a small “huh” noise. “Interesting.” He cautiously put a foot on the skateboard and tested his weight on it. “Oh, I do not like that.” 

Virgil chuckled a little, tugging at the strap of his helmet to make sure it was securely fastened. “Yeah, it’s a pretty weird feeling, huh?” 

“The ground should be stable,” Logan said emphatically, staring at the skateboard that he was still barely resting one foot on with an expression on his face like it had personally wronged him. 

Virgil snickered. “Can’t say I disagree with you there, buddy. But seriously, it’s not too bad once you get used to it.” He hopped onto his own skateboard as if to prove his point, but he hadn’t realized he’d set it up on the barest incline, and as soon as his second foot left the ground it rolled right out from under him. 

“Are you okay?” Logan gasped, reaching to offer him a hand up. 

Virgil half laughed, because that was the best option just at this moment, trying his best to ignore the wish to go hide in a hole in the ground until everyone left and then never talk to Logan ever again. “I guess I deserved that,” he said, trying to shrug it off. “Got too cocky.” 

“You still shouldn’t get hurt! Are you okay?” Logan insisted, hands fluttering vaguely like he was resisting an instinct to check Virgil for injuries. 

Virgil’s tailbone was a little sore, which he was absolutely not going to admit to Logan under any circumstances when he’d only known the guy for half an hour, but aside from that—“I’m fine,” he insisted, brushing himself off. “Uh, thanks for the concern, though. I appreciate it,” he added awkwardly. 

“Are you sure? You—” Logan began. 

There was a loud cry of “FUCK!” from just out of sight that was undeniably Remus’s voice, followed by a crashing noise. 

“Oh, fuck indeed,” Virgil said under his breath, and scooped up his skateboard. “Come on.” 

Remus was rolling over as Virgil and Logan came into view of him; Janus was already kneeling by his side, worry plain to see on their face. 

“It was a very cool fall, don’t worry,” Remus yelled over at Virgil, pushing themself up on their elbows. “Ow, fuck.” 

“That is not the part I’m worried about, idiot!” Virgil called back as Remus gingerly poked at his knees, which were both scraped and bleeding. 

“No no, I’m fine, leave me alone, Virge,” Remus insisted hastily, making some complicated hand waving motions and glancing meaningfully at Janus. 

Janus looked very put out by this. “No, you know what, I’m inclined to let him scold you! Why would you not wear knee pads?” they demanded, grabbing Remus’s elbow, helping them to their feet, and guiding them to the side of the rink with motions far gentler than their words. 

Virgil paused, watching to see if Janus needed help, but now that it seemed they had it under control much more inclined to give into Remus’s wishes and let them handle it. 

“Because anarchy,” Remus said, grinning up at Janus and leaning all his weight on them, legs shaking slightly. 

Janus pushed him to sit on a bench with a fury that still managed to be gentle. “First of all, that is not what anarchy is, and second of all, even if it were, that’s still an objectively stupid decision to—”

“Oh, no, what a terrible mistake I’ve made,” Remus said with a shit-eating grin that told Virgil he knew the definition of anarchy perfectly well. “If only there were a smart, sexy nonbinary person around who knew all about anarchy, who could tell me what it really is while they tenderly bandage my wounds!” They cast themself back on the bench dramatically, draping the back of their hand across their forehead. 

Janus flushed slightly. “You could have just asked,” they said, and though their voice still had an annoyed bite it was softer now. “You didn’t have to get hurt before I gave you more attention.” They sank to their knees on the ground in front of him, examining the scrapes on his knees. 

Remus sat back up, reached out, and cupped Janus’s cheek in his hand, leaning far into their personal space. “Trust me, babe,” he said, and then something too low for Virgil to catch that made Janus flush a brilliant shade of red. 

Remus grinned and sat back, his fingers slowly dragging against Janus’s skin as he removed his hand from their face. “I have a first aid kit somewhere in here,” he said in a more normal tone, digging in his pockets and procuring a small white plastic box. He hesitated, eyes flicking to Janus. “If you don’t want—”

Janus rolled their eyes and shook their head. “Give me that.” They grabbed the kit and flipped it open, pinning down Remus’s legs with their elbows. “Don’t move.” 

Remus only rested his cheek on his fist, gazing down at Janus with a look on his face far softer and fonder than Virgil thought they’d ever admit to, should he call them out on it. 

“So,” Logan said in a low voice to Virgil, “please help me out here. Are they dating? I can’t tell.” 

“I’m so glad I’m not the only one who’s unclear on that,” Virgil responded in a similar tone, going to go pick up Remus’s abandoned skateboard. “I—I don’t think so? From the way Remus talked about this beforehand, I would have been sure not. But then they—” He gestured vaguely at Remus and Janus. 

“Exactly!” Logan agreed. “I wasn’t even sure if Janus liked them back before we got here, from how they talked about him.” 

Virgil snorted, watching Janus gently sponging Remus’s knees clean with a shockingly tender expression on their face, which up until now had been haughty. “That must have been a trip.” 

“You have no idea.” Logan shook his head. “Alright. I will continue to allow it to be a frustrating mystery, since you don’t seem to have the answer either. Do you wish to attempt skateboarding again before we have to return these?” 

Virgil glanced at his watch; there were only seven minutes left. “I dunno. It feels like Remus getting hurt kind of killed the mood for it a little, you know?” 

“I can understand that,” Logan agreed. 

They checked their skateboards and safety gear back in (Virgil deposited Remus’s skateboard next to the bench he was on as they went), and then made their way back outside. The sun was starting to reach just the sort of angle in the sky where it was annoying no matter which direction you were facing, so Logan and Virgil retreated to the shade of one of the nearby trees. 

“Did you know,” Logan began, examining a fallen leaf on the ground, “that you can actually eat magnolia blooms?” 

“Wait, oh my god, yeah!” Virgil sat up. “I haven’t done it before, but I really like making preserves.” It was a good activity for days when his anxiety just wouldn’t go away no matter what he did, because it took a long time and a lot of hands-on work that always helped to take himself out of his thoughts for a while. 

Logan lit up, adjusting his glasses and peering at Virgil with keen interest in his dark brown eyes. “Really? That’s fascinating! Tell me more!” 

That was honestly all it took to get Virgil to start explaining his hobby, and if he’d thought Logan had been paying attention to him when he talked before, that was nothing compared to this eager interest to learn that Logan was now displaying. He asked just the right questions to egg Virgil on and on, and occasionally interjected facts of his own, some of which Virgil knew and some of which he didn’t. It sounded like Logan didn’t have much actual experience with preserving food, but a decent framework of theoretical knowledge. 

“I wish I could see what that looks like in practice,” Logan said at one point, as Virgil explained the way fruit jellying worked. 

“I mean, I bet there’s videos on YouTube,” Virgil said thoughtfully. 

“Yes, but it’s not the same, you know?” 

Virgil turned this over. “Tell you what. Jellying is a lot of work, and I don’t think we could really do it in a dorm kitchen, but here. Give me your number. I’m down to show you some kind of preserving method. I’m sure we can figure out a way to make it work with what we’ve got.” He dug his phone out and opened it to a new contact page. 

Logan’s eyes widened. “Really?” 

“For sure, dude.” Virgil handed him the phone and watched as he punched his number in. “It’s been a while since I did any kitchen work anyway, I could use the destressor.” 

“I would love that, thank you!” Logan said with an enthusiasm that was absolutely catching. 

Virgil chuckled. “No problem.” As he reaccepted the phone from Logan, he noticed the time at the top of the screen. “Oh, shit, it’s nearly three. Do you have anywhere to be?” 

Logan blinked. “Really? It doesn’t feel like it’s been long at all.” 

“I know, right?” Virgil agreed with a small laugh. Talking to Logan was surprisingly enjoyable, given how rare it was for Virgil to really like the company of new people.

“I do have a paper due tonight that I haven’t started yet,” Logan said thoughtfully.

“Dude, what? Oh my god.” Virgil felt the onset of deadline panic setting in, even though it wasn’t even his own deadline. “What do you mean, you haven’t started?”  

“Oh, it’s fine.” Logan waved his concern away. “It’s only three pages, I can do it no problem by then.” 

“But, like, research? Drafts?” 

“No, I already know it all. I can find sources to back me up easily. Trust me, I know what I can and can’t get away with when writing a paper. I only need to worry about drafts and research when it’s five pages or more. Anything less than that I can write the day it’s due and still get an A.” Logan spoke with an easy confidence that would be annoying in almost anyone else, but that somehow couldn’t quite manage to put Virgil off. Not after the absolute delight Logan had shown over the last half hour as he learned from Virgil. 

“If you say so. I still hate that,” Virgil told him. 

“That is what most people say when they learn about my homework methods.” Logan nodded. “Should we gather up our companions—oh.” His eyes widened as he looked over Virgil’s shoulder. “Um.” 

Virgil turned to look too. “Wow. Uh.” 

Remus and Janus were—well, to put it bluntly, they were making out. Much more extensively than was probably appropriate, given the public setting. Remus had Janus backed against a wall, with their legs around his waist as he held them up and kissed them, sloppy and desperate and gleeful, like he was on a mission to map and memorize the shape of their mouth. Janus was clinging to him tightly and kissing back like they’d never get another chance to. 

“Um,” Logan repeated again, frantically looking anywhere but at their friends. “Well. That is. Something.” 

Virgil laughed a little, also looking away. “Yeah… I mean. I guess now our question about dating is maybe answered?” 

“I hope so,” Logan said fervently. “However, just at this moment, I feel a strong inclination to, ah, pretend I don’t know either of them.” He chuckled, but Virgil got the distinct sense he was only half joking. 

Virgil snickered. “I mean, I feel like they’d deserve it at this point if we deserted them. Want to head back to campus together?” 

Logan perked up. “Really?” 

“Sure, dude. You seem pretty cool.” Virgil offered an awkward fistbump, and after staring wide-eyed at it for a brief second, Logan returned it. 

“You seem cool as well,” he said. “Shall we?” 

“Let’s do it.” Virgil got to his feet and followed Logan to the bus stop.

Virgil wasn’t normally one to get his hopes up, but he hoped this Logan guy would stick around for a while. He seemed like exactly the sort of person Virgil could have an amazing friendship with.

Taglist: @fivehargreeves05 

#analogical #analogicalweek #analogical week #thomas sanders #sanders sides #thatsthat24 #logan sanders #virgil sanders #ts logan #ts virgil #romantic analogical #platonic analogical #dukeceit #romantic dukeceit #platonic dukexiety #remus sanders #ts remus #janus sanders #ts janus #nonbinary remus #nonbinary janus #ts fic #ts fanfic #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #language #peregrin's starlight universe

[stevesharrlngtons]

just a little downhill.

mickey x reader

summary: after a hard day of work, mickey comes home to a very unwelcome and unexpected guest: his little brother.

word count: 4.5k

a/n: mickey and his brother goodness! as briefly discussed, kevin’s face claim is pete davidson (: and if you’re curious, here is another discussion of mickey’s parents. i hope you enjoy and if you do, i’d love to hear it (:

Although Mickey had been out from under his parents order for years now, he never seemed to shake the responsibilities they had assigned him. 

When Mickey was old enough, with a high school diploma under his belt and not much else, he escaped two towns over to flee his parents and their needs. To, at the time, do his best to escape their overbearing asks and assumptions of him. He took very little when he fled in the night; a few articles of well worn clothing; his box of drugs and corresponding paraphernalia; an envelope of mementos of his relationship with you; and you, as well. You both escaped your grim situations with wild eyes and hearts, between flurried kisses and giggles, you made your way to your new lives. 

Now, all these years later, you both were still shacked up in your cozy ground floor apartment, with it’s warped tiles and shag carpets, and Mickey had never been happier. Sure, he worked a demanding manual labor job and he had few future prospects, but he was on his own and living with the woman he loved. To Mickey, there truly wasn’t anything better than that. He suspected he could be forsaken to any living conditions, demands or labor, but as long as he had you by his side, he would be happy as a clam. 

You were the one who kept him sane. The one who taught him how to float instead of thrashing in the water. The one who taught him the gentle caress of love. The one who was the only salve for any and all problems that were thrown his way. 

And when it came to his chaotic life, he needed your healing touch more often than he would like to admit. 

Because while the distance between him and his turbulent family offered excuses for why he couldn’t invariably swoop in and save the day, the milage didn’t often deter his parents from calling on Mickey whenever they needed something. Their expectations still held true no matter the separation.

Mickey was expected to come over and soothe tensions when their fights reached a volume to where the neighbors got involved. 

Mickey was expected to drop everything, no matter the circumstance, to help wrangle their old mutt whenever he escaped and began to terrorize the neighborhood kids.

Mickey was expected to drive the hour to their trailer whenever there was an appliance that needed fixing. Usually after his father had stormed off in frustration when he couldn’t do it himself. 

Mickey was also expected to fix a litany of other things that his parents refused to call in an expert about, but had no problem pawning it off on their son (even if he was no more qualified to fix things then they were).  

But above all, Mickey was expected to look out for his little brother. To watch out for him, and to take care of him when he couldn’t take care of himself. This had always been his most fervently requested task, and possibly the one he resented the most. 

And when he came home to find his fuck to of a little brother with his back against the brick siding of Mickey’s apartment building, a joint between his lips and his head angled toward the sun, he knew his everlasting duty to care for the kid was about to rear its ugly head once more. 

Today was just an exceptionally bad day for this to happen. 

Because before he even saw Kevin’s face, it had been a day where he had just wanted to come home, lay his head on your lap as you pressed delicate kisses to his skin. He needed to be enveloped in your soothing smell and coaxed into relaxation by your voice. He just needed you, because today had been awful. The last thing he needed was to deal with any member of his fucking family.

The day started off with the buddy he carpooled with burning a hole in his brand new seat cover on the way to work. Then it was announced that OSHA would be monitoring their site they were at for the morning, which meant nothing got done and the crew was way behind schedule. When lunch rolled around, Mickey dropped his sandwich on the ground, which caused his coworkers to start an uproar of teasing and laughter whenever he was around. And, of course, after he was already in their crosshairs, his drill decided to stop working, which only fueled the other mens mocking. 

And to make it all worse, his mother had been calling on a loop since noon. He refused to answer, not wanting to deal with her drunk ramblings or vicious criticisms, which just meant that the calls kept coming. Now that he thought of it, he was sure the sudden vibration in his pocket had been the reason he had dropped his sandwich in the first place.

Thanks mom. Fuck you.

“The fuck are you doing here, Kev?” Mickey grunted from around his cigarette as he approached his front door. 

“Didn't Ma call?” 

“I don’t answer her calls sober,” he shoved his key into the lock and pushed the door open with his shoulder.

As the door opened, Mickey cringed as Kevin quickly sprang to his feet and pushed past him into his home. He had expected it, but it still made his stomach drop as it happened. When Kevin planted himself somewhere, he was often hard to peel back up. Last time Kevin had come over to beg for money, he didn’t leave for four days, leaving a permanent lanky body print in Mickey’s couch. 

“Can’t really blame you for that,” Kevin chuckled as he collapsed onto the living room couch in a huff, “we didn’t invent The Scale for nothin’.” 

The Scale referred to the made up increment system the two invented in middle school on how high they had to be to pleasantly deal with their parents. Their mother was usually a Bill and Ted and their father was always at very least Cheech and Chong. The brothers sometimes would still refer to The Scale when they were going through a spurt of getting along. But this was not one of those times. 

Mickey hadn’t seen Kevin on an unencumbered social call in over two years. Kevin used to visit every weekend; to party, play video games or just spend time with his older brother; but now it was only under the guise of extorting money (that Mickey really didn’t have to give) or in a search of a place to crash while he was on the outs with their parents or whatever girl he was currently seeing. 

Because of his mother’s incessant calls and Kevin’s mention of her, he assumed it was the latter this time. 

“Yeah, well clearly you’ve already started,” Mickey grouched, as he tilted his head to the blunt that was still between his brother’s lips. 

Mickey was anything but a prude, but when his deadbeat brother came swaggering into his home with no humility or shame, smoking pot and bogarting his couch, Mickey suddenly turned into a stuffy Christian mother, sticking his nose up and huffing at the mention of any illicit substance. 

“Oh, I’m sorry man, you wanna hit?” Kevin asked, completely oblivious to his brother’s annoyance. 

“What are you doing here, Kev?” 

Kevin’s eyebrows raised at Mickey’s bluntness and whistled low under his breath, before settling back against the couch. 

“Take the stick out of you ass, Jesus Mick,” 

“I’m serious, Kev. What is it? Spit it out, I had a long fucking day. I don’t have the patience to deal with this.” 

“You sound like dad,” Kevin chuckled, smoke billowed from his mouth as he propped long legs onto the coffee table. 

His tolerance for Kevin running thin already, Mickey marched over to the couch and shoved his legs from the coffee table with haste. Kevin’s eyes grew wide with surprise and slight betrayal when he looked at his brother again. 

“I’m not fucking around, Kevin! (Y/N) is gonna be home any minute and I want you gone when she gets here,” Mickey raked a hand through his tousled locks and went in search of his work coat to find a new cigarette. 

“(Y/N) loves me,” 

“Yeah, because you prey on her kindness. Now tell me what it is or I’m calling dad to pick you up.” 

That seemed to scare him enough to reveal the reason for his visit.

“I need a job.” 

And there it was. Mickey let out an encompassing sigh as he turned his back to his baby brother. This wasn’t the first time Kevin had asked for a job, and Mickey doubted it would be the last. 

Others might applaud his brother’s initiative to better himself and search for personal contacts to find him work, but Mickey knew better. He had tried to help him get a job more times than he could count, and Kevin always did something to fuck it up. 

Whether it be never showing up, being high on the clock, failing drug tests or fighting with customers and coworkers, something always went wrong. Mickey had burned many a bridge to defend his brother from these employers, because no matter how insane Kevin made him, he was still his brother and he would be damned if anyone said a bad word about him. Other than him, of course. 

“Yeah? And what the fuck am I supposed to do about that?” Mickey challenged. 

“Talk to Stephen,” Kevin replied simply. 

“Fuck no!” Mickey almost laughed, “Man, I need this job, I can’t have you fucking it up for me.” 

“I won’t! I won’t fuck it up!” 

“Yeah, ok. Whatever you say, Kev.”

“I’m being serious!” 

“No, no way, dude. No, Kev. I can’t lose this job. I got bills and shit, now! Did you know you have to pay for garbage pick up at a place like this? Because I sure as shit didn’t! We can’t even bury it like dad did,” Mickey lectured, “and y’know what? I got a girl, one I’d really like to fucking keep. Which means actually keeping this stupid construction job to keep paying for fucking garbage. I can’t have you gettin’ us both canned.” 

“I’ve changed, Mick. I have!” Kevin reinforced when his brother rolled his eyes, “I’m twenty four now. I got like, perspective on stuff, and shit.” 

“Kev, -“ Mickey started, but didn’t continue as he heard a key in the front lock. 

Seconds later you appeared, hair piled high on your head and still adorning your work uniform. Even with his brother pissing him off and the weight of an awful day on his shoulders, Mickey couldn’t stop the goofy smile that spread over his face when he saw you. Worn from a hard day and in your boxy hotel maid get up, you were still the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on. 

“Hey, baby,” Mickey said as he crossed the living room quickly to greet you. 

“Hi, baby,” you looked up at him, a similar lovesick smile on your lips as Mickey wrapped you in a crushing embrace. 

You craned your head back to capture his pouted lips in a kiss. They will tinged with more nicotine than usual, and you knew something was off before you pulled apart. Your hands had begun to inch toward Mickey’s nape when you heard movement on the couch. When you pulled away, you saw him

“Oh, hey, Kev. I didn’t see you there, honey,” you offered him a kind smile as you moved to rest your cheek on Mickey’s chest.

Mickey tried to keep the scowl off his face as his brother grinned at you. 

“How ya been, (Y/N/N)? Man, it feels like it’s been ages!” his brother charmed, pushing up from the couch to come meet you for a hug. 

When you pulled away from Mickey to do so, Mickey swore you were taking a part of his resolve with you.

“It has, you don’t come ‘round like you used to,” you said, parting from Kevin to smoothe your hands over his broad, boney shoulders. As you inspected Mickey’s baby brother, you spied something new, “this a new addition?” 

You poked the ridge of black ink peeking out of his t-shirt, just below his collar bone. 

“Awh, yeah. Yeah it is,” Kevin pulled down the collar of his shirt enough for you to see the tattoo that joined the ranks of his many others, “it’s the Brooklyn Bridge.” 

“Oh,” you said, a little surprised by the choice, but admiried it nonetheless, “I like it. It’s nice linework. Can’t say the same for the rest of ‘em, though.”

“Yeah, yeah, very funny!”

You winked up at him before you removed yourself from his orbit to return to Mickey’s. Though, on your way back to your man, you saw the firm look of displeasure on his face, and that face was directed firmly at his brother. You stopped in your tracks and traded glances between the two boys, one angry and one bashful, before you spoke. 

“Alright, what’s goin’ on?” 

“What do you think is goin’ on?” “Nothin’.” the brothers spoke in unison. 

You turned your gaze hard at Mickey. He let silence hang in the air for a long beat before he spoke.

“Kev is lookin’ for a hand out. But what’s new?” Mickey scoffed. He planted a swift kiss to the crown of your head before he walked past the both of you to the kitchen. 

“Hey, fuck you man! All I was asking for was help!” Kevin shot back, he turned quickly on his heel to face his brother. 

“I can’t give you any fuckin’ help, Kev! Look what I got,” Mickey waved widley, “there ain’t shit here to give!”

“You could give me your contacts, I could start sellin’ the shit you have left from -” 

“You aren’t taking my contacts and you’re not touching the shit I got from Georgia. That’s mine to do what I please with,” Mickey bellowed, yelling louder than you’d ever heard before, “I don’t need you fucking up the relationship I have with my clients, either.” 

“Clients,” Kevin said in a mocking, posh accent, “their fucking drug addicts!” 

“Yeah? And what the fuck are you, again?” 

“What the fuck am I? What the fuck are you, man?” 

The two had slowly begun to advance toward each other in their squabble, and now were only a pace apart. You knew if they were to get any closer, fists would be thrown. It wouldn’t be a good fight, neither boy had ever been good in physical altercations. The fight would likely consist of misthrown punches and cheap shot kicks, but that didn’t matter. You didn’t want either to get hurt or take anything too far. 

“That’s enough!” you shouted over their bickering, “Mick, c’mon. Come talk to me in the bedroom, please.” 

Mickey’s angry expression faltered the moment he looked over Kevin’s shoulder at you, “Baby, I can handle this.” 

“Mickey. Bedroom. Now.” you had already started to head that way, and Mickey knew if he wasn’t right behind you, he’d be in deep shit. 

With a petulant sigh, he followed you down the hall to the bedroom and shut the door behind him when he entered. You had sat on the edge of the bed and Mickey found his place to slouch against the opposite wall. 

“I can’t deal with him, baby. I can’t deal with his bullshit anymore,” he said, defeated. 

“He’s your brother, Mick. You love him. And sometimes the people you love need more help than you do.” 

“But that’s the thing, he needs so much more. He takes and he takes and he takes, and somehow, he still needs more. I can’t give him anything else. No one can. He’s more of a fuck up than I am, and that’s saying something,” Mickey puffed. 

“You’re not a fuck up, Mick,” you frowned, your brows peaking with heartache. 

Mickey gave you a pointed look, “I kinda am. You don’t gotta sugar coat it.”

You stood from the bed and crossed the short space between you two. When you reached him, you wrapped your arms around his waist and nestled close to his chest. Mickey accepted your embrace easily and gratefully. 

“You are not a fuck up, baby. You have a good job, you have a good life. You provide for me, for our little two person family. And you make me happier than I ever thought possible... you simply aren’t a fuck up because no man I love could be,” you smiled at the tail end of your sentence. 

You propped your chin on his chest like you had minutes earlier and looked deep into his green eyes, both soft and brimming with adoration. 

“I fucking love you so much, you know that?” he smiled, little crow's feet growing by his eyes as he did. 

“I do. And I love you, too.” 

Mickey sighed, relaxation soothing his muscles at the sound of your confession. He gently pressed your cheek back to his chest and reveled in the feeling of your body against his. 

“But really, baby, what are we gonna do about Kev?” you asked after a moment of calm. 

Mickey’s brows furrowed, the pressure behind them intense and blaring. 

“He’s not our problems, baby. He’s an adult.” 

“He is. But he’s also a sweet kid with a good heart, and he just needs some extra help. And I think we should try to help, at least the best we can.” 

Mickey’s head made a thud as he collapsed to the wall behind him, “baby, we can’t keep doing this. We can’t keep bailing him out. We can’t keep bailing them out.”

The image of his parents popped behind his eyes, both fragile and gray and somehow even crueler than ever. He didn’t want to spend his life being their eternal whipping boy, cleaning up their messes when they couldn’t. And that included the mess they had made in his brother.

“This isn’t about them, alright? Fuck them, you know precisely what I think of your parents,” you frowned, and Mickey felt his heart pick up with pride at your protectiveness, “but you also know what I think about Kevin. He really is a good kid deep down. He’s talented. He just needs a little more support before he’s gonna feel comfortable jumping out on his own.” 

“He still drives me fucking insane…” Mickey retorted.

“He’s your little brother, of course he does.”

“Baby, he really does. You have no idea how much that little shit gets under my skin.”

“Oh, c’mon! You love him! He’s like, sad, high, tattooed Big Bird,” you giggled as you heard a grumble vibrate in Mickey’s chest. 

“Yeah? Well, then what am I?” 

You pulled away from him once more, but only far enough to look him in the eyes. 

“You’re like, strong, sexy, smart Big Bird,” you said, your voice a seductive purr as you placed a few chaste kisses to his jaw, “or Snuffleupagus.” 

Mickey’s face twisted in confusion and slight disgust, “why?” 

“Because he was always my favorite when I was a kid.” 

And his expression instantly extinguished into one of warmth and tenderness. Emerald eyes bathing you in liquid love. 

“You just never stop being cute, do you?” he grinned. 

“Nope,” you said, letting the work pop from your lips. 

He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead and took a deep breath of your pheromones; your sun bathed skin and your sweet smelling hair. And as he let his lips stay perched on your skull, he realized that he would do anything for you, no matter the request. He had had this feeling many times before; of his overwhelming and striking devotion to you; though it never ceased to rattle his swelling heart in his chest, and remind him the exact reason he was put on this earth: to make you happy. 

So, if you wanted him to try and help Kevin, then he would. It was the least he could do for all the happiness and love you brought to him. 

But, if he was being honest with himself, there was always going to be a part of him that wanted to nurture his baby brother in any way he could. 

Somewhere in his mind and his heart, Kevin would always be the small blushing bundle handed off to him in a dingy hospital room. It was one of his first formative memories, his little brother wrapped in a white blanket as his mother’s groggy eyes looked upon both of them. Mickey had never held a baby, let alone a newborn, and the tiny writhing creature looked very strange to him, red and angry and crying.

A month before Mickey’s mother would give birth to Kevin, their father had stormed out of the house, and by the time her water had broken he had still yet to turn. So pained and afraid, his mother had piled Mickey in the car after her and drove them both to the hospital. A cigarette in one hand, while her other gave the steering wheel a death grip. As she groaned with contractions and cursed at the traffic, she said something to him that he never forgot: 

“You are the real man of the house, Mickey-honey,” she said in her graveled voice, “this little boy is always gonna look up to you. You gotta live up to that.” 

And that message had bounced around between his ears as his mother, alone and in extraordinary agony, gave birth to his brother. Who as he had held him in his tiny spindly arms, Mickey knew that he would keep him safe forever. No matter what.

A part of that soul promise to his blood now seemed to be finding Kevin a job to keep him afloat. To keep him out of trouble and away from falling down the path their parents had. He honored past his past self in that moment, continuing on with the pledge to keep his brother safe. 

“Fine,” Mickey muttered to your skin, “we’ll help ‘im.” 

“Really?” 

Mickey simply shrugged. 

You moved your hands from where they had been secured behind his waist to come and cradle his cheeks, “you’re a good man, Mick.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he played off, eyelids fluttering. 

“The best man I know,” and you kissed him tenderly, the soft feeling of your lips electrifying him.

He hummed when you pulled away, but with more anguish than pleasure. 

“Let’s get this over with,” Mickey said. He quickly untangled himself from you and exited the bedroom before you could even process your post kiss haze. 

“Kev,” Mickey called, finding his brother laying down on the couch now, the television remote in his hand as he flipped channels, “get the fuck up.” 

“Hey, woah, listen Mickey, alright? I’m sorry! I am, I’m sorry,” Kevin began, stammering nervously. 

Mickey could tell that his brother was trying to save face. That he was trying to bargain for his help, and that he believed that Mickey was coming back to tell him to leave and never come back. But he didn’t stop him, Mickey thought Kevin deserved to squirm a bit. 

“I know I’ve fucked up, like really fucked up over and over again. But I got this this time, ok? I’m like, I’m ready for, I don’t know, a fresh start. I’m ready to do better.” 

Mickey simply crossed his arms as his brother stared up at him with heavy set brown eyes. They were flickering around the room, scared to look at his older brother who loomed over him. Mickey was sure he was searching for you, knowing he could always grovel at your feet for sympathy. 

“Fuck! What am I supposed to say, stop being such a-“ but Kevin stopped himself before he finished, knowing it likely wasn’t smart to start name calling the person he was asking a favor of. 

“No, no, continue. What am I being? Hm?” Mickey raised an eyebrow. 

Kevin’s jaw tightened, “.... a really, good guy.” 

His pained voice would have made Mickey laugh if he wasn’t wearing a stoic persona. It reminded him of when Kevin was forced to apologize as a child, their dad’s hand pulling up his ear as he spat out an apology. 

“Imma ask around, alright? Been hearing about some landscape work a buddy of mine has been talking about. I’ll call you tomorrow.” he finally said, putting his anxious brother out of his misery. 

“No shit?” Kevin asked with a suspicious lilt. 

“No shit. And if you get the fuck out of my house in the next five seconds, I might even put in a good word for you.” 

“Fuck,” Kevin exhaled, his body deflated like a balloon against the cushion, “you have no idea-“ 

“Nope, I don’t,” Mickey interjected, “and I don’t want to. Now fuck off, dude. My lady is home and I don’t need you here.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, alright!” Kevin said as he was shooed off the couch and to the door, “thank you, (Y/N/N), you hear me, babe?” 

You heard the commotion from the bedroom and popped your head out to watch Mickey escorting Kevin out. Stripped down from your uniform and now bundled in a pair of Mickey’s thread bear sweatpants and his favorite Scorpions t-shirt. 

“You look gorgeous, by the way! So good, does Mickey tell you enough?” Kevin had widened his gangly limbs in the door frame to keep his brother, who was shoving him quite hard, to stop him from leaving. 

“He does, Kev. I promise,” you grinned at the brotherly exchange as they threw jabs at each other, “I’ll see you soon, honey.” 

“Bye, (Y/N/N)!” was the last thing Kevin got out before Mickey slammed the door in his face, not worrying about if there were stray fingers left behind. 

“That fucking kid…” Mickey said under his breath, locking the deadbolt with a resound click. 

You pushed away from where you had leant against the wall and walked toward him, “my man… my sweet, strong man who has such a big heart and helps out his family.” 

You plastered yourself to his back, bringing your hands down to fiddle with the hem of his shirt, “my man who provides for me,” you pressed a kiss to his shoulder, “for the people he loves,” one to his trap, “who is the best person I’ve ever known,” one to his neck. 

Mickey whimpered under your ministrations, caught up in the whispered pleasure of your lips and nimble fingers that greedily took inventory of his torso.

“You’re really tryin’ to start something, huh?” he chuckled as you began to suck on his pulse point. 

“And if I was?” 

As soon as the last syllable left your mouth, Mickey had twisted around to take handfuls of your thighs to hitch you up around his waist. 

You couldn’t hold in the excited giggle that bubbled from your chest as he marched you both back toward your room in quick succession. His long strides getting you both back between the sheets in no time. All thoughts of  dropped sandwiches and burn holes and faulty equipment and pesky little brothers, gone. Now, there was only you, and that was just the way Mickey liked it. 

if you follow me you know that i have been going through a major writing block and a creativity dry spell, so while i don’t think this is my best work, it is fun and silly and soft and nice to write (:  if you enjoyed, i would really love it hear it <3 ‘til next time!

#mickey x reader #mickey villains #mickey villains x reader #mickey villains imagine #mickey villains imagines #mickey villains fanfic #mickey imagine #mickey imagines #mickey villains fanfiction #bill skarsgård fanfiction #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard fanfiction #stevesharrlngtonswrites

[kozumekenza]

house of memories :: two

:: kageyama tobio x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.1k ::

the last you had heard of kageyama tobio, he was following his grandfather’s footsteps and leaving you behind to join the syndicate. a chance meeting throws him back into your life, along with all of the memories.

tw: alcohol, mafia elements, profanity

You’re shivering, the moonlight reflecting off of the tears on your face. You really shouldn’t look this beautiful while crying, he thinks, and immediately admonishes himself for the thought. However, he also finds it fitting. There will be a lot of tears where he’s going; a lot of break-downs, a lot of pain. But still, he doesn’t think it’ll compare to the breaking of his heart in his chest when he watches you turn away from him forever. 

---

Kageyama Tobio is known for a lot of things; his cold exterior, his unforgiving nature, his skills with a weapon. He is also known for his unfriendliness, performing his job with a blank face and a calculating mind. He is known for having impenetrable walls and refusing to let people inside them. He is known for his detachment to everything around him; he doesn’t form connections with others, and his emotions are seemingly nonexistent. 

Even still, he can’t help but feel devastation and despair when he watches you walk away from him yet again, four years later, slipping from his grasp for the second time. 

---

After mumbling a quick apology to the bartender, who you now realize was Kageyama Miwa, you bolted to the dance floor and dragged Hana out of the club. She went willingly, asking next to no questions, her state of intoxication making her follow you with no complaints. 

Now, as you half-carry her into your shared apartment, you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if you stayed. It was obvious that both of the Kageyama siblings recognized you, although Miwa’s reaction was far better. Hana falls asleep the moment her head hits the pillow, and you leave her with a bottle of water and painkillers for the morning, sighing as you do so. You can only hope that she doesn’t ask too many questions about your quick escape tomorrow. You aren’t ready to dive into your past with Kageyama. 

When you finally crawl into bed, sleep evades you. Your night is spent tossing and turning, and when you finally do drift off, your dreams are filled with flashes of navy eyes and raven hair. 

---

The weeks pass as the sweltering heat of summer finally comes to an end; suddenly, you and Hana are back to your normal lives as college students. She asks no questions about that night at the club, and you’ve pushed it to the back of your mind, practically forgetting about it. 

The beginning of the semester starts, and with it, late night studying and weekends spent partying. Hana’s still going strong with the guy that has the membership, and you’ve finally met him, learning his name is Ushijima. He’s stoic and serious, but his love for Hana is obvious, and their relationship has progressed past late-night flings and one-night stands. You’re happy for her, even when she says that he’s not a college student, but a businessman who works under the CEO of a fairly well-known company. You know that’s true on the surface, but you don’t tell Hana that her newest lover is most likely one of Kageyama’s colleagues, whose job involves more guns and blood than it does numbers and desk work. 

All things considered, he treats her well, taking her on extravagant and luxurious dates, picking her up in a Bugatti, and always bringing her flowers. He’s respectful whenever he sees you, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s just a nice, rich man. You know that Kageyama probably told him about you, but you can’t be particularly bothered, especially when Hana’s eyes light up whenever she talks about him. 

You start your fourth and final year of university without much fanfare; for you, it’s back to research work in the lab and long lectures on biology and medicine. You’re slightly envious of Hana’s path in nursing; she’s already working in the hospital and doing clinicals. Unfortunately for you, you’re stuck applying for medical schools while balancing your ever-growing list of lab write-ups and reports. 

It’s a fairly normal day, a few weeks into the semester, when Kageyama becomes the focus of your mind once again. 

You walk out of your final lab feeling exhausted; it’s already eight in the evening, and Hana’s on night shift, so you’ll be alone in your apartment for the night. Normally, you don’t mind, but tonight, all you want to do is crawl into bed without dinner and without completing any of the assignments that are due this week. Hana usually keeps you in check; reminding you of a lab report you have forgotten and keeping you company while you complain about your professors. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when you spot Kageyama Miwa, leaning on a black Lexus, eyes on her phone as she waits outside your lab building. 

Her eyes meet yours as she glances up, and she waves you over. Grabbing the straps of your backpack, you approach her. You aren’t sure what she’s here for, but you’re assuming it’s you. It doesn’t surprise you that she knows which university you attend and apparently, your class schedule. You’ve always known that Kageyama kept an eye on you. 

“Hey, Miwa,” you greet her with a smile.

“Hey, y/n.” She pulls you in for a hug. “We didn’t get a chance to properly talk that night. I almost didn’t recognize you, it’s been forever.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “but I’m pretty sure you aren’t here to catch up.”

She looks slightly surprised and disappointed, and you know that you’re right. “Unfortunately not. Are you busy tonight?”

You shake your head. Homework can wait for tomorrow, and as long as wherever she’s taking you has food, you don’t really care. You’re more curious about why she’s here; what Kageyama could possibly need you for. 

“Good.” She opens the passenger door of the Lexus. “This shouldn’t take too long.”

You get in as she goes around the other side and starts the car. “Why do you need me?”

She pulls away and you recognize that she’s heading towards Shadow. “Security issues. Personal files were leaked. Tobio’ll explain more, but he’s concerned for your safety.”

You snort at that. Kageyama Tobio, concerned. Hilarious. 

You can see Miwa glance at you out of the corner of her eye, but she remains silent as she pulls down a side street adjacent to the club. A garage opens, and she pulls in. You note the multiple luxury sport cars inside as you follow her out of the garage. 

She leads you down a hallway to an elevator, then up to the 30th floor. From what you can tell, the bottom few floors of the building are dedicated to the club, and you can assume that the top floors are for Kageyama’s personal use. You don’t think about the multiple basement buttons and what could possibly be down there. 

A ding signals the end of the ride, and you step out into the foyer of a large penthouse. Miwa leads you past a kitchen and living area, up a sweeping set of stairs. You can’t help but admire the modern apartment; it’s truly beautiful, accented in neutral blacks, grays, and browns. For a second, you’re jealous of Kageyama for being able to live in a place like this, but then you remember what he does and the feeling disappears. 

Miwa knocks on a door at the end of the hall, and it opens a second later. Kageyama is seated at a large mahogany desk, papers spread in front of him and the glow of a laptop reflecting on his face. The night lights of Tokyo can be seen from the floor-to-ceiling windows opposite the door, and you marvel at the view for a few seconds. You note that Kageyama looks exhausted; the file leak must be really bad. Much to your own disappointment, you also note that he still looks as handsome as ever in a dark blue suit. 

He barely looks up when the two of you enter, and Miwa clears her throat. “Bi, she’s here.”

The small giggle that leaves your mouth as a result of Miwa’s continued use of his childhood nickname causes Kageyama to look up at you, carefully assessing you. You know that you look like shit right now, your hair is messy from wearing goggles, and you’re dressed in lab clothes that have stains from previous chemical spills. 

“Come sit.” Kageyama gestures to the seat in front of him, and you dutifully obey. 

“Do you want something to drink, y/n?” Miwa’s still by the door, doing her duties as a host to Kageyama’s guests, but you shake your head.

“I’m alright, thank you.”

She smiles and pauses with her hand on the door handle. “You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner. We haven’t eaten yet, and I know I probably interrupted you heading home to eat.”

You grin, nodding. “I’d appreciate that, thank you.”

She leaves with an incline of her chin, the door shutting softly behind her.

You look Kageyama Tobio in the eyes, trying to decipher his feelings about you being here. You used to be pretty good; he never had to say anything for you to know what he was feeling. Now, you can tell that the years have made him cold and unreadable. 

He sighs and leans back, interlacing his fingers in front of him. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. Two simple words not only for the hassle of dragging you here and interrupting your evening, but for the past four years, starting from the second you walked away from him and continuing through the obvious surveillance he’s done on you without your permission. “You do what you have to do.”

He looks relieved to hear you say that, enough that he grabs a file and rearranges its contents, pulling out a piece of paper to slide across the table to you.

“So, as Miwa told you, we had a breach in security. Personal files were hacked from our database, and that included yours. I’m sure you know why you have a file.” You nod. “Yours contained information such as your personal history with Miwa and me, as well as your whereabouts and what you’ve been doing for the past four years. Addresses, emails, phone numbers, and social media accounts were also leaked.” Kageyama sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Under normal circumstances, I would not be concerned. Everyone involved in my business knows the risks and how to defend themselves. You, on the other hand, didn’t ask for any of this. I’m concerned the group that stole the file will attempt something with you, as the file is clear evidence that you’re important to both Miwa and me.”

Awful news so far, but you saw it coming when Miwa mentioned a security issue. “Do you know who stole the files?” Kageyama nods. “Did they take anything else?”

“No, just personal files. Didn’t touch mine, they know everything about me already. They only took yours and Miwa’s, which is why I’m so concerned.”

You nod along to his words. The hackers wouldn’t take such inconsequential information unless they were looking for someone close to Kageyama to use as collateral. Plus, they would normally take business information, not anything personal. Things in Tokyo’s underworld must be bad. 

“What are you going to do?”

Kageyama gestures to the paper. “I know you’re in school, so I can’t simply lock you up somewhere until it’s safe again.” His small smile and dry humor makes you brighten up a little. You missed that side of him, with the short quips and ever-present sarcasm. “I’m proposing a security detail. Just two of my men, to keep an eye on things. You won’t even know they’re there. Plus, as you know, Ushijima hangs around your roommate quite a bit, and he’s under orders to keep an eye out as well. This,” he taps the paper, “is simply for your own knowledge. I’ve listed all the information that was leaked, as well as what to look out for if you believe you might be in danger. There’s also information on the two I’ll have guarding you, so you aren’t alarmed in case they make their presence known.”

You take the paper and briefly skim it. “Thank you.”

Kageyama’s smile is brief but genuine. “Again, I’m sorry about all of this. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”

You sigh. “It’s alright. Something like this was bound to happen one day anyway.”

It’s true; you’ve always known the risks, even though you haven’t been associated with Kageyama for four years, before his reign over Tokyo. You knew that even when you left, there was still a chance someone would trace back to you.

Kageyama stands up, his hand held out to you. “Want to go eat?”

taglist: @lilith412426​ 

#kenzawrites #houseofmemories #parabellum #kageyama #kageyama tobio #kags x reader #kags #tobio #haikyuu tobio #kegayama tobio #hq tobio #click for HQ #hq x y/n #hq angst #haikyuu mafia #mafia au #hq anime #hq #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyū!! #haikyu x reader #tobio x y/n #haikyuu x y/n #y/n #hq x reader #reader insert

[sanchoj7]

Opposite | Trent Alexander-Arnold 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

——————————————————————————

Saturday night was the last game till international break which meant that they had 2 weeks break. Kiara had to wear her Liverpool shirt while all her old colleagues from United walked passed her smiling and greeting her. She could feel a little tension in the air but didn’t think anything of it. She was packing a few bandages in a bag in case of emergency on the pitch when she heard loud noises coming down the tunnel.

She looked up to find two of her best friends from Manchester, Jesse and Marcus. They approached her with big smiles.“That’s a ugly shirt you’re wearing”Jesse teased pulling her in a hug.“I know right”she agreed pulling Marcus in this time.

“Do we need to kick anyone ass while we’re here or you got everything figured out”Jesse asked looking around.“Stop it, no fighting or arguments while you’re here okay”She sighed. She could feel eyes on her at all times while speaking to them.“Can’t promise you that”Marcus laughed.

They continued catching up for little while since they still had some time before the game. She eyes went to the teams changing room where a few Liverpool players were walking out and she could see Trent and Hendo looking at her while talking to her friends.

Trent face drop when he saw her with the two players and shoulders tensed a little. He was putting on his shoes making her immediately zone out of her conversation towards him. “I should go I have a lot of work to do but good luck”She smiled to her old friends. She was glad to see them walk to the changing room before she slowly made her way to the boy that sat on the bench a few feet away from her.

“Hi”She mumbled taking a seat next to Trent while Hendo stood in front of them.“I have to go talk to the gaffer but I’ll see you guys later”and he was off inside the busy tunnel.

He tied his shoes not a word coming of his mouth as she looked down.“I have so much to tell you but I’m scared you’re just going to be mad at me for saying them…”she paused looking as he turn his head to her. “Let me hear them”he replied licking his lower lip.

“Don’t hurt yourself”She whispered, he sighed and look forward.“Don’t hurt anyone….don’t get into a fight….you know how you can get out there”she said watching as he stood up.“Did Jesse and Marcus have a lecture too”he asked.

She stood up at her turn to be able to hear him around the busy area.“I can’t promise not to get mad or get hurt this the game”he said. He could see that she just didn’t want anything bad to happen to anyone, both teams.

“You’re always here if I get hurt though”He joked making her roll her eyes.“I’d say good luck but I’m sure you got some cheesy comment like I don’t need luck ”she said making him laugh.“Actually I’m was going to say thank you but thank for thinking so highly of us”he smiled making her push him slightly.“I need to go but….good luck”She said before walking away from the smiling boy that stood before her.

The moment she saw Trent’s face at halftime she knew he was mad, the score was 2-1 for United and the tension could be felt around the pitch. A fight was the last thing anyone needed but that’s what happened, Trent tackled Paul making him fall on his left foot. Everyone felt a heavy feeling when Paul didn’t stand up and kept grabbing his foot groaning in pain.

Trent grabbed his arm trying to lift him up but nothing and that action pissed off a lot of people, from where she stood she could see the disappointment in Klopp face.

Soon Martial could be seen walking over to Trent and pushing him backwards but it didn’t stop there, whatever they were saying couldn’t have been pretty because, their face got closer and you could see the anger in their eyes. Hendo grabbed a good grip onto Trent’s jersey and pulled him back trying to calm the tension.

The ref soon walked over lifting up the red card making him roll his eyes and make his way off the pitch. She watched as he walked past her not even bothering to look at her. Paul was brought back to the bench for the medical team to look at his foot and a substitute made his way to the pitch.

The game ended 2-1 with United winning. She found herself in the changing rooms as Klopp gave a speech. Her eyes didn’t leave him, he just sat down by his locker staring at some random spot on the wall. Her thoughts got cut short when Hendo appeared in front of her.“Want an Ice pack for that arm”she asked making him nod his head thanking her. She smiled and got back to packing her stuff but still looked at him from time to time.

“Is Paul alright”Hendo asked making her head snap back up.“Yeah, I talked to him earlier just a bit sore”she replied.“You know he didn’t mean too….”he whispered making her eyes look back to Trent.“I don’t think I have anything to say on that”she shrugged.“He will always be mad at me…I can already feel the dirty looks and mean comments during dinner”She replied making him shake his head.

“You have the right to be mad too”he replied before walking away. She wasn’t a player or a coach so why could she be mad. Why could he be mad at her all the time?

She had to ride with him and Hendo to dinner and all you could hear during the drive was the engine. Soon they got there and she locked herself away from them in a guest room with Rebecca.“And he didn’t talk to you”she asked.“Not a word like I was at fault or something”she sighed. The door to the room opened making the two woman sit up to Jordan and Trent walking in. 

“Babe we need to get Elexa she’s sick”Jordan explained making Beca stand up immediately.“She throw up and the babysitter thinks we should come get her”he said.“Alright can you guys wait here….we’ll be right back”Jordan said making the two younger couple look at each other before nodding their head. Soon it was just the two of them and the awkward silence took over.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and he just stood by the door awkwardly.“Are you mad at me"she asked making him sigh.“I’m not”he replied making her roll her eyes.“You’re full of shit”she mumbled under her breath before standing up to walk away but he stopped her by grabbing her arm.“I’m not mad at you…”he insisted, she looked down to his hand on her arm then to him.

“Why are you acting like this towards me then“she demanded, straight up frustrated.“Because I don’t know….it complicated”he groaned making her roll her eyes again.“You’re so confusing one minute you’re a asshole and the next you’re all sweet”.

She found herself frustrated over his attitude towards her and the way he was acting wasn’t helping.“You won’t understand”he said, his eyes still on her.“No, please tell me because I’m so tired of trying to figure you out and be okay with being use-”She was cut off by his lips on her. She was shook and couldn’t move at first but as soon as his hands found her waist to pull her even closer she let herself move, her lips and her hands going to his hair slowly tugging at his curls.

The moment she really realized what she was doing she pushed him away immediately. Her breathing was hard to control as he stood in front of her a sad expression on his face.“I can’t be normal around you….I feel like an idiot all the time and just act mean so you would get away from me, I want you so bad but every time I see you I remember where you’re from and everything just confuses me and I can’t think straight”he blurted out making her eyes go wide.

“You kissed me”she whispered her hands pressing against her lips as he took a step towards her but she didn’t like that and stepped back. She couldn’t look at him, she was still processing everything that just happened.

“I need to go…I can’t be here”she said grabbing her phone and started making her way out.“Kiara please”he mumbled from behind her but she couldn’t do it and just walked out leaving him by the front door. She walked and walked till she found a bus station and finally sat down and texted Rebecca to tell her that she had a emergency and needed to go.

But as she sat helpless in the cold at the station the only thought that came through her mind was that Trent kissed her.

He told her a lot of things tonight and the only thing that she couldn’t get off her mind was that he wanted her. After acting so cold towards her, he was just hiding a secret and she didn’t see any of it coming. The little comments and action like getting ice cream and biting his lips, he liked her but also hated himself for liking someone that supposed his rival team and he didn’t know how to react to that. He kissed her, the feeling of his lips danced on hers all night till she laid in bed in the dark…..him being the only thing in her mind.

#three lions #football imagine #premier league #liverpool #trent alexander arnold blurbs #trent alexander arnold #Trent #alexanderarnold #england nt #england team #football blurb #football #hendo

[mxpseudonym]

Just Good Business

Pairing: Tommy x Reader 

Reader Gender Expression: She/Her pronouns, feminine clothing descriptions

Summary: You are forced to marry Tommy Shelby, but that doesn’t mean you have to make things easy for him. 

Length: 1671 words (allegedly)

Warnings: Mentions of forced marriage. Otherwise Bad bitch, chaotic energy and some justified (non violent) rage. 

A/N: This was very fun to write! 

Also there’s going to be a NSFW part II because the tension? The sheer sexual tension?? Yeah, it needs to happen. 

Part II

--

Being a bit impossible to pin down is what you're known for, and you liked that. It was your grandmother who taught you how to be difficult. 

When they try to smooth your edges, rip the sandpaper. 

You didn't have a natural place in polite society, your family knew this. But your father wasn't going to let you into the family business, either. So he took your brother, your imbecile of a brother, and let him lead instead. Two years later, you're sitting at a dinner table in a fancy restaurant with your parents, your brother who can't look you in the eye, and two gangsters from Birmingham. You could tell they were gangsters because they smelled like new money, and had guns under their blazers. One was an older woman Polly Shelby, and the other was her nephew, Thomas Shelby. 

You thought it was any other business meeting, but your brother was fidgeting the way he did when you were younger, and he stole your necklace and broke it but didn't want to tell you. He was hiding something big. Luckily for him and unluckily for you, it quickly became abundantly clear. 

"Let's get right to it, we'll settle the debt, put in an accountant who will manage to unfuck you, and take 45% of the resulting profit," Tommy Shelby laid the cards on the table. Your face contorted in confusion. What debt? 

"Alright, it's done," your father said, a quiver in his voice along with relief. 

"What? That's a terrible bargain," you scoffed. The way your mother turned away, her eyes tearing up, and your brother practically quivering beside you. You met the eyes of Polly Shelby, and something about them told you to brace yourself. 

"Is your daughter still upholding the marriage to our dear Thomas?" Polly asked. For a moment, you thought you blacked out. For a moment, you thought you'd forgotten you had a sister. For a moment, you assumed it wasn't the 1920's but the 17-fucking-40's where you may have come with some livestock as well. 

"So this is it, huh? This is why you let me go to Paris with my friends last week, Mum? And why Dad said he'd buy me a car? And why Graham won't stop fucking fidgeting?" You asked, looking to your brother who just grimaced at you. There was no out, and you knew it. 

"Don't make a scene, y/n," your father told you, tired already as if he'd put up some great fight. 

"Well? Are we on?" Polly got us back on track. "I'll need to hear it from her." You looked down at your handbag until you saw the emerald color and not a blinding red.

"You'll take 10% of the resulting profits," you finally said. If you were getting given away, it was going to be at least a good deal. 

"40," the deep, Brummie voice of Thomas Shelby came to the party. Your eyes flicked up to meet his icy blue ones. 

"12."

"35."

"15."

"33%, and you can go to Paris as much as you'd like," he said his final offer with a smirk. If you weren't so fueled by anger, you'd appreciate it.

"18%, I go to Paris as much as I want, and I won't make your life a living hell. Maybe I'll even kiss you goodbye in the morning, my love," you said in the most charming voice you could muster, which wasn't very. He'd never tell you that's when he knew he liked you, but he didn't have to. You landed on an even 25%. You could go to Paris, he'd get his morning goodbye kiss and some peace from time to time, and you'd get a car that was better than anything your father had planned. You shook on it yourself. 

"Welcome to the Shelby's," Polly said when she grasped your hand. You grabbed your bag and turned to Tommy.

"If the car's not a Hispano-Suiza, 2% of that profit comes directly to me," you warned him before walking away.

You should've fucking known that it would be at least partially an adventure. At first, you were mad. You allowed yourself to be easily swayed in the wedding planning, saying yes to the most frivolous things.

"500 bloody pounds for a dress you'll wear once?!" Tommy all but shouted and threw down the receipt on the desk of his office. You sat unnerved in the seat in front of him.

"Once, on the most important day of my life," you said, giving a brief pout and nothing else. Tommy rubbed his chin as he went to refill his glass of whiskey.

"Stubborn, reckless, outlandish even. Sure, you're all of those things. But spoiled? That's a surprise," he said, almost disappointed. You rolled your eyes at his little act. 

"Come off it, Shelby. I have very little in this world, least of all a family I can trust. Everything I do have is about to belong to you because I'm a woman with nothing but familial debt. So don't stand there and lecture me about the rights and wrongs of acting out, Thomas. You and my father only listen to money." You stood and were halfway to the door when Tommy blocked your way. 

"You've threatened to run away if you had to live with your parents, so we've put you in a grand apartment in London. You have your parties there with all your friends. You spend all the money you'd like and more. When will it end?" He asked. You wondered if he actually cared about the stability of your coping mechanisms, or about you. His hand came up to brush your waist. It was all you needed to come back to your senses.  You took a breath and looked up at him.

"Until I'm satisfied," You decided. 

Polly was something between annoyed and amused at you. You were loud, as subtle as a cannon, and possibly more stubborn than her nephew. There wasn't a week that went by where Tommy wasn't talking about something you'd done. 

"Tommy, have you tried going along with something she says?" Polly suggested one day when you'd called not finding a proper wedding venue an "emergency." Tommy leaned back in thought, then picked up the phone. Perhaps his aunt was right... like usual.

"If this is kidnap, it's very ironic," you said as you stumbled along the gravel. Your ridiculous fiancé had taken you to an undisclosed location. Now, the only thing guiding you was Tommy, whose hand was over your eyes. 

"It's not a kidnapping. On the contrary, I've come to take you home," Tommy said before his hand lifted. You blinked the blur away to see a large house. Well, let's call a spade a spade. It was a mansion if you'd ever seen one. 

"Holy hell," you breathed.

"This is Arrow House, Ms. y/l/n. It's got everything you could need and hopefully what you want. Here's a map." He pulled a thick piece of paper from his coat pocket. "Let me know if I've missed anything."

Crying wasn't in your repertoire. Even the events of the past few months hadn't done you in. But, you made an exception and allowed a few to leak while you looked around. You could feel your betrothed’s eyes watching you take it all in, but it didn't matter when the home was breathtaking. When you came back to the foyer, you couldn't help but tweak an eyebrow at Tommy. 

"Have you got a crush on me, Shelby?" You asked, or accused rather. He just chuckled and grabbed your hand, leading you towards the door.

"Let's go see the stables."

The wedding was grander than was even sensible. Tommy didn't know how you forged the guest list or who most of these people were, but you told him if he helped you hang drapes, you'd explain your itemized list. Now that was a sight to see. You could only stand it for a bit and did what you usually did at parties. You found quiet place on a balcony overlooking the wedding reception turned memorable party that spilled into the large venue's gardens. 

"Well, we've done it, Mrs. Shelby," Tommy said, walking up from behind you with two champagne glasses. You took one with a broad smile. 

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. I'd have to agree."

"Are you having a good time?"

"Sure, are you? This is your wedding gift," you said, motioning to the crowds.

"And how is that?" He looked over the railing with you. You started pointing people out.

"Over there is the Commissioner and his wife's sister. London police chief over there with his mistress. Lady Catherine Wilcox, one of the most influential socialites in the country, is by the fountain. She's been eyeing Arthur all night too. And so on." You nodded triumphantly. "At those parties I was having in London, I only said good things about you, which is annoying to admit but here we are. Thomas Shelby, your wedding is your introduction to the upper echelon society." He turned and leaned against the railing, and you followed his lead. 

"I guess I owe you a thank you," he said. 

"I’d say so. You’re on several guest lists and incredibly important customer lists now.” You cupped your ear and leaned closer. “Let's hear it.”

"Thank you, y/n." He rolled his eyes, then looked at you with a sigh. "Are you happy, then?" He asked.

"Better, I'm satisfied."

With a clink of your glasses, your relationship could begin. And when Tommy leaned in to kiss you, you didn't pull away. 

"This seems like a crush," were your first words when you parted.

"You're the one who made us late to the ceremony," he pointed out.

"No one even noticed."

"I think they did," he begged to differ. 

"You weren't supposed to come to find me before the wedding. It's bad luck," you tsked Tommy, taking another sip of the bubbling drink, which did nothing to help the heat creeping up your neck. 

"Just had to make sure you didn't run off." He shrugged but moved closer to whisper in your ear. "And I believe, Mrs. Shelby, the dress wasn't even on yet."

"Don't get your hopes up, it meant nothing." You waved it away, not convinced or convincing. Tommy nodded then kissed you again. 

"Right, right. It's just good business." 

--

Tommy Tag List: @soleil-dor

#tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #thomas shelby fic

[jackson--t]

The last one turns off the light

Summary: On the day of Ragnar's funeral, the family reunites - but even before that, chaos begins. When the Lothbroks brothers get together, the world turns upside down - and not only funny things will come out.

Words: ~ 3.7 k.

Pairings/tags: please look up at AO3, too much for here. We have one crossover pairing, which will be Ubbe x Eggsy (Kingsman). And obviously, Heahmund x Ivar. 🤣

This story is a comforter for me and hopefully entertaining for you. 🖤 Other updates follow this week, since I had a light down. xD

If you want to be tagged in this one, tell me please. 🥰 I always feel so uncormfortable tagging people and thinking they don't like all of my weird stuff, lovely @youbloodymadgenius 🤣❤.

Chapter 1: Of canapès and barking dogs.

Bjorn, Torvi & Sigurd

 It was not a nice day, Bjorn had known that from the beginning. Going to funerals was never easy - but holding his father's at his mother-in-law's house was. He had always believed that Ragnar would grow much older - and that the day he died would be peaceful.

But the house of Aslaug had been strangely restless for days. Sigurd had already arrived and had taken possession of the guest room next to Torvi and Bjorn's - his other brothers would soon follow. Bjorn folded the note in his hand lightly and sighed softly. He had read through the words a thousand times, and yet he kept getting stuck.

"I don't know why Aslaug wants me to give the speech," he said softly to Torvi, and she smiled slightly. Her hands softly stroked Bjorn's back, and her voice was like velvet against his ear.

"Because you're the oldest, that's why."

"Everyone will think that Ivar will hold it. After all, he's the famous author."

"Don't worry about that, you know people love you."

Bjorn creased the notes in his hand a little and turned his gaze again to the scrawled words. "My father was a great man. He was born in Kattegat in 1968. Kattegat is known for fishing and... God Torvi, it sounds like a school lecture. Ivar should do it."

"Be brave, Bjorn.", Torvi muttered to him, when suddenly the door opened.

"Are there, the guys with the coffin. With Dad." Sigurd said, who was still talking through the door before he could even open it with a rumble. Bjorn clicked his tongue.

"Still haven't learned to knock, huh?" he hissed, and Sigurd rolled his eyes.

"I don't care, now get down here. Mom's going to freak out - you know how sensitive she is."

"Then she shouldn't have done the funeral here in her house."

"I'll say three words to that: lazy old woman."

"Sigurd!"

Sigurd laughed lightly, and nodded to Bjorn, who slowly rose from the bed and placed his notes on the nightstand. "Come, Torvi."

It was not an easy step that Bjorn took down the stairs, together with Sigurd and Torvi. The last time he had seen his father alive, everything had been fine: he had sat in front of the TV in the evening and watched a game with Bjorn. It had been quiet hours, and the last touch Bjorn actively remembered was the light feeling of Ragnar's fingers on his forearm when he had told him a good joke. Ragnar had laughed so loudly that there had been tears in his eyes - it had been a lovely evening.

Bjorn had long wondered if those last moments were enough, enough to be last words. He should perhaps have said an "I love you," something that expressed his deep admiration for this man. But one never knew when those were the last words - and when Bjorn saw the heavy oak coffin standing in the living room, along with the funeral home staff, his heart felt heavy. It was like lead, as if all the weights were pulling down the otherwise strong and heavy body. But he remained strong, even when he saw how Sigurd became slightly pale around the nose.

Nevertheless, with a quiet clearing of his throat and a respectful nod to the staff, he stood in front of the coffin and opened it with a slight, barely audible movement.

An iron silence spread, and one could almost feel the oppressive heaviness as Björn stared into the coffin. The funeral home staff lowered their heads in reverence as Bjorn suddenly said dryly, "That's not my father."

The silence around the room changed as the employees looked first at each other, and then at Bjorn, who still kept his gaze fixed on the coffin.

One of the staff came around and looked at the dead man, then opened his mouth.

"Oh God, that's really the wrong one. Guys, we put the wrong one in the coffin. We're terribly sorry, Mister Lothbrok - we'll be right back."

Torvi and Bjorn watched the men as they took the coffin back outside; then Bjorn exhaled deeply.

Sigurd in the corner behind them let out a soft chuckle.

"Well, if this is how the funeral is going to start, it's going to be cheerful. A bad omen."

"Don't say that!" Bjorn hissed, and Sigurd just snarled.

"It already started when Ivar said he was bringing his weird drug friend."

"He's a pharmacist, you monkey."

"Same thing, he sells drugs to old people. Maybe he can mix some in the punch."

“Sigurd!"

"What?"

"A little more respect." Torvi said annoyed, while Bjorn exhaled deeply.

"My respect just sailed out with the wrong daddy."

"Oh man. Please let this day go by quickly and without a hitch," Bjorn muttered, trying not to think about the mess that had ensued last Christmas when Ivar and Sigurd had fought over dessert and had destroyed one window.

"The day is guaranteed to be a disaster. Just think who's all coming together here today. They don't say the Lothbroks are all crazy for nothing. And if Ivar says a stupid thing about Martha, I'll punch him in the face!" Sigurd snarled; he took one of the canapés, but got lightly smacked on the fingers by Aslaug, who had joined in quietly and silently.

"Don't!"

"I'm hungry, though."

"You wait until everyone gets here!" Aslaug hissed; one could tell she wasn't feeling well. Torvi silently accompanied her to the kitchen again, while Bjorn sat down next to Sigurd's armchair with a snort.

"I'm so going to fail. Why isn't Ivar giving the speech?" he muttered; he also took a canapé, as did Sigurd, who by now had rested his legs on the little table next to him.

"It doesn't matter, no one will listen anyway. Everyone will blubber. Besides, he's bringing his friend, that fucking Brit. He won't talk in front of him, I bet you."

"All right, let him. They've been together for a long time."

"Yeah, while Ubbe will end up an old maid."

"You too."

The brothers looked at each other, then they both laughed. And although it was not a fitting day for laughter, they both couldn't help it. They were only interrupted when Aslaug came storming out of the kitchen and slapped them both on the knuckles for eating too many of the canapés.

 

§-----§-----§

 

Ubbe, Hvitserk, Ivar, Heahmund & Eggsy

 "Which house was it again?" Ubbe asked, drawing his eyebrows together; Ivar yawned slightly as he looked out the window at the passing houses. He already knew the area by heart, had already spent so many hours driving to and from Heahmund's house - and not just because of Heahmund. Heahmund's little brother Eggsy was Ivar's age, and the two had been best friends for a long time. It had been rather inappropriate when Ivar had confessed to him one day that he fancied his older brother - but after Eggsy had punched him in the face for it during a visit to a club, to be fair, they had been best friends again.

"That one up front. You know that house, you drove me here so many times!" Ivar snarled; Ubbe just snorted softly.

"Yeah, it was dark back then, and you were drunk."

"Alcohol is my muse. And a naked Heahmund."

"No, Ivar. Please don't. At least today. He's a pharmacist, isn't he?"

Ivar rolled his eyes slightly and exhaled in annoyance, then nodded slightly. He ran a hand through his hair while his gaze was fixed on his older brother.

"Yeah, you know that too," he grumbled, and Ubbe shrugged.

"Do you think he can take a look at my wrist? There's all this discoloration on it."

"Ubbe, please. He's a pharmacist, not a doctor," Hvitserk interjected, who was sitting in the back seat.

Ivar knew that his older brother was very upset inside. Ivar felt it the same way - when he had learned of Ragnar's death, a part of his world had collapsed. It had taken him a long time to come to terms - a long time, and a handful of Heahmund's best pills. That had helped. When Ivar saw the slightly clouded look on Hvitserk's face in the rearview mirror, he bit his lower lip lightly.

"But he deals with pills, he knows what I can take!" Ubbe replied irritably.

"Eggsy deals, Heahmund thinks it sucks," Ivar said, amused, turning his gaze back outside.

"Why can they even do that? Eggsy looks like the last spade."

"Ay!"

"Ain't that the truth."

"Maybe Heahmund will have some pills for you in a minute, Hvitty. You look really pale," Ivar said quietly; his bright eyes found Hvitserk's, and he clearly saw his brother forcing a smile.

"I just have a stomachache, after all, and a little dizziness. I'll be fine."

"Here we are," Ubbe said, and the three brothers got out of the car.

The house was in a somewhat quieter corner of the town and was a veritable palace; it had been expensive, for Heahmund and Eggsy's parents were both doctors. Heahmund had confessed to Ivar once long ago that he knew he was a disappointment to them as an apothecary - but Ivar had always encouraged him. Heahmund loved working with chemicals, and the fact that he had fallen in love with him, well - Ivar clearly owed a bit of that to his love of Eggsy's forbidden tablets. Ivar remembered it clearly - an Iggy Pop concert, drunk to the point of no return, and he had dared to kiss Heahmund for the first time.

He remembered hot fingers on his body, wet and sweaty bodies pressing against each other, loud and booming music in his ears, vibrating on his skin.

But that quickly disappeared as Ubbe pressed the button on the bell and waited with his two brothers. It took a moment, but then a grinning Eggsy opened the door.

"Holla, we don't actually buy anything at the door," he said, and Ivar laughed. He chimed in with Eggsy and went into the house, with Ubbe and Hvitserk following. For a moment Eggsy and Ubbe looked at each other, then Ubbe said, "Do you have anything for Hvitty's stomachache?"

"Hmm. I don't know... I'll go see. Hold on. Oh, Ivar - Heahmund's in the shower, he'll be right there in a minute," Eggsy replied, winking at Ivar, who again bit his lip lightly before catching Ubbe's shocked look.

"Ivar, I dare you. You're wearing your fancy suit, Dad gave you that one at the time for your first book launch. If it gets wet-" Ubbe muttered, and Ivar snorted.

"What, it's just water!"

"I think Ubbe once again couldn't get it into his mouth that he means the cum stains that are on your suit afterwards when Heahmund has... wiped himself on your lips," Hvitserk threw into the round and was rewarded by a punch in the neck from Ubbe and a hearty laugh from Ivar.

"I'll wash your filthy mouth out in a minute... Ah, look. Here's some paracetamol, you can take it, can't you?" Ubbe said, holding up a brown little box with the words written all over it in a very slightly scuffed way. Ivar raised his eyebrows as Ubbe tossed the little tin to Hvitserk.

"Hmm, okay... I'll take these without water, not that my suit will get "wet" yet," Hvitserk muttered, and Ivar nudged him lightly.

"Stop it now, I'm shitting myself laughing. But I'm really going to see where Heahmund is," he said, and went up the stairs to the upper floors. Hvitserk swallowed his pills while Ubbe wandered lightly up and down the hallway, looking at the photos on the wall.

It had taken Ubbe a long time to accept Heahmund and Ivar's relationship. Heahmund was an educated and kind man, but Ubbe thought him far too old for Ivar. He knew his little brother and his moods, and also his volatility. It was a real miracle that the relationship had lasted two years by now - which was surely due to Ubbe always keeping an eye on Ivar. Even Ragnar had taken a while to get along with Heahmund. Not as a mate, not as a man - but as the boyfriend at Ivar's side. He had always seen his son in the arms of pretty women, but never in the arms of another man who could almost be his father himself.

Ubbe's eyes wandered over the many photos on the wall and lingered on a family photo. It was visible that they were a well-heeled, wealthy family - only Eggsy stood out, as always. The boy was just like them with Ivar, the nestling, the baby - and the spawn of hell. Even though Ubbe really liked Eggsy's grin, and his blunt, British humor.

"What do you think it's going to be like today? Wow, are the walls yellow here.", Hvitserk said quietly; Ubbe directed his gaze to the beige wall, but only raised his eyebrows. It was nothing new that Hvitserk had lousy taste when it came to color naming.

"Well... it's dad. I'm sure it won't be pretty. I can't wait to see how Bjorn's speech turns out."

"Why isn't Ivar holding it?" Hvitserk said; as the two looked at each other, Hvitserk lightly stroked the wall with his fingers. Ubbe smiled briefly; he put a hand on Hvitserk's shoulder and sighed.

"I don't know. It doesn't matter either, he's the oldest, and he'll do fine. It was mother's wish. And Dad would have loved it. We'll all be together again," he said quietly, and Hvitserk nodded silently.

He was about to say something when Eggsy came down the stairs. He tossed a small can to Ubbe and winked. "Here, paracetamol."

"It's all good Eggs, we've already had some. It was okay, right? There were some lying here, we really only took two."

Eggsy's grin disappeared from his face; he was about to say something when Ivar and Heahmund came down the stairs.

"Hello, you two!" Heahmund said; he was smiling, but he placed his hand lightly comfortingly on Ubbe's shoulder, who smiled only slightly. "I'm really very sorry."

"It's okay. It's part of life, isn't it?" Ubbe replied; he waited until Heahmund removed his hand, and then cleared his throat, not without another quick glance at the slightly distraught Eggsy.

"I'll go start the car. Eggsy, are you going to ride with us?"

"Who... me? Nah, I'll... um... drive myself later, I've got stuff to do," he said, forcing a soft smile.

When Ubbe was out the door and the others were about to follow, Eggsy stood in front of the door. He pushed it shut lightly and looked at the three, who eyed him in slight confusion.

"Eggs, what are you doing? Make room.", Ivar snarled and grabbed Eggsy by the shoulder, but the latter just pushed him away slightly.

"Honestly - Hvit - how many of those pills did you take?" he said harshly, and Hvitserk snorted.

"Two, why? And you guys should repaint your house, that yellow paint really stings in the eyes."

"FUCK." Eggsy said, and Heahmund grabbed him by the shoulder.

"What do you mean with fuck, Eggsy? Do you have like... no. Don't tell me you..."

"Yeah… I did."

"What's wrong?" Ivar interjected, whose gaze had so far only wandered back and forth between the two.

"The pills.” Eggsy murmured, holding up the brown tin.

"Paracetamol, it says. Are you stupid?" Hvitserk said, and Eggsy opened his mouth.

"That's really a bit inappropriate now, huh... These aren't paras."

A rough hand reached into Eggsy's shirt, and Heahmund pushed his younger brother hard back against the door. "What do you mean Eggsy?!"

"I was... experimenting, it was supposed to be for tonight, I... I named it xylitol x10."

"What."

"What?"

"Is that why the walls are so fucking yellow?!" Hvitserk shouted, trying to jump towards Eggsy, but Ivar held him back.

"I'm sorry, but you don't just eat any fucking pills lying around somewhere either -"

"It had paracetamol on it, you asshole!!!"

"Yeah, you think I'd write party drug on it?"

"STOP!" Heahmund yelled between them, holding the boys apart; he could feel exactly how tense Hvitserk and Ivar were breathing.

"What's in it, Eggsy?" Heahmund asked, and all eyes turned to the young Englishman. Eggsy fussed, running a hand down the back of his neck, then muttering lightly.

"Well, this and that...I didn't...quite calculate that."

"Hallucinogens?" Heahmund grumbled; he still had his brother in stitches, and Eggsy nodded slightly.

"Everything. Stimulants, sleeping pills, painkillers. It's supposed to get you high on a new level."

It took a moment before Hvitserk let out a slight cry of panic and went for Eggsy's throat; Ivar interposed himself but gave Eggsy a deadly look.

"How long does it last?" he asked frantically, and Eggsy opened his lips slightly. It took him a moment before he quietly replied, "Twelve hours?"

Hvitserk was about to go after Eggsy again, but this time Heahmund joined in.

"THAT MEANS I'M GOING COMPLETELY HIGH AND FUCKED UP ON MY FATHER'S FUNERAL?" Hvitserk shouted, and Eggsy shrugged slightly.

"That... yeah, something like that. But it won't be so bad, because… you just won't notice anything."

"Eggsy, this is going to be trouble. Shit, what do we do now? Ubbe doesn't have a clue, does he?"

Ivar bit his lower lip lightly, still looking at his best friend. He knew that Eggsy had never done this on purpose, guaranteed, and that he had simply wanted to resell the pills. They had done it so many times, together, to really kick ass at festivals - if Ragnar or Ubbe had ever known that, and Heahmund - oh, Ivar was sure he would end up in hell. But he stuck by Eggsy, who by now was really pale around the nose.

"We'll work it out. We can say he's allergic to the pills because they were... expired."

"Ivar, that's... Ubbe will never believe that. He himself is so..."

"We have no choice."

Hvitserk pressed his head against Ivar's shoulder and let out a low snort; his hands clawed tightly into the suit of Ivar's shoulder, and Ivar patted his head lightly.

"Well, at least... the funeral won't be so bad for you then." he said, catching an indignant look from Heahmund, which he only returned with a shrug.

"We have no choice, like I said."

A honk sounded outside, and all four flinched violently; Hvitserk raised his eyes, already looking slightly dreamy.

"Fuck... Eggsy, get changed and join us as soon as you can. It's best if Hvitserk drinks a lot of water to get that stuff out. God, Eggsy...you must be from the mailman.", Heahmund said with a slight frown.

"Shut up, it wasn't like I wanted this!"

"It's okay now." Ivar said, taking Hvitserk's forearm in his hand; he guided his brother easily while Eggsy opened the front door.

"You just have to pretend everything's okay long enough. So Ubbe won't notice anything, because he'll kill Eggsy, me and Heahmund then. And with his kind, himself, too," Ivar added; he held Hvitserk tightly as he pulled slightly towards the flowerbed.

"The flowers smell like butter."

"Sure, everybody knows that," Ivar said, turning in a panic to Eggsy, who stood like a little pale something in the front doorway, watching the three of them get into Ubbe's car.

He raised his arm ever so slightly and with compressed lips nodded to Ubbe, who waved at him. Only when the car turned the corner slightly did he flee back into the house in a panic.

The first few miles through the city in the car were silent; until Ubbe cleared his throat and looked at the slightly cramped Heahmund and Ivar in the back seat through the mirror.

"Everything’s good? What else did you do inside?" he asked, and Ivar and Heahmund looked at each other slightly. Then Ivar put on a warm smile.

"I was arguing with Eggs about what he should wear. He refuses to wear a suit."

"Haha yeah, that’s my little... cutie... brother.", Heahmund laughed, and got a firm jab from Ivar in the ribcage for it - which Ubbe luckily didn't see because he had to brake hard. An elderly couple walked across the intersection, and Hvitserk suddenly looked around in confusion.

"Wasn't there a dog in here just now?" Hvitserk said, mouth agape; Ubbe at the steering wheel drew his eyebrows together, while Ivar and Heahmund exchanged brief glances in the back seat.

"What?" Ubbe asked, snorting in amusement, while Ivar lightly bit his lower lip. Hvitserk's gaze turned towards Ubbe in confusion, and he stared at his older brother slightly absently.

"There was a dog barking in here just now, wasn't there?"

"Hvitty what the... did you take dr...?" Ubbe began, but Ivar interrupted him frantically, putting his hand on Ubbe's shoulder from behind.

"Aren't we almost there?" he said with pointed curiosity, and Ubbe turned his gaze skeptically to the road. "Yes, in a minute," he said, giving Ivar a puzzled look through the rearview mirror. But his youngest brother only smiled an exaggeratedly broad and hearty smile, while Hvitserk pressed his head against the window, smiling slightly.

"You guys are acting weird. But today it’s okay. After all, today is an important day, and it's finally another day when the whole family gets to be together loving each other. If only Dad could see us like this," Ubbe said quietly, albeit with a soft, crooked smile at the corner of his mouth.

If only dad could see us.

Ivar's hands clenched slightly, and he exhaled softly. His brother was doped up on whatever drugs Eggsy had made up makeshift from his pharmacy studies. Bjorn would make a beastly speech, Ivar knew, even though it hurt his heart to think of his oldest brother that way. Sigurd and he would quarrel, and even that day hold grudges against each other. Ivar would show up at his father's funeral with his boyfriend, whom not many knew yet. Aunt Helga would have a heart attack. Ubbe would have a crisis as soon as he realized that Hvitserk hadn't just taken paracetamol. Oh yes, if only dad could see us.

But it was Heahmund's warm hands that closed around his and held him tightly; very tightly, so that Ivar immediately felt safe and comfortable. He glanced at his partner, and Heahmund smiled encouragingly at him. At least he was there - because with him, Ivar felt complete.

Even if his brother in the passenger seat wore a slight thread of drool in the corner of his mouth and was guaranteed to be fantasizing about yellow walls and butter-smelling flowers, and imaginary dogs barking in the car.

#vikings #modern au #heahmund x ivar #eggsy unwin #ivar the boneless #heavar #hvitserk lothbrok #family #crossover fanfiction #fanfiction

[lost-in-the-80s]

Bloodletting Part III - Y/N

Words: 2,245k.

Summary: Guns n Roses are already known for being dangerous, but how dangerous would they be if they were vampires? Would it be a wiseful decision to fall for one of them?

A/N: This part is more focused on explaining the Vampire world and introducing Y/N. 

Part II | Bloodletting Masterlist | Playlist

2020 - New York - 02:40 am

Duff walked through the dark streets of the city, the cold wind hitting his face as his feet touched the floor with an almost inaudible sound. He had just closed his bar, leaving a ton of glasses and utensils to be cleaned the next day.

It was autumn, and he took the opportunity to go walking towards the bar, ironically called Bloodletting, which now meant he’d have to walk back home, or more precisely, Izzy’s home. He didn’t mind walking though, being a vampire had its advantages, and not getting tired was one of them.

He stopped abruptly when a familiar smell got his nostrils, vampire smell, or more specifically, the lack of any smell accompanied by the slowly fading away human scent, mixed with a small hint of embalmed corpse. 

His head snapped towards the smell, curiosity taking a hold of him. It was someone new, he knew it because he was familiar with the scent of every vampire who lived in the city.

Over the years he learned how to identify each one of them based on the smell of things that constantly stayed around them. Like the smell of Slash’s snake, or the smell of cigarettes in Izzy’s clothes. And he was sure, this vampire, whoever it was, was someone new. 

Turning left he walked down a couple of streets until he found a dark alley, the smell of blood was strong and fresh, and coming closer, his eyes adjusted to the light, allowing him to see you on top of a man, his body laying on the ground.

Focusing on his hearing Duff realized that the man was still alive, and judging by the expensive clock on his wrist, he knew that you had made a huge mistake in choosing your prey.

“That wasn’t very smart of you.” He said, entering the alley.

You turned towards him and he realized that you were around his age. Your hair was all messed up and you were wearing party clothes. There was blood dripping from your lips and your pupils were dilated.

You ran towards Duff, pushing him against the wall, your mouth moving towards his neck as you got on your tiptoes. But Duff was older, which allowed him to be stronger than you. One of his hands grabbed your neck, pulling you away from him and inverting your positions, making you hit your back hard against the wall.

“Yep, you’re definitely not smart!”

Your eyes widened in shock.

“I’m gonna let you go, ok?” He said after a few seconds.

You nodded slowly, and so he removed his hand from your neck, taking one step back.

“You shouldn’t have chosen him.” Duff said, starting to walk towards the man, who by now was dead.

“Why?” You finally spoke.

“See this watch?” He removed the accessory, throwing it towards you. “Costs 30 thousand dollars.”

Duff searched for personal belongings in the man's pockets, throwing his wallet and his car keys towards you. Standing up, he threw the body over his shoulder, walking a few steps towards a dumpster and throwing the body inside of it. 

“Take the money and the credit cards from inside of it and then throw the wallet in the dumpster too.” He said, taking a pocket knife out of his leather jacket.

“Why?” 

He rolled his eyes. Is that all you know how to say? He thought.

“We need to make it look like it was a robbery.” He answered, stabbing the man’s neck where two small holes used to be. 

You did as he said, running weirdly with only one shoe on towards the dumpster and throwing the wallet there. You turned around realizing that Duff was nowhere to be seen.

“Stranger?” You shouted.

“Here.” 

You followed his voice, finding him leaning against a black Porsche. “You don’t need to yell you know.” 

He took a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it up. “Here!” He threw the car’s keys towards you. 

“Find a junkyard and use that money to pay for someone to destroy the car.” 

You looked at him dumbfounded as he started walking away.

“Wait!” 

He stopped, turning around.

“I- I…” You tried to think of what to say, but nothing came out of your mouth.

Duff eyed you for a while, before realizing what was going on. “When did you wake up?”

“This- today... a few hours ago.” You looked so lost.

“Shit.” He mumbled. “It’s normal, most of us don’t remember anything personal after the transition, it can take you some days to remember everything.”

“Transition?”

“You weren’t like this before, honey.” 

You frowned.

“You used to be a human, like him.” He pointed towards the alley. “Now you’re a vampire, like me.” 

“Why?”

“Because someone wanted you to.”

“Who?”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t fucking know! But clearly wasn't decent enough to raise you.” 

“What- What do I do?”

“There’s nothing you can do, this is your life now.”

You stared at him as he heard your heart racing and could see the tears that started to form in your eyes. 

“Do you remember something? Anything?... Your name, maybe?”

You nodded slowly. “It’s Y/N.”

Duff threw away his cigarette, before opening the driver’s door of the car. 

“Come on, Y/N, let’s get rid of this car, and then I’ll find somewhere for you to stay.” 

---

The sun was rising on the horizon when Duff and Y/N entered the house, everyone showing up as soon as they smelled your scent, curious about the new guest.

“Brought some company, Duff?” Axl asked, walking down the stairs, stopping in front of you and picking up your hand, taking it to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss on it. “All yours or will you share with us?” A smirk appearing on his face.

Duff said nothing, putting his coat on the hanger and walking towards the library, finding Izzy reading by the window. 

“It's a new-born, doesn’t remember anything, I think it’s better if you give the lecture.”

Izzy lifted his eyes from his book, thinking for a second before closing it and exiting the room with Duff on his track. 

“Y/N, these are Axl and Izzy, Steven is the guy looking at you through the backyard windows and Slash is the one up there.” He pointed towards each one of them, stopping at Slash who was on the second floor, looking at them.

You looked to your side quickly, a little startled by Steven’s presence, but soon you saw curiosity in his eyes and his figure waving at you, and you realized he wasn’t creepy. You slowly waved back at him, before having your attention caught by Duff again.

“Izzy is gonna explain to you some things, since he’s older than me.”

Izzy motioned for you to follow him, walking further into the house.

You looked at Duff hesitantly, but he nodded, reassuring you, making you walk behind the brunette until you were inside a fancy office, filled with wooden shelves and expensive furniture. 

Izzy sat behind the desk, making a gesture for you to sit in front of him.

You eyed each other for a few seconds, in an awkward way before Izzy spoke up.

“What is it that you’re curious about?” 

You took a moment to reply as his accent hit your ears. "I don't know…"

"You don't know?" He raised one eyebrow.

“What am I?”

“You’re a vampire.”

“Yeah, but Duff said that I wasn’t- he said I was a human before.”

“All of us were, until we transitioned.”

“Transitioned?”

“It’s what we call it. A vampire transformed you.” 

“How does it happen?”

He leaned against his chair, taking a long breath before replying. “They give you their blood, which is poisonous to a human, as soon as it touches your stomach, you die. After a few hours you wake up, and you’re no longer a human.”

“Why me?”

“I don’t know, the only one who can answer that, is who transformed you.”

There was a pause before you spoke up again.

"Why can I remember random things, but not my birthday?"

He shrugged. "No-one knows, it's just how it is."

You looked at one of the walls, observing a big old map on it, the once white paper was now in a dark shade of beige. “So it is like in those movies?”

“Pretty much.”

“Will I shine in the sun?”

He chuckled lowly, “No. You’ll most probably burn.”

You looked back at him, widening your eyes. “Like, catching on fire?”

“No," He chuckled again. "More like going to the beach on a very sunny day without sunscreen. Of course, if you stay underneath it for too long your skin will start to look like barbecue and it won't be a pleasant feeling… but, on a cloudy day, sunscreen and hats do the job for you.”

“What about sunny days?”

“Forget about those. We usually isolate during summer, just going out during the nights.”

“So I- I really am a monster?”

“A monster, a god, a beast… there are many definitions, depending on the culture, but we usually go by vampires.”

You took in a long breath. “So my heart stopped beating?” You touched your chest.

“Of course not, nothing survives without a beating heart." He smiled, trying not to laugh again. "It's just beating slower… if we stay silent and you pay attention, you'll hear it”

“That- that’s a lot of information.” You gulped.

“Yeah, but it’s better for you to learn it in the beginning.”

He crossed his own fingers, eyeing you.

“Why do we drink blood?”

“Why do cows eat grass? Why does a wolf eat the sheep?... It's the food chain ... we are predators." 

You looked at his Persian rug for a while before coming up with another question.

“Do we still eat normal food?"

“We don’t actually need food anymore, but food gives your body energy and we can make good use of that.”

“So you guys still eat?”

“Sometimes… the same goes for drinking anything.”

“We don’t need water anymore?”

“Technically, no. But if you spend too much time without drinking it you’ll look like a raisin.” He smiled faintly.

She nodded slowly. “Garlic?”

“That’s bullshit, you can eat garlic if you want.”

“Crosses?”

“Another lie. Some of us are still religious, so no, crosses don’t do anything to us.”

“Who was the first?”

“No one knows… There are many legends and stories, but nobody knows exactly.”

“Legends like Dracula? Do you think he was the first one?”

Izzy chuckled at you. “Axl is older than Dracula, so no, I don’t think he was.”

“He is… older than Dracula? That ginger?” You pointed towards the living room with your thumb.

“I am!” You heard his voice coming from there.

“As you probably noticed, we don’t age.” He got a cigarette from his vintage cigarette box on top of his table, lighting it.

“And what is this? Is it like a fraternity, or something?”

He shrugged again. “There isn’t a correct definition for the collective of vampires, we usually call them clans.”

“Are there too many clans?”

He looked at you for a second, and you could tell that he was annoyed by the number of questions you had. But he answered anyway.

“Not really… Vampires aren’t the most sociable species, we hardly hang around each other."

“And why do you guys do?”

He shrugged, blowing out some smoke.

“What should I do now?”

“You need to wait.” He placed the remains of his cigarette on his ashtray. “As soon as your human blood is replaced by the vampire, you’ll remember your personal information and will start to have full access to your new abilities.”

You nodded, fixing your eyes on a black-covered book on his desk.

“Where will I stay?” Your posture changing with discomfort.

“You can stay here until you remember everything, then you’ll have to leave.”

“But what will I do alone?” You bit your bottom lip, trying not to cry for the second time that day. 

Seeing the tears forming in your eyes, he stood up. “That is not something you should be worried about now. Go upstairs and sleep for some hours, it will help with your mood swings.” 

“So we can sleep?” You got up, walking past the door.

He didn’t answer, stopping by the door and looking up. “Slash, can you find a room for Y/N?”

The man still on top of the stairs nodded, and so you walked towards him, following him down the corridor.

“Here, this room ain’t taken.” He opened a door to his left.

“Thank you.” You entered. 

“If you need anything, just say it, we can hear you easily.”

You nodded and he closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the room. Your mind racing and aching with all the information you had gathered.

Loneliness and sadness soon hitting you like a train. You removed your shoe, laying on the bed and closing your eyes as silent tears left them.

You hated not knowing what was happening, or more precisely, what had happened, and even if you tried to remain calm, you couldn't help the frustration that started to build up in your chest.

So you laid on your side, squeezing your pillow closer to you as you tried to sleep, hoping that when you woke up, everything would have been just a dream.

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#harley writes #bloodletting #guns n roses #guns n roses as vampires #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses imagine #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses fic #gnr #gnr imagine #axl rose #axl rose fanfic #Izzy Stradlin #izzy stradlin fanfic #duff mckagan #duff mckagan fanfic #slash #slash fanfic #saul hudson #saul hudson fanfic #steven adler #steven adler fanfic #classic rock #classic rock imagine

[hercleverboy]

turning page

spencer reid x reader 

genre > fluff 

wc > 1.6k

spencer has loved the reader for as long as could remember. when they meet again years later by chance, will everything fall back into place? 

Spencer had loved Y/N for as long as he could remember.

He recalled how they’d met when they started school together. She was his only real friend, his best friend. They walked to and from school together, he taught her how to play chess, and sometimes even let her win. She always defended him from the bullies who relentlessly tormented him. He’d never forget that she was the one who’d untied him from the goal post his tormenters had strapped him  to humiliate him. How she’d offered him her jacket, walked him home. She’d even offered to let him stay the night at her house, aware of his mother’s condition. He’d politely refused, but was also so grateful that she’d bothered to ask. They were young, but he knew he loved her. 

When he moved away for college, it was one of the hardest decisions he’d ever had to make, leaving her behind. He wanted to ask her to come with him but he knew she couldn’t leave, even if she wanted to. She had family and commitments she had to uphold. (”I can’t just drop everything and go, Spence. But if I could I’d be with you in a heartbeat.”) The last time he hugged her, he relished in the feeling of his skin on hers, tried desperately not to think about how this may be the last time he’s fortunate enough to hold her in his arms. They loved one another, that much was certain. 

but it went unspoken, the fear of rejection, the innate human need to protect themselves from being hurt. 

So he’d said goodbye to her, and for years after he wished he’d told her he loved her before he left. She lingered in the back of his mind as he grew up, still evading his thoughts from time to time. His heart would still race at the thought of her, at the crystal clear memories he still held so close to him.

It was four years after joining the BAU that he met her again. Completely by chance, in a random coffee shop a block from his apartment. Initially, he couldn’t believe it was her. She still had the same smile, the one he could still remember as if he last saw it yesterday. She was still so beautiful, in fact, her beauty almost put his memory to shame. Eidetic or not, it couldn’t possibly encompass her beauty. It radiated from her like the sun, and he just knew he had to talk to her again.

“Y/N?” He’d asked, the nerves creeping up his throat and making him nauseous.

She turned around, her confused gaze leaving her features and being replaced with one of shock as the realisation hit her. “Spencer?”

He nodded with a timid grin, and she smiled. “I’m so glad to see you! It’s been so long, how are you?”

And they talked for hours, just as they had all them years ago. They chatted and laughed as if not a day had passed since they’d last spoken. As though they’d simply picked up where they left off.

It didn’t take Spencer long to realise that now she was back in his life, he wasn’t going to let her go so easily.

It only took him two months to ask her out.

Nothing prepared me for

What the privilege of being yours would do

After an entire year together, Spencer still couldn’t seem to comprehend just how lucky he was. Every morning he got to wake up beside her, his girl, he thanked every star for giving him a woman so incredible, so loving and compassionate.

It was a privilege to love her, and to receive her love in return.

Whenever he woke up early on days that he knew were going to be hectic, he liked to take a moment to watch her as she slept. Her head would rest on his chest, soft snores leaving her slightly parted lips. He’d noticed how the early morning sunlight that streamed through a gap in the curtains seemed to perfectly frame her natural beauty. He let his eyes travel over her face, remembering the place of every freckle, how her eyelashes brushed so delicately against her cheeks. He buried the memories deep in the crevices of his mind, hoping he’d never have to face a day where he couldn’t remember those details. The details he treasured so greatly.

On days like that, he would think back to all those years he’d lived without her (and he couldn’t understand how he’d managed it, now his life would be so empty and incomplete without her warmth). He would think back to the late nights that he stared up at the ceiling, recalling conversations they’d had many years before, analysing them, berating himself for letting her go.

He recalled how he’d cried one night, when it finally seemed to hit him just how much he missed her, and how the chances of finding her when he had no idea where to start were astronomically small. He was so sure he’d missed his shot with her, that he’d had his chance already, that he wasn’t lucky enough to be given a second one.

Luckily for Spencer, the universe had other plans. (It does work in mysterious ways, you see.)

Every kiss is a cursive line

Every touch is a redefining phrase

Spencer learned to indulge himself in every moment they shared. To really take in how her lips felt against his, how they made him feel so safe and happy and home.

He thinks he would kiss her forever if he could.

When a case was rough and he just needed her to hold him, to press light kisses to his forehead and assure him that everything was okay.

He truly treasured every touch, no matter how small, every kiss, no matter how quick. In his line of work, the little things are what mattered at the end of the day.

She was what mattered.

Y/N was everything to Spencer. His only constant, the one who held him through pain and anger and upset and never questioned or ridiculed him. He knew how important his job was, and he knew that every day he went to work he was making someone’s life better, he knew that his work mattered.

But he also knew that jobs would come and go, that he could easily find another job elsewhere, it would be no hassle at all. He would never find another her, however. She was it for him. He’d seen relationships crumble because of the job, he’d watched Hotch lose his wife because of the job and he knew he never wanted to lose Y/N to the job either.

He’d quit the BAU tomorrow if she asked.

(But she would never ask.)

I surrender who I've been for who you are

For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart

On the really bad days when all he needed was her arms around him, for her soothing voice to fill his ears, he realised exactly what he’d give up for her. For the love of his life, he not sure there’s anything he wouldn’t do. For her.

He recognised how his heart swelled with true happiness whenever he was with her. He recalled the time they decorated their apartment together for Halloween, Y/N had been hanging decorations from the ceiling when Spencer had spooked her. She’d squealed and given him a death glare that was soon broken by a fit of giggles as he swarmed her with tickles and kisses. (She could never stay mad at him, and Spencer was sure that her laughter could cure any illness and right any wrongs.)

He found strength in her. In how she would gently place her hand over his when they were in loud public places and he began to get anxious. In how she would send him reassuring smiles from across the room whenever she watched him give a guest lecture to a room full of aspiring agents, which would immediately soothe his nerves. In how she’d let him rest his head on her chest on the nights where he needed immediate reassurance that she was safe in the form of her heartbeat.

He always worried that he wasn’t as good of a boyfriend as she deserved, as she always seemed to do more for him than he did for her.

(She’d shut that down quickly by shaking her head and whispering, “Spence, you do enough by just being here with me. I’ll never ask for anything more from you.”)

Spencer guessed he was just lucky like that.

Although Spencer had never been a lucky man, he didn’t even really believe in luck. To Spencer, everything could be explained scientifically. He didn’t like to think that things in his life were a result of luck, a result of pure chance. He didn’t believe in such a factor until he met Y/N.

Because how else could he explain how someone like her wanted, loved, someone like him?

If it wasn’t luck, he didn’t know what it was.

But he’d like to think that him and Y/N had come together on their own. That there was no luck or change involved, no will of the universe wanting them together.

No. He chose to believe that they were simply meant to be. That their love could withstand the weight of the world and not crumble.

And for Spencer, that was more than enough.

Though we're tethered to the story we must tell

When I saw you, well I knew we'd tell it well

With a whisper we will tame the vicious seas

Like a feather bringing kingdoms to their knees

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #criminal minds #turning page