#i know it's entirely possible and has been done before HOWEVER. knowing my dumb ass. 😭😭😭😭

[sunflowergyeomie]

can you handle it?

sypnosis: jeonghan is a real pain in the ass, we all know that. he always seems to get you to do things you never agreed on doing, you try not to fall for them though. what if one day you accidentally fall into his trap and give in, without knowing at all?

pairing: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader (vagina bearing)

genre: established relationship, fashion design student!au, architect!au, smut (18+ only)

word count: 2.9k

warnings: profanity, m!dom, degradation, lots of cum play, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, pet names, size kink?? if you squint

a/n: bcos the irl girl version of jeonghan (aka my devil angel twin) @shuajeong told me "there aren't any fics of jeonghan lately", thus ✨this is written purely for you and your pain 😘 i have to say though, this isn't my best work :( i kept going back and forth and i rewrote and changed things at least three times so 😖😖 (i'm lowkey done with it so i'm sorry i tried, i really did) please forgive me.

Challenge?

Oh, it’s a challenge, alright.

Annoyed is what it is, lips pressed tightly together as you sink in the indescribable feeling. That’s what was currently happening seeing how there is a huge load of cum in your panties – an ignorant aftermath of your quickie with Jeonghan this morning before he drove you to class.

He even had the nerve to question how long you could stay like that for the entire day. You took that as him asking for a challenge and having been with you for a while now, Jeonghan knew you were never one to back down from them. Having basked in the afterglow of sex sure made you think anything was possible – or more accurately speaking his dick just made you dumb.

Now that it’s almost noon, you’re absolutely starting to regret the choice you’ve made, especially when you’re sitting halfway through your second lecture for the day, simply feeling that load threatening to spill out from the cotton panel, onto your inner thighs and slowly ooze down your legs.

Multiple calls of your name put a halt to your thoughts. A hand waves across your face while your eyes focus and refocus as the silhouettes come into sight. Your friends, Mingyu and Minghao are both staring at you, confusion etched across their faces, anticipating an answer from a question one of them probably asked. But in all honesty, you couldn’t recall the subject matter, nor did you give a shit about their issues because your main concern at this time is to get the hell out of there. “Oh, huh? Oh yes, sorry, yes, I’ll absolutely do that.”

A little laugh escapes from Mingyu’s lips while Minghao frowns. “I said.. What are you thinking about?” Mingyu asks, “You have a weird look on your face.”

“Are you not feeling well?” Minghao chimes in. “We can take n-“

“I’m fine, guys. Just a little tired,” You brush off, not wanting to go too deep into whatever you were currently feeling. It’s not that the guys weren’t close to you. In fact, they grew to be one of the closest ever since freshman year when all three of you showed up in the same pattern drafting class, wary looks on everybody’s faces in a new environment. Since the fashion department itself is small with only a few hundred students enrolled, it also meant that classes were taken with familiar faces, rarely is there a fashion student you haven’t seen before. Not to mention you were always being grouped in numerous projects and that’s how the three of you came to be. Both of them knew of your relationship with Jeonghan, of course, but there’s just some things that are better off left unsaid even if they are your best friends.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the both of them stealing glances at you every now and then. Even though they didn’t buy your excuse, Mingyu and Minghao knew better than not to bug you about it so throughout the whole three-hour lecture, you could just sense their concern emanating off their bodies. Adding on to your growing anxiety, making you more on edge, terrified that at any moment they would catch a glimpse of whatever dirty secret you were holding in – quite literally. Pulling out your phone, you quickly sent a text.

[12:03 PM]

you: I can’t take this anymore.

hannie: what’s wrong, princess?

You groaned, exasperation coating your breath. Was he playing dumb?

you: you know what I mean, han.

hannie: and what about it?

hannie: if I recall correctly, weren’t you the one who practically begged me to cum inside of you? Was just doing what you asked me to, princess :)

Scoffing in disbelief, you ignore his message, tossing the device straight into your bag, now furious at yourself for agreeing to it.

Stupid dick.

You weren’t even that horny this morning.

The cement walkways on campus greet the three of you as you step through the warm breeze. The sun shining through every leaf on the tall oak trees above you signal the firsts of many beautiful days now that summer is just around the corner. The bright weather is a big contrast to your dampening mood as your feet slowly drag along the blocks, leaving a gap between you and your friends while you try to keep up. You weren’t too keen on walking too fast right now. One wrong shift and you could be at risk of having Jeonghan’s gooey, semi-translucent, and not-so-warm release pooling down from underneath your mound. The two paid no attention to you though, they’re happily chatting about lunch options and the next possible location for studying afterwards. Not that you were going to join them anyways, not until you get the mess in between your legs situated.

“How about donkkaseu?” Mingyu turns around to ask, head whipping back mid-sentence to look at you, only to turn around and see that you’re already gone. His head turns left and right, trying to find you in the crowd of students, squinting his eyes for even a glimpse of your backpack but you’re nowhere to be seen.

“Where’d she go?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Minghao gives him a pointed look. “Jeonghan.” He says bluntly.

Jeonghan works downtown, a full hour away from your university. He was a busy man, well-equipped with knowledge and never failed to take pride in his work, no matter what it was. Your boyfriend was a well-wanted individual – not only with people who desperately wanted to be in his inner circle but also in his field of work with the numerous clients fighting for a slot in his schedule. Jeonghan has never-ending project proposals, spending most of his hours reviewing alterations and redevelopments on his building designs – a perfectionist, you often say or an obsession as others might call it. Knowing how serious his job was to him, you made sure not to meddle in with his profession, seeing how much it irritated him whenever he couldn’t concentrate, but this time was different – and you couldn’t hold yourself back from making the journey. You bow as you greet the secretary at the front desk. She takes one look up from her screen and already knows who you’re here for, immediately telling you of your boyfriend’s whereabouts while you nod back in thankfulness.

Pushing the heavy doors to Jeonghan’s office, the first thing you notice were his eyebrows deeply furrowed upon his face, a definite telltale to the attentiveness of the task in front of him. A few coworkers were surrounding him, each hovered over what seemed to be like another one of his drawing plans. At the click of the doorknob, Jeonghan’s head perked up when he saw you enter. A smile threatens to pull at his lips, but he bites them to prevent the joy from appearing. He’s been waiting for you all day. Having expected you to cave in earlier so he could have an excuse to take a long break. The current deal he was working on was getting to his head even though he’s gone over it a couple times already. He just needs a reset, a breather of some sort, … a release. Jeonghan fakes innocence however when he asks why you’re here. Simultaneously, his brain has already got his fingers wrapped around the string – pulling once, twice, three times, officially starting the internal mischievousness in him. A devious idea accelerating right before your very own eyes.

You furiously start making your way towards him, hair flying in all directions, nostrils flared in annoyance, your cheeks flamed red from built-up anger since the early morning you got to school, and the wrinkle between your eyebrows. You were a hot-tempered mess, you knew that but god, all he could think about was how beautiful you look. The way your eyes are rounded with the curvature of your nose bridge, adding on to the natural tint to your soft lips. Your lips that pout ever so slightly whenever you want something, your lips that taste like a mixture of yourself and that artificial strawberry-flavoured chapstick you apply every morning, your lips he so badly wants to feel against his own.

Your voice cuts through, interrupting his trance. “Excuse me, can I speak to you privately for one second?”

“Of course.” Jeonghan grins, dropping the pen as his hands start pushing his body up from the plush chair, quickly dismissing his staff with a wave of the hand. They take a hint as one by one, each of them starts leaving. He stands up, arms already going around your waist to pull you close, “Hi baby, how was your day?” He asks, head tilting as his hands are already reaching up to run his fingers through your hair.

You open your mouth to spew words, anger bubbling in letters as they boil up to the back of your throat but all of which dies down when the fire is turned off. Blocked off after the door is shut behind the last person when his demeanour takes a turn and switches a whole 180 degrees. His plan finally comes into action as his acting skills gear up. Licking his lips, his hands drop as he takes a step closer to you, hovering over your tiny figure. He’s finally got you where he wanted you in the first place. His eyes peer down from the lenses of his wired glasses, “Don’t you know better than not to interrupt me while I’m working?” He pauses. “What do you think my staff will think if you’re here for too long?” The back of his fingers gently trails down your face, almost feather-like as you try to press your face against his palm, leaning more into his touch.

“Guess you couldn’t keep it in, huh? I always knew you were a little slut.” Jeonghan tsked, “Was my cock not enough that you needed a second filling? It’s only been a few hours, darling.”

He starts walking back to his desk, hands going into his pockets as he leans against the edge. It shouldn’t have intimidated you, the way his eyes bore into yours but you gulped anyways, a feeling of excitement stirring in your lower abdomen as you clenched around nothing. You opened your mouth to retaliate, only for it to be shaped like what seems like a silent ‘o’. One of his eyebrows raise, a silent gesture for you to come.

Out of habit, your legs start moving obediently on their own until they reach the fronts of Jeonghan’s dress shoes. Tracing the outline of his long, toned legs hidden underneath the carob brown material of his trousers, you couldn’t help catching onto the small details of the garment. The modern leg-lines seamed in to elongate his legs, waistband wrapped around his torso showcasing his slim but strong build, the button with its holes as imaginary eyes and a crossed thread disguised as lips silently screaming ‘open me, open me!’.

He grabs your jaw, forcing you to tear your eyes away from his lower half to look at him. “I thought you came here to say something, but I can practically see the drool coming out of your pretty little mouth, staring at my cock.”

“I-“, He spins you around, positions changed now that you’re the one leaning against the desk. Jeonghan dives his head to capture your lips with his. You’re taken by surprise as a gasp escapes from your mouth while he takes that as a chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping past your bottom lip; full of need and desire, desperate to let out his frustrations. All your effort is focused on keeping up, molding your mouths together. Your anger is now replaced with lust. His hands are moving down to grip your ass.

Your breath hitches when his lips start trailing down your jaw, gently nibbling the soft skin on your neck before travelling down the valley of your breasts. He doesn’t bother trying to take off your top, opting to unbutton the first few, just enough to expose your lacy bra. Slipping underneath one cup to carefully knead your honey soft skin before latching his mouth onto your nipple, sucking gently but firmly. You whine as he hoists you up and places you on the surface, his face never detaching from your soft and full chest as he quickly pulls your pants off, leaving you in just your soaked panties.

“Maybe it was a good idea to leave my cum in you,” Jeonghan’s fingers hook onto the waistband. He smirks before pulling them down completely, stopping mid-thigh. “Easier to prepare.”

A trail of your slick follows as his digits spread your pussy, using his middle finger to slowly drag up your wet slit. His other hand is gripping your thigh when he reaches down in between, scooping the leftover cum from the previous session and forcing it back into your pussy. You watch with wide eyes only to have them roll back completely when he finishes by stuffing them all the way into you, resulting in a loud moan.

“P-please”

Jeonghan chuckles, satisfied by your reaction. He had you beckoning at his every move yet you were sure the satisfaction still wasn’t enough for him, not just yet. He pulls his fingers out to strip himself of his own pants, popping his member out. The hand with the fingers that were just inside of you is now rubbing all over his cock, using the little beads of precum along with a bit of your slick to pump himself.

Jeonghan’s cock is pretty, like the boy himself. He’s not too big or too small but he knows his angles and he knows how to use them right. Every time the two of you get intimate, which is quite often, his thrusts are sharp, clean and reach to the most inner parts of you – something that leaves soreness inside of you for days. But that doesn’t seem to matter whenever the two of you are having hot and steamy sex five days out of the seven weekly.

“You better stay fucking quiet.”

One hand is gripping your waist for extra support while the other is slowly guiding his length into you. The growl in his voice sends another wave of arousal between your legs, the wetness starting to spill and gather down your thighs. His eyes diverted down to pay attention to the way his length was disappearing inside of you. Each stroke covering his manhood with even more of your juices.

“F-ffuck, baby.” He curses under his breath. “You’re still so tight.”

His voice was breathy, almost like a whine before he picks up his speed, splitting your folds with a sloppy rhythm, expecting to chase both your highs before his coworkers come barging back in. Although the thought of getting caught in such a compromising position arouses him, Jeonghan couldn’t risk letting anyone seeing you in your most vulnerable state. Not when you have all the right curves, exclusive only for his viewing.

At some point, his hands start pulling you into him to meet his every thrust, your tits bouncing as you start feeling the delicious new angle he’s ruining you from. The tip of his cock rubbing against your cervix with every stretch. The familiar feeling of tension starts to build as your eyes squeeze tighter, your orgasm is approaching faster and faster. You’ve never wanted to scream his name out loud so badly when he slams once, no, twice into you, releasing the coil sending intensifying waves of pleasure throughout your whole body. Your tight heat clenching and unclenching around him causing Jeonghan to groan, “Shit.”

“Cum in me.” You insisted weakly. He gives in as he presses himself balls deep, cock twitching as he unloads inside of you, cum shooting in spurts coating your walls in white. The groan emerging from the back of his throat muffled as he quickly smashes his lips onto yours to conceal it. Your muscles move on your own, hiding your own whimper as your lips move together in unison. His body slumps over yours while he rests his head against your shoulder, pressing a light kiss as a way to say thank you.

In the intimacy of the moment, your arms are thrown around his broad shoulders, subconsciously pulling him closer as the two of you try to catch your breaths. When he lifts his head up, his doll eyes are already staring into your glossy ones. A tender smile spreading across his face, pecking your lips one more time before he slowly pulls out. Straight away, the emptiness is evident as his warmth disappears, your hole gaping while he looks down to appreciate the work done on your ruined pussy.

You feel your panties being pulled back up, now snug on your hips as he lets go of the elastic waistband to hear it snap back on your skin.

“Guess you have two loads to keep in now.” A devilish look covering every inch of his handsome face.

“Jeonghan!” you lunged at him. He cackles maniacally, successfully dodging while you attempt to jump on his back. The blood in your veins starts boiling again, both hands reaching up to cover your face when you realize your mistake for the second time today.

Jeonghan’s dick really did make you dumb.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan smut #jeonghan imagine #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan #yoon jeonghan one shot #jeonghan one shots #svt jeonghan

[beelspillowpet]

Headcanons about how the side characters (brothers too if you want) act when you want to go for a walk late at night in the dark in the Devildom with them, but it might not be entirely safe since you're human.

Hey, anon! This is a CUTE!!!!! prompt! Nice and soft <3 Thanks for the request!

~

Lucifer

Was about to go out for a walk anyways. He really needed to cool off after dealing with the shenanigans in the kitchen regarding Beel and Levi.

He’s sort of glad you wanted to go for a walk too, but he’s not so foolish enough to think that it’s anything more than a mere coincidence.

The walk with him is quiet, but every now and then either of you will strike up a conversation. Mostly him. It’s usually about his brothers, or your time here in the Devildom.

After your walk together, he feels rejuvenated. He doesn’t try to show it too much, but he enjoys his time spent with you. He starts to ask you to go on walks with him from time to time now.

Mammon

Walk yourself! Damn human...

That’s what he says, but he obviously comes running out after you. You didn’t give a damn; you were getting out of that house one way or another. Whatever happens, happens.

That’s what you told Mammon, and he nearly smacked you over the head for it. Be glad you’re a weakling human. The GREAT Mammon is now your bodyguard while you have your stupid little walk...

He doesn’t stop talking the entire time, though. Stupid human this, dumb brothers that... It almost makes you wonder why you asked him to tag along. Your eyes meet for a moment and for a moment he stuttered to a stop, blushing. Oh yeah. That’s why.

Leviathan

Ew, working out? Are you on drugs?

Well, that was a little harsh... but still. Walking is for normies. And Beel. Though I guess he sorta... jogs. Is there even any difference? GRAAAH! Fine. I need a break from this level anyways, it’s been kicking my ass for the past hour!

That’s all he says, before he’s out the door with you. He’s very protective of you on the walk, and when other demons are walking by, he wraps his tail around your waist possessively. You think it’s pretty cute.

What isn’t so cute is how exhausted he is so quickly. It astonishes you, honestly. The walk to RAD is longer than the distance you two have walked so far. I guess that’s probably why he doesn’t show up there often.

Satan

Oh, that sounds lovely. He eagerly complies with you, ready to get out of the house at the drop of a hat.

He’s not ashamed to show it either. He would rather you come to him first when you’re excited for new scenery, so a walk sounds like a perfect way to ease into all of that.

He’s the one walking you, though. You’re dragged all over the Devildom with him, when you wanted “a peaceful stroll under the constant watchful gaze of the moon.”

He stops and looks at you. “That was very poetic.” He doesn’t mind showing how impressed by your eloquence. He decides soon after though, that you’re right. You DO seem pretty tired, so he’s taking you home. Enjoy the long walk back!

Asmodeus

Of course darling! Just as long as it’s a short stroll. Maybe you two can get some pretty Devilgram photos by that rose bush near RAD too?

He does not like walking for too long. Doesn’t want to break out into a single sweat and oh! People walk their dogs there, be careful of poop on the ground, will you?

A good portion of the walk is him talking about himself, or talking about a party happening around the way. While tempting, you were no where near dressed for the occasion.

Well don’t you worry, Asmo always comes prepared! He has a change of clothes in his bag for you, and you’d fit it too! Congrats! You’re now stuck at a party, when all you wanted was a quick outing!

Beelzebub

Oh, sure! He loves going for walks. Or jogs. Or runs. Usually runs, because more calories are burned. But if you want to go on a walk, a walk is fine too. Just don’t be surprised when you only burn half as much as-

You’re already walking ahead of him. It’s not like you didn’t care- well not that much if you’re being honest- but you just wanted to get away from the house. Being in a house where chaos is right around the corner (literally) puts you on edge sometimes.

Beel can appreciate the quiet of your walks together. He assumes you wanted it to be as peaceful as possible, but something about him always makes you feel uneasy. Like he’s hiding something heavy on his conscious. At some point he even whispers, “You’re still here.” Whatever that means.

You decide to keep walking with him from time to time. You’re curious to see if he’ll ever open up to you, or if you’ll just have to be that “annoyingly curious” (Mammon’s words, not Beels) human that you seem to be so well.

Belphegor

No. That’s too much effort. Going places???? But why though.

In the same fashion as Mammon, though, he comes after you when you leave the gates. Like HELL is he going to let you off on your own.

He complains part of the time while out, but figures you aren’t listening that much. Most of the walk is quiet after that, and he almost feels awkward, having complained so much at first.

He almost wants to speak up. Have a heart to heart with you. He still feels guilty for what he’s done, but there’s a nervousness scratching at his throat. He decides against it. Next time, he thinks.

Diavolo

Oh a walk sounds fun! He knows a few pretty spots to walk on. Or maybe his private beach would be better suited?

He gets on his running shoes and more comfortable clothes and is out the door. He’ll be back... eventually!

Oh, you meant the two of you? Well, er... that’s fine too! His point still stands. It’s dangerous for you to go alone anyways.

The walk is peaceful, but filled with chatter. Much less about your time in the Devildom, and more out your very different way of life in the human world. He wants you to be the one to talk, and for him to listen for a change.

Barbatos

A walk sounds delightful.

He would be happy to accompany you on a quick stroll to relax your mind. He is silent the entire way, however, speaking when spoken to.

It isn’t much, but it’s enough for you. He’s grateful for that. Occasionally he will ask if you would like a quick break, or to stop in this or that place for a treat.

He’s grateful that you wished to take him away from his responsibilities, even for a brief moment. It shows character in you. That you really do see him as more than a butler, for some reason. He wouldn’t mind more walks with you in the future.

Simeon

Oh a walk sounds fun! We should probably bring Luke with us right?

Yeah, probably not. People would confuse him for our child together! Wouldn’t that be funny, though?

Walks with an angel sounds pleasant, and that’s exactly what it is. Its filled with fun chatter about life, about RAD, about this exchange program. The entire time, he’s assuring you that no matter what, he’ll always lend an ear to listen.

Will always walk you back to the gates, and wave goodbye. You usually feel like you could walk for longer with him, but he figures you might be tired. Ever considerate, he let’s you go before you talk each others ears off.

Luke

Isn’t it always nighttime here...? Either way-

Sure! He knows this nice little cafe you and he could go to for a pit stop! 

There’s also this nice little animal park you two could visit afterwards, where the pets run with their leashes off. Maybe you’ll get lucky and pet one or two?!

He secretly doesn’t know why you asked him to walk with you. Could it be because you feel safe with him around!? Is it because you needed a break from those nasty and mean demons? ESPECIALLY Lucifer!? He gets it! Wholeheartedly! He’ll protect you, MC!

Solomon

:)))

He’s glad you asked him. A nice walk in hell with your local sorcerer sounds crazy, but it’s anything but. At least for now.

He probably does drag you into something crazy, like suggesting potions for you to try for this or that.

He might take you to Hocus Pocus without you even realizing it. Never mind it, you probably should have just stayed home! Still though... that sorcerer does have a pretty smile. it might be worth the long trip to Hocus Pocus after all...

#obey me #obey me headcanons #om! #om! hcs #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me solomon

[imperfectcourt]

Andreil Prompt:

Neil is an Assassin. Some day something goes very, very wrong. So the first time Andrew meets Neil, Neil has to explain to him that he accidentally poisened him and Andrew has to go to the hospital to get the antidote.

So I was really unsure about this but when I got going I got really excited about it! But I also COMPLETELY MISSED the line where it said "the first time" so this is very much not the first time they meet ;__; sorry! I hope you like it though!

Neil had never panicked on a job before. He’d never made a mistake or killed the wrong person or not killed the right person. He could kill whoever he was told to kill, he could kill however he was told to kill, and he could be whoever he was told to be in order to do it.

Killing Andrew Minyard was the worst and last mistake Neil would ever make.

Worming his way into A. Minyard’s life hadn’t been easy but it had been natural- the most honest work of his filthy, bloody life.

It had to be this way. It couldn’t look like a typical mob hit, anything abrupt and easy would look suspicious. The call had to come from inside the house, or so they say.

Neil tipped the vial into the remnants of the whiskey bottle and poured two modest glasses. It wouldn’t be pleasant for him but he’d built up enough of a tolerance to survive. Odorless, collarless, no paper trail. He’d suffer some hallucinations and maybe some minor liver damage but he’d live and after tonight he’d be free. No more Moriyama’s. No more contracts. No more death.

No more Andrew.

Neil brought one glass up to swirl, smell, sniff, and sip. A perfectly normal glass of whiskey. He brought out onto the small balcony and put them on the rickety table between two lawn chairs. Andrew picked his up and didn’t make the small cheers motion he always did as a silent thanks, didn’t drink. He’d been staring at his closed phone for the last half hour. Neil knew he would say what was wrong in time (if there was time).

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said after several long minutes, punctuating the statement with a sip. Guess there was time, after all. Neil sat sideways on his chair so he could watch Andrew light a cigarette.

“That sounds ominous. You’re not a murderer are you?”

Andrew’s top lip curled in a small, vicious smile. “That’s a truth for a different day.”

No, it wasn’t, and Neil found himself reaching for another mouthful of whiskey. Andrew raised a brow at this, having caught on a while ago that Neil liked to draw the drink out as long as possible if it meant he didn’t have to go home yet.

“It’s nothing to form a drinking habit over, calm down.” Andrew took up his drink again and every sip he took felt like friendly fire. “You’re going to see something on the news tomorrow and I’d rather tell you myself than get pissy with me for not bringing it up sooner.”

“Secrets secrets are no fun,” Neil parroted. Andrew kicked out his socked foot to hit Neil’s heel and didn’t pull it back.

“A story will be dropping about my brother’s involvement in a gang bust tonight. Just got word that everything went well but his services had been needed on sight.” With the hand that held the cigarette, he gave his cellphone a little shake.

“You have a brother?” That hadn’t been in the assignment, but family matters were often left out for jobs like this. He couldn’t go in knowing too much and risk exposing himself.

“My twin.”

“You have a twin?”

Andrew threw back the rest of his drink and waved it at Neil’s face. “The only reason I’m telling you is because you’re going to see him parading around on t.v. with my face. We’re not that close.”

A gang bust. Big enough for national news. That couldn’t- that would mean-

“What’s his name?”

“Aaron.”

“A. Minyard. Doctor Aaron Minyard.”

Andrew froze. Looked at Neil so expressionless he might as well have been stone. “I never said he was a doctor.”

He didn’t have to. Dr. A Minyard. Fox affiliated attached to a photograph. Andrew had his PhD and his connection to Kevin Day was easy enough to find if you knew where to look. The Foxes were an elusive bunch of vigilantes but everyone had heard of Kevin Day, son of the founders of the Foxes.

Neil had never made a mistake before and killing Andrew Minyard was the biggest mistake of his life. He knocked the glass from Andrew’s hand only because Andrew let him.

“Now, right now,” he changed, grabbing Andrew by the sleeve and tugging him back inside. It only worked because Andrew let him. Andrew was always letting Neil, trusting Neil. And for what? For this?

Neil let go when he was sure Andrew would follow him and rushed to the tiny kitchen. He took the water glass by the sink and upended the entire salt shaker into it.

“Drink this right now,” he ordered Andrew.

Andrew did not take it.

“Andrew, trust me just one last time. Just this one last time trust me and drink this. Just this once. Just this one last time.” There was time. There was barely time. It had been less than a minute, there had to be time.

Neil didn’t know what he would do if Andrew didn’t drink, if Neil killed him for nothing. No matter what the outcome, no matter Andrew's decision, Neil would die either way.

Andrew took the salt water, drank the whole thing, and promptly threw up in the sink.

Neil watched, hands in his hair and tears clouding his eyes as Andrew righted himself, wiping at his mouth with the back of his wrist.

“That’ll give you time to get to the hospital. You have to go now, you’ve got time.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Andrew put his hand slowly, calmly, over Neil’s throat, “until you explain.”

He pressed him into the wall.

Neil let him.

“You were supposed to be my last one and my contract would be fulfilled,” he said.

“Explain better than that. What does this have to do with Aaron?”

“There’s no time-”

“Then make it quick.” He pressed against Neil’s throat and Neil’s hands came up instinctively to grab his arm. He stopped before making contact.

“I was born into a debt that the Moriyama’s own. I was one of their hit men. A. Minyard. Fox associate. And a picture. That was my last assignment and I could finally… I could…”

Words were getting harder. He had begun ingesting the poison before Andrew and hadn’t gotten any of it out of his system.

“You’re the only one I never…”

“Never what? Never shot like a coward? Never succeeded in killing?”

“Never wanted to.” His hands came down onto Andrew’s forearm even though he didn’t have permission. His vision was swimming around the edges and he couldn’t tell if it was because of the drug or the pressure on his trachea. “I didn’t want to kill you. H-hospital. You still need the hospital. You have time.”

“Why should I believe a single thing you say?”

“I’ve never lied to you.” It was so important for him to say that somehow the words came out with conviction. “Never lied. Andrew, you’re amazing and I love you but you need to leave right now.”

His knees gave out and for the briefest moment all of his weight was being held by the hand on his throat. Andrew lowered them both to the ground.

“What did- You idiot.” Ah, yes. He must have caught on. “You did all this to live only to fucking kill yourself? Neil. Neil… Neil!”

Neil had never panicked on a job, but he’d also never woken up in a hospital bed before. He was aware of the spike in noise before he was aware of his surroundings.

“The worst assassin in history.”

Neil groaned but didn’t yet open his eyes. His memory was just solid enough to know what he’d taken and experience told him he wasn’t ready to face the spinning world.

“Can’t say he was wrong, technically,” the same voice said.

“What kind of assassin not only chooses the wrong target but falls in love with their dumb ass?”

“This dumb ass has the same level of education as your dumb ass.”

“My dumb ass has a doctorate of medicine, not in books.”

“Literature.”

“Still dumb.”

“Sssh,” Neil breathed out, testing the waters of control and strength. He had very little of either.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the dumbest of asses.”

“Give him another hour and he might even be able to respond.”

“Now who would want that.”

The second time Neil woke up in a hospital, it was enough for him to look around and realize this was not a hospital but rather a medically furnished bedroom.

“I hate you.”

He turned his head to see Andrew slouching back in an overstuffed, wingback chair. The look on his ever-passive face was angry and Neil would take angry over dead any day.

“You made it,” he slurred. His mouth felt like cotton. “You made it,” he said again because it was right and good. “You made it.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m fine. Got a tolerance”

“Is that something they teach you in the bright sunny world of the Nest?”

Neil made a finger gun at Andrew (why?) and slowly, slowly tilted himself onto his side to see him better. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew there were things he needed to worry about, but for now he just wanted to look.

“I’m happy you’re alive.”

“I don’t care.” And he sounded like he didn’t, but that was how he always sounded. Still Andrew. Still him. Still alive. For a long, quiet while they stared at each other.

“I have to go before the Moriyama’s come looking to do clean up. This won’t be tolerated.”

“No. It won’t be. But not by the Moriyama’s.”

Andrew stood in a motion that made him look much older than he was, tired. As he came to stand over the bed, Neil couldn’t help but stare because not killing Andrew Minyard was the only right thing he had ever done.

“The Foxes completed their take down of the Moriyama’s. It’s been all over the news, which you would have seen if you hadn’t poisoned yourself.”

The… the what? Something must have shown on Neil’s face because Andrew pressed him down into the bed a split second before he’d tried to sit up. As consciousness cleared his fog, his brain began catching up enough to understand that he wasn’t understanding. The synapses were there but they weren’t connecting.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered. Andrew’s mask twitched.

“Of course you don’t, you’ve been too deep cover to keep up with what was right under your nose. The Foxes won, there are no more Ravens, and you, Nathaniel, are a free man.”

The sound of that name, his name, sent a flinch so hard through his body that it made something cramp in his stomach. Andrew watched, bored, as he curled in on himself. If he knew that name, if his cover was blown so spectacularly, then there must be an ounce of truth to it.

“I’m just… Neil. I just want to be Neil.”

“Well, Neil.” Andrew slid his hand into Neil’s hair and squeezed, not hard but enough to tilt his head back. “If you ever do something that stupid again I will kill you myself.” Something in his eyes, however passive he tried to pull off, told Neil that Andrew was not referring to his own attempted murder.

“Were you… worried about me?” That couldn’t be right.

“I don’t know, Neil.” He kept saying his name like that and Neil didn’t know what to feel about it. “My whatever of a good stretch of time nearly killed himself. How should I be feeling?”

“I nearly killed you. I only poisoned myself a little.”

“Why?”

Why? The easy answer was forensics. Two glasses. Two drinkers. One lucky to survive the ordeal. But that wasn���t all of it. As Neil stared up up at Andrew, here at the other side of it all, he could admit to himself that he was glad for the punishment.

“Because… because I was going to kill you to save my own life and I had never hated myself for anything more than that.”

“I hate you,” Andrew spat.

“As long as you’re alive to hate me it’s fine.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me more about the take down.”

“No.”

“Is your brother a Fox? Do I have to be killed for knowing that?”

“You have to be killed because you won’t shut your mouth.”

A good stretch of time. That’s how long Neil had been worming his way to be Andrew’s whatever. And in all that time he’d never felt safer. He lifted a shaky hand and waited. It took nearly a minute before Andrew released his hair and took the hand up in his own.

He didn’t apologize for trying to kill him. He didn’t apologize for coming into his life under false pretenses. If Andrew was there now, he trusted Neil enough to understand. They could talk about it later.

“Go back to sleep,” Andrew ordered quietly.

“So I’ll shut up?” Neil whispered back. His eyes were already drifting closed.

“Sure.”

#aftg #andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #all for the game #my writing

[alltooreid]

Clean

As Spencer struggles to overcome his dilaudid addiction, Y/N is dealing with an addiction of her own, to her toxic, manipulative boyfriend. This is an account of a full year, following their joint journeys to sobriety and new love.

A/N: Hi!! I have another Taylor Swift inspired Spencer Reid one shot (but of course you do not need to know the song to understand the one shot). Although originally I was going to write something more fluffy, I switched to this song to write something more angsty and interesting. However, to change pace from my last one shot, this one has a much happier, hopeful ending. However, it is very triggering so please read the trigger warnings before you start. Also, if you have any songs you want to read please let me know!! Also, if you just have a general request please send it my way! Thank you so much for the love on my All Too Well one shot, I never thought my first fanfic on here would be so well received!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Type: Angst, but hopeful angst

Word Count: 7.6K

Content Warnings: Cursing, mentally and physically abusive relationship, relationship cheating (ie, reader is being cheated on), blood and cuts description, drug addiction (these parts are kept short purposefully), lots of fighting and yelling both in reader’s relationship and between Spencer and reader, however, there is a happy and hopeful ending. Reader is struggling to get out of her toxic relationship, please no comments about her being stupid. If you are in a situation like Y/N, please don’t use this fic as a guide. Get help immediately. https://www.thehotline.org/

Things to Know: Italics and bold are flashback moments, the time and date headers serve as time skips :) let me know what you think! Please request any songs you would like to see be made one shots!

“You're still all over me Like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore Hung my head as I lost the war And the sky turned black like a perfect storm”

3:27 AM, April 16th, 2007.

You have known Spencer for a long time. In fact, you’ve known him longer than you’ve known Randall, and you’ve felt like you’ve known Randall your entire life.

Maybe that’s because you let him become your entire life.

Still, although you had known Spencer for 7 years, 2 years longer than the entirety of your on again, off again relationship with Randall. You still felt weird calling him. He was going through a lot right now, not that he wasn’t normally. Spencer had one of the most difficult jobs you could think of. You know Spencer has shot and killed people before, and you know every time he did it ate him up inside.

And every time he did he called you.

You also knew that Spencer is one of the kindest people you have ever met, you struggle to imagine him wielding a gun on a daily basis. He just seems too sweet, too perfect.

Yet there was a lot you didn’t know about the young genius.

You have no idea that as you stand in the street, contemplating whether you should call Spencer to come and get you, Spencer is making a difficult decision of his own. As you worry about the possibility of waking Spencer up this early in the morning, Spencer sits wide awake and ponders if he has enough time to get high before he has to leave for work in 3 hours.

As you sit on the side of the road, debating between your very few options, Spencer leads up against the side of his bathtub tears pouring down his cheeks, tears that he doesn’t even register as being there.

Fortunately for the both of you, at the same time Spencer reaches into his bag to search for that tiny glass bottle, his phone begins to ring.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You sigh, “He kicked me out again Spencer, is there anyway you can come get me?”

Spencer looks around his apartment, frantically hiding the belt and the needles he had gotten out for the events he was anticipating. “Yeah, of course I can come get you, um, just give me a couple minutes and send me your location.”

3:52 AM, April 16th, 2007.

You’re in the passenger’s seat of Spencer’s car, both of you sitting in silence. This situation isn’t new to either of you, Spencer has picked you up plenty of times before, in fact he’s done it for years now. One time, about 3 years into your relationship with Randall, you were permitted to go out by yourself with Spencer’s team, they wanted to meet you, apparently Spencer talked about you all the time. While you were at dinner with them, Morgan asked you if you had a car of your own. You explained that you did, but that your boyfriend had it a majority of the time, and that when he didn’t he hated you using it because you always had to mess with everything. He hates you touching his stuff. Morgan made a weird face about that answer, so you quickly followed up, explaining that you didn’t mind.

You do mind though. You hate how he never lets you touch anything or go anywhere, and you hate how much he despises your only form of transportation.

Spencer.

Randall hates everything about Spencer Reid, and he especially hates seeing his car pull into your driveway. That’s why after the 8th time he kicked you out, you started walking half a mile to the nearest gas station before calling Spencer.

The first time Spencer came to get you Randall came out to talk to you before you left.

“What are you doing? Who is this?”

“It’s Spencer, he’s gonna take me to his apartment.” you explained, confused why Randall was so angry you were leaving when he was the one who had kicked you out.

“Oh so just because I don’t want to look at your bitchass all night that means you can go sleep with another man? I knew you were a whore Y/N. You know him and his stupid fucking car aren’t going to be able to deal with you the way I can. How old is that thing anyway?”

“Randall, calm down, I’m not sleeping with Spencer. I love you, I don’t want to sleep with anyone else. But I’m not gonna sit out here all night, where else should I go?”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so quick to whore yourself out to the easiest man you could find I would invite you back inside,” he said before slamming the door in your face.

So you got in Spencer’s car, the one Randall would grow to hate so much.

“Are you okay Y/N? He didn’t hit you did he? You know you can come live with me, you should really get out of that house, I can get Morgan tomorrow and we can go get your belongings. I have plenty of-”

You snapped at him, “No Spencer he’s not hitting me! Why do you always jump to that conclusion, Randall is a great guy! I would’ve never called you if you were going to jump to conclusions like this. You’re supposed to be a genius, yet you’re acting like such a dumb ass right now.”

Spencer looked at you, and immediately you regretted your words. You knew Spencer was just worried about you and with his line of work he had reason to be. However before you could apologize he spoke again.

“I’m sorry Y/N, forget I said anything.”

You both sat in silence for a few moments before you even knew what to say, and yet all you could think of was, “Hey Spence, what kind of car do you drive?”

He smiled, “It’s a 1965 Volvo Amazon P130 122S, it’s horizon blue, that’s the color they refer to it as. Did you know they’re known as so reliable that the 4 door models are still used as police vehicles in some places. This one’s a two door, but still runs great. . . “

You smiled, how fitting a man as reliable as Spencer Reid had the perfect car to match.

When you get to Spencer’s apartment something seems off. Spencer has always lived in organized chaos, but this just feels different. Unlike his normal mess, this one feels like a blatant disregard for his things, even some of his most prized possessions. His books are strewn across the floors, his clothes overflowing from his laundry basket, which was a mix of both folded, clean, yet to be put away things and worn items. Weirdly, the one place that looks untouched is his kitchen, as if he hasn’t used it in months. And you mean that in the most literal interpretation, his counters are covered in visible, undisturbed dust.

“Thank you so much Spencer, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He smiles, but his eyes look so tired. “Don’t worry about it Y/N.”

And at 4:47, you finally fall asleep in Spencer’s bedroom, which he insists you take, and he stays awake until he leaves for work just a few hours later.

9:33 PM, April 17th, 2007.

You leave Spencer’s apartment the following night, after an unfortunate screaming match with him. You have never seen him so angry, so easily ticked off. Yet as soon as Randall called you Spencer became aggressive.

“Yeah babe, I’ll be home as soon as I can. I’ll take a cab and be home within the hour. Of course I’m not mad at you sweetheart, I know you didn’t mean it. I love you, see you soon.”

Spencer exitted his kitchen in a huff, and opened his mouth to start talking before you spoke up.

“I’m sure you’ve overheard already, but Randall’s letting me back in the house. Thank you so much Spence. I really appreciate everything you do to help me. Call me soon please, I definitely owe you lunch,” you said, grabbing your coat and your phone, the only things you had managed to grab from your home before your unplanned eviction.

“Why do you even stay with him Y/N? Why do you keep going back there?” Spencer yelled. You had never seen him like this before, so livid and irritable.

“I love him Spence, and he loves me,” you explained, and you were telling the truth. You do love Randall, and you know that in his heart he loves you too, even if he got a little angry sometimes.

“If he loved you he wouldn’t treat you like this Y/N! Don’t you think I would know? I see this everyday! It’s my job! And yet my best friend is too stupid to realize she’s been in an abusive relationship for almost 6 years!”

You were just as angry now, “You’re wrong Spencer, I don’t wanna hear this okay? I love Randall and he loves me. We deserve each other.”

Spencer’s face softened before growing angry once more, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fuck you Spencer, I’m going home. I don’t need you and I don't need your help,” you said, grabbing your things and slamming the door open. You were lying, you need Spencer and you need his help more than anything, but you didn’t want to admit that while he was being such a dick.

“Fine!” he yelled, “Go run back to him then, but you better not call me when he kicks you out again. I don’t care anymore!”

And so you left, Spencer slammed the door behind you as you stormed out of his apartment. You didn’t stop to think about the fact that Spencer never acts like this. He has never lashed out at you, never questioned your relationship with Randall to your face, let alone scream at you and insult you because of it. You didn’t stop and think about what Spencer was on, or not on, that was making his act like this.

But you thought about it now.

You want to get home before Randall starts to get upset and suspicious, but now after your fight with Spencer you have to walk home. You couldn’t ask him to borrow cash for a cab, let alone ask him to drive you there. You were stuck walking, which also meant you were stuck with Randall’s wrath when you returned.

You already feel terrible about the way you treated Spencer. You think about going to apologize, and stand in front of the door for a second, weighing the pros and cons of doing so. Eventually, you go to turn away, ultimately deciding that you both needed to calm down before speaking to each other again.

Yet as you turn, the door opens. Spencer stands right there, strangely calm, seemingly out of it. All fury and anger you had seen just minutes before gone. In this moment he resembles Randall, and it's the first time you’ve ever been able to draw any comparison to the two.

It’s scary.

“Spencer I-” but you get cut off, not by words, but by an object. Before you can even register what was just thrown in your face the door is closed again. You duck down to grab what was thrown.

Twenty dollars.

For the cab ride home.

1:34 AM, April 23rd, 2007.

You light the final candle on your dining room table, before stepping back to admire your work. Randall always came home so late from work, so you rarely ate dinner together. But today was your anniversary, so you stayed up late, prepared his favorite meal and set up all of your fancy dinnerware so that you could have a very late dinner together before he goes to bed and you go to work. He should be home any minute now.

Yet 3 hours later Randall is not back. You’re just about to cut your losses and call it a night, and start to clean up the melted down candles and cold steak dinner as you hear your front door open.

“Y/N! What are you doing still awake?”

“Do you know what day it is Randall? Because I do.”

He looks down at his watch, checks the time, and looks back up at you, “Well it is now 3:57 AM, meaning it is now Monday. Which is why I’m curious as to what you’re still doing up sweetheart, you have to be at work in 3 hours.” “There’s something special about THIS Monday Randall,” you sigh, you’re disappointed but not surprised, this has happened for the past 3 years.

“Do you have a project going on at work baby? You know I can’t keep track of all that crap, your job is so silly and easy to lose track of. You have to remind me of these things if you actually want me to care about them.”

“It’s our anniversary Randall.”

He stops, but instead of looking guilty or remorseful (like you secretly hoped), he gets livid, “No it’s not, are you stupid or something?”

“Randall, baby it’s okay, it’s not a big deal.”

“No! You stupid fucking bitch, are you trying to make me look bad, cooking this stupid fancy dinner and staying up late. Trying to lie and act like I forgot our five year anniversary?! Stop playing the victim Y/N. So tell me, are you lying to make me feel bad, or is your brain really that fucking empty?”

“It’s our six year anniversary,” you whisper.

“What did you just say?”

“I said I was just being stupid Randall. You’re right baby, I forgot the date of our anniversary.”

He snarls. “I don’t think so Y/N, I think, actually I know that not only are you stupid, but that you’re a liar. I know that you just want to make me look bad by preparing our anniversary dinner a week early. And you have to push it by claiming we’ve been together for six years. I know it’s five. I’m not stupid.”

“I’m sorry, babe,” you cry.

“NO YOU’RE NOT!” he yells, pushing his plate of steak and mashed potatoes, letting your parent’s wedding china shatter on the ground. You cry harder. “You’re a stupid, waste of my time Y/N. Five wasted years I’ve spent on you. Do you know why I do it, huh. Do you know why I stay with you when I could have one of the beautiful, rich, successful, truthful women I’m fucking?”

You shake your head.

“It’s because I feel pity for you. No other man would want you. I’m the only one that will ever love you. You know that right Y/N?” He picks up a piece of your hair, gently tucking it behind your ear. “Tell me that I’m the only one who will love you, you know it’s the truth right?” You nod your head. In a swift motion Randall turns, grabs a glass full of red wine and chucks it at the wall, narrowly avoiding your left ear.

“I WANT TO HEAR YOU SAY IT.”

“You’re the only one who will ever love me Randall,” you croak out in between sobs.

He closes the distance between you two once more, gripping your chin and jerking your face so that your eyes meant his. It hurts, and makes you cry more, but you don’t say anything.

“Don’t you know it sweetness,” he lets go, delivers a sharp slap to your check and grips your wrist. “Now clean your mess up, and then I think it’s best if you get out of the house for a little bit, don’t you agree?”

You nod quickly. He smiles.

“Good girl, now I would normally be worried about you going to hook up with that string bean you’re always all over, but according to the last time I went through your phone, he isn’t in your recent calls. Glad to know he’s finally done with your bullshit. I’m sure a nice long walk alone will do you good. You can think about what led you to lying tonight, and then maybe you can come back in time for our real anniversary.”

He slips upstairs, so you clean up the rest of the uneaten meal and the broken wine class, cutting up your hands severely in the process. You spend at least an hour in a futile attempt to get red wine stains off of your wallpaper, before grabbing your phone and purse and running out the door.

Even after what Randall says, you still think about calling Spencer. Your thumb hovers over the call button for a minute until you switch the contact, phoning your boss instead. You inform her you need a personal day, and that it’s a family emergency.

You check the time, 6:53. Spencer is almost definitely on his way to work right now. You want to call him so bad, but the things he said you ring through your mind. You can’t ask for his help anymore.

For the first time, you are truly on your own.

Until a familiar horizon blue Volvo pulls up next to the curb you’re sitting on, and Spencer Reid sticks his head out the window.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Get it the car, come on I’ll drive you to work with me.”

Confused as you are, this is your best option right now. So you climb into the passenger seat of his car, refusing to make eye contact with him, instead looking at your bleeding hands. “Oh my god, Y/N. You’re bleeding. Did Randall do this to you? Why didn’t you call me?”

“No, Spencer, Randall didn’t do this to me. He dropped a wine glass and I helped him pick it up. Now just drive.” And he does, drive that is. But you can feel his stares, on your cut up hands, and you forming bruises. You can feel him profiling the signs of abuse on your body.

But more than that you hate that you can feel he’s upset with you. Upset because you didn’t call him. Does he not remember screaming at you not too?

He pulls into the parking lot, parks the car and finally turns to make eye contact with you. He has tears in his, “I really wish you would’ve called me Y/N. If it’s getting this bad I want you to stay with me.”

“Spencer am I going insane?”

“Of course not, what do you mean?” he looks so gentle, so kind and you’re so confused.

“Do you remember what day me and Randall started dating?”

“Yes, it was April 23rd, 2001. 6 years ago today actually. Is that why he did this to you? Does it have anything to do with that?”

“How can you remember that but not our screaming match a week ago?” you laughed, your hands burned now, there’s definitely glass in there, you swear you can feel the tiny little shards in your blood.

“What do you mean, Y/N? We didn’t scream at each other? I haven’t even seen you in weeks. How long has he been hitting you? Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“Spencer, on the 16th you picked me up and took me back to your apartment because Randall kicked me out. On the evening of the 17th I went to leave because Randall told me I could come home. You said I was being abused and called me stupid for going back to him. When we fought about it I stormed out and you told me not to call you if he kicked me out again because you didn’t care anymore. That’s why I didn’t call you.”

You look up at Spencer, and nearly start crying yourself when you see his crumpled face. Tears are freely spilling down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry Y/N. I don’t remember that,” he pushes his long hair out of his face, clearly frazzled, “I- I can’t believe I don’t remember that.”

Before you can say anything, Spencer pulls out his phone. “Hey Hotch, it’s me. I can’t come in today. I need to use a personal day. . . I’ll tell you later. Okay, thank you” He angrily pulls out of the parking lot, and you can tell he’s headed back to his apartment.

“Spencer it’s okay, I’m not upset with you.”

“No Y/N, it’s not okay. I said all those terrible things to you, of course you were scared to call me after them. The worst part is I was too high to even remember it all. I- I just can’t believe I helped him do this to you,” tears still freely flowing down his face.

“Spencer what are you talking about? I was with you all day, you weren’t high. You don’t even drink, how could you be high?”

He sighs, “do you remember when I was kidnapped by that unsub, Tobias Hankel? About 2 months ago?” You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Well, I told you about his multiple personalities, how one beat me to death and then Tobias resurrected me, how  I had to kill Tobias in order to survive, even though Tobias himself did nothing to me. Well when I was in the barn, Tobias would give me drugs, dilaudid, in order to cut the pain of his other personalities’ abuse. When I killed him, I took the drugs he had one him with me, and I can’t stop Y/N. It’s affecting my life, my work, and now it’s affecting you.” He parks his car in his apartment complex’s lot and turns to look at you. “Hotch has never said anything about it, so even though the team knows I have no reason to quit, I think I do now. Y/N, I think we need to get clean together.”

Suddenly that night made sense, Spencer was irritable and strange, he wasn’t high, he was going through withdrawal. But when he threw the money at you, so loopy and out of it, he was on it. He was so high he didn’t remember the moments before.

“Spencer, I don't know what to say. I want to help you get sober, I want that more than anything, but I’m not addicted to drugs, I rarely even drink.”

“I know Y/N, you don’t have a drug problem like me, but you are an addict. You need to leave Randall. You know it, I know it, but you can’t.” You open your mouth to defend yourself, but Spencer continues to speak, “It’s okay, I understand why. But we both need to quit, and I think it’s best if we do it together.”

“Well how are we supposed to do that,” you whisper.

“Come on, let’s get started,” you and Spencer exit his car, he loops your hands together, leading you up to his apartment. When you get there, he digs through his messenger bag and grabs a couple of tiny glass bottles and a syringe. He throws them into his garbage can, and turns to look at you.

“Pull out your phone.”

“What? Why?”

“We’re going to block Randall’s number.”

You want to fight him on it, but you know he’s right. You need to leave Randall, and now’s as good of a time as any. Yet, you can’t forget the things he’s said to you. “I can’t Spencer, he’s my boyfriend, he loves me.”

“Y/N, please, please do this with me.” You shake your head, he sighs. “Okay, I get it, this is going to take time. Just, um, stay with me for a couple days. Please. We can go get your stuff tomorrow night.”

You think about rejecting Spencer’s offer, but you really don’t want to go back there. More than anything, you want to stay right here. You try to tell yourself it’s because you’re worried about Spencer, but deep down you know it’s more than that. So you nod, and Spencer wraps you in a hug, burying his head into your shoulder.

“Thank you, Y/N. Now let’s go get your hands wrapped up.”

9:21 PM, May 2nd, 2007.

You’ve been staying at Spencer’s for just over a week now. You haven’t seen Randall since your anniversary, and Spencer hasn’t taken dilaudid while you’ve been here. Things are going well. You’re watching a lot of bad reality TV, and Spencer has gone through about 7 packs of Gatorade, but you’re both doing okay.

Now you were just waiting for him to come back from his case in Idaho, you knew this one was pretty bad. They were searching for a woman in the middle of a huge forest, as she was being hunted and chased down. Spencer called you right before getting on the jet, and told you he would be home soon, so now you were just waiting for him.

While doing so however, you found something. A lump on Spencer’s side of the mattress. Under it, were two small glass bottles and a syringe. The same ones you had seen Spencer throw into the garbage days prior.

Now you need to talk to Spencer, so you sit on his couch, and wait for him to come home. When he comes through the door, he immediately sees you and smiles. “Y/N! I’ve missed you.” He hugs you, and for a second you forget why you’re even mad at him in the first place.

“Spencer, I need to talk to you. I found your bottles.” The mood in the room instantly shifts, but you don’t care, you need to get your words out. “You told me you were quitting, I watched you throw them away.”

He brushes his hairs through his hair, and begins to mess with his hands. “I am quitting Y/N, I haven't taken any, but. . .  I just need them to be there.”

“Spencer, please, throw them away. I’m trying to help you here.” Suddenly he grows very angry, and you can tell you said the wrong thing.

“Well I’m trying too. To me it seems the only one not trying is you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you still haven’t blocked Randall, he still calls all the time! Why do I have to throw my addiction away if you can’t even do the same to yours?”

“That's not fair.”

“How so?” he yells. “How is it that you can’t block your abusive, no good piece of shit boyfriend but I have to throw away the things I enjoy? That doesn’t feel like trying to me.”

“I’m not addicted to Randall Spencer, I just love him. I don’t want or need to quit him.”

“Oh really? Then why are you even still here? Why haven’t you answered his calls? Or gone to see him? I think you know exactly why.”

And you do. You don’t want to go back there, but what Randall says is true. He is the only one who will love you, and you’re not ready to lose that yet. You’re not ready to cut off all contact with him.

“I can leave if that’s what you want Spencer.”

His face softened, “no, that’s not what I want. That’s the last thing I want.” He stops and thinks for a moment. “If you block Randall I’ll throw away my dilaudid.”

You ponder it, “Okay.”

He breaks into a wide smile. “Really? You’ll do it?”

You smile at him.

“Yeah, I promise. I’ll block Randall.”

6:56 PM, May 30th, 2007.

You did not block Randall.

Even after watching Spencer pour out his bottles, breaking up the glass and tossing it away for a second time, you couldn’t. Even after seeing him snap his syringes in half, and feeling him kiss your forehead, after seeing how happy and excited he was for your fresh start together, you just couldn’t do it.

Spencer thought you did, and it was easy to hide the truth from him. Randall hadn’t called since then, so you and Spencer continue to spend time together, last week you celebrated one month of sobriety. You got an ice cream cake and little, silly party hats and exchanged gifts.

And it made you feel like shit.

Spencer was so happy, so proud that you had both been clean for a month, but you still couldn’t decide if you wanted to be clean at all.

You still can’t decide if you should block Randall’s number.  

You try not to think about it, instead focusing the energy into making you and Spencer virgin pina coladas, he was currently out picking up burgers from your favorite restaurant. When he returns, you were going to watch one of your crappy reality TV reruns, and then an episode of Doctor Who. It was Spencer’s idea a couple days ago, and quickly it became a regular occurrence.

Faintly over the loud whir of the blender you can hear your phone ringing. You run  quickly to go grab it, just in case Spencer needed your help with something, but your heart drops when you see the caller ID. It’s Randall, trying once again to contact you.

Your thumb hovers over the accept button, but before you can make a decision, the call times out and sends Randall to voicemail. You let out a breath and set your phone down.

But then something possesses you, and you snatch your phone and dial Randall’s number. He picks up on the 3rd ring.

“Baby, oh my god baby is that really you?”

He sounds so excited to hear from you, how could you have stayed mad at him for so long?

“Yes baby, it’s me. I’m sorry I haven’t answered your calls at all. I’ve been busy.”

“Don’t worry sweetness, I’m so so sorry for the things I said to you, I need you to come home. You missed our anniversary you know? But it’s okay! We can celebrate now! I got you a really beautiful gift, one we can definitely experiment with tonight.” You could hear his smirk over the phone.

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to come back right now, maybe later baby, but not right now.”

You hear his breathing pick up, and tense. You can tell he’s getting agitated. He wasn’t expecting you to answer like that, you always come home as soon as he tells you you can come back. “What do you mean? You’re being ridiculous, I want to see my girlfriend. I’m sure you want to get off of the streets too, you’ve been squatting for over a month now.”

“I’m not squatting Randall, I’m living with Spencer.”

“What!?” he yells. “I thought I told you not to stay with him. I hate that guy, you know that.”

“Would you rather me be on the streets Randall? Spencer’s a great guy, and I want to stay here.”

“Frankly, yes I would. But don’t worry, you can still come home. Just send me the prick’s address and I’ll come pick you up. We can enjoy tonight together.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not going to send you Spencer’s address. I’m staying here. I don’t want to see you anymore. Leave me alone Randall. I’m done.”

Before he could say anything, you hung up. As you did so you heard the front door open, and Spencer made his way to the bedroom.

“Hey! I got burgers! Ready to eat?” he looks down to see your phone still resting in your hand, stuck on the phone app. “Who were you talking to?”

“Just an old friend,” you say.

“Think you’ll be talking to them again anytime soon?” you can tell he knows, and you’re surprised he isn’t lashing out at you. You’re so used to how Randall reacts when you go against his wishes, Spencer’s calm, understanding presence is like a breath of fresh air.

“No, I think I’m ready to leave them behind,” you smile at each other. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a sec okay?”

He nods, and goes to set up the food and TV.

It takes you seven seconds to block Randall.

1:12 AM, June 10th, 2007.

You haven’t gone out with your coworkers in months, you forgot how good it feels to just be present with people. You didn’t even drink tonight, wanting to remember every second of this time out with friends. You were beaming when you unlocked the front door.

Yet your smile slips when you enter what had become you and Spencer’s shared bedroom.

He isn’t there.

You pull out your phone to call him when you hear a thud coming from the bathroom door. You hesitate, scared of what you know you’ll likely find. When you finally throw the door open you’re already teary eyed, and these sobs escalate as soon as you see Spencer, tipped over, lying on the bathroom floor, the needle still sticking out of his arm.

You’re sobbing as you rip it out, hastily undoing the belt wrapped around his upper forearm. He looks up, even in his groggy haze you can see the guilty look in his eyes when they made contact with yours.

“Y/N. . . I- I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me but I just couldn’t stop myself . . . I-”

“Shhh, It’s okay, just breathe,” you whisper through your tears. “It’s going to be okay Spencer, I’m here, and it’s going to be okay. I’m staying right here.” You pull his head into your lap, stroking your shaking hands through his hair.

His head begins to shake, and you can feel his tears on your dress. You rest your head on his, and for a few seconds you just sit there, crying together.

“You’re going to be okay Spencer.”

8:09 AM, June 11th, 2007.

Your head is buried in his chest, you need to be able to hear him breathe. You need to hear his heart beating. You need to be as close to him as possible right now. He stirs as he wakes up, and wraps his arms around you. 

“I’m so sorry Y/N.”

“Don’t apologize Spencer, this is a part of recovery okay? You’re still in recovery, just because you relapsed doesn’t mean we have to start over. You’re so much stronger than you were before. So much braver. So much better. You can do this.”

He smiles at you, “thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course, now withdrawal is going to be even harder this time. I’m going to the store. We’re going to need plenty of Gatorade and water. We have to flush everything out of your system. Do you mind if I take your car to the store?”

He beams, even in his groggy state he manages to look so perfect, “You know my car is always yours to use Y/N.”

“I’ll be back soon okay? Don’t move a muscle,” you grab his keys and head out the door. And you really do mean it, you fully intend this to be the shortest grocery trip of your life. You’re terrified of leaving Spencer alone long enough to get high again, even though you spent all day yesterday searching for drugs and throwing anything you found in the garbage, taking it out the main apartment dumpster that night. 

You get to the store, grab everything you need, 3 packs of blue Gatorade, 6 cases of water bottles, and the store’s entire stock of Jell-O and rush back to Spencer’s car. You were only in the store for 17 minutes, the majority of which was just check-out time. You smile, thinking of how excited Spencer will be when he sees all the Jell-O in the fridge, but feel your stomach drop when you see a familiar face examining Spencer’s car.

Randall. 

Before you can decide what to do, he turns and sees you. 

“Y/N! I was expecting Spencer, but this is even sweeter. I knew I recognized this hunk of junk. Where have you been?”

“I’ve been around, I’m kind of on a tight schedule here. I really need to get going,” you say as you load up your groceries into Spencer’s trunk. 

“That’s a lot of Jell-O sweetheart, you hate Jell-O.” That’s not even true. You hate pudding, you love Jell-O.

As much as you wanted to yell at him for calling you sweetheart, you couldn’t deny that it felt good. You still missed him. Blocking him helped, but you still felt strong urges to call him sometimes. “It’s not for me, it’s for Spencer.”

“I thought I told you not to stay with him anymore.”

“What part of that conversation would make you think I would listen to you?” you say.

“You should always listen to me Y/N, I’m your boyfriend.”

“I haven’t seen you in months, we’re not dating anymore. I’m done.”

“You don’t mean that you’re just being irrational. Are you on your period? I bet that’s it. Come get breakfast with me. You probably just need chocolate, and the place down the block has incredible chocolate waffles.”

You open your mouth to reject him, but you can’t. Part of it is because you know if you do then he’ll follow you back to your apartment and the last thing you want is for him to know where you’re living right now. But the other part is much worse. A big part of you wants to let him try again. You can’t explain why, but you really want for him to redeem himself as your first love.

“Ok, you have 20 minutes, let’s go get breakfast.”

The walk there is silent and awkward. Randall grabs your hand, too tight for you to do anything about it, and keeps this grip until you sit down in your booth. 

You don’t get chocolate waffles. You really don’t even like chocolate all that much. Randall knows that, or at least you thought he did. Instead you get cinnamon french toast, and within minutes it’s at the table. 

“You know baby, Spencer doesn’t love you.” He says halfway through your french toast.

“We aren’t dating Randall.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve been with him in that apartment for a while now. I’m surprised he hasn’t given you the boot.”

You sit in silence, Randall takes this as a sign to continue. “We’ve been together for five years, sweetness. No one can love you the way I do. That’s just a fact. Spencer fucking Reid can not replace me, no one can replace me.”

“I hate that you’re right. I hate that I can’t breathe when I’m not with you Randall. I hate that you’re stuck to me. You’re this god awful stain on my life. I hate looking at it but no matter what I do I can’t wash it off.”

He smirks. “You’re not gonna get rid of me Y/N.” He pays the check, and gets up from the table. You go to get up too, but notice he didn’t tip your waitress, so you leave another five bucks on the table. 

When you get outside he grasps your shoulders. “I knew you would come around Y/N, I knew you would get it. Now come on, we can go collect your stuff from that prick’s apartment and get you home. I know exactly how you can make it up to me.”

You pause, “I don’t think so Randall. I’m not ready quite yet, but I promise I’ll call you.” You meant it, you had already unblocked him from your phone.

“Oh absolutely not, you’re going home with me now.”

“No I’m not.” As you were yelling at each other you notice a strangely familiar face standing nearby, just in ear shot. You can’t place him, but you know you’ve met before.

“Yes you are! We’re happy together and you’re coming to live with me again!”

“We don’t love each other, Randall! Not right now at least!” 

He’s livid, and once again you feel that scared, indescribable feeling in the pit of your stomach. “That’s not true! I’ll prove it to you.” He grabs your chin and pulls your face to his.

You feel as if water is filling your lungs, you’re drowning and no one is around to save you. Randall is physically stronger than you, you’re stuck in his grasp. It’s like you’re screaming and no one can hear you. 

And yet, this flood of emotions you’re feeling is the first time you realize something. 

You’re addicted to Randall.

You need to get out.

You need to get back to Spencer.

After what feels like minutes (but is actually about 3 seconds) of being unseen and vulnerable, you discover you’ve been protected the whole time. The man you can't place rips Randall off of you, “What’s wrong with you? Get off of her!”

It’s his voice that lets you place him. Derek Morgan, Spencer’s closest friend and coworker, punches Randall in the face. “Get out of here!”

“What the fuck is wrong with YOU? That’s my girlfriend! Sweetheart, tell him to leave us alone!”

They both turn and look at you, with tears in your eyes you look at Morgan and shake your head. “Please, get him to leave.”

And Morgan does just that, with a little yelling and a flash of his FBI badge, Randall is running for the hills.

“Come on baby girl, let’s get you back home. Did you walk here?”

You shake your head, “No, I drove Spencer’s car here.”

“Well, how bout I drive you home, and then afterwards I swing back and get Spencer’s car and drop it off?”

So you do just that. After profusely thanking Morgan, and him insisting that it was nothing, and also insisting to carry your groceries in from the car, you and Spencer are together once again. 

“I’m so sorry Spencer, I didn’t believe you before. I was going to go back to him. How could I be so stupid?”

“Don’t talk like that Y/N, you said it best yourself. Just because you relapse doesn’t mean you aren’t trying, and it most certainly doesn’t mean you’re stupid.”

“I think it’s time we get clean Spencer. Both of us, once and for all.”

“I think so too Y/N.”

He pulls you into a hug and in between sniffles you manage to choke out what you’ve been wanting to say since you got into Morgan’s car. “I love you.”

He looks at you, and the look in his eyes almost makes you cry out of pure joy. He looks so happy, as if he’s been waiting for you to say that for years. 

Maybe he has.

“I love you too.”

7:29 AM, April 16th, 2008.

You press your lips to Spencer’s, you know he has just woken up, but you know it’s a big day for him. 

You both have been sober for over ten months now. Today is the day of his first group meeting. He found Beltway Clean Cops recently, and has been so excited to go. You’re excited for him. You know how proud he is of you, and you want to show him in every way possible that you’re proud of him.

He opens his eyes and smiles up at you. “What did I deserve to get a wake up like that?”

“What kind of question is that? You’re incredible, and an incredible boyfriend deserves an incredible morning. Do you know what else he deserves?”

He hums and waits for the answer.

“An incredible breakfast! That’s why I made blueberry pancakes. Now hurry up and come eat. You should  leave soon if you want to make it to your meeting on time. Have I told you yet how incredibly proud I am of you?”

He smiles, “Only an average of 15.6 times a day since I told you I was going.”

“Well that’s not nearly enough, now come on, get up. It’s pancake time,” you say. “Oh, and Spencer?”

“Yes flower?”

“I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles, “I love you flower.”

“I love you more.”

You ate breakfast together and then forced Spencer out the door, making sure he had plenty of time to get to his meeting. You knew he would regret it if he was late. 

You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you still thought about Randall a lot. You still missed him. You still love him in a way. But now that you had Spencer, now that you were clean together, you would never risk going back to him. 

That day where you agreed to go to breakfast with him, Derek asked you if you wanted to press charges. You didn’t, you don’t regret that either.

You’re even more proud of yourself this way, because you know he’s still there, still accessible and available to you, and still didn’t run to him. You know that any trace of Randall in your future is gone. 

You know you and Spencer are finally clean.

“Ten months sober, I must admit Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it Ten months older I won't give in Now that I'm clean I'm never gonna risk it”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #spencerreidxreader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #reid x reader #criminal minds reid #reid fanfic #reid #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds spencer reid #criminal minds angst

[humankoalaa]

some of the takes on tonight’s episode have been so sad. the show isn’t turning jay into voight. they simply made him be the leader/man he’s been this entire time.

voight has always been one of my favorite characters because there is always a method to his madness. he loves his unit and everyone working in it. he has done the unthinkable to save their asses many many times.

however, he has also put their careers on the line too many times by being reckless and well dumb sometimes. this situation is the absolute worst because had he thought about everything roy did, he should’ve known miller likely would’ve understood why he was brought in beat up or dead.

covering this all up is the most ooc thing they’ve ever had voight do. police reform or not, voight isn’t an idiot. dumb at times but he is no idiot. we’ve seen him blink his way out of worst situations.

what jay did was put the entire team before himself. he did something he didn’t want to do yes, for the woman he loves but also for a boss, team, and unit that he loves. a boss, unit and woman who has stood by him regardless, and he the same.

this show has always been incredible. the characters and stories are the best i have seen on a television series now in their 9th season. what these writers etc are doing isn’t easy. these actors although acting have had to go to some terrible places for these storylines. they deserve so much more credit than the slander they receive.

just because you don’t like what a character does, especially when it’s one of your favorite characters, it doesn’t mean it’s “ooc” or “stupid” it’s literally the ins and outs of life, and what we all go through the high and lows and what we’re willing and unwilling to do when you have no idea what to do.

for years people have complained about jay being too soft or annoying because of who he is at his core. at his core he’s a man that is flawed, apologetically too loyal and the textbook definition of driven by emotions which is not always a good thing.

i say apologetically because jesse is excellent at conveying all of jay’s internal feelings without saying a word. however, it’s when he does speak that makes some of the scenes where he battling conflicts internally so painful to watch.

we hear him saying one thing, but his voice and facial expressions tell the whole and actual truth. he has let himself down over and over again for the sake of the unit/voight more than any other character outside of Al who paid the ultimate price. no, i am not blaming voight for Al’s death. im just using the example because we all know what happened and why things went down the way that they did.

for jay, its never just been about good or bad or right or wrong . nothing is ever “that simple” for jay. it’s always been about trying more than anything. trying to find the best possible way whether it be to get justice or protecting the people and things that he loves. it’s about learning from mistakes and trying not to make/turn mistakes into habits. when he’s all tried out is when he becomes a liability. his emotions get the best of him causing him to lose the patience, vision, and understanding that we see from him when he knows “okay, there is another and/or better way” etc.

every current cop in intelligence right now has done some outlandish nonsense for one reason or another. jay and kevin are and remain the only two who have been the least selfish and/or never not showed remorse for their outlandish nonsense. if they have ever done anything for their sole benefit, it was so minute it was forgetful.

jay doesn’t always listen to voight and it’s sometimes for the best. most times when he doesn’t listen it results in chaos. in this case, he was never going to listen to voight and give him up. had he done that, that would’ve been the most selfish out of character thing he’s ever done. it would have been lazy storytelling. in this case being driven by his emotions motivated him in a way we have never seen before and i think that’s what people are struggling with.

one of the most beautiful parts of the entire episode is they FINALLY showed us what jay has said over and over again in so many different ways… he loves voight…. it might actually be the most simple part of jays existence now that i think about it.

when you actually listen and breakdown what he did, it IS the most jay halstead thing he could have ever done. he did it HIS way in the end. he can look himself, his wife, the unit, especially his boss in the eyes knowing he did the one thing he knows he can live with and they are all going to be okay because of it.

#chicago pd #jay halstead #hailey upton #hank voight #hailey halstead #one chicago spoilers

[dynyamight]

(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) bkdk 38 plsssss

send a number & i'll write a bkdk drabble about it

5. “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Midoriya can handle most things, pretty well. With his built pain tolerance, he’s able to withstand and undergo even the most agonizing experiences, that surely many other would have fell dead to.

Though, the blood bank begs to differ.

Bouncing his leg rapidly, Midoriya waits inside one of the school’s nursing beds. The curtains surround him entirely, as Doctor Chiyo has her trustee phlebotomist deal with Mineta, his paired partner from seating arrangements.

As hero students, they are expected to help donate their blood to the people in need. And, I’m pairs, they have been sent to Doctor Chiyo’s office to get their blood drawn.

‘Sent to my demise’, Midoriya thinks.

He has been waiting for awhile now. But, it seems as if both the technician and Mineta are now chatting with each other, delving deep into their shared interests and the medical field.

Well, it’s more like Mineta’s uncomfortably trying to pressure the technician into giving him her number, to learn more about the human body. And, she’s rejecting him, hard.

In truth, Midoriya doesn’t mind being holed up here. He’s actually hoping those two can continue their conversation, so he can sneak right out.

Because, being a blood type O means that Midoriya has to undergo a long blood draw, unlike most. One that always leaves him utterly dizzy and sick to his stomach. Heck, just thinking about it is leaving him already unsettled, anxious once more.

And, the longer he goes unnoticed, the higher chance he could step out of the nurse’s office, and head back to class. Unharmed.

The front curtains loudly slide open, and Midoriya’s abruptly met with sharp red eyes, taken aback right back at him. “K-Kacchan?” Midoriya coughs out.

For a split second, Bakugou’s face is completely slackened, surprise softening his sharp features. But then, it disappears in an instant, a pointed, glaring expression settles, instead.

“Hey, Midoriya!” Hagakure’s gloved hand peeks over his shoulders, waving wildly in the air. “Aizawa thought you two would be done already, so he sent us out over for our blood draws!”

Oh. Midoriya nods, and quickly reverts his attention back to Bakugou.

Bakugou clicks his tongue, gaze already turned away. “You said this was empty, extra.” He grumbles under his breath. Hagakure awkwardly laughs.

Mineta steps out behind the two classmates, though a fairly round red bump is evident on his forehead. “Sorry for the hold up! I didn’t mean to go over your time, Midoriya.”

And, just like that, the sinking feeling drops his heart down to the foot of the bed. “O-Oh, that’s okay! No worries!”

“I promise I’ll let Aizawa know you’re still in here.” Mineta reassures him, before stepping out of the office.

“I call dibs!” Hagakure giggles, rushing immediately to the available nurse’s bed across the office, left by Mineta. She hurriedly closes her curtains, leaving behind Bakugou to wait by Midoriya’s.

It all happens so fast after that. Bakugou gives him one last look, scanning all over his face, before he steps aside. Both Doctor Chiyo and her technician shuffle inside, greeting him and offering their sorry’s for the delay.

Midoriya’s asked many questions, all of which he he answers, with a tremor in his voice. His lifestyle. His health. His quirk. His possible risks for infections.

The phlebotomist inquires if he’s eaten, before arriving. And, other than last night’s dinner, Midoriya knows he’s eaten a couple of apple slices during breaks.

So, he says he has.

And just like that, he’s suddenly asked to roll up his sleeve. “I’m going to wipe the inside of your arm down with an alcohol pad. But, after that, I’m going to tightly tape you up, and insert the needle.” She states nonchalantly.

Midoriya wants to vomit.

And, he starts getting already light headed, by the time the technician starts to slide in her gloves, with Doctor Chiyo directing her towards the side tray they have their supplies.

One of which, was the long needle and its tube end, teasing him.

A nudge to his shoulder blinks Midoriya out of focus. He looks over, only to be surprised to see Bakugou has seated himself close, right next to him.

Before he can breath out anything, Bakugou narrows his eyes. “Your face is pale and you’re shaking.” He huffs out, in a whisper. “You’ve dealt with worse, you know.”

Midoriya rolls his eyes. “It’s still scary.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be. Now, that you’re not dealing with it alone.”

Midoriya feels the corner of his wobbly lips upturn. He feels fluttery. “Thanks.” He mumbles back.

“So, because you are a type O,” the technician speaks over them, alerting both of their attention back to the matter at hand. “We’re going to try and take as much as we can from you. If you start feeling weak and dizzy, please let us know.”

Sweat builds up at the collar of his neck. “Y-Yeah. Okay.” He barely wheezes out.

A gloved hand pulls his forearm taunt, with the other holding to the needle. “I promise it won’t hurt.”

It always does. Midoriya simply nods.

He looks away to avoid staring at the puncture, but he nevertheless feels when the needle pricks his skin, deep. It wells a blurry vision in his eyes, and it causes his entire body to cease tight.

However, Bakugou’s hand is on his shoulder, rubbing side to side. Midoriya desperately tries to focus on that comforting pressure, instead of the odd one at his forearm.

He always wishes the blood drawing could end in seconds, but that’s only wishful thinking.

Yet, Midoriya doesn’t realize he’s losing conscious until Bakugou’s trying to jostle him upright. His hand on his shoulder is now suddenly on his back, supporting him fully.

Actually, Midoriya’s body is slacking, moving off to the side of the bed.

Midoriya barely hears Doctor Chiyo calling out his name, and suddenly, his vision goes black.

When he opens his eyes, Midoriya notices both the phlebotomist and Doctor Chiyo are no longer at his left. The side tray is missing, and instead of a needle inserted into his arm, there’s a bandage covering the site.

“You fainted.” Bakugou deadpans.

Midoriya sighs, shifting his gaze to his right. Of course, he did. “For how long?” He asks over to him.

Bakugou shrugs, pulling up his sleeve. An identical bandage was wrapped around his forearm. “Enough for them to steal my fucking blood.”

“They take your blood.” Midoriya corrects, smiling ever so slightly. “They steal mine.”

“Not my fault you won the damn blood lottery.”

“Well, I doubt it’s winning, when I hate every second of it.”

A thought visibly passes through Bakugou, and immediately he deep digs into his pockets. Midoriya wants to ask, but he’s already hit smacked in the face with it.

Flopped down at his lap is a huge plastic wrapped cookie. Chocolate chip. Scrumptious.

“The old hag said to eat that, before you start walking.” Bakugou mentions, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “Something about eating sugar to wake you up.”

Midoriya feels his smile widen. “You’re being awfully nice today.”

“It’s from the damn doctor and that bitch ass assistant.” Bakugou grumbles.

Though, he doesn’t deny what Midoriya just said. It makes him bubbly inside. “You say that, but you could have went back to class.” He states, as he starts pulling the wrapper apart.

“How? You fainted straight into my arms.”

The plastic breaks, in sync to the blush that breaks out throughout his face. “No, I didn’t!” Midoriya incredulously insists.

“Yeah, you did.” Bakugou snorts, sitting himself up in his chair. He gets up, only to lean in close to Midoriya’s space. “You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

A whistling echoes inside his ears, as Midoriya tries to defend himself. “I-I wouldn’t want your attention this way, Kacchan.” He stutters out, though the wave in his voice doesn’t make it sound at all confident.

Bakugou pinches the side of his cheek. “Look at you. The rest of your blood is flowing up to your dumb face.”

He knows Bakugou’s only mocking him, but it still makes his poor, whipped heart somersault. “S-Stop looking, then.”

“Nah.” Midoriya feels the pinch let go, though instead Bakugou stares at him, fully. “S’cute.”

And, Bakugou leaves him just like that. Mentions he’s going back to class. Promises to share his notes with Midoriya. Meet up in the common room, after class. And, eat up his damn, shitty cookie.

It takes a long moment for Midoriya to process what exactly Bakugou said, before all that. And, when Midoriya does, he short circuits terribly.

#star responds #it's literally canon that midoriya has blood type o #& hence all the blood banks want him ASAP #plus i wanted to write something dumb & silly for this prompt !! #hope you two are fullfilled of some bkdk love #bakudeku #anon #lilycristalwolf #FICLET

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 14 first part

(RR The Untamed Masterpost) (Canary’s Pinboard - more Masterposts) 

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Murder Turtle, Continued

Lan Wangji wakes up after a good night's sleep leaning against a rock wall, to find that his leg is no longer splinted, and his perfectly clean and unbloody headband has been put back on his head while he was sleeping.

Leaving aside the "not waking up" part of things, how, exactly, did Wei Wuxian get his headband on without mussing his hair? Did he bring a crochet hook?

Wei Wuxian gives him a sitrep and then they cozy up and have an extended conversation about the nature and history of the Tortoise of Slaughter. Wei Wuxian is interested in everything Lan Wangji has to say, and Lan Wangji talks a lot more than usual; they are completely on the same wavelength here and are enjoying swapping obscure knowledge.

Lan Wangji: My lacerated leg and I are actually super aware that it has big teeth, but thanks for the reminder.

In the course of the conversation, Wei Wuxian mentions his plan to 1. sneak into the tortoise's shell and 2. drive it out of its shell so they can attack it. 

OP did a little tortoise research and learned that the only species of turtle that can leave its shell is the Koopa Troopa.

Good news for Wei Wuxian: If you jump on its shell in the right spot, you can rack up a pile of extra lives.

Does that make the Tortoise of Slaughter a giant Koopa Troopa? Perhaps...the king of the Koopa Troopas?

I'm gonna say yes.

(More after the cut)

Let’s Go Killing

Wei Wuxian is exhilarated by the idea of fighting a giant dangerous monster with Lan Wangji. Some day Wei Wuxian will found the Nike clan, because his motto is definitely "Just do it." 

It's sweet how, in his romantic notions about chivalry and Lan Wangji, he's completely elided the original reason they were (sort of) told to venture together. 

Wei Wuxian: I'm still on the "find the Yin Iron" quest; I'm just skipping the "suppress it" part.  

Wei Wuxian weighs up their chances against Bowser and tells Lan Wangji that even if they die, it will be badass to be killed by a famous monster, so they won't have to feel embarrassed.

This is the exact moment that Lan Wangji's feelings for Wei Wuxian go from "smitten" to "gagging for it."

Lan Wangji: as soon as we get out of here I'm going to borrow a whole lot of books from Nie Huaisang

The boys come up with a plan that involves a rather long montage of collecting archery equipment and deconstructing it. This potentially-dull montage is fun to watch because they are both very, very good looking.

Artists who want to draw Wang Yibo as an elven archer, this is your episode.

Now we suddenly have, with zero explanation, telepathy. Ok, sure. It seems to work kind of like a phone conversation, in which they say specific things to each other, rather than like Cherry Magic telepathy where you can hear everything the other person is thinking. Or at least, neither of them is embarrassed, so I assume they are maintaining some mental privacy.

Club Ruohan

Same, Wen Chao, same

At some point there is a boring sequence at Club Ruohan.  Wen Ruohan doesn't know where Xue Yang is, but really wants his hunk of Yin Iron. Wen Chao thinks that WRH's 3 pieces of Yin Iron should be able to beat Xue Yang's 1 piece, but apparently he is dumb and that is not how math works. O...kay? OP does not understand this either but whatever, Wen Ruohan is boring, moving on. This scene is really just here to make us think about Yin Iron before Wei Wuxian jumps into Bowser's shell.

Bigger On The Inside

So then Wei Wuxian climbs into Bowser's shell, which is, to quote The 12th Doctor, bigger on the inside.

Bowser’s shell is the approximate size of my entire house. It is also bathed in a hellish pure red photo filter, which OP has done her best to remove for these gifs, because it gives me eye strain and it obscures Xiao Zhan's hotness.

Camera Operator: What did I do? 

Wei Wuxian wanders around inside, finding random corpses encased in slime cocoons. Tortoise, spider, xenomorph, whatever. There are also random curtain things hanging all over, and then at one point Wei Wuxian stares into the face of a corpse, and then does a jump scare response at the camera operator even though nothing particular happened. 

I imagine the corpse was supposed to open its eyes and say "killl meeee" but it got censored. He also makes about 8 other faces at the camera operator, so we get that the inside of this TARDIS-like tortoise shell (must...resist...temptation...to...say...TORDIS) is yucky.

Lan Wangji waits outside listening to Wei Wuxian telepathically complain about the smell.  He is anxiously clenching a bundle of string and an arrow, and wishing he could clench Wei Wuxian Bichen instead.

Serendipitous Yin Iron

Wei Wuxian backs his way through the TORDIS until his butt bumps into a sword that is steaming with resentful energy. That's right: Wei Wuxian is about to pull a piece of Yin Iron almost literally out of his ass.

He grabs it and is overwhelmed by its screaming resentful energy and has to let it go again.

So this is what a vibrator with 4 batteries feels like

When Bowser comes looking for him, however, he quickly decides to go for it, grabbing the sword and singing "I've Got the Power (Gonna Make You Sweat)"

Wei Wuxian plunges the sword into Bowser's lower jaw, and Bowser pulls his entire head out of his shell with Wei Wuxian attached, while leaving the rest of his body and all rational laws of physics inside the shell.

Gamera Versus the Cultivators

What follows is one of the more ridiculous action sequences in the history of the world, and I say that as someone who likes Mothra movies. 

Wei Wuxian hovers in a perfect horizontal plank while “hanging from” the sword, which is held well below the level of his torso. While Bowser spins him around. For much of the time, Bowser keeps his head still and just waves his neck around.

Lan Wangji and the camera operator do everything they possibly can to make "guy pulls on string" look interesting. 

Everybody tries really, really hard and the actors are great at pretending something is there when it isn't, but this whole sequence is just horribly conceived.

What works well, though, is the Yin energy and Wei Wuxian's wrangling of it. He starts off being frightened and overwhelmed, and looking like it's too much for him; I dont' know if they made his face puffy on purpose or if that's just what happens when you spend days hanging from the ceiling fighting an imaginary monster. But he looks slack and unwell as he grapples with the iron sword.

Which makes this moment, when he gets control of it, deliciously creepy. He uses the power of the Yin Iron to stick a bunch of pokey things into Bowser's neck.

Lan Wangji has seen him struggling and now sees him...not struggling. Which scares the piss out of him, and he moves to finish the fight as quickly as possible, slicing up his hand and breaking the string. Combined with the pokey things, this does the trick and Bowser dies while Wei Wuxian faints and falls into the water.

Do the Whumpty Whump

Lan Wangji rescues him and wakes him up, and Wei Wuxian clutches the Yin Iron sword and tells Lan Wangji that he was knocked out by the screaming of disembodied voices.

This certainly sounds like a strange and dangerous phenomenon, so Lan Wangji carefully asks him to explain everything.

Ha ha ha j/k. Lan Wangji asks him exactly nothing about the strange sword or the black smoke or his weird evil smile or his new power over pointy objects. Lan Wangji appears to have a Star Trek: TNG level of unconcern about strange phenomena happening directly under his nose. But in fact he has noticed what's up, which is why he will be instantly distressed when he sees Wei Wuxian's flute moves at the Wen Corporate Headquarters.

Wei Wuxian has a fever (stay positive test negative) and comments on Lan Wangji's being so nice to him.

Wei Wuxian: I could never have imagined Lan Er Gongzi acting this concerned about me. Lan Wangji: what else have you never imagined me doing, while we're on the subject? 

Lan Wangji transfers a stream of spiritual energy to him. Lan Wangji has so much spiritual power he can be a battery for Wei Wuxian without breaking a sweat or, like, noticing whether Wei Wuxian has a golden core or not, for that matter.

Wei Wuxian basks in the nice feeling of gigajoules for a while but then decides he's bored. So then he pouts, whines, and cajoles Lan Wangji in exactly, EXACTLY the way he whines at Jiang Yanli.  I think this, while annoying of him, is a leap forward in his relationship with Lan Wangji.

He's letting his guard down and not just allowing Lan Wangji to take care of him; he's demanding to be cared for on multiple vectors, when he asks the guy who's already busy healing him to sing to him as well.

Lan Wangji obliges, singing him the song he composed about their love cultivation journey, while Wei Wuxian (or possibly Lan Wangji) (or possibly both) has a flashback to assorted sexy interactions that they've had so far.

Wei Wuxian memorizes the song perfectly on one hearing, before passing out.

Writing Prompt: Baldur’s Gate III / Untamed Crossover AU featuring elf archer Lan Wangji

I DARE YOU

Soundtrack: 1. Everybody Dance Now by C+C Music Factory 2. Paradise by the Dashboard Light by Meatloaf 

Wei Wuxian fainting tally (cumulative): 3

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #wangxian #the untamed gifs #the untamed meta #the untamed spoilers #restless rewatch the untamed #my gifs #canary3d-original #asian whump

[corpsebasil]

Hardwood Floors/ A.B.

He doesn’t know I’m alive.

To say I fell in love with Anthony Bridgerton would be a drastic understatement; the mere sight of him leaves me feeling like my chest is caving in, my limbs feel weak, and if he meets my eyes (which he never does) I feel slightly faint. It doesn’t matter that I care for him—I’m a scullery maid, and maids don’t marry rich men like Anthony Bridgerton. Not even if you feel like you might die if you have to live the rest of your measly life in such a low position without him.

“I hope you’re going to do something about that.” Madame Pomphrey says, jostling my side with an elbow, and I almost slip and bust my ass on the hardwood floors I’m currently mopping.

“About what?” I inquire, but my face heats up. She’s caught me staring again—Anthony works in his study for possibly three hours or more a day, and that study’s door is cracked open with a slight view of the man himself hard at work. He doesn’t look up once—he doesn’t need to. If he knows I’ve mopped the same section of hallway twice now, he’s doing a hell of a good job pretending not to notice. Right now he’s bent over his desk writing furiously, brow furrowed, chestnut hair tumbling onto his forehead. He looks busy—he looks devastatingly handsome.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Madame sniffs, her voice a meager whisper as she saunters by me, raising one perfectly groomed eyebrow. Madame Pomphrey, the head of the household only under Lady Bridgerton herself, serves not only as housekeeper, tutor, and friend of Lady Bridgerton, but she also happens to be my adoptive mother. She also happens to be actutely aware of my feelings for Anthony, and seems to be under the impression that he’d somehow love me back. “You have to actually talk to him if you want his attentions.” My mother continues, combing bright ginger-blonde hair up into an easy up-do, which she secures with pins she procured out of nowhere.

“And how do you expect me to do that?” I hiss, leaning against my mop’s handle, and cast my eyes quickly towards the door. The hall is big, but not so big that he couldn’t hear what we’re saying if he listened in hard enough. “He won’t even look at me.”

“I wouldn’t look at you either if I was him, what with you running around like a lovesick puppy and hiding whenever he steps into the room.” Madame scoffs, and pauses to look at me, her vibrant green eyes scanning me with barely hidden amusement. “Talk to him for once. He’s not a rude man. Certainly loves conversation, that’s for sure. Especially from women.” The knowing smirk on her mouth sends my heartbeat into a frenzy, and I feel my face warm at the implication.

“I’m not going to...” I pause, searching for the appropriate words. “...’talk’ to him. Like that, I mean.”

“I’m not sure I get what you’re suggesting.” Madame feigns confusion, but even I can see the obvious laughter shes supressing. “Once you’re done with this hallway, move to a different one. I’m quite sure two times around is enough cleaning for one floor.”

My face reddens and I nod, watching with a sinking stomach as she strides away, off to organize a party or yell at the maids or whatever Madame likes to do in her free time. My sigh is slow and heavy—I’m suddenly tired, and all this talk of Anthony and I and other women is making me queasy. With a resigned sniff I tuck my bright hair behind my ears and set about my task, unsure of how much longer I can keep up the charade before he does notice I’ve mopped this hall twice.

“Haven’t you mopped this hall twice?” An amused male voice calls out, and my entire body goes tense as a wire, my blood chilling to ice inside my veins. I cant move. “Eliza, isn’t it? Are you alright?”

Eliza. I think, tossing my own name around my head like a mental game of tennis. I eye the end of the hallway with a new sense of longing for the kitchens—If I ran now, would he bother to chase me? I’d probably have to fake my own death and run away, but well, I’m sure the circus is still accepting applications or however they accept—

“Miss,” Anthony continues, much closer now, and I almost jump out of my skin when his hand lands on my shoulder. He retracts his arm quickly, raising both eyebrows. “did I startle you?” He asks, and there’s unmistakable amusement dancing in his bright, pine colored eyes. My heart does a stupid whomp, my mouth feels dry, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out.

“I was just—” I begin, and swallow audibly. My cheeks feel hot. Am I sweating? “I wanted to make sure the floor was really clean. I’m—how do you know my name?” I blurt, unable to save my dumb babbling when I voice aloud the question that leaps into the forefront of my thoughts.

“Of course I know your name.” His expression is confused, and he glances around the hallway like someone might come save him from the insane girl standing before him. “We—you’ve lived at the Bridgerton home for a while. You’re Madame Pomphrey’s daughter, yes? Eliza?”

“Yes I’m Eliza.” I say, and as if it couldn’t get weirder, I add, “and you’re Anthony.” My heart must be showing in my eyes, because instead of running away from me, he suddenly smiles. It’s so brilliant, so beautiful, I literally think I might make good on that fainting spell I was promised.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Eliza.” He says, tilting his head as he looks at me, and I swear his eyes roam up and down my figure from head to toe as if actually assessing my entirety. And as if the ghost of some lady of high society has possessed me in this moment, I actually have the damned audacity to move to hold my hand out like he’s going to kiss it. Immediately I drop my arm back to my side, face reddening anew.

“You too, Anthony. My lord.” Good god, have I been calling him by his first name this whole time?

“Good day, Miss Eliza.” He grins, and to my combined shock and horror, reaches out to take my hand. Holding eye-contact, those dark eyes filled with what can only be mirth, he brushes his lips over my bare knuckles ever so gently before allowing me to take my hand back.

I watch as he nods his head to me, casting me one more agonizing up-down, before turning on his heel and striding away. I stare at the back at my hand, imagining that I can still feel the touch of his lips.

Good god.

No good could possibly come of this, not when Anthony Bridgerton knows I exist.

#anthony bridgerton #imagines #fluff #bridgerton #Anthony Bridgerton imagines #Anthony Bridgerton x reader #Anthony #Jon bailey

[sapphicquill]

TAZ Balance: the truth will set you free

(ao3 link!)

Rating: Teen 

Characters: Taako, Kravitz, Magnus

Wordcount: 2942

“You’re fuming, dear.” 

Taako turns to look at Kravitz when the reaper speaks, trying not to let the thin frown fall off of his face at the sight of his uncharacteristically smug dead boyfriend. From his spot as Taako’s personal body pillow, Magnus laughs quietly.

“I can’t believe he convinced you to teach him this shit,” Taako says with an exaggerated huff. The elf crosses his arms tightly across his chest, sticking his chin up haughtily to hammer home his petulence. Magnus laughs again, the vibrations of it rumbling through Taako’s back like a purr. Taako very courteously does not throw an elbow backwards into the fighter’s stomach, despite how much he would enjoy doing just that. Kravitz lets out a hum, smirk not quite leaving his unfairly handsome face. 

“It’s not my fault Angus got curious about multiclassing as a bard,” the reaper finally says. And, as much as Taako was loath to acknowledge it, Kravitz is right. Taako groans theatrically and pointedly does not actually respond like an adult, because fuck that. 

Angus had approached Taako after one of their lessons together--much less frequent than they once were, before Lucas had gotten the idea to start up a small magic school, but Angus seemed content to return to his first (and clearly superior) tutor whenever the chance presented itself. But instead of asking for some sage wisdom or deeply insightful advice from Taako himself, Angus had asked for confirmation that Kravitz had been a bard before becoming a reaper, then begged for Taako to bring him along for their next lesson. 

Kravitz had been over the moon when Taako begrudgingly explained the situation, and the reaper wasted absolutely no time in devising a lesson plan for the boy detective. Taako had to work especially hard to keep from swooning over his boyfriend’s enthusiasm and instead sulked to their other boyfriend about the cruelty of life. (Magnus had been very little help, the bastard. Taako left with a disgruntled whine when the fighter started theorizing on how to convince Ango that learning some rogue skills could be helpful too, the absolute traitor.) 

“You want to know what I think?” Kravitz asks after another moment of silence. Taako frowns as he finally lets his gaze meet the reaper’s eyes directly. 

“Not particularly, but something tells me you’re going to keep talking anyway, you dick.”

“You’re jealous.”

Taako feels himself freeze for half a second before he can pull himself together. Damn Kravitz for knowing him so well. Damn him and Magnus for making him feel comfortable enough to even let himself be read that easily. Damn them both.

“Oh fuck right off, you’re full of shit,” the elf tosses back almost automatically through gritted teeth. 

“Hey, play nice,” Magnus teases, poking Taako in the side. The unexpected jab sends a fluttering shockwave through the startled wizard, who squeaks before he can catch himself. Kravitz continues to look on smugly, not breaking eye contact with Taako as he scoots further up the bed and closer to the other two. 

“You’re very precious when you get all wound up like this, love,” he murmurs. Taako shifts, instinct telling him to pull away and hide, to clam up and put up an even harder front. A quiet voice that sounded worryingly sweet and comforting tells him to just come clean to the both of his boyfriends. It wasn’t like they didn’t know he was secretly a soft, if somewhat emotionally-deficient, sap. Magnus had definitely figured it out somewhere along that first hundred years, and Kravitz was frighteningly perceptive.

A sudden weight around his waist distracts Taako from the beginning of whatever bullshit emotional spiral he’s about to fall into, his body automatically pulling against the sudden restriction. Though the warmth of Magnus’ arms encircling him from behind sends an innate sense of calm through him, the elf nearly pulls something in his neck as he whips his head toward the human because Magnus, what the actual hell. Magnus has the decency to look a bit sheepish, but resolutely does not let go. 

“Mags…” Taako growls, narrowing his eyes and trying to look intimidating despite the growing fluttering of excitement in his stomach. He’s quickly figuring out Magnus’ plan and is now desperate to not show his hand because fuck, this got different, fast. This somehow turned into Taako goading his boys into absolutely wrecking him for being a stubborn piece of shit, which he hadn’t even considered as an outcome when this mock argument had started. Now, however, his mind is three steps ahead, already craving the feeling of his partners’ touches driving him insane.

Because here’s the thing—Taako, maybe, kinda, sorta actually likes getting tickled. He absolutely would never say as much, even under pain of death (and he is really familiar with how  fucking painful death can be), and the only other being in the multiverse that probably knows is Lup because, duh, twin sister or whatever. So it was always imperative Taako never let on in any way he didn’t exactly hate it when Magnus and Kravitz, whether alone or together, decide to tickle him stupid. He would probably implode from the embarrassment—and what a dumb fucking way to go after everything else. No, that wouldn’t do at all. 

Thus, it’s second nature for the elf to throw out menacing glares and cutting threats, which is exactly what he does as he feels Magnus flex his fingers and rest them at the center of his stomach. He’s unable to resist flinching at the sudden light touch to his bare midriff, though—damn, why did he and Lup convert the majority of his wardrobe into crop tops? 

Movement at the other end of the bed catches his attention, so he redirects back to Kravitz, face pinched and pout sufficiently exaggerated. 

“It’s quite alright, Taako, really,” the reaper says, affecting the tone he usually saves for puppies and small children, the absolute ass, “You’re allowed to want to be Angus’ favorite.”

“Shut up, I do not—” 

The remainder of Taako’s protest is swallowed by a sharp gasp as Magnus draws his fingers across Taako’s stomach with a quick flick

“Do you really think you’re in any position to be bitchy right now?” the human says, smile evident despite his gruff tone. Taako feels his ear twitch as Magnus’s breath skates across his skin and it takes every ounce of concentration he has to not shiver or let out a breathy half-laugh. Instead the elf remains as still as possible, frown almost ridiculously exaggerated and eyes narrow slits focused on Kravitz. The reaper adopts an over-the-top pout—no doubt meant to mock Taako’s own expression—and draws ever closer to Taako and Magnus. 

“Magnus, maybe you could help me convince our beloved to be more honest, hm?” 

The words have barely left Kravitz’s mouth when Taako feels Magnus begin to slowly drag his fingertips across his exposed stomach. Tiny zings of tickly sensation burst across Taako’s skin like low-level electricity and somehow keeping still and silent is the hardest thing Taako’s ever done in his life. He can’t, however, keep the warm bubbling feeling of anticipation and excitement from flooding his entire body, and that, of course, makes keeping still even fucking harder. 

Magnus’ fingers trail lightly across Taako’s abdomen before slowly gliding up his sides. Without really meaning to, Taako squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will himself into a trance by force. This clearly amuses both of his boyfriends, as their joint chuckles echo in stereo in the sudden darkness. Taako feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, one wrong move and he’ll cascade off the side and plunge ten thousand feet—

Then Magnus’s devilish touch reaches the top of his ribs and the dam breaks. 

A steady stream of hiccuping giggles pours from Taako as Magnus gently skitters light tickles across one of Taako’s absolute worst spots and even without looking, the elf can tell that his boyfriends have both got gleeful expressions on their stupid fucking faces. He squirms, trying in vain to block out the torturous sensation of Magnus’ fingers or escape their attack altogether, but that just seems to encourage the fighter. Feather-light scritches instantly turn into fast, fluttering pinches and quick vibrating prods and Taako would be embarrassed about how quickly he dissolves into full-fledged laughter if he wasn’t so busy absolutely losing his mind. 

“Ready to admit you secretly adore Angus yet, love?” Kravitz asks from far too close, Taako can tell he’s almost pressed up against his chest, but fucking of course he isn’t. He can practically hear the mischievous grin in the reaper’s voice when he shakes his head. 

“You leave me no choice, then.” 

Over the sounds of his increasingly frantic laughter, Taako can hear Kravitz speaking the incantation for Zone of Truth, and he’s sure Krav’s crimson eyes are sparkling with mirth. The unique sensation of enchantment magic washing over him barely phases the elf—he’s too preoccupied with Magnus’ deft hands flitting up and down his ribs to really pay it much mind. Taako squeezes his eyes even tighter and attempts to focus on resisting the truth spell, gasping around his laughter, trying to push past the way his nerves feel like they’ve been set alight so he can focus—

And then promptly fails his save. 

Of course he fails his save. How could he possibly concentrate on resisting a Zone of Truth from a powerful ex-bard-turned-Grim-Reaper with Magnus’ fucking fingers skittering across his abdomen, drawing squeaky, desperate laughter from him like water from a well? 

“Now, come on, dove, be honest with us.” 

And then Kravitz is tickling him too, on top of concentrating on a fucking spell, his nimble musician’s fingers skittering ruthlessly across Taako’s hips, and it’s impossible to think about anything other than the fluttering in his stomach, the laughter forcing its way out of his lungs, the pleasant fuzziness already clouding his mind. He can’t even remember Krav’s question, really. Taako’s brain feels like it’s been filled with cotton (but like, in a good way) and he can barely string two thoughts together before giving up thinking altogether. 

“Admit it, Taako, tell us the truth,” Kravitz purrs directly into Taako’s ear and even that tickles like hell, and between that and the two pairs of hands currently wreaking ticklish havoc on him, it feels like every wire in Taako’s brain is crossing simultaneously. He wants this to end and also never wants this to end, why can’t his boyfriends wreck him like this constantly, it’s not fair—

“Tell us, Ko, come on!” Magnus whines, seemingly trying to match Taako’s usual petulant tone as he drills his fingers into the wizard’s underarms and knocks his laughter up at least ten decibels, and that’s what pushes Taako to open his big, stupid mouth. He means to say something about the dumb boy detective, he really does, but instead all he can think about is Kravitz and Magnus making him scream and laugh and thrash around with teasing words and fluttering fingers and, well—

“I—I—” Taako’s voice breaks on a laugh, brain going a million miles an hour and also stuck in the mud simultaneously.

“Yes dear, that’s it, come on, out with it,” Kravitz says while rubbing incessantly ticklish circles into Taako’s sides. And that finally pushes an answer out of Taako, who manages to push through his laughter long enough to speak. 

“I fucking like being tickled, okay?—Shit—!”

Suddenly, the two pairs of hands on Taako’s skin still, and as his laughter slowly dies down, the full impact of what he’d just actually admitted to hits the elf like a cartload of bricks. Fuck. Shit.

Weirdly, instead of instant fiery panic, Taako is filled with a sense of...calm? It’s like someone hit pause on the entire fucking universe. Taako keeps his eye closed and resolutely doesn’t think about what just happened; doesn’t think about anything, other than a burning sense of mortification and the deepest desire for a hole to open up and swallow him up. 

“Nope, okay, that’s—I didn’t—no, fuck this,” Taako mumbles as he sits up, easily breaking out of Magnus’ hold. With eyes still closed he leaps up from the large bed and has half a mind to burn a Teleportation spell to get as far away from his boyfriends as possible before feeling a cool hand wrap around his wrist. Taako can identify the feel of Kravitz’s touch almost alarmingly well, and normally he sinks into it without more than a few grumbled faux-complaints. Here and now, the wizard doesn’t instantly pull his arm from Kravitz’s grasp like he desperately wants to, but he doesn’t move toward him either. Instead, he keeps his eyes closed and pretends he’s literally anywhere else. 

“Taako, wait,” and that’s Magnus’ voice, the one that always makes a small part of Taako melt because it’s so full of genuine love and affection and care and fuck, he has to open his eyes and face the two men he actually definitely loves, shit. He braces himself, not exactly sure what expressions might adorn the faces of his boyfriends but he’s prepared for the worst. 

The first thing Taako sees when he opens his eyes is, unsurprisingly, Kravitz, as the reaper is closer to him. What does surprise Taako is the look Kravitz is giving him. The other man looks—apologetic? 

“Taako, I’m so sorry,” Kravitz starts, and Taako feels his heart stutter a bit, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I should never have cast Zone of Truth and forced you to tell us that.”

And that—

That’s not what Taako had expected to hear come out of Kravitz’s mouth. He’d more or less thought, at the very least, he’d get laughed at. Made fun of. Belittled. Shamed. This is—far from all of that. 

“I—what?” 

If it had been any other time, Taako would have congratulated Krav for actually rendering him fucking speechless, because that’s a rarity. As it is, Taako can’t do much of anything aside from gape, gaze not leaving Kravitz’s crimson eyes. 

“The spell, it didn’t compel you but it forces you to be truthful, and you clearly weren’t ready to tell either of us that you—” 

At this, Kravitz seems to pause, looking like he’s attempting to phrase his words as carefully as possible while still turning over this new information in his mind. Luckily, Magnus, as he always seems able to, picks up right where their Grim Reaper leaves off. 

“You’re totally waiting for us to roast you or something, aren’t you?” 

Fuck, has Magnus always been this perceptive? Taako could have sworn he was oblivious as all hell but no, this is the man he’s known for over a century, of course Magnus knows all his tells. 

“Well, we’re not going to,” the fighter barrels forward, always fucking rushing in, and Taako isn’t sure whether he wants to dive back onto the bed or Misty Step to the front porch to call Lup on the Stone of Farspeech and just scream. 

“Why would we? It’s not like you’ve told us something weird or bad or anything,” Kravitz adds, finally out of his own head. He sounds a little frantic, like he desperately needs Taako to believe him and fantasy Christ, Taako loves him for it. 

“Honestly, it’s kind of adorable,” Magnus adds. Taako finally cocks his head enough to meet the human’s eyes and he’s known Magnus long enough to tell when he’s lying. 

He’s absolutely not lying. 

The sense of relief that Taako expects to flood through him comes in waves. His heart is still beating a million miles an hour (which he hadn’t even noticed, fuck) and it still feels like he could cook a five course meal using only the heat collected on his face, but his desire to run and hide and sulk is retreating, and the space between Magnus and Kravitz is looking more and more inviting by the second. 

It’s the most natural thing in the entirety of the planar system for Taako to lower himself back onto the bed and resume his position lounging against Magnus. Quiet descends on the room and it’s warm, comfortable. 

“We should probably have a real conversation about this later,” Kravitz says, and Taako surprises himself by humming in agreement rather than groaning in protest. 

“Later,” he concedes, and then Magnus is shifting again and Taako’s about to grouse about how a moving pillow is a pretty shitty pillow when—

“So if you actually like getting tickled—”

An involuntary shudder shoots down Taako’s back at this, at Magnus’ voice curling around that word, fuck, and suddenly the great brute’s hands are back on Taako’s ribs and his fingers are slowly tracing Taako’s skin and it’s like a bolt of lightning through his entire consciousness. 

“Then you won’t mind if Krav and I get back to work, huh?”

Despite quickly being overcome by tittering giggles, Taako can sense a voiceless conversation happening over him, and then Kravitz is back in his space and his hands are inching up Taako’s thighs, squeezing and stroking lightly as they go. 

“Yes, Magnus is right—you never actually told us what we really wanted to hear, love,” Kravitz purrs, mischief and affection so clear on his face that there’s no room for Taako’s anxiety to even attempt to convince him of something horrible.  

So instead of spiraling into a pit of despair, Taako revels in the wide grin pulling at his lips, savors the electric sensations rippling across his nerve endings, and laughs. 

#tk fic #tk fic community #tickle fic #taz fic #the adventure zone fanfic #taz tickle fic #taagnitz #lee taako #ler kravitz #ler magnus #it's happened #it's here #my first official tk fic #posted in celebration of national tickling day because of course #sapphicquillfics

[your-eternal-muse]

Sight For Sore Eyes

Heather Series Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9

BONUS: Readers Card Confession BONUS: Spencer’s Take Series Playlist

Summery: Reader bares witness to the final moment of Spencer and Heather’s relationship, and when comforting Spencer, something unexpected happens.

Words: 2k

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Cheating, angry Spencer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader (It’s happening fuckers.)

A/N: I don’t really have anything to say, except go nuts. I almost screamed writing this.

~~~~~

Eavesdropping isn't really my thing.

I find it impersonal, and kind of bitchy.

I mean, you're basically listening on someone else's conversation, snooping on drama that doesn't concern you.

Only, this kind of does concern me.

Since, you know, if it weren't for me, Spencer and Heather wouldn't be huddled in a conference room, arguing about their impending divorce 

I should feel worse about it than I do.

But I don't.

Spencer is broken.

She ruined him.

And trust me, I know because I'm the one who he's been coming to.

The whole thing sort of forced us back together, but if I'm being honest, I didn't really fight it. Like, at all.

Again I should feel bad, about how selfish it is to take pride in the fact that a man who's going through a divorce finds solace in my arms.

But you know what?

I really don't give a shit anymore.

I've spent the past almost three years doing everything to appear nice and selfless and it led me down a road that almost killed me.

So fuck it.

I exposed her cheating ass, punched her in her stupid face, fell asleep with her husband while laying on my couch and now I'm listening in as he serves her the divorce papers.

I'm not even trying to be subtle about it, and the team isn't being subtle about finding my snooping funny.

JJ passed and asked for an update, Derek just chuckled, and ruffled my hair, Hotch closed his blinds so he can have plausible deniability and the rest of them just smile as they watch.

I do have a back up plan though, just in case.

I hold a file in my hand that I can open and pretend to be reading as I walk in to get Spencer's opinion. Or something.

Right now though, I'm leaning against the door frame, listening and watching through the sliver of a crack that the door is open from when Heather closed it.

Heather sits with her back towards me, her hands folded in her lap, the papers and a pen sitting on the table in front of her, while Spencer stands, stoned face in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Sign the papers, Heather."

I can hear her sniffle, and she shakes her head. "No. I love you, we can make this work."

“'We’ aren't doing anything. 'We' are getting a divorce because 'you' cheated on 'me' for almost our entire marriage. Sign the papers."

He was assertive, the pain and anger evident in his voice as he points to the packet on the table.

I'm not gonna lie, it's kinda hot.

"It's only been six months. What do you want me to do? It was a mistake, a stupid mistake." She's actively crying now, and she stands, making her way over to him, wrapping her hands around one of his biceps.

He stares down at her.

"I love you, Spence."

Hey bitch, that's my nickname for him, get your own. Wait no, I take that back. You can just fuck right off, how's that?

One of her hands comes up to cup his cheek, and anger boils in my stomach.

He uncrosses his arms, and brings a hand up to cover hers, and I hold my breath.

He wraps his fingers around her wrist, pulling it from his face while he pulls her hand from his bicep with his other hand.

He holds both of her wrists in his hands, pushing her away from him.

"That's not love."

Haha. Bitch.

"And it wasn't a mistake. You kept going back to him. Over and over again, instead of dealing with your problems and talking to me. Now," he turns her, and pushes her towards the table. The way she falls forward, stumbling into it makes it look like he shoved her harder than he did.

"Sign the fucking papers."

She grabs the pen, crocodile tears streaming down her face. 

Her look goes from pleading, to furious in a second.

"You're gonna run back to her, aren't you?" She scoffs, straightening up. "How do I know you didn't cheat on me first?"

He leans in close to her, brushing hair behind her ear.

I almost fall into the room, leaning in so close to make sure I can hear what he says, my heart pounding.

"What or who I do, is no longer any of your business. Now I'm not going to ask again. Sign the papers, or I will gladly get my lawyer and make your life a living hell."

She's no longer crying, but the annoyance is radiating off of her.

She's pissed.

She huffs, leaning forward, and signs her name. She flips through, repeating the action until she's done.

She tosses the pen onto the table. 

"You're gonna regret this. I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you."

He actually laughs, and I want to applaud him.

"Yeah, sure you are. I want your stuff out by this weekend."

She grabs her purse off the table, walking towards the door at a quick pace.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit.

I barely have time to open my file and take a few steps back to make it seem like I was walking up before she's opening the door, almost running into me in the process.

Her eyes meet mine, and I can't help the smirk spread across my face.

She glares, her hand coming up to her still bandaged nose, before shoving past me.

I watch her walk to the end of the hall before turning back to the room, where Spencer now stands with his hands in his packets.

I hold up the file, ready to start my spiel, but he starts talking before I can get the chance.

“I could see you.”

My mouth falls open and he smiles.

How the fuck…

“I could also smell your perfume.” He looks down at the papers, starting to flip through them to double check that she signed everything.

He could smell my perfume?

I walk into the room, closing the door fully behind me.

Wouldn’t want anyone to listen in now would we?

“How do you know it’s mine?” I place the file on the table, as he closes the packet.

He looks up at me, and my knees turn to jello.

“Because I smell it on your skin every time we hug.”

Butterflies erupt in my stomach, but he keeps talking.

“Smells like home to me.” He runs a hand through his hair, shifting from one foot to the next, now looking down at the table instead of me. “You’re home to me.”

You’re killing me, smalls.

I walk over to where he’s standing, and open my arms. 

I watch as his shoulders deflate as he sighs, walking forward and wrapping his arms around my waist. 

My arms slink around his neck, and I now understand how he can smell it. His nose is pressed to the crook of my neck, right where I put it in the morning.

“You’re my home too.” I whisper, turning my head, and inhaling the scent of his hair. It’s such a uniquely Spencer scent. I wish I could bottle it, make a candle out of it so that I can smell him whenever I want.

We break after a few minutes, and I trail my hands down his arm.

He entangles his fingers of one hand into my own.

“You okay?”

He sighs, looking down at our hands as he plays with my fingers. “I will be.”

He sits on the edge of the table, and I follow suit, being sure not to break the link our hands have created.

“If I hadn’t seen you, if you hadn’t been there watching, I’m afraid of what I might have done.” He swallows, and his eyes won’t meet my own. “It scared me.”

He finally looks up, and a small fire is lit behind those hazel eyes of his. 

“It scared me, because for a moment, I wanted to hurt her. She has made me so, angry, she’s made me feel so fucking stupid and all I wanted to do was make her feel that too.”

I fully grab his hand, the absence of his ring pressing against my palm.

“I know that feeling. But, as much as you wanted to, I don’t think you would have. You’ve got too much of a good conscience to do something like that.”

I feel him squeeze my hand. 

“However, I am more than willing, so you tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

That got him to laugh, and he shakes his head at me. He becomes quiet quicker than I’d like. 

“You have too much faith in me.”

“Hey,” I reach up and grab his chin with my free hand, forcing him to look at me. “I have the perfect amount of faith in you, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re a good man, no, a great man, through and through. I guarantee you that you are the best thing that has ever or will ever happen to her. If she doesn’t realize that, well, that’s her loss. Not yours.”

I swipe some hair out of his face, and his eyes bore down into mine. 

Something about the look on his face makes my heart start to race. 

It resembles what I assumed I looked like that day in the restaurant, only he also looks like he’s about to cry.

My face scrunches in confusion. “Are you okay, Spence?”

“God, I love you.”

His hands are on either side of my face and his lips are on mine.

His lips are on mine. 

He’s kissing me.

Spencer Reid, the man whom I have been in love with for the past ten fucking years is kissing me.

Kiss him back, you dumb bitch!

My hands immediately go to his chest, bunching the fabric of his shirt in my fists, pulling him as close as possible to me.

I have dreamt about this moment.

Since the day I met him, I have dreamt about what kissing him would feel like. 

And now that it’s here, I can safely say, that my dreams don’t compare to the real thing.

His lips are soft and they lead in such a way that doesn’t make it feel like he’s doing all the work. 

It’s the perfect amount of push, the perfect amount of pull.

Kissing him is perfect.

But then he breaks it, as if remembering where he was, and the moments that had led up to it. 

He looks utterly terrified, like he just ruined the one thing he had left.

We're both breathless for a moment, and then he speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

Before I can react, he picks up the packet of paper and all but runs out of the door. 

I come to my senses quick enough to go after him, following him out into the bullpen. 

“Spencer!” I stop, out of breath, and confused as hell.

He exits through the glass doors, his hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

“Hey hey hey, what’s going on? Did something happen?” JJ walks up, eyes looking at the space that Spencer had occupied before turning to look at me. “Seriously, you look like you’re about to cry. What happened?”

My fingers float over my lips, still warm from the energy of the kiss. 

“He kissed me.” It’s barely above a whisper, like if I say it louder than that, it’ll cease to exist.

“He did? Why did he run then?”

“I don’t know.” 

The kiss isn’t what's confusing me at the moment though, oh no. 

What’s making it hard to breath right, let alone think, was the statement he whispered right before he kissed me.

A statement I never even thought I would hear him say.

God, I love you.

I must be hearing things. That can’t be what he said. He told me himself, that night on the balcony, he doesn’t love me.

No.

I may not have a memory like his, but I could never forget something like that.

He loves me. 

He loves me.

Spencer Reid loves me.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid series #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds series #criminal minds self insert #mathew gray gubler #mgg #heather #conan gray #song fic

[stealingpotatoes]

I am OBSESSED with your Desmond lives AU!! I want Shaun and Rebecca to be able to give Desmond all the hugs, I want Desmond to be able to choose to be an Assassin, to be able to help save the world again. Also, I am very curious about how you would resurrect Desmond, because I’ve had similar thoughts on such an AU, but I currently stick it near the end of Valhalla with the stuff that happens there. If you ever feel like expanding on it, I'd be super excited to see more!!!

first of all, AH THANK YOU!!! Yes those are ALL points that are very important to the Des Lives AU! Second of all, thank you so much for this ask in general!!! I was hoping someone would send an ask like this so I’d get an excuse to talk abt the AU more lmao XD!! I made this AU back in March last year, so there’s no Valhalla stuff in it, and it’s set right after/ during the Odyssey DLCs. 

The long story short for my Desmond Rez (rezmond, if you will) is “shroud of eden, abstergo, and some Isu bullshit”. The long story long, however, is uh- you know what? I’m going to use this opportunity to explain the vague story I worked out last year -- but dw, I WILL get to the full ressurection explanation I thought through. However... I’m gonna have to tell the story in smaller parts because I’m lazy and can’t be bothered to write the whole thing out right now. So rez comes later and not in this post. 

also uh-- before we start: I’m going to apologise for like… everything about the way I wrote this. It’s sort-of half fic, half that-way-your-friends-colloquially-tell-stories-that-you-can’t-keep-up-with. Mainly the latter. If you can make sense of this babbling, well done.

 Anyways, without further ado, welcome to:

POTES TRIES TO EXPLAIN HER DESMOND (SORTA) LIVES AU: PART ONE

On the 21st of December 2012, Desmond Miles dies. 

It’s not for nothing -- his sacrifice saves the entire world from a solar flare -- but he is dead. big ripz. The Assassins, his family, do not manage to recover his body. Abstergo gets it first. The Assassins hold a funeral as best they can. They mourn (all in their own ways), they keep fighting (for his memory), and they try to move on (they can’t). 

On the 21st of December 2012, Desmond Miles died -- so when he shows up in a city in October 2018, almost 6 years later, it’s a bit of a shock for everyone. What’s even more of a shock is the fact he’s glowing like an Isu and has some abilities he DEFINITELY didn’t have when he died.

So Desmond wakes up in the middle of some city in he doesn’t know where (yeah ok i just never really worked out where the secret lab would be), with 1. no idea of how he got there and 2. no idea why his arms are glowing like that. He doesn’t get much time to think about it because then there’re a load of Abstergo goons with guns surrounding him. Des may have no idea what’s happening, but he knows one thing: when u see an Abstergo, it’s on sight. So he’s fighting them -- which is admittedly not fun or easy when you’re in the middle of a road and only have your fists as weapons. It’s not going well and then someone definitely manages to shoot Desmond which is very bad -- but then Des feels some very weird (but not unfamiliar) feeling and when he looks up from the bullet wound, every one of the Abstergos are on the floor???? He doesn’t think to check if they’re dead, just legs it out of there lmao. 

//

Elsewhere, in an Assassin safehouse in an undisclosed location (can you tell I just didn’t think about the geography of anything), Mr Shaun Hastings is chilling on a balcony after a mission well done. Good for him. Then Rebecca Crane (queen ilu) yells “Shaun?” from inside. 

“Rebecca?” 

“Come inside. Now.”

Shaun immediately does so because he assumes it’s important or they’re under threat. “What happened? Have we been compromised?”

Rebecca doesn’t answer. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Shaun says, mostly joking and with a little smirk -- though Becs looks spooked. 

“Desmond’s alive.”

Shaun’s not smirking anymore. “What?”

“Desmond’s... he’s alive.”

“What are you talking about? Are you high?” he’s totally about to look at her eyes to see if they’re all dilated and druggy. 

“No Shaun, I mean it!” Becs harshly shoves her tablet into his hands. 

Shaun doesn’t really know what he’s expecting to see when he looks down at the screen. What he’s not really expecting to see is Desmond Miles, who’s been dead for six years, fighting a load of Abstergo people -- while lined in Isu markings (also he’s not wearing a shirt forgot got to mention). ??? But wtf??!?! Desmond’s dead. That’s...

“It’s security camera footage from [the city]... About two hours ago.” Rebecca then swipes through more footage with shaky hands and explains that Des very violently burst out of an Abstergo facility in the city with glowing eyes and light leaking out of him (almost like an Apple of Eden). Then the glowing eyes and shining lights shuts off abruptly and Des is standing in the middle of the road looking very confused at his precursor-ass arms and chest. But Shaun is barely listening to what she’s saying and barely even looking at the screen. 

“Where did you get this?” Shaun asks with a hollow voice, not looking up. 

“The Initiates.” (bc who else)

Shaun looks at it again, then at Rebecca, and he’s mildly aware of the fact he’s slightly tearing up; “That’s fake. That can’t be him. He’s dead, Becs. We both saw the…” They both saw the autopsy footage the ac4 researcher got from Abstergo -- or at least, tried to watch it; they shut it off as soon as Shaun ran to the bathroom to throw up and Rebecca quickly joined him. They spent the rest of that night crying and drinking way too much. 

“He died.” Shaun concludes firmly. 

And so Becs is all like “yeah but what if he didn’t?? We need to find him. We need to investigate this.” There’s a determination in her eyes and Shaun knows he’s not going to be able to convince her to drop this -- not that he would. Desmond might be alive, and there is no way they’re going to leave him again. 

They’re both standing there in pure shock and confusion, not saying anything. 

Rebecca’s comm device lights up and starts buzzing, snapping them out of their general ????-ness. Becs goes to her desk to grab it, glances at the caller id and then shows it to Shaun. It’s William Miles. 

The two of them share a Look. They know what he’s calling about -- what else would it be? There’s a stilted moment of neither of them doing anything before Rebecca finally accepts the call. “William?” 

“How quickly can you and Shaun get to [city]?” William sounds shaken -- probably the same way Rebecca and Shaun are -- which is a very weird way to hear the Mentor of the Brotherhood sound. He’s seen the footage, hasn’t he? 

“In a few hours,” Rebecca replies. 

“Good. You need to get there as soon as possible.” 

Everyone’s silent for a few moments. 

“Is this about Desmond?” Rebecca asks. Dumb question. 

There’s a pause. “You’ll be briefed on the ground.” And then he hangs up before Shaun or Rebecca can yell at him.

This is all moving very fast. Shaun and Rebecca share another look. Guess they’re going to [city].  ???

// 

Fast forward several hours and Rebecca and Shaun are in The City [might just have to make the city london bc it’s the one city i actually know well -- however for plot reasons we’ll see later, a swiss city might be better… moving on!]. They get to an assassin base and meet up with Galina Voronina and 2 local assassins. Idk if you’ve read the comics, but to sum things up quickly, Galina and her team were investigating and then ended Project Phoenix -- so Galina now really wants to find out if the whole Desmond thing has anything to do with that. 

Galina also wants to help Shaun and Rebecca get their friend back. They’re her friends, but equally she just lost one of her teammates to Abstergo (while ending Phoenix like 2 months ago, in the comics) and is uh- idk how to say it but she wants to help Shaun & Becs who have a chance to get their lost teammate back.

What follows is cool gang-gang trying to track down any trace of Desmond. You’d think it wouldn’t be hard to find a person who literally glows, but Desmond’s had centuries of Assassin training and knows how to hide lol.. which is making the Assassins’ job harder lol. 

What’s making it even harder is the Assassins know they have to be quick because they know Abstergo is gonna be looking for Desmond too -- and they have way more resources and stuff. That being said, they’re also currently dealing with the fact one of their building and a decent amount of their guards just got absolutely mullered by weird-glowing-desmond. 

The third issue with their entire thing is that they have no idea what they’re going to find when they find Desmond -- or if he even is Desmond. Is he going to be the man they knew but with weird powers? an Abstergo isu-clone? evil? they don’t know, and so they know they’ve got to be wary with him. 

The Assassin gang spend some time (a couple of days at the very most) trying to track Desmond down. Rebecca is using all the tech she can get her hacker mitts on to find a trace of him and equally throw Abstergo off Des’ trail. 

Soon enough, they get a solid lead -- don’t ask for the specifics, i don’t know them. But they get a lead, and it winds them up in an abandoned apartment building or also abandoned building site or something (a building in the city where there aren’t any people, basically). 

Galina scans the place with Eagle Vision and she’s like “There is something very strange about this place.” (someone?) But she doesn’t see a person-shape anywhere. The 5 of them are hopeful but somewhat on edge. 

They go about searching for any sign of Desmond. Galina’s pretty sure her Eagle Vision is just… Messing Up A Lot lol. Like something’s trying to heck with it. So she’s not quite sure it’s working correctly when a load of red figures appear somewhere below them. 

She becomes a lot more sure when the red figures come into sight and START SHOOTING AT THEM! IT’S ABSTERGO!! CRAP! they found them!!

The assassins get down and a really cool fight scene w them vs the Abstergos in the building/ building site starts playing out. Woo Shaun and Rebecca electro-hidden-blade moments!! The fight splits the squad up and Shaun and Rebecca are away from Galina & the others -- but they dispatch the Abstergo guards near them.

They’re about to radio in that they’re all okay/ check if Galina & co are also good when they hear a slightly-too-loud footstep. They whip around to see an Abstergo guard aiming right at them, too far for either of them to get him before he shoots them. crap crap crap.

They would have been shot -- if someone hadn’t come up behind the Abstergo guard and snapped his neck (ouch). 

The Abstergo drops to the ground, revealing the person who saved them and… Shaun and Rebecca stare in shock. 

They’re both looking at Desmond Miles. 

Desmond Miles, who is very much alive (and wearing a hoodie that is 100% stolen). And… with a load of glowing yellow lines on his face. But it’s Desmond -- it’s Desmond for sure. Holy shit.  

Desmond doesn’t seem so shocked, only relieved to see them. Then his expression turns into serious confusion; 

“What the fuck is happening?”

///

ok sorry leaving it there for now! hope you enjoyed what is here will continue soon

#desmond (sorta) lives au #desmond miles #rebecca crane #shaun hastings #galina voronina #william miles #Assassin's Creed #THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK i saw it this morning and have spent the day wanting to write this down but being in lessons /: #i know it's a complete mess however you'll have to excuse me i got excited #you opened a can of worms darling anon #I know I just used it as an excuse to Go Off but uh... sorry lol #asscreed #potes wrotes #sort of #thanks for the ask! #the night that the sun came up

[jalapeno-princess]

“Babe, what are you doing?” You finished folding the top you were currently holding and placed it in to your suitcase before turning towards your boyfriend and observing the look of genuine curiosity on his face. Mark had just arrived home after his shift at the hospital; you had a feeling he must have been exhausted and you couldn’t blame him.

Since a few of his colleagues either called in sick or went on vacation this past week, he’s been working overtime and it was obvious the extra hours were taking a toll on his mental and physical health. But he was never one to complain and he sincerely loved being a nurse. Working in the medical field was one of the more tiresome occupations and so you understood that all he probably wanted to do was fall asleep. It was only 8:30 P.M., however, he would always go to bed as soon as he got home from work no matter what time it was.

Seeing you on the ground right outside of your closet, packing multiple pairs of your clothes away probably confused the hell out of him and he was most definitely not tired at all anymore. Sure, he came home wanting nothing more than to take a quick shower and go straight to bed with you wrapped tightly in his embrace, but now he had other plans.

“Packing.” He began to walk closer to where you were sitting and took his place next to you, his dumbfounded expression didn’t falter nor did it waver. You had to stifle back a laugh; you were confident he had an idea as to what you were doing, so you were well aware that your response wasn’t going to amuse him in any way.

“I can see that. Packing for what?”

“Girl’s trip.” Once you admitted your plans and the reason behind your packing, his look of confusion quickly turned in to that of a frown.

“I don’t remember us making plans to go somewhere. With who? Where are we going?”

“Not we Mark. Just Sophia, Riley, Julia and I.”

“Wait, what? Why? When? Where are you going? Why didn’t you tell me?” As much as you wanted to continue your packing, seeing his broken expression as he hesitantly reached for your clothes; as if he wanted to get you to stop tugged all but gently on your heartstrings.

“I told you a couple of days ago. Right after we finished—you know—“

“You mean to tell me, that you told me you planned on going on a trip with your friends after we finished making love? My head was obviously somewhere else—I was too busy in between your pretty thighs to even care about anything else but this beautiful body of yours—you did this on purpose babe. It’s as if you knew I would try to prevent you from going. I mean, you have every right to go and I’m not the kind of boyfriend to hold you back from having your fun and spending time with your friends, but any minute spent away from you feels like a fucking eternity and it’s sucks. I’m happiest whenever I’m with you and I’m sure you know it by now. No matter how shitty my day is at work, I put up with whatever life throws at me because I know I’m coming home to you. Now you’re leaving me all by myself for God knows how long—what am I going to do without you?”

When he first found you folding your clothes and sorting out your luggage, you found his curiosity extremely adorable. You expected this kind of reaction out of him; that’s just who Mark was. For someone who was only a few years away from reaching thirty, he could be such a big baby sometimes. However, that was a trait of your boyfriend’s that you admired the most about him. He was very sensitive; but that’s because he had one of the biggest hearts that anyone could own and he had a small amount of separation anxiety when it came to you.

It never bothered you though, it just showed that he loved and cared about you with his entire being. That information alone never failed to pull on your heartstrings. Seeing him so fragile right now; probably exhausted beyond belief after a long day yet on the verge of tears at the idea of being alone for a little while made you feel terrible. In the three years of your relationship, you never spent more than three days without each other. Wherever you went, Mark followed and vice versa. If you went to visit your family back home, he was right there next to you. If he went with his friends to an arcade, you would tag along even if gaming wasn’t your forte. A lot of your friends would jokingly refer to you and your boyfriend as magnets. The two of you stuck together like glue. You were never not together other than when either of you were at work.

Out of instinct and guilt for not informing him more about your plans, you crawled over to him and sat on his lap; wrapping your arms around his neck and placed a soft kiss on his jaw. He placed his face in the valley of your breasts and released a soft sigh. Mark was a firm believer in actions speaking louder than words. He would shower you with his love on a daily basis—he did almost every single thing for you. He loved being able to help you and support you in any way he possibly could. If you were tired from taking on more hours at your job; he would cook dinner of the both of you. He would also wash the dishes, do the laundry, sweep and mop your apartment and sometimes he would even prepare breakfast for you and pack your lunches.

Your boyfriend was just a very thoughtful and considerate human being. He was the definition of a gentleman and even if he would remind you that he loved you at least five times a day, you could tell by his many sacrifices; you were his entire world. Hearing him confess how bothered the news of the trip made him only caused you to regret not putting more thought in to your decision. What started off as a joke just to see what kind of reaction you would illicit out of him was now something so much bigger; something that could have been prevented.

“It’s only a week Mark—“

“A week? An entire week? Seriously y/n? How long have you been planning this for and why do you seem so okay with the thought of being away from me?”

“Well, I was actually the last one to know. The girls didn’t tell me until the same night I told you. They just assumed I wasn’t going to go because they all know I don’t want to go anywhere you aren’t. God, we sound so pathetic. Sophia is joining the peace core in July, so she wants to spend as much time with us before she has to go away for two years. I wouldn’t go if that wasn’t the reason why they planned this entire trip. Jackson and Jinyoung seemed to take the news perfectly fine and I’ve heard that they are planning a trip of their own. I’m surprised that they didn’t reach out to you—“

“That’s because unlike them, I’m so far up your ass that I probably wouldn’t have any fun at all and it would be a waste of time and money if I were just moping the entire vacation. Plus, I don’t think I’d want to go with them anyway. The last time we went somewhere together, we almost got kicked out of a karaoke bar because Jackson’s dumb ass was being too loud. Humph, I’m really going to miss you. Damnit, what did you do to me? I never used to be this sappy before but here I am acting like it’s the end of the world since my girlfriend is going somewhere; probably going to have the time of her life with her friends while I do nothing but sit here like a loser until she gets back.”

You giggled softly at his words and beamed up at him; cupping his cheek with your palm before placing a few sweet kisses on his lips.

“We’re driving to Vegas—and luckily they already decided that it’s Riley whose in charge of getting us there so I will make sure to call you and text you whenever I get the chance. Trust me, I already tried to hint towards inviting you but they were quick to disagree. No boys on this trip—“

He pouted frustratingly once you said those words and wrapped his arms even tired around your sides. “Why not? I’m the best boyfriend out of our friend group let’s be honest here baby. The girls like me the most. Jackson talks too much and Jinyoung’s a petty asshole. I’m the quiet, mysterious and lighthearted boyfriend. I promise, you won’t even know that I’m there.”

You grazed your thumb against his cheek; trying your best to stifle back a laugh at his attempts to get you to reconsider. You were confident in the love your boyfriend had for you, but you weren’t sure how far he was willing to go in order to be with you at all times.

“Babe—“

“Fine, fine whatever. Go have your fun, you deserve it for all the hard work you had to suffer through in the last few weeks. But once you’re done putting away all your necessities, I want you on all fours. I need to fuck you tonight—no love making. I’m not going easy on you at all. I’m going to make sure your pussy is numb and your legs are jello once I’m done with you. Remember, five photos a day—make it ten. Two of the scenery, three of your gorgeous face I can never seem to take my eyes off of and five nudes. Oh, and I expect gifts. I want one of those five keychains and maybe a shirt that says I left my poor boyfriend home alone so that I could lose all my money playing slot machines—“

A breathy groan fell from his pretty lips as you elbowed him in his rib cage as your way to get him to stop talking. He was guilt tripping you and you’ve been with Mark long enough to know why he would do all that he did. You were also now very horny. It never failed to make you smile at an idiot knowing how soft spoken he was and how everyone around Mark assumed he must have been such a sweet, introverted guy. If only everyone knew just how much of a dominant, rough, animalistic and forceful man he was in the bedroom.

“That sounds like a great plan. Trust me my love, I’m going to miss you just as much as you’ll miss me. Before we do anything though, what are you going to do while I’m gone?”

“Wish I was a girl. Now, take off your clothes and let me hit it from the back. Maybe I can fuck you so hard you won’t be able to move and I’ll have to nurse you back to health. Preferably with my dick.”

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #got7 #mark tuan imagines #got7 mark

[butwhatifidothis]

I did it! Finally fucking did it! I 100% the support log for 3H….Holy shit, that took longer than I was expecting, lol. 

(Long rant, so heads up.)

I came in thinking “Oh they finally time-locked the supports, so I don’t have to have the damn cursor mocking me every time I open the menu like in Awakening and Fates, hurr hurr”. No no no no no. At least for Awakening and Fates, it was on my dumb ass for pressing the S-support and saving when I knew I shouldn’t. First off, if they wanted us to regain supports for Byleth in NG+, why the heck are supports for characters like Edelgard, Rhea, Dorothea and Lindhart locked? I don’t mean time-locked like the post-TS supports in a regular playthrough, I mean deadass “you can’t buy this, period” locked. “Oh it’s because you haven’t advanced that far in the story yet”. I can buy post-TS supports for the other characters, what makes El and Rhea exceptions?! The only thing that would be lost is that I don’t have to replay their entire route to get their S-support twice. It’s not like there’s enough differences between Bylad and Bylass to warrant the supports being locked, none of the characters specify a specific gender in their dialogue, and as far as different models go, changing models during a cutscene is coded into the game, so that should be no issue.  

After going through the monastery option enough times, the hubworld is in this weird limbo state where it feels like it was made specifically for Byleth’s benefit (faculty training, recruiting party members, etc,) but the rest of the party seems to benefit from it instead (Instructions, Motivation points, etc). The Explore vs Battle options just don’t mix well, which feels like poor design choice. You can focus on auxiliary battles to raise your party’s level, but at the cost of potentially missing out on more party members. You can instead focus on the monastery to recruit party members, but at the cost of Byleth falling behind due to splitting activity points between recruiting and faculty training, and being in the monastery means less time grinding for levels. This isn’t as much of a problem in NG+, but if a game needs NG+ to lessen a design problem, then that’s more of a sign to me that the idea itself needed more ironing out. 

 As far as using the monastery to raise support points goes, the hubworld definitely needs a revamp. The only (good) options available are Meal Time and Choir Practice, with the latter being limited to once per week and the former making me think that the monastery must eat their own weapons to survive due to how fucking scarce food ingredients are. Getting meat and fish isn’t too big of an issue so long as you have enough money, but produce might as well be an urban legend. There were too many times where I had 60+ fish/meat, but produce was at fucking 1. I get that they wanted to be “realistic” in having seeds grow once per week, but if it’s at the cost of a gameplay element being nigh unplayable, then some more thought needs to be put into it. Sothis is a goddess of life and time, maybe her powers allow Byleth to make plants grow faster. Just something to make this section actually playable. 

The final thing I wanted to talk about when it comes to the monastery is that, for some baffling reason, it is entirely possible to lock yourself out of key events like S-supports or being able to choose CF, simply by skipping to the end of the month. I’m not sure why this is a thing. It’s not like the game was designed with speedruns in mind (I mean, it is possible to beat a route in an hour, but fuck me if I ever succeeded in that), and nothing happens like a prompt popping up that you have to explore the monastery during that month or even limiting your options to just Explore (which the game has done before). This is especially weird for the quest in getting Jeralt’s ring (how to access S-supports), since Byleth is supposed to be sad in this month, so not being able to do seminars or Byleth being undeployable during auxiliary battles would make sense. 

The option to choose CF is even worse though, because at least for Jeralt’s ring it’s a Red Quest that doesn’t allow you to finish exploring unless you complete it. For Edelgard, however? A dime-a-dozen quest prompt you can entirely look over and skip. No prompt by the game, no indication to talk to Edelgard, nothing. FFS, Rhea’s tea time quest was given more thought. At least her quest marker is a unique color. 

(End of rant…sort of) 

…So anyways, that was my experience with the game, lmao. Now you or someone else may be thinking, “nonnie, if you had this many problems completing the game, why did you bother?”, and the answer to that good question is…I’m not completely sure, lol. I know there’s more than one reason why, so bear with me here. I know part of it is due to sunk-cost fallacy (“I’m already this far into the game, I might as well fully complete it”), but I think a bigger reason is because I knew ahead of time that the routes were so similar to each other that there was little point in having a route split to begin with (except for CF, but who gives a fuck about that?). Despite all of my bitching, I do really like 3H even if I admit that it’s my least favorite FE game that I’ve played so far. I guess a part of me just wanted to like the game more despite my issues with it. 

Now that I think about it, maybe the main reason was for fear of future mainline games. People are fear to like whatever part of a game that they wish, but I do think that 3H introduced some fundamental storytelling flaws that I’d rather not see repeated in the future, with me focusing on 3 in particular: 1) The Monastery, 2) Route Splits and 3) Byleth. 

Aside from what I already talked about in regards to the monastery, if we are going to get another hubworld in the new FE title, have it to where it doesn’t conflict with how the rest of the story is presented. Is it better to simply tell us that the Western Church is xenophobic in an easily skippable side quest early on, or is it better to show us? Enemy Western Church NPCs going after foreign party members like Dedue or Petra more aggressively and calling them “animals” or the like, the map having Duscari NPCs locking themselves indoors for fear that the Western Church will persecute them, things of that nature. Is it better to tell us that there has been civil unrest in the Empire and the citizens revolting against Edelgard, or is it better to show us? Enemy Adrestian Civilian NPCs, assassins specifically going after Edelgard in a map, maybe one where a large farmland has been stripped bare. Things like that. 

I’d rather do away with the Persona-calendar/Monastery hubworld, but if they are here to stay then they need enough content in it to keep the player engaged for 20-odd chapters, because there isn’t enough content in Garreg Mach to even hold up 12 chapters. Speaking of more content, if there’s going to be another route split in the next title, then there needs to be enough differences in the routes that actually warrants having a route split. Fates already did this well in having the route split be early in the game, along with the plot and story maps of each route being different, you could even skip to the route split moment on subsequent playthroughs, so 3H’s approach in having to play the same 12 chapters 3-4 times just felt like a massive downgrade. Playing multiple routes should feel rewarding rather than tedious, is what I’m trying to say. 

Finally, and most importantly, I know that no one at IS is reading this but on the off chance that someone is - please, for the love of God, do not make another blank-slate/self insert main character like Byleth. Or at the very least, don’t have them be the focal point of the story, it’s a big reason why AM just works better than the other routes. For a game like FE, “self-insert” and “protagonist” goes as well as oil and water. Now, out of those three flaws listed, the Byleth one is what I’m hard set on. The monastery and route split flaws, my opinion might be flexible within reason, but the Byleth one…not so much, lol. If we really do get another self-insert doll for a main character, that alone is going to make the next game a hard sell for me, because seeing all the praise Byleth got (and has been getting) makes me fear that IS is going to take the wrong lesson from this and think they don’t have to put effort in making their protagonist anything resembling an actual person and their audience will still lap it up. It would be one thing if I just hated the character, but I don’t. I’m disappointed, which is even worse.

…With that said, it’s still better than whatever the heck Cap’n’Crunch is doing. Okay, rant over. For real this time.

—

I agree with a lot said here! But I do have a few disagreements, though they’re mostly my opinion than anything else lol

And this first one is probably like, extremely unpopular given how much shit I’ve seen flung at this aspect of 3H, but like… I actually really like the Monastery? Like yes, absolutely, it should have done more to not shelter the player from how bad the war is and it should change more with the world instead of being in this mostly limbo state where apparently seasons don’t real. I definitely also have those complaints, but to me, the Monastery was fine for the most part. A lot of the issues you brought up, like supports and Faculty Training and supplies for eating, weren’t a problem for me almost at all. My only real gripe is with how hard it is for Byleth to get training in Flying, Mounted and especially Heavy Armor without NG+ unlocking weapons ranks, since they don’t have access to Weekly Chores. I do believe I still managed to recruit everyone while only unlocking C in Faith on my Maddening playthrough of GD, but it certainly wasn’t easy. But I feel a lot of the problem people have with it are on subsequent playthroughs where they’re trying to do things like 100% any aspect of 3H, which yeah is gonna exacerbate the issues tenfold. Cuz like, while those three weapons ranks I mentioned are hard for Byleth to raise, on Normal mode you have unlimited auxiliary battles to help with all the other ones. 

Like, I wanted to get Claude’s Dex to the max amount right? Just cuz I felt like it. And in doing that I found out just how tedious it is to get levels once a unit gets to a certain point, just cuz while Normal Mode gives you the Retreat option that lets you keep exp so you can drop a unit down on a yellow spot and get a decent boost in exp… you can do that like, twice or thrice on a story chapter. Once if it’s auxiliary (and not the freebie one). And that’s if you even have internet. And using the greenhouse to get Ailiell Pomegranates was a pain because they weren’t really guaranteed even if I used nothing but the right seed - doing that is more consistent, but not always, and I usually only got one anyway. It was annoying! But I was also doing a specific thing that’s gonna heighten the flaws in the system that I never would have noticed - didn’t even notice - unless I did that. The flaws are still there, don’t get me wrong! The Monastery definitely still needs improvement, battles still need to be a little more streamlined for future playthrough, but the flaws can seem a bit bigger than they are once you do certain things outside of a casual playthrough, know what I mean?

But, for example, when replaying 3H on hard mode and looking to recruit everyone after my no recruitment run, I didn’t come across any dilemma over “recruitment or Byleth being good, pick one.” That was the run my Byleth was usable, in fact - my first blind run that was no recruitment (save for Shamir) had my Byleth be pretty much completely useless while literally everyone else was fine. Also never came across problems with supplies for cooking (or at least not any big enough to comment on). So like, while these (and the above stuff) can certainly be problems for players trying to do everything everything in 3H, at least from my experience I just haven’t come across them. The monastery itself definitely needed a better story implementation, but yeah. I could’ve just been lucky tho lmao

I don’t mind how they implemented trying to get on CF at all tho lol. If you’ve been playing the game like it suggests you do - supporting characters and exploring the monastery  there’s no reason for players to have missed getting on CF. If players wanted to ignore one of the biggest aspects of the game I don’t really feel that bad for them when they miss out on very achievable things. Plus, CF’s requirements are nothing in terms of FE’s madness when it comes to getting on a route. It may be more specific than any other route, but like I said, playing the game as the game tells you to would naturally land you in it (the only thing that might be a bit unfair is that I think if you talk with Edelgard at all that month you have to decide right then and there, and then the whole month is lost. Kinda ass). 

Binding Blade, for example, requires you to do specific things that few first time players would think to do in multiple, random chapters in order for you to get the best ending. With absolutely no warning as to when these chapters happen and what to do in them. And some of these requirements are not fun lmao, I’d prefer how they did it with CF than with how they’ve handled ~secret~ stuff before personally

Pretty much agree with everything else though! While 3H is actually one of my more favored games in the series, I’ll be the first to admit that its storytelling is in dire need of improvement. Having the story and lore of the game just be spat out in lore dumps and this or that NPC just isn’t that good. Or if they are going to do that, at the very least give some visuals to go along with it! Imagine how much impactful Rhea’s story would have been if it was in a visual format, like CGs and/or a cutscene. It still would be an info dump, but at least we can see for ourselves how horrific the Red Canyon was for her! And I do not want another avatar in whatever next mainline game we get, personality or not. We’ve evolved past the need for self-inserts that all the characters Just Like lmao

But thanks for sharing your thoughts!! And sorry that it took so long for me to get to answering ;w; 

#submission #anon #exqueuese me princess #but hey I found the og submission at least!! for some reason it got thrown in like the middle of my drafts?? weird lmao #but yeah overall I do think 3H could've done with some refinement for later more intensive playthroughs #and on the other hand I get why they didn't immediately think of them if that makes sense #also lol yeah the base game is infinitely more fun that whatever Cap'n'n doin' lmao

[squidlyskeet]

Joyride -0.008

Pairing: StreetRacer!Bakugou x Fem!reader

Genre: TokyoDrift!au, Noquirks!au

Status: Ongoing

TW: Violence, Blood, firearms, eventual nsfw, 18+, mentions of anxiety and OCD disorders, grand theft auto, gang activity, eventual soft yandere Bakugou.

Summary:

It started with a simple question. “What do you say Y/n? You coming?”

After the sudden death of her mother, Y/n is sent to live with her estranged aunt who made a home in Tokyo, Japan. Weary of what this new adventure might mean for her future, Y/n lets loose for her first night there, but how was Y/n supposed to know it would lead to a car chase? A car chase in the passenger seat of a very angry, very hot, street racer’s super car.

A/n: TW FOR GUNS THIS CHAPTER. I REPEAT GUNS!!! Bold Italics means the words are spoken in Japanese. -Squidlyskeet ✌🏻✌🏻

Ringing woke me up, the blaring noise from my phone making me sit straight up in my bed. I checked the time, reading two thirty in the morning and groaned before throwing my blankets around trying to find the offending object.

Finally I found it, reading the caller I.d. before hiccuping in surprise and sliding off the side of the bed, ass first, effectively chucking the phone directly across the room. It hit the opposite wall with a dull thud and dropped to the floor still ringing.

“Jesus shit that hurt,” I rubbed my but cheek, worming my way across the floor with my legs still wrapped in the blankets.

The ringing stopped momentarily, made the sound that notifies me I have a voicemail, and then began ringing again.

What the fuck? Why at two thirty in the goddamn morning.

I picked the phone back up, rolling my eyes and hit the green button before whisper yelling at the man on the other end of the phone.

“Why are you calling me a two in the morning?” My voice was quiet, and hopefully stern.

“Why are you whispering? And this was the only time I had available, I had to sleep and then I had to go on a missi- Job as soon as I got back. This is the first minute I’ve had to myself. How did your day go?” Bakugou, the fucking asshole, replied.

“You’re telling me. That you woke me up in the middle of the night when I have to be up for an hour and a half. To ask me how my day went?” I gritted out.

I was not a good waking up person. Sleep was my only solace from reality, and I got pissy when even that is taken from me.

“Why do you have to be up in an hour and a half? And I’m still waiting on your repro- on how your day went. I don’t like waiting so speak the fuck up.” Bakugou demanded.

I didn’t want to admit it, but somehow, the quiet gravel of Bakugou’s voice soothed me in a way I couldn’t explain. He was rough around the edges, but again -even if it was the middle of the night- he called me to make sure I was okay, and asked how my day went. No one had ever done that before, so with a huff I caved and gave him a play by play of how the entire day went. From Shinsou and Kaminari’s horrible singing all the way to coming home and what I had for dinner.

“Good. You ate then? Also I don’t see why you need a job. Especially if you start school in a few days, Fukurodani High school is no cake walk. Hah. I’ll give it a week.” The angry man began laughing on the other end of the phone.

“Also. The two idiots will have to keep driving you for the next couple of days because I have to go out of town for a search and ki- another job. I can take you to work today though,..if you wanted me too. Or whatever.” Bakugou’s words became gruff with his last statement.

I giggled, rolling to my back on the floor.

“Well if you hadn’t offered I’d most likely have to walk so I think i'll take you up on it.” I replied, smiling.

“I better never find out that you're walking anywhere.”

I smiled.

“And if you do?”

“Then someone’s gonna have a problem in the shape of a chain, their ankle, and my bumper.”

“My my Bakugou, that’s not very heroic of you. And here I thought you were trying to be my knight in shining armor.”

I heard him scoff on the other end of the line.

“I never said I was your hero babygirl, in fact, if I were you, I’d stay away from a man like me.” Bakugou’s voice held a smirk.

“Now how am I supposed to stay away from you if you go and say something like that?”

Bakugou was silent for a second, before clearing his throat.

“Start getting ready. I’m taking you to work today, I know where it’s at. I’m parking down the street, but I’ll walk to the door. Make sure you're ready to go at three thirty sharp.”

Again with the drill sergeant bit. Jeez.

“Yes sir!” I playfully replied.

I heard Bakugou choke, clearly surprised and thoroughly confusing me.

“Y/n.” He commanded, stern.

“What?”

“If you know what’s good for you. You won’t call me Sir anymore.”

Confusion ate at me further until I took in his new tone.

Deeper.

Heated.

A fierce blush crept from my neck all the way to my forehead, and it was only getting hotter.

“R-right, o-okay. I’ll see you in an hour.” I squeaked, before hanging up the phone as fast as I could. I threw it back across the room onto my bed, and stared at the ceiling for a minute holding my hot cheeks.

I laughed. Uncontrollably. Raising my blanket to my face to muffle my embarrassed screams.

What the fuck was right.

——————————————————

Fukurodani Prefecture High school.

It was an intimidating place, and the culture shock was felt intensely when Shinsou dropped me off at the front gates this morning. The structure was different than what would be the norm in the states, and the uniform left a lot to be desired. The plaid skirt fit of black and yellow fit a little too short, and the blazer felt a little too formal.

Noel went out of her way to tell me everything that would likely be different here, but even still experiencing it first hand was surreal. They didn’t have a lunch period, they only brought bento boxes that they ate in their home rooms. I was to change my shoes when first arriving, and expected to join a club or activity after school. Although in my few days Yin early in the mornings, she informed me that working with her at the bakery could be considered a type of home ec, and they wouldn’t put up too much of a fuss about considering it that.

Finding my way around the school was very much my biggest struggle so far, and I huffed when I remembered what Noel said.

“I know you were originally meant to go to Nekoma, but Mirio and I decided that you’d be better off going to a school like Fukurodani. If you’re okay with it that is. It looks better on Uni applications, not that you have to do that either. You just might not know what you might want ten years down the road..” Noel’s tone was nonchalant as she snacked on her sandwich, eyes focused on the movie on the TV.

“Why would one public school compared to another look better?” I asked, shoving more popcorn in my face.

“Because it isn’t a public school.” She stated simply.

“You’re sending me to a private school?!” My voice raised a pitch, cracking in the middle. “Doesn’t that like..cost money?” I asked, incredulous.

“You don’t have to worry about it. It’s been paid for.” Noel clipped, ending the conversation. But I wasn’t done.

“BY WHO?!?” The last thing I wanted to worry about was owing someone however much it cost to go to some prissy private school.

“I’m not telling you. Now watch the movie.” Noel’s voice held a warning, and with a huff I backed down. For the moment.

It was a mystery really, unless it was Noel herself I had no idea who could have possibly paid for me to come here. On top of that, strings were pulled for me to come here on such short notice. I wasn’t dumb, and I was grateful, I just wanted to know who would put that kind of effort into someone like me.

I sat at my assigned desk at the back of the classroom that was meant to be my home room. No one has made an effort to talk to me yet, and I didn’t know if that made me feel bad or relieved that I didn’t have to speak. Especially if it meant I had to speak in my broken Japanese I’d been learning from Shinsou and Noel. The contents of the bento box that sat open in front of me looked unfamiliar, and the knee high socks were cutting off the circulation to my calves.

I knew I was only working myself up, but nothing was familiar, I felt out of place and uncomfortable.

I felt my phone ping with a text message.

From SIRbakugou: It should be about your lunch. How is your first day at school?

Looking down at my phone screen, it was like my lungs opened up. I hadn’t heard from him for days and I was getting a little nervous. Since I’d known the man, he’s always been super obscure about what he does in his spare time, only ever asking me how my day went.

And as I finally breathed deeply for the first time in ten minutes, I smiled. Then my smile grew wider when against my better judgement I sent him a meme.

From SIRbakugou: I swear to god your dumb as hell. Answer the question.

Ugh.

To SIRbakugou: I feel very out of place, but other than that the classes are similar enough to the advanced ones I was taking in the states.

From SIRbakugou: Keep me updated.

I decided not to text him back, letting me keep a little mystery too. At least I’d hoped. I’ve realized by now that this wasn’t exactly how the elusive ‘talking’ went, as there was really no getting to know each other. Or to be more clear there was no me getting to know him. Thus far I’ve rambled about myself and worn my thoughts on my sleeves around him enough for him to get the general gist. Even still, I continued to talk to him, who was I to judge or criticize the courting process here. If that’s even if this was.

The thought of Bakugou trying to woo me..well it didn’t put me off nearly as much as I thought it would. That was enough to not allow myself to text him back in itself. After all, I hadn’t seen him since the awkward silent car ride to work a few days ago.

“Don’t think too hard, you might hurt yourself.” Someone said as they sat next to me, uninvited.

“Bokuto Kotaro. It’s nice to meet you. It looked like you didn’t know whether to scream or run for a minute so I decided I’d come ease the tension.”

A brick shit house was what the silver haired man was. He kind of reminded me of Kirishima with his wholesome smile, and soft amber eyes. None of that took away from the fact that there was very much a stranger potentially hitting on me.

“U-uh Y/n..” I replied, hoping he’d get the point.

It seems he did, because after a minute of searching my face he let off the deepest belly laugh I’d ever heard, and he sat just like that, laughing hysterically until tears were falling from his eyes.

“Don’t..whew..don’t worry Y/n, I’m as straight as a volleyball, and everyone here knows it. Although you’re a very pretty girl, I don’t really swing that way. Sorry to add to your disappointments.” Bokuto’s smile somehow grew tenfold, and I -even though it made me feel terrible- felt much better about conversing with him.

I didn’t do well with random interest thrown at me.

“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to offend you if I did..” My brow furrowed, I wanted to ask questions, but if I were being honest I was embarrassed with myself. “Do you think..maybe you could help me find my next class after this one is over?”

“Of course, what kind of senpai would I be if I didn’t?” Bokuto replied, puffing his chest out like that was something to be proud of.

Whatever..a senpai was..?

“Oh thank god. If I’m not late because I’m lost it’s because I was trampled by a hoard of frantic students. Glad I have you, two birds one stone and all that. No one is trampling you.” I mumbled and laughed to myself, unaware he heard me too.

His second round of laughing brought it to my attention, and he slapped my back with a little force. It took the air out of my lungs but it was all in good fun, so I let it slide.

“You know, I like you Y/n. Do you wanna come with me and some friends to the gym after school? We play volleyball.” Bokuto said as he began to stand.

“I’m sorry, I have someone pick me up after school. Then I have to go to work, I wish I could though.” I pretend pouted as I stood to follow the silver haired man from the room.

“No worries, maybe a different day. Now let me see that schedule of yours, no time to waste.” Bokuto held his hand out, and I pulled the translated paper from my pocket.

“Don’t worry Y/n, it gets easier.”

I sure hoped so.

———————————

“Wow…You’re with him? In the Jaguar?”

Bokuto’s voice was incredulous, his mouth agape and if I looked hard enough with hearts in his eyes.

“Like with him or with him because neither. He’s just a friend of the family doing my uncle a favor by driving me to school and back.” I replied, looking at the unfamiliar black car with well placed lightning bolt decals.

It was a nice car, I’ll say that at least.

“Anyways I should go, thank you for walking me to the car!” Bokuto shot me a suspicious look as I smiled and waved walking away.

“Yeah..I’ll see you tomorrow.” He waved back before turning around and heading back toward the school.

I walked toward the black car that stuck out like a sore thumb in the pick up line for students, and for the first I was embarrassed. I didn’t want any extra attention, and this was not helping that particular situation.

I opened the door, sitting in the seat before even I even looked at who was in the driver's seat. It obviously wasn’t Bakugou or Shinsou, so it didn’t matter. Until a familiar voice spoke up.

“What no hello?” Kaminari laughed.

“Uhhhgg. Jesus fucking Christ. It’s you.” I groaned, crossing my arms and rubbing my hands down my face.

I shut the door and motioned for him to go, but not before he started laughing harder.

“You know the rules Y/n.” Kaminari playfully demanded.

I shot him a look and rolled my eyes before reaching for the uncomfortable harness. When I was fully buckled, I motioned once more and Kaminari finally complied, revving the engine and garnering even more attention from my peers in the courtyard.

“So how was it?” His voice sounded honest, but I couldn’t bring myself to recount the exhaustion that was today.

“Fine. How come I’ve never seen you driving?” I fired back.

“Don’t change the subject to things that are irrelevant, I just wanna know how school went, everyone back at the shop is curious too.” Kaminari continued.

“I wanna know why I’ve never seen you in the driver's seat before.” I pressed further, unaware of his rising irritation.

“Jesus. It’s because I’ve gotten one to many DUI’s and wrecks under my belt to be trusted with carg- with parts. We haul parts for cars as cargo. So I navigate, does that answer your question?” Kaminari sighed.

Yes actually it did, but now I felt bad. Why when I finally have the nerve to say something all that comes out of my mouth is just snarky word vomit. I decided to change the subject all together.

“Do you wanna scream music at pedestrians?” I asked, face still stoically straight.

“Has anyone ever told you you’d be really good at poker? And yes!! I thought you’d never ask.” Kaminari smiled, turning up the radio and singing.

I was singing quietly, looking in the mirror when I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. A black sedan, it looked almost like it was..following us. That’s not what concerned me though. What really concerned me was the emblem on the side I immediately recognized. A red rose.

Wasn’t that..?

“Hey Kaminari?” I kept looking out the mirror, blindly slapping his shoulder with my left hand.

He turned down the radio, “What?” He asked, unbothered.

“Do you see that?” I pointed my finger behind us, and Kaminari followed the direction until finally, he spotted it too.

I watched a Kaminari’s eyes visibly widened, panic flashing in them, as they ghosted over the rear view mirror and back to me several times. If I wasn’t mistaken, he looked like he was about to melt into an anxiety attack, and that just wouldn’t do. If he is panicked like this, we need to figure out how to get away from them.

“Alright, Kami, Kami can you hear me. Breath. In and out.” I motioned breathing, hoping he’d follow the movements and copy them. I was thankful when finally, the yellow haired man snapped out of it and started to process the situation.

“Shit. SHIT. SHIT.” He was at a red light, and it allowed him a second to run his hands through his hair and work up what I assumed was a plan.

“Okay. Okay. Y/n. Unbuckle your harness and get underneath the dash, try not to let them see you moving around, okay? When we turn that corner right there, I want you to climb over the dash as fast as you can past the tanks and behind the backseat. There is no separator between the backseat and trunk so you should fit fine.” He shifted gears as the light turned green, and I began unbuckling the harness. “They are going to stop me, you can’t make a peep, okay? No matter what you see, you can’t make a peep.”

I nodded my head, following his instruction, fully unbuckling the harness and throwing myself to the floor beneath the dash of the passenger seat. I was shaking, but I knew I had to keep myself together for the sake of Kaminari. If I started to lose it, I had a feeling he’d lose it twice as bad.

I watched as he picked up the comms device I've seen in all the cars so far.

“Chargebolt to Ground Zero. I’ve got the south on my six. LITTLE CHICK IS IN THE CAR. I REPEAT I’VE GOT LITTLE CHICK IN THE CAR. WHAT ARE MY ORDERS? OVER.”

He slammed it back down, as a familiar voice answered his call. It was Bakugou’s voice, and even if he wasn't speaking to me, and it wasn’t in a language I understood. It calmed me down. This was just like our car chase, and it was terrible to say, but I wished that it was Bakugou in that drivers seat instead of Kaminari. I wished that I was smelling burnt sugar and gasoline, instead of th black ice of this car, and the green and orange interior that I thought complimented each other so well.

“That was Bakugou, he is on his way as well as a few others. He’ll take you when he gets here.” Kaminari shifted again and turned the wheel, and I took that as my que.

I shot out from under the dash, and as agile as I could manage I pushed myself forward through the space between the seats. It happened to be just my bad luck that as soon as Kaminari had straightened out, he sped up. Like a lot. I launched forward, unable to stop my body, my head collided with one of the tanks hard enough to rattle my skull. I groaned, rubbing my head, but I shook it off when I remembered that Kaminari needed me to do this. I kept pushing, finally reaching the space he told me about. He wasn’t lying when he said that it was small, I hardly fit, but I made it work.

“Are you in?” Kaminari asked from the front.

“Yes.” I replied, trying not to focus on the slight trickle of liquid slithering it’s way down my forehead.

Before anything else could be said, Kaminari was stopping the car. Pulling over on a deserted industrial road somewhere.

How was Bakugou going to know where we were?

I silently tried to pull my phone from my pocket, turning off the sound and opening the maps app. I clicked the button I needed, and breathed out when I successfully pin dropped our location to Bakugou.

Please get here soon, I’m scared.

A door slammed from behind us, and I led my breath for what felt like hours as two men approached Kaminari’s car. He rolled down his window, greeting them with a smile in true Kaminari fashion. I had no idea how because looking at them through the small opening between the back seat and the door, I realized just how real this situation this was. Both men looked like men for hire. Littered in scars. Carrying weapons.

“How can I help you gentlemen?” Kaminari’s tone could win awards with the steady pitch he spoke at.

“Tell us why you were in the southside with a tagged car.” The man sounded Russian, which among other things blew my mind.

“This car doesn’t race, nor does it carry cargo.” Was Kaminari’s only answer.

“That’s not what I asked you, you fucking dimwit.” The man’s tone was harsher now.

The sun was in my eyes and all I could see at first was a glint in the reflection of the mirror on the driver’s side door. Tears gathered in my eyes, and I clamped my hand over my mouth. My eyes widened in fear.

I tried to hold in the whimper that was trying it’s hardest to escape from my mouth as the first tear of terror swelled over my eyelid and slid down my face.

I prayed to any god that would listen to please just let Bakugou get here as fast as he could.

Because there was a gun pointed at Kaminari’s head.

—————————————

Taglist: @thatonegeekchick​ @garnet-redtailedhero​ @nightlygiggless​ @miydizzle3000​ @akaashisus​ @notyourfavorIte @oikawasb1tch​ @breadmouthbread

Again, let me know if I missed you 😊💕

-Squidlyskeet ✌🏻

MASTERLIST

#my hero academia #mha #this took a lot longer than i thought it would #uhgggg #bnha au #bnha fluff #bakugou x fem!reader #mha angst #mha au #bnha angst #bnha bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bakugou x y/n #kaminari angst #but bruh