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spenciegoob · 3 years

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Swing to the Stars

this fic swap is for @reidgraygubler ... I really hope you like it, shadow :)

A/N: AAAAH! this is my first fic swap and I’M SO EXCITED!!!!

Summary: Spencer meets someone in his little hiding spot, and desperately hopes to see them again.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral!Reader

Category: fluff with a dash of angst

Content Warnings: mentions of Maeve & William Reid, talk of a case involving teens, mentions of bullying, mentions of guns and pepper spray (not used)

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

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The first time I climbed that treacherous hill, dirtying my converse for all to see what my night activities truly consisted of, I was alone. I enjoyed it like that, I came here by myself, and I intended to keep it that way. When I sat on the swing dangling by two dangerously flimsy ropes, I thought how ridiculously large the slap of wood used to make it was. My elbows were bent a little over a 90 degree angle just to reach both sides, but I never thought past it. I had other things on my mind that night.

I thought about my mom. I knew she would have loved a secluded, little space like this. She would’ve probably read to me here, using different voices that held deep emotion to convey each story with a precise amount of dedication and love. Each story to her was special, and I silently thank her every day for passing that trait down to me.

Unfortunately, if I thought about my mom, I thought about my dad. William was never a kind man, and I could pride myself on one thing; I would never be like him. He didn’t deserve to know a place like this. It was too serene, too beautiful to house a man so willing to abandon the two people who should’ve been the most important to him. I was glad he would never get the chance to sit on this swing.

I thought about my family. How Garcia would jump with excitement at the prospect of having a picnic overlooking the city, yet quiet and missing the sounds of cars zooming by or overlapping chatter. I thought about JJ, and how Henry would beg her to push him in the swing, because to a little kid, it was perfect. He didn’t look at the frayed rope and fear that it would snap. I hope he never starts to fear the world like that.

The second time I found myself back at the bottom of the hill, I made it halfway to the top before seeing a couple getting up from the swing they were sitting together on. I realized then why it was so comically large; it was meant for two people. Thankfully when I reached the top only half out of breath, the two were starting their descent to where I came from.

This time when I sat down, I thought about Maeve. I would’ve brought her here, shared the little secret corner of the world I built for myself. She would’ve loved something like this, and I know if life wasn’t so cruel, and I was given the chance to show her, we would’ve talked for hours. So that’s what I did that time; I talked to Maeve. To anyone else, I probably looked like a crazy person talking to himself, but much to my delight, not many people made the trip up the hill to find this place.

Now I go whenever I need a break from my mind, which unfortunately is more times than my schedule allows me to take that leisurely walk. I spend my nights sometimes after a particularly hard case there no matter the time, using the ropes that scratch my hands as my lifeline down to Earth. I watch the stars, screaming and cursing at the world in my head and waiting for the sky to respond. It never did, and the next case always came in the following morning.

This particular time that I found myself at the bottom of the grassy hill waiting to be climbed, the case I just returned from involved kids across the board. A teenage unsub was killing his fellow classmates that have wronged him. Unfortunately, the BAU had to witness his stressor recorded for the whole school to see. It involved vile insults being thrown at the young, defenseless boy only for the bullying to escalate to violence.

It was awful.

As I trudged up the hill with less excitement to look into the vast unknown than usual, I couldn’t stop thinking about the unsub. All he wanted in life was a friend, someone to talk to, laugh with, share memories together. No matter how wrong it was, I saw myself in him. Our souls held the same scars given to us by people who had no right to go digging for such a deep part of ourselves. If I didn’t make it, would I have turned out like him?

When I reached the top, completing my journey once again, I saw them. Sitting there, staring out into the sky, mimicking my thoughts to do the same on the jet ride home. I could only make out half their face lit up by the light casting down from the full moon, but I didn’t need to see more to know they were breathtaking.

I would have turned around to return home to nothing more than books reread thousands of times and stale coffee, but I already made the mistake of stepping on a rather large branch that broke in half. The crunch coming from their right immediately had them on edge, and reaching for their bag that I could only assume had some sort of weapon inside. I hope it was legal.

I felt terrible for breaking them from the trance they were in. They were deep in thought about something that was probably going to become a solution if I hadn't interrupted their musing.

“H-hi, I’m sorry to scare you. I didn’t expect anyone here this late. Not that you being here is a problem! I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I frantically shouted, although there was less distance between us than I originally thought, and probably seemed crazed by my volume level.

They just giggled at first, but upon seeing my distraught expression, their face turned more kind than humorous.

“That’s okay. I’m just glad I didn’t jump so fast to pepper spray you. That would definitely be the worst case scenario.” I let out a breath of relief for some reason. Here I was, in front of a total stranger thankful that their weapon of choice wasn’t a gun. I’ve been on the wrong end of too many during my years.

“Did you know Chemical Mace, more commonly known as pepper spray, was invented in the 1960s by a man named Alan Lee Litman and his wife Doris Litman at the time. Their reason was actually because one of Doris’s female coworkers was attacked and robbed, so they thought to create a nonlethal weapon with easy accessibility and use, considering not everyone is able to use a gun. It wasn’t until 1987 however that the Litman’s sold their creation to Smith and Wesson where it was mass produced and later sold to law enforcement.”

“Wow, I don’t think I did.” They laughed again, but something in my heart told me it wasn’t meant to come with malicious intent. “Do you do that a lot?”

“Do what?” I asked, even though I had some inclination of what they were referencing.

“Spout random facts. I’m not complaining, that was very cool, but I am fully intrigued.” They smiled again at me fondly, the kind of smile that left me a little breathless, even more so than the 45 degree incline I had to climb to find myself in front of them. There was nothing to convince me they weren’t authentic in every word they stated.

“I do it quite often, yes. It gets annoying after a while though.” It was true, I was told on many occasions that my rambling got old very fast. I suppose that’s what happens when you’re close to me for too long. I tend to stop being the awe-striking genius, and become the nagging, walking encyclopedia.

“I don’t see how that could become annoying.” It sounded sad coming from them, like I had insulted their oddity. I would never, and I was really hoping to find out what it was.

I had nothing further to say that would express my shock, and slight fondness over their praise, wary of its honesty even if it did come from them. I hadn’t known them for more than 4 minutes and 36 seconds, but it was enough to figure out that they weren’t a liar. It wasn’t from profiling either.

“You know, there is room for two people here if you wanted to join me. I’m sure you didn’t climb that hill for nothing.” They continued for me. If they noticed my surprise, they said nothing about it.

Usually, I would be skeptical of being in a close proximity with a stranger, but as I approached them carefully, even if their hand was no longer reaching for mace, I felt the passing between our eyes. It was as if we had shared every part of ourselves with eye contact, and as crazy as it sounds, I felt the somber thoughts that lingered from their previous reflections.

So I sat down, grabbing onto only one of the scratchy ropes, and enjoying the way I could rest my elbow against my side now that I was using the swing to its fullest potential. I stopped caring about the probability of the ropes snapping under our combined body weight. The worst that could possibly happen was I bruised my tailbone a little bit, but I wouldn’t care past the initial embarrassment. At least I had someone to show that with.

“Do you ever think about what’s out there?” They asked once I was settled on the wood slab as comfortably as I could muster. Being boney didn’t necessarily help. Before I could answer, they continued. “I can tell you’re a man of science, if the fact dump wasn’t any indicator, but I mean beyond the facts, and the known.”

“No, I don’t think about it.” It was a lie, I think about it every time I’m here, but I wanted nothing more in this moment than to know how they saw the stars.

“I do. Quite frequently, actually. I mean, I’ve read every book there ever was about the stars and space, but there is still no answer to my question.”

“What question?” I had to know.

“What’s exactly written in the stars,” they replied, using their hands to showcase the sky above us. I sat back and thought for a while. Like the books they’ve read, I too didn’t have the response to their question. God, how I wish I did.

I don’t know how long we sat there quietly. One of the perks of total darkness in the dead of night is that the moon couldn’t tell time the way the sun did. We got lost in the cosmos together, contemplating sharing our own troubled thoughts with each other. It would have felt right if we did, but alas, the ringing of my cell phone dropped a pin in our reflections.

“I- I’m sorry, I have to take this,” I rushed out before standing up and accepting the incoming call from Penelope. I knew it was a case before her bubbly voice rang through my celular. I allowed the disappointment to bleed through my tone when I told her I would be back at the BAU shortly, hoping that the small release of the emotion would be enough to ward it off in time to turn back around.

It didn’t.

They were already looking at me expectantly when I made my way back to the swing, bending down to retrieve my satchel I had abandoned on the ground. The amount of guilt on my face must have been enough to tell them I had to leave abruptly, despite the fact that the only thing I wanted to do was stay for even just a second.

“That’s okay,” they spoke softly, giving me a tight lipped smile. “We’ll see each other again.”

“How do you know?” I couldn’t help but be skeptical. Life never did work out in my favor. They looked up at the sky once more before answering.

“Just a feeling.” I let a full grin break out at their response, the first one I’ve had when visiting this place. I turned around to start my journey back to the office where dark, and twisted things lurked behind manilla folders. Before starting my descent however, I spun around quickly, almost losing my footing and taking a tumble.

“Woah there tiger, don’t hurt yourself,” they giggled at me, one that I returned with my own breathy laugh.

“I just don’t know your name.” It baffled me a little bit that I hadn’t thought to ask before this, but they just gave me one last smile, tilting their head in faux contemplation.

“Ask me next time.” I will.

***

It’s been a year since I met them, and I haven’t seen them since. Not for a lack of trying however. After that case, I went there every night until a new one arose, this time taking me to Oregon. They hadn’t been back, and part of me wondered if it was because of me. Did I not try hard enough the first time? Should I have ignored my ringer until my phone had 5 missed calls from Penelope?

But then my eidetic memory swooped in to save me from going down that road, one of the only times it wasn’t the cause of my self destructive thoughts. Because while I replayed the conversation over in my head wondering where it went wrong, I remembered their eyes, and their smile.

I remembered what it felt like to sit with them, and thankfully that was enough to convince myself our meeting wasn’t in vain.

I never was the kind of man to believe in the universe. The whole notion that “everything happens for a reason,” felt like a lie created to somehow blame an external force on the chaos in one’s life. There were so many things in my life that had no reason for happening, and to blame that on anything or anyone but myself would be a cheap excuse of a way out.

But for some odd reason, the universe aside, I believed in them, and strangely enough, I don’t think they would have blamed me for the life I had to live. So, as I sit down tonight on this familiar piece of wood, I choose to stare at the stars instead of the ground, and believe that if I spoke aloud, maybe they would hear me.

And they did, because my efforts to sit on one side of the swing in case they returned to me were not in vain. I didn’t look over, I didn’t have to to know it was them. I had already relaxed once their presence was known in my peripherals.

“Y/N,” they spoke, causing me to change my view on the stars to their side profile. It wasn’t all that different than staring at the constellations spread around us. “My name’s Y/N.”

___

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allyouneedisbuck · 3 years

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Tee’s Summer Reads 🖤

hi all! as summer comes to a close and classes start back up again, i wanted to come on here and share some pieces i read over break that i just loved.

as always, heed to any and all warnings each creator has put in place. eighteen plus spaces deserve respect and you are urged to show them it.

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Bucky Barnes

i wished one the moon for you by @sunmoonandbucky • “After losing Bucky, you were devastated. So when Howard Stark asks for volunteers for an experiment, you're the first in line.” -> 40s buck & present bucky? love that lasts through time? love it

the shot heard round the tower & unwarranted weakness by @pellucid-constellations • “you just want to know if bucky has feelings for you. bucky just wants you to be okay.” -> these two pieces can be read separately, but i highly suggest reading them both because bucky is written so well and they made me feel warm all over.

see the world the way you do by @vanderlustwords • “you start to see color when you meet your soulmate. bucky thinks that soulmates are a one of a kind thing.” -> there are So many lines in this that just... sit with you. i felt so much reading this. that tight feeling in your chest, pure happiness, anger... i just absolutely loved this.

a little old fashioned by @gogolucky13 • “bucky is a bit subtle in telling you he likes you.”-> behold...sweet, shy comfort fic bucky. i go back and read this when i’m sad.

he’s a good friend by @markandlexies • “reader is tired of watching bucky go on dates with leah and flirt with sarah.” -> give me all the oblivious, pining friends to lovers. just incredible writing and a truly lovely piece.

tap by @houseravenclaws • “bucky never talked much, he fell in love anyway.” -> you KNOW i already love sarah’s writing, it was on my last list. HERE’S MORE! this fic tore me apart in the best way and i still think about it all the time. it has become a go to.

all the good things by @/houseravenclaws • “bucky’s been a little more than happy recently. sam thinks it has something to do with the pretty girl on the team.” -> need i say more? i needn’t say more.

i love you, you idiot by @chrisevansjellybeans • “we’re best friends but won’t say we’re in love trope.” -> this fic made my heart sore. i love when writers have the ability to show love through the smallest of details and this fic did that so well.

the things you’ve done by @divine-mistake • “what if the world ended tomorrow and all he did was spend his last day with you thinking about how you never hold his metal hand and you never walk on his left side and you constantly reach for his right arm?” -> OHHHHHHHHH MAN oh man this fic left me in shambles. absolute shambles and gave me a big, bright smile. insecure!bucky just does something to me. bucky is written perfectly in this.

cornerstone by @agentofbarnes • this is a piece of zee’s (incredible) barnes’ au where bucky and reader (babydoll) are married with kids. -> i love the entire barnes’ au, but this piece honestly meant so much to me??? seeing bucky as an incredibly loving and open father just makes me so happy.

leather jacket full of cats by @bucksfucks • “bucky brings home kittens.” -> nora doesn’t write fluff, but when she does it comes out absolutely incredible???? bucky and kittens?? PLEASE this made so happy (hi keep an eye out for more of nora’s work in the nsfw section)

bulova by @babycap • “in the five years between the two snaps that changed it all, life had moved on, as life is want to do. In the aftermath of that final battle, you discover that time waited for no one (least of all you), and those you loved marched forward into it without you. Sam suggests you volunteer at the local retirement community to keep you busy, keep your mind from lingering on what—and who—you lost. In giving back, you find that time can be just as generous as it is cruel.” -> this is a babycap (dev my love) fan account. i have never read such beautiful words & i am always so stunned by the amazing works that dev puts out. i get so excited to read them.

sunset by @belladonnabarnes • “bucky meets a pretty girl and her little sister at the zoo.” -> how did you know it was my dream to meet bucky at the zoo jaye?????? ahhhhh i loved this fic so much, it was so incredibly sweet i had the dopiest smile on my face when reading it.

crawl home to her by @wkemeup • “stranded without coms, alone, and bleeding out in the middle of a russian snow storm, bucky is content to let nature take its course. only you won’t seem to let him go.” -> this fic is a masterpiece. a genuine piece of art. i was on the edge of my seat reading it, hoping i could faster than possible just to find out if bucky made it.

suburbia by @/wkemeup • “posing as husband and wife, you and bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a hydra hacker. perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.” -> yeah this one HURT. in the best way, an absolute favorite. so so so good.

that was premonition, i think by @divine-mistake • “sometimes you wish you had never fallen in love with bucky. screw that ‘it’s better to have loved and lost’ bullshit. you wish you had never fallen in love with bucky barnes.” -> just so so good. i was speechless after reading.

Others

Sam Wilson

the summertime and butterflies all belong to your creation by @golden-bucky • “you’ve never been one for baseball, but sam wilson is enough to change your mind.” -> ok. listen. i HAVE always loved baseball and this fic made me dream of mr. sam wilson in a lil uniform and me cheering him on. it was so sweet and i just loved it. a dream come true.

scary love by @bvckysmoon • “the first ‘i love yous’ are always scary.” -> being in love with sam wilson? yes please! this fic is so tooth achingly sweet, i adore it.

that way by @belouva • “you don’t know what label to fall under anymore. were you his roommate, friend or his lover?” -> i love roommate! sam… the first two parts of this series are so good.

Steve Rogers

you don’t know by @/divine-mistake • “until her gaze falls on you and her lovesick puppy dog eyes morph into saucers, leaving her frozen in pure shock. that visage quickly melts away to reveal a smug smile, aimed right at you, and you know exactly what she’s thinking at this moment.” -> steve & plus-size reader! i actually teared up, this fic hit really close to home and is beautifully written.

Spencer Reid

the one where everyone finds out by @reidscanehand • “Spencer Reid is in love with Y/N, and she’s in love with him...only they don’t know it yet...and they might be are definitely going to be the very last to know. And since Spencer and Y/N happen to be surrounded by the best profilers in the country, the rest of the team is, of course, the first to piece together the romance. Little by little, bit by bit, the team solves the case of Spencer and Y/N.” -> i constantly go back and reread this fic… it means so much to me!

work wife by @differentkettleoffishalltogether • “Spencer can’t help but feel a little jealous when it seems like his best friend is interested in someone else.” -> best friend spencer & love confessions? yeah that’s what i like.

Aaron Hotchner

dream a little dream by @ssahotchswife • “Following an injury, the reader dreams about time spent with Aaron Hotchner and his son. She relives heartbreak about Aaron's relationship with Beth and the love she has for Jack. Aaron must come to terms with his feelings for the reader when she wakes.” -> aaron hotchner is my comfort man and this fic makes my chest ache

NSFW

just friends by @/bucksfucks • “you and chris are just friends, right?” -> chris evans please i’m free on saturday

forbidden fruit by @/bucksfucks • “you attempt to set your ex’s things on fire. bucky has a better idea.” -> dadsbestfriend!bucky has my heart and it’s literally because of nora’s writing

appointments by @buckycuddlebuddy • “bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him.” -> ooooooooof i love this lil series so much

— ➶ —

these are all of my summer reads!!! i’ll definitely post another one after fall semester, this will most likely be a seasonal thing.

#good reads #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #sam wilson x reader #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotch x reader

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theimmaterialplace · 3 years

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holding on | emily prentiss x reader & spencer reid x reader | ch. 1: prologue

Summary: Emily is an easy person to love, even if you shouldn't. This becomes apparent when she leaves you after two years of hiding your relationship, if you could call it that, with just a text. It's not long after that you are alerted with news of her death and you break down completely. Confiding in Spencer, the one to introduce the two of you, seemed like a good idea at the time but it becomes something more. You slowly begin to heal and then one day you see her, alive and well, and every feeling you have for her comes back to you. You're met with both your present and your past and you don't know what to do.

Contains: female!reader, bisexual!reader, friends with benefits/ hidden relationships, mentions of death, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2k

A.N: I like making things complicated and messy so here we are! I hope you enjoy whatever the hell this is! Also, this is first time writing for cm so sorry if the characterization is off; we’ll get there eventually!

masterlist | read on ao3

I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and hold you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

And I can wish all I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus I know whatever happens to me

I know it's for the better

- Phoebe Bridgers, "Waiting Room"

It’s not uncommon for you to wait on Emily but even this is a new level of tardiness you’ve never encountered with her. She’s nothing if not kind and always alerts you when she’s on a new case or has to reschedule. It worries you to say the least.

You really shouldn’t care this much for her but mistakes are supposed to be made. It’s just that you can’t even begin to consider Emily a mistake but if she is one, she’s the best mistake you’ve ever made.

Sometimes, you think she looks at you with something akin to adoration in her eyes and it takes every bit of your control not to look at her with that same exact look. She’s a profiler, after all, and you’re typically one to wear your heart on your sleeve but she made herself very clear in the beginning.

Your agreement was simply just a friends with benefits situation, no feelings involved. That lasted for a while, truly. You had managed a little over a year with her before you realized that the feeling in your stomach was the fluttering of butterflies. It had frightened you but you decided that she was worth it, even if the decision might come back to haunt you.

Twirling the wine of glass in your hand, you contemplate calling her but decide against it because you don’t want to seem desperate. It may be an accurate description but you weren’t going to show that. Ignoring the waiter who’s been shooting you knowing looks for the past hour, you decide just to leave. You call the waiter over and ask for the check. He just nods at your words; his eyes filled with pity and it pisses you off more than anything,

It’s not that you care that you got stood up because you understand that her work is demanding. It’s more that you’re worried for her because she’s been inactive and short in her recent messages. You hadn’t received a good morning or good night text in days. It makes you wonder if she’s finally gotten sick of you. You’d like to believe that she would at least grace you with a text informing you of this decision but you’re not the best at predicting her.

Emily is a very closed off person and you respect that, you do. It’s just sometimes you wish she didn’t compartmentalize every part of her life into tiny, separate boxes. She likes to pretend that you and Spencer aren’t friends, even though it’s how you were originally met. She tells you that no one needs to know and at the beginning, you were okay with this but lying to Spencer is something you wish you didn’t have to do.

You have to pretend not to know every little bit of Emily she shares with you that she also shares with her team and try not to focus on every little detail he shares about her that you don’t already know. You feel a bit guilty but you figure that she wouldn’t really mind. The only thing that would make her annoyed, never mad because she says anger is useless, is if you mixed her personal life with her work life. You understand to a degree but you also wish that you didn’t have to hide.

Clearly, you were too far gone for her. You always had to take a step back and remember that you weren’t in a relationship with her. If only she didn’t make it so easy to love her. When this ended, you were going to end up heartbroken and that was okay with you. You had accepted that a long time ago but now that you’re actually faced with the inevitable, it scares you.

Emily Prentiss was not the first woman you were with but she’ll be the one to always haunt you. She’s shaped you into the person you are today without even knowing it. You’ll never regret your decision to be with her but you’ll always be left with the “what ifs”.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the man who sits across from you and it’s only until he coughs that he brings you back to reality.

He’s handsome in a rugged sort of way. If you weren’t so enamored with Emily, he surely would have fired something in you but as it is, she is the only one able to cause a spark in you.

“Hi, I saw you here and couldn’t help but notice how you’re alone. Such a shame since you seem like such a catch.” His voice fits him well and he has a nice smile despite its crookedness.

“Ah, my date couldn’t make it. I guess he got busy with work or something. It happens to the best of us.” His eyes narrow the slightest bit at use of “he” and you wonder why. He’s the one hitting on you, after all. It’s gone as soon as it comes and he’s back to those kind eyes.

“Oh, he’s one of those. Well, I know when I’m unwanted when I hear it. Have a lovely night…” He shoots you one last smile and gets up and leaves the restaurant. The waiter shows up and you pay immediately and get into your car as soon as you can.

It’s only when you arrive at home do you see it. You have one new message from Emily and it brings a smile to your face until you see the contents.

Emily <3

I think it’s time we called it quits.

Don’t contact me anymore.

Goodbye.

At first, you feel nothing. You reread it and reread it until it’s practically ingrained into your vision. You knew it was coming but seeing it actually made it real and before you know it, you’re crying.

You feel like a fool because you’ve known that this was just a casual thing for her. It doesn’t make it any easier to accept. Perhaps what hurts the most is her demand to not contact her anymore. You would have been fine, loving her at a distance but remaining friends. Emily cutting you off completely had never been a possibility in your mind. It almost makes you want to laugh though because although you’d never thought of it, it’s such an Emily thing to do. You just never thought it’d be something to happen to you.

A fool, you might be, but better to have loved than to have not. It’s like you had thought earlier, Emily would never leave you, even if she had in person. There would always be reminders of her in your life; in the interior design of your home, in the music you listened to, in the movies and books you had shared together, and in the hidden, ignored corners of your heart.

It hurt. God, did her short messages pain you but you’d seen it coming. You had time to accept it but that did nothing to quell the tears that fell down your face or the sobs that wracked your body.

You cry yourself to sleep, still in the dress she bought you, the one she said you looked your best in and always brought out her coyness to the fullest.

When you wake up, you’re thankful it’s a Saturday because you can’t imagine facing anyone today. The most you want to do is get drunk on every bottle of wine you own, which is quite a few. You hope it’ll be enough to keep your mind off of Emily.

You go to the bathroom and you can’t help but wince at the image you make. Your makeup has run all over your face and you look like la llorona with the mascara and eyeliner running down your cheeks. Your lipstick is smeared beyond comprehension and overall, you look like a mess, not even a hot one at that.

You look like the stereotypical girl who has just gotten heartbroken and so you scrub it all off until your skin is clear of the previous night’s emotions. You change into something comfortable, throwing the dress into the hamper rather than the trash because you can’t bear the thought of throwing away things from her. Maybe it’d be the smart thing to do but you can’t.

You’re in a sort of limbo and you’re unsure of where to go from here. You’ve accidentally built up your life around her and now that she’s gone, you’re left with nothing but yourself.

It’s only a week later that Spencer shows up to your place, looking worse for wear. He looks like you did on that day when Emily broke up with you but worse. His eyes are bloodshot and his nose is bright red against his pale complexion.

“Um, could I come in?” His voice cracks and he only shrinks further into himself and you nod at him, opening the door to accompany his skinny frame.

You guide him to your couch and place the cup of tea you had made for yourself into his hands since it seemed like they needed something in them with all the twitching they were doing.

You sit in silence, knowing that whatever he had to say would eventually come out.

His tea has stopped steaming when he finally speaks up. “Today, my colleague was taken by the person she had been chasing after. We found her and apprehended the person she had been chasing but… But we were too late. By the time we had gotten there, she was already wounded and she was pronounced dead two hours, thirteen minutes, and twenty seven seconds ago. She’s dead and I never got to say goodbye.” With his proclamation, his tears begin again and you take the cup from his hands.

“May I hug you, Spencer?” He nods and that’s all it takes for you to take him into your arms. He sobs into the crook of your neck. It’s hard to connect the image of the nerd you know and care for to the man who’s breaking down in your arms. You rub soothing circles on his back and try to keep up with his words but they’re too quiet and unintelligible to your ears.

The both of you sit there like that for a while. It could have been five minutes or an hour but you can’t tell and you bet he can’t either.

When he finally runs out of tears, he whispers something so quietly that you think you’ve misheard him.

“I never got to say goodbye to Emily.”

Emily . She’s his colleague. He had said she in his retelling of the events. It takes your breath away and you have to stop the tears from coming on because you’re not supposed to care for her, not like this. Not in front of anybody, especially not Spencer.

She’s dead. Emily is dead. It’s a truth you don’t want to accept. It makes you glad that Spencer is still hidden in your neck because you’re sure your face can only show the agony you feel over such a reveal.

Your worst nightmare has come true, it seems. You don’t want this. Anything but her leaving you permanently. She can’t be dead, not the woman who’s changed you so irrevocably and made you feel like life was worth living.

You could accept loving her in quiet, away from her, but not at the cost of her death. You can’t deal with this, not when Spencer needs you so push it away. You shove the pain and agony down until you’re numb.

You’re supposed to be nothing but an acquaintance to her. She hadn’t even loved you. You shouldn’t feel like your heart has been ripped violently from your body and that your soul will always have an Emily sized hole left in the wake of her death.

You focus on Spencer so that you don’t break down and you’re grateful that he doesn’t notice your little episode. You can’t confront this in front of anybody. It’s better to deal with your grief in private, just like everything else you did with Emily. It made sense for the last thing you’ll ever do for her to stay quiet and watch from afar.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #emily prentiss fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #my writing #holding on

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

Open Me Carefully

summary: spencer reid and reader are best friends, but don’t realize that they both love each other.

author’s note: crappy summary, but this one is loosely based on gold rush

warnings: none

Open Me Carefully

Maybe it’s the fact that I have a propensity to keep rereading historical romances, or maybe it’s the fact that I just listen to “Lover” way too much for a single person. Or maybe, I’m actually in love with him, my best friend and the only person in this world who I think truly knows me.

I mean, how could I not be completely in love with him. Spencer Reid is the closest thing to perfection. He is kind, brilliant, and unbelievably handsome. It almost hurts me how wonderful he is. But daydreaming about Spencer’s hair falling in his eyes, or his hands grazing across the map spread out on the table, or even his wide smile that slips out when he lets his guard down is not productive to solving crimes.

Unsubs, Y/N. Unsubs. Stop thinking about his hands. And start focusing.

“Y/N/L!” Calls Hotch from across the room. He’s assigned me to locate the birth mother of the potential unsub. He was given up for adoption as an infant, but bounced around from foster home to foster home, never finding a home, and now obsessed with finding his roots.

“Yes, sir, here’s the name from Garcia. Susan Lee gave up her baby for adoption in 1981, she was a just 16 years old, so that would make her-”

“44 years old” Spencer injected.

Hotch gave me a short nod of approval and I cocked my head towards Spencer’s direction, who tried to pull off an innocent look.

“It’s math, Y/N. I can’t help myself,” he explains.

“It’s fine, Spence. Math is like your religion,” I tell him, but what I’m really thinking is it’s you, Spence, and you can get away with anything with me.

“Math, in its purest form, is a beauty known nowhere else” he remarks.

“Who’s that Nietzsche?” I ask him as he beams down at me, twirling a blue permanent mark between his very distracting fingers.

“No, Spencer Reid.” he says as he turns back to the map on the table before us.

Just as I give myself the smallest bit of a second to enjoy the playful banter that falls between us, JJ and Emily come walking in, leading a gruff looking detective with them.

“We think we know where Jacob is hiding out,” JJ starts with a grim look on her face. Emily and the detective walk past her to where Hotch and Derek explain the profile to the SWAT team waiting by.

“His old orphanage, right?” Spencer asks looking up from the map.

“Yeah, and we think he’s going to hold some of the other children hostage,” JJ tells us.

“We need to get there, JJ. But isn't it his mother he wants, not the other children. You’d think that with the profile we came up with, it would make more sense for him to want to save the children, not hold them hostage?” I reason.

“You’re right, Y/N,” Spencer says, coming to a dark realization “he thinks that he’s saving them. He’s Angel of Death” he finishes grimly.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting quietly in the jet after the chaos of de-escalating a hostage situation is a calm like no other. We all have routines for the ride home. A quiet ritual that we take the time to be thankful that we’re all here, in one piece, having made the world slightly more safe.

JJ, ever diligent, will work on paper with Hotch. Rossi will usually keep Hotch from overworking with a small, light conversation.

Emily spreads out on the couch, and the rest of us pretend to not see JJ glance over at her as she looks at Emily with eyes that crave her attention.

Derek will listen to music and I’ll close my eyes and strain my ears to make out the muffled tunes that escape his ears. I sit across from Derek and will share snacks that we grabbed from a dingy convenience store on the way to the tarmac.

Spencer, who always sits next to me, will usually write his mother a letter. He writes her a letter on every plane ride after a case. I think back to the time that I asked him why he prefers letters to phone calls. He told me that he finds letters a forever way to say ‘I love you’. Taking your love and turning it into pen and paper makes it tangible, is what he told me. Until that day, I never really pegged Spencer to be a poet, but he continues to amaze me everyday.

I think that he can feel me staring at him, because he suddenly stops writing and his eyes look up to meet mine.

“She’s not doing so well, Y/N” Spencer says, his voice but a whisper above the hum of the jet and music spilling from Morgan’s headset.

“Your mom?” I ask, my voice matching his.

Spencer, for perhaps the first time I’ve known him, is quietly defeated.

“All I ever wanted to do was to save her, Y/N. Sometimes I feel like I’m not doing everything I should be. I thought that by the time I was 30 I would have cured schizophrenia. It’s just that sometimes I feel like maybe I settled”

“Well, you know we really don’t hear about child genius when they are adults. And you have the same job and me, and I’m not where near as smart as you. So you feel like you’re letting the world down or even worse— yourself”

“You might not have the IQ points on a piece of paper, but you are nothing short of brilliant” Spencer says looking at me directly in my eyes. I hold his gaze for maybe a second and look down towards my lap in disbelief.

“Spence,” I say. “You have to say that, otherwise I’d stop making you chocolate donuts.”

“I don’t need your donuts to convince me that you are an amazing agent. I mean,” He pauses and holds my stare again.

“You’re so kind it hurts me sometimes. And watching you those kids today, you’d be a great mom, Y/N. You make everyone feel so comfortable just being around you, and I’d give up all the chocolate donuts and IQ points and bottomless coffee if it meant you’d stay in my life,” Spencer says looking at me. I rest my hand over his and we sit there in the silence and comfort of the other.

Spencer Reid is a man of many hats. But I think his way with words just may be my favorite. I don’t dare to respond to him. I don’t trust myself not to kiss his pink lips as he looks at me like he loves me. I don’t trust myself to not tell him all the wonderful and sinful things I think about him. I don’t trust myself to not tell him how I was watching him play with those orphans back at the police station.

“What’s a best friend for, Spence?” I say to him.

“Besides, ’d want nothing more than to be a mom one day,” I tell him. We never really talked about our futures. Maybe it was the nature of our jobs. Having a lethal job means that the future is more of an arbitrary idea than a definite possibility.

“But,” I start. “I'm twenty-seven years old, I've no money and no prospects. I'm already a burden to my parents and I'm frightened” I quote with a smirk on my face that covers my trepidation at talking about love and children and the future with Spencer.

“I’d never think that you’d be one to settle for a Mr. Collins, Y/N” Spencer tells me, a similar look on his face mirrors my own. “If anything, you’re a Lizzie and you deserve a Mr. Darcy”

“You really think that Spence, because I’m not too sure.”

“You never know, Y/N your Mr. Darcy can be anyone. Statistically speaking, you may have already met him or have mutual friends or he may even work in the Bureau.

Sometimes I think that luck and fate are mocking me. Dangling Spencer in front of me; so real yet so far that I’m jumping to remain close to him. Touching his hand to mine feels like I’m teasing myself, just getting a taste of how his warm, strong hands fit into mine is enough to set my heart on fire.

I let go of his hand and my palm is cold and lonely without his touching. My heart cools but there’s a yearning for him that’s so strong it’s like a magnetic field pulling me in.

“I’m going to get a cup of coffee, would you like some?” He asks me as he scoots out of the seat.

“I’ll take a green tea, coffee this late makes me anxious” And sitting here holding your hand talking about children and my Mr Darcy makes me even more anxious.

“Coming right up,” he says with a sad smile on his face that I try to convince myself is because of his mother’s illness and not because I dropped his hand.

Spencer returns to his spot beside me, sipping his coffee and making small notes in his letter. There’s a chill between us that can’t be quelled by even the hottest cup of tea. Spencer doesn’t talk to me again and even though it’s just a couple more hours, I miss his voice.

I have a routine for when I come home after cases, but that routine has been thrown out the window when I watched Spencer walk out of the bullpen without as much as a wave goodbye. We usually go to my apartment and make dinner together. My trip home is a lot more lonely without Spencer by my side. I try to stop my thoughts from going to him, but it’s impossible when he’s all I can think about.

My apartment is dark and quiet when I walk in. It was left in shambles, with clothes and books strewn all over the couch, desk and floor. I can’t even bother myself to care about the dirty dishes stacked in the sink. I convince myself that those dishes are a tomorrow problem.

I take out a small container of leftover fried rice and vegetables and pop into the microwave. Making my way into my bedroom I change out of my work clothes, that I’ve been in for nearly 30 hours. I don’t really think about what I’m putting on, as long as it does not smell it works with me at this point.

My microwave dings, altering me that my mediocre meal is finished. But, before I can even reach the kitchen a small envelope slips through my door and falls on the floor. A sudden rush of fear courses through me. I flit my eyes to the corner safe where my gun rests. In my mind, I try to calculate the risk of punching the code or if I should just find out who is behind my door. I guess curiosity wins out, because I’m walking towards the door where the mysterious envelope sits.

I reach down and instantly recognize the handwriting as Spencer’s. I can feel my heart pumping blood through my bodying as I think that some sadistic unsub is trying to toy with me by hurting Spencer.

I was not prepared for what I read. My fingers grazed over the messy penmanship. I don’t even let my mind wander as I pour over the words on the page, still fearing for the worse

Dear Y/N,

Part of me can’t believe that I’m actually doing this. But something that you mentioned on the plane sparked something in me. You’re not a Charlotte, or a Lizzie or even a Jane, even though you are the kindest and most beautiful person I know.

You are a Y/N. And I am wishing for anything to be your Mr. Darcy. Thinking about you, Y/N gets me thinking about love. How much I love when you look at me across from the table, or how your soft hands will brush against mine. It reminds me that I’m alive. Your gaze makes me blush and those small brushes make me forget to breathe. In your eyes I can see my future— our future. In your smile I can taste happiness. When I am with you the world moves in slow motion and time seems to move too fast.

I hope that this does not ruin things, Y/N. I could not bear to lose you. I hope that you won’t hate me but even if you do, I’d rather you hate me and be in your life than not be in your life.

I think of love, and you, and my heart grows full and warm, and my breath stands still

Forever yours,

Spencer

I read the letter silently. Not sure if I can believe it, but I so desperately want to. I throw all sense to the wind when I fling the door open, my eyes hunting for Spencer. He sits on the steps leading up to the next level, fiddling with his shoe laces. I run over to where he sits, not caring that my neighbors might be looking or caring that I look like I’m about to mug him.

He makes me, cautious girl, a rebel.

“Hey, you,” I say approaching him. Spencer moves to stand up and I reach out to hold his hands in mine. Like a puzzle piece they hit perfectly. His hands are not too warm or clammy or too cold and boney. They’re perfect. He hesitates and rubs his thumb against the back of my palm, like he does on the plane.

“Hi, Y/N.” He starts nervously. “I guess you got the letter, and I just want to tell you-”

“What letter, Spence?” I say. I can’t help but to tease him. His face turns pale and green in the same breath.

“Uh-um, you didn’t just get something in your mail a couple minutes ago?” He asks me so nervously that I almost feel bad at teasing him. Almost, he’s kind of cute when he’s stumbling over his words and I like to be one that makes him this fluttery.

“I got your letter, Spencer,” I tell him. I think he half expects me to drop his hand and shatter his heart then and there. Maybe he came here and prepared himself for the worse. I think he’s done that his whole life, believing that he doesn’t deserve a chance at happiness. I’m kind of inclined to give him that happiness when it’s so intricately tied to mine.

“You did?”

“Yeah, who knew that you were quite the poet, Spencer.” I tell him as I brush his hair from his eyes. It’s gotten so long, but I like it. I’ve dreamt about threading my fingers threw it many times. It’s so soft and brown and frames his face.

“You deserve a poet, Y/N. And I could only dream of being that person for you.” He says. Against even his own wishes he leans in closer to my touch. His cheek is warm in my palm and I feel his long eyelashes flutter against the ball of my thumb.

“Luckily for you, Spence, I like scientists.” I say to him.

“You--”

“I love you back, Spencer.” I move to wipe the tears that flood down the bridge of his nose.

“It was a really beautiful letter that you wrote, Spencer. All the right things in there, Emily Dickinson and Mr. Darcy,” I tell him pressing my cheek into his chest.

“Well, I had to win you over, Y/N”

“Ha!, Spencer you’ve had me since I’ve met you”

He looks at me with a veil of disbelief.

“Spencer Reid, in his purest form, is a beauty known nowhere else”

“Is that what you think of me?” He asks me.

“Why don’t you come inside and let me show you what I think of you Spencer?” I say leading him inside to my apartment, that was no longer so dark and lonely.

#spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid deserved a happy ending #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fanfic

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mggssocks · 3 years

Text

Followed

Not My Gif!

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Content Warnings: None just fluff :)

Summary: Spencer makes an Instagram and stumbles across reader’s page.

Word Count: 1,899 words

A/N: This is Season 10 Spencer with Season 13 looks. Also, instead of it being Kate on the team, i put Emily instead because who doesn’t love the season 3-7 team? Also I might make a part 2 depending on how much this blows up. Honestly i’d be happy if i got one like. Anyways.. hope you enjoy!!!

masterlist // part 2 // part 3

It was 8:00 in the morning. Spencer walked in the doors of the bullpen to the bau. He sat his satchel down and began to settle in for a long day of work. It was pretty early so the team wasn’t in yet. Except for Aaron Hotchner who had gotten in an hour prior to Spencer and been in his office ever since. Apparently others had the same ‘get to work early’ mindset as Spencer. Spencer opened a case file but his attention was quickly whipped away due to the sound of the door opening. He sees Penelope Garcia with all her attention focused on her phone. Spencer quirked his eyebrows when she bumped into a fellow coworker and her attention remained on her phone while quickly mumbling a quick “sorry”. As she passed his desk, Spencer decided it would be the great time to speak.

“Hey, Garcia.” Her feet came to a stop and her head snapped up at him.

“Boy wonder! I’m so glad you’re here. I really need someone to talk to because if I don’t I’m going to explode!” She sits in the chair across from his desk.

“Is everything alright?” He leaned back in his chair.

“No… no everything is not alright. If anything.. everything is all wrong. Very very wrong. I-“ she takes in a deep breath “I was stalking Kevin’s page because the other day I seen him at the mall with another girl. And while I was 56 weeks down in his page, I accidentally liked a picture.” She explained, in a huff.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Spencer was even more confused now than before she started.

“I liked a picture that he posted 56 weeks ago!” Her eyes were wide.

“How is that a bad thing?” His lips pouted as he’d never understand social media.

“Ugh! Reid, you really need to get with the program and get you an Instagram. That means his picture was old and now he knows that I was looking at his page. You understand now?” She asked.

“Oh. Yeah I understand. It’s bad that he knows you were looking at his page.” He asked as Prentiss, JJ, and Morgan had walked in.

“Yes. And now I must go into the bat cave and wait for him to call or text me and ask what me lurking on his page was about.” She whined as she stomped her way to her office.

“What was that about?” Prentiss asked, setting her bags down on her desk.

“Uhh- rough morning” Spencer shrugged, still not really understanding the whole social media thing.

“Hey do you guys have an Instagram?” He asked the three.

“Yeah but I’m barely on it.” Prentiss answered.

“Same here” says Morgan as he takes a seat at his desk.

“Yeah but I only get on to post the boys and myself sometimes” answers JJ.

“What about Hotch and Rossi?” He asked.

“Yup! Rossi likes to post about his expensive wine and cigars. Hotch posts Jack every once in a while and a throwback Thursday.” JJ says.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed for what seems to be the 100th time that day.

“He doesn’t know what that is” Prentiss looks over to JJ.

“It’s something you post like an old picture of yourself every Thursday.” Morgan explains.

“Do you guys do that?” Spencer asked.

“I did last Thursday.” JJ pulls out her phone and opened the app. “This was right after Emily, Penelope, and I caught a guy who was trying to pick up Prentiss by pretending to be an FBI agent a few years ago.” She chuckled showing him a picture.

Spencer takes her phone in his hand and examines the post. 142 likes. 57 comments. He clicks on her name which takes it to her page. 302 followers. As he scrolls, he sees a picture the team took a while ago and sees a little person profile thing the corner and clicks on it causing other names tagged to each individual team member. Except him. After he examined all of their profiles, he gives JJ back her phone and gets to work like the rest of them. He felt a little left out but he knew it was because of his own decisions and not his team. He liked that they didn’t press him about having a social media because they new he was more old school than anything. And it was ironic because he wastage youngest member of the team with the more old school habits.

When Spencer got home he decided he wanted the social media app. The idea of being able to share with his friends and only his friends excited him. Being able to post about his favorite things for his friends to see without talking their ears off.

He opened his phone and went to the app store, typing “instagram” into the search bar. He followed the sites instructions as he made his account. Using a snapshot he took of his bookshelf as his profile picture. He sees the option to add the people in his contact list which was only his team, mom, and his mother’s caretaker. But everyone’s profile popped up and he quickly followed each and every one of them. Except for his mom and her caretaker of course.

Soon enough, he got a follow back from Garcia, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ in that order. Morgan and Prentiss weren’t lying when they said they weren’t on often.

After two weeks, Spencer hasn’t posted anything yet, not knowing what should go on his profile. Morgan and Prentiss ended up following him back and the app ended up adjusting to his interests. Nothing but accounts about interesting facts, books, and doctor who.

It was Friday night and the team had just got back from a case in Chicago. Spencer opened the door to his apartment and set his satchel down on the couch, exhausted. His mind wonders to get something to eat being that he wonders to get something to eat being that he hasn’t ate since before they caught the unsub. Which was about 5 hours and 7 minutes ago but he still needed to get something into his system. Spencer opened his fridge and sees 3 day old Chinese takeout. He shrugs and pops it into the microwave while looking for a book of his to reread while he eats. After he finishes dinner, he gets on his phone and subconsciously pulls up the app. He clicks onto his explore page to discover something else he likes. While scrolling, he sees a picture of someone reading and clicks on it.

765 likes

Yourfriend’sig whenever people ask me what to give you for your birthday or Christmas, I always tell them to get you a book or something green and it works every single time. Happy Birthday to my best buddy, @yourinstagram !

View all 84 comments

Spencer smiles and clicks the heart button and bookmarks it to look at later. He liked the picture. Both the picture and caption reminded him a lot of his own love for books and the color green (hence his apartment).

Once he got out of the shower, he brushed his teeth. He found himself subconsciously scrolling through his instagram bookmarks to find her post. He doesn’t know what it was but something about the picture brought comfort to him. As he brushed his teeth, he clicked on the post once again.This time, he actually clicked on your account. It was a private account with 186 followers. The bio read:

Y/N... bookworm.

Her profile picture consisted of a black cat surrounded by either a bunch of well taken care of plants or artificial ones. His finger hovered over the blue “follow” button. As he bent down to spit his toothpaste out, his thumb accidentally clicked the follow button. But he didn't realize so until he looked down again to see the “follow” button replaced with “requested”. His heart basically drops out of his ass. He quickly clicks the button again, taking back his follow.

It was now one in the morning, Spencer laid in bed awake staring at his ceiling. Once again, he clicks onto the app. He scrolled down his timeline and saw a picture Penelope posted of one of her new desk animals with the caption “Got her at a thrift shop! Isn’t she cute??”. He saw that Hotch and JJ liked 45 other people. JJ also commented with two red hearts. Spencer likes the post and keeps scrolling. His thoughts wander to the post about the girl again. He’s never thought about a social media post this much since he’s created an account. He wonders what sparked his interest so much about this one. As he makes his way to the post, clicking on her account. Debating if he should follow her. She’s a total stranger. Do the others follow strangers? There’s no way JJ knows 302 people in real life. He mentally shrugs and presses the follow button. Requested. Again.

He swipes out of her account back onto the post now seeing that she commented on it.

yourinstagram thank you, bubs! ily to the moon n back <3333

It was commented thirty six seconds ago. Meaning she’s currently active. Again, Spencer’s heart sinks and he immediately regrets his decision. Going back and unfollowing her. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s a mess. Over a stranger. But he feels like an idiot. Reacting the way that he did just because he saw that she was online. So he goes and follows her.... again.

After clearing out all of his apps, he turns off his phone and lays down trying to get some sleep before work in a few hours. His thoughts wander to her. What she was like. if she was nice or mean. If she was socially awkward or very outgoing. Before his thoughts could get too far into what she was like, he receives a notification from instagram. He opens his phone and clicks on the notification. His heart began to pound when he saw it.

yourinstagram would like to send you a message!

He clicks on it.

yourinstagram You’ve followed and unfollowed me about 5 times in the past 3 hours. Is there something I can help you with?

Spencer completely forgot that other people got notifications and now he felt like some kind of creep.

spencerreid I’m sorry. I came across your friend’s Instagram post wishing you a happy birthday and i guess i got curious and wanted to follow you if that makes any sense.

He felt so dumb.

yourinstagram and following me once wasn’t enough for some reason???

spencerreid Sorry about that. I’m new to this whole social media thing and don’t follow any strangers. You are the first person I’m following that I don’t know in real life. Again, my apologies for the disturbance. I’ll unfollow you’re account If you’re uncomfortable with me.

yourinstagram i just hope that you’re not one of my raging exes, someone trying to catfish me, or a psychopath lol.

Spencer smiled.

spencerreid Nope. Just me.

She leaves him one read. Spencer’s smile fades when he doesn’t see any three loading dots. She wasn’t texting him back. As he’s about to exit the app, he sees two notifications.

yourinstagram has accepted your follow request!

yourinstagram has requested to follow you.

********

I hoped you like this!!! If this blows up,i will do another chapter!

#spencer reid #dr reid #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #matt simmons #david rossi #cm #emily prentiss #jennifer jereau #penelope gracia #luke alvez #tara lewis #elle greenaway #spencer reid x you #cat adams

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justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

Text

Follow My Lead | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann) | Chapter 5 | I bet you look so pretty when you beg.

A/N: This will update every Thursday. There are 13 chapters. There are all sorts of kinds of D/s relationships. This is the one I choose to write this time.

MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann)

Summary: Tom and Vivian have both been unlucky in love, searching for something outside of the bounds of a typical relationship. When the two of them connect via a dating app, Tom is introduced to the idea of being submissive to Vivian. Which is the one thing he never knew he needed. Under the firm hand of Vivian, Tom learns what it means to submit and Vivian learns what it means to be in a loving dominant relationship. But not everyone seems to understand what they have and the best intentions can destroy the strongest relationship.

This Chapter: Sophie and Vivian bond over shopping and Tom and Vivian finally have sex. But not before a little denial.

Warnings for story: Dominant/submissive relationship (sub!Tom), lots of smut including but not limited to: vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), edging, denial, teasing, use of restraints, spanking, multiple orgasm, anal play, use of toys.

Tag Lists Are Open! Let me know if you want to be added. Thank you for reading!

Vivian tossed on a pair of jeans and a blouse for lunch at Tom’s and then shopping with Sophie. She read and reread Tom’s essay that night. She may have even teared up a bit. Not that she would admit that to Tom just yet. Vivian eschewed heels that day, opting for a driving mocassin.

She texted Tom when she was already halfway to his house, knowing he was already pacing the length of his living room. His nervous energy reminded her of an overexcited puppy. So sweet and endearing. And that smile, that damn smile, melted Vivian’s heart in a way she never felt before.

“Come in.” Tom opened the door wide with a smile.

Tom wore a pair of beat up shorts, t-shirt and trainers. Vivian could see his abs through the thin fabric. She wanted nothing more than to rip off that shirt and lick them. But there was much to discuss. She grabbed the back of his head and kissed him, tongues exploring. They parted.

“God, I love kissing you, sunshine.” she commented, licking her lips.

“I love kissing you, too, ma’am.” Tom whispered back. He hoped for more, but Vivian stepped into the kitchen and sat down, gesturing for Tom to sit next to her. He sat, hands folded in front of him.

“So…” he started.

Vivian slid a folded piece of paper over towards Tom. He unfolded it. It was his essay. Vivian had underlined and circled portions of his writing.

“My essay?”

“Did you mean it?”

“Every word, ma’am.” Tom responded. He stared at her.

“You realize what you are wanting? You realize what it would mean?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom exhaled. “I have thought about it long before I even met you. To be honest, I think I have subconsciously been seeking this out in my relationships. Seeking out strong and independent women. And it ended in disaster. I think they assumed I would take control, ‘be the man’, make the decisions. I make decisions all day at my job. I play the role of the one in control. But what I want, what I need is surrender. To be strong by giving my control away. To trust someone with my heart and my life.”

“On a daily basis? To give total control to me? It’s okay if you don’t, we can play, keep things casual. It’s not unusual for submissive men to think they want this and then get intimidated or scared.”

“I won’t know if I don’t try. But what I can say is that I have never felt as happy and comfortable than I am with you.” Tom smirked. “Tied up to your bed in my underwear. Give me the chance.”

Vivian chewed on her lip. Tom never looked more like a puppy than he did in that moment. His short golden hair rumpled as though he had run his hands through it waiting for her. His blue eyes wide, hopeful, and on the precipice of spilling tears.

“You know you won’t always get what you want?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That I will say no to you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you need to do as I say?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

Vivian smiled and pulled Tom over to her lap, smoothing his hair. He nuzzled into her neck, inhaling the scent of woodsy perfume. “Then we will do this, sunshine. If at any point you want to stop, tell me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” he muttered into her neck, his breath hot on the skin.

She lifted his head and kissed him tenderly. “Good boy.” She cupped his face. “My beautiful good boy.”

Tom glowed.

They stood and Vivian pulled out an envelope and handed it to Tom. It contained a list of various kinks and sexual acts with boxes for Tom to mark “yes”, “soft no” and “hard no.” “Fill this out and give it back to me today after I return from shopping.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“We will continue with the 9 p.m. phone call. I am busy this week so I won’t be able to meet until the weekend.”

Tom nodded, disappointed but understanding. He had a few meetings himself. “Yes, ma’am.” He fidgeted in his seat.

“The next time we get together, we will have sex.” She reached out to stroke Tom’s arm. He shivered. “Until then, no more masturbating.”

“Yes… what?” Tom’s brow furrowed.

She smirked. “No jerking off, no orgasms, no touching yourself, sunshine.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He shuffled his feet. That was going to be a difficult task to accomplish.

“And you are to take a photo of your cock, either in your underwear or pajamas in the morning, and send it to me.”

Tom’s mouth dropped open. His cheeks reddened. He stared at the floor. “Yes… yes ma’am.” he stuttered.

Vivian pulled him into a sweet kiss, her hand petting the back of his hand. “Don’t be embarrassed, sunshine. These photos will never see the light of day and I will delete them after I view them.”

He exhaled sharply. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Now let’s eat.”

Tom rushed to the kitchen and grabbed the salad and sandwiches he made earlier from the fridge. He set them down on the table and then returned with a glass of water for both of them. Tom sat and waited for Vivian to eat before taking a bite.

“Did you make the sandwich?” She asked.

Tom finished chewing before answering. “Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s delicious. Perfect lunch for a warm day. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Can I ask a question?”

“Of course.” Vivian smiled.

Tom chewed on his lip. “Do you think I am ‘less of a man’ for wanting this?”

“Quite the contrary, sunshine. I find it strong, not to mention sexy that you are willing to give power to me. Your masculinity is not contingent on being in charge, on being the boss of the relationship. It is about mutual trust and respect.” Tom nodded but said nothing. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You have been in several high profile relationships or rumoured relationships. And you have commented more than once that they ended in disaster. What happened?”

“That’s not just a question, but the question. I guess what happened was the same thing that happened in all failed relationships. We wanted different things.”

“What did they want?”

“They wanted the guy on the screen. The Jonathan Pine, the Loki. The man who shoves you against a wall and fucks you senseless. The man who pushes her to her knees and has her suck my cock. The one who calls the shots. The alpha male. It’s exhausting. Eventually there would be friction and then argument. I could never articulate properly what I wanted. And then they left. Sometimes loudly, sometimes with an apology. But they left.” Tom sniffled.

She caressed his cheek. “They didn’t deserve you, sunshine.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” He sniffed again and then cleared the plate. He checked the time. “I am due at Benedict’s.”

“Drive me, please. I am meeting Sophie there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tom gathered his keys, wallet and phone and led Vivian to his car. He opened her door before getting in himself. She scratched the nape of his neck. “Have I told you what a perfect gentleman you are?”

“No, ma’am.”

“You are. So polite and kind and generous. I can’t wait to make you beg for me to let you come.”

Tom jerked the car forward. “Yes, ma’am.”

She twirled his hair between her fingers, she noticed Tom’s shorts tenting. Vivian waited for the stoplight before continuing. “I bet you look so pretty when you beg. My pretty little sunshine.”

Beads of sweat popped out on Tom’s temples. “Yes. ma’am.” He didn’t know how else to respond. All the blood was rushing somewhere other than his brain.

“I guess we will see.” she mused before squeezing the back of his neck and then fiddling with the radio.

It took the rest of the drive for Tom to get his body back under control. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he rounded around the car to open Vivian’s door. Vivian knocked on the door, her hand on the small of Tom’s back. Sophie answered.

“You two came together!” She pulled Vivian into a hug. “And you are at a reasonable height!”

Vivian laughed. “I wore my shopping shoes.” She wiggled her feet.

“Smart woman.” Benedict poked his head around Sophie. She turned and kissed his cheek and rubbed his shoulder. “And the two of you are actually going to tear down that shed and not sit around and drink beer?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Benedict teased. She rubbed his shoulder. Tom stiffened at Ben’s words, but Vivian rubbed his neck and he relaxed.

“Have a good time, darling.” She kissed Tom’s cheek. “Sophie, shall we?”

The two women linked arms and stepped out. Tom’s eyes lingered on Vivian as she and Sophie laughed.

“Should I be worried, mate?” He asked Benedict, who handed him a hammer.

“Two strong independent women, one of whom knows several secrets about both of us? Yes, you should.”

Tom paled.

“You should buy it.” Vivian urged Sophie, who was holding up a gorgeous dress.

“But where would I wear it?”

“Red carpet. A gala. Around the house. Who cares?”

“Around the house?”

Vivian smirked. “Are you saying that your husband wouldn’t want to see you in that dress?”

Sophie eyed the short hemline and low neckline. “Good point, but…”

“If you don’t buy it, I will.” Vivian grabbed for the dress, but Sophie snatched it back.

“Find your own dress!” she giggled.

“Not a problem.” Vivian held up her other arm, ladened with clothes.

Vivian laughed more in the few hours with Sophie than she had in a long time. She had few female friends outside of Ashley, who was busy in starting up her own small boutique firm. Sophie was a delight, sharing stories about Tom and Benedict.

“Did he really streak into the pool?” Vivian asked.

Sophie nodded her head. “Both of them. Although I am certain copious amounts of alcohol bolstered their boldness. You have a bit of an exhibitionist on your hands.”

Vivian blushed. “I can’t say I blame him. Which reminds me…”

She wandered over to the men’s section of the store. Vivian selected a couple of t-shirts for Tom, in shades of blue and maroon. The cotton brushed and soft against her skin and the vee of the neckline cut deep. She also picked up a few pairs of black boxer briefs with bright contrasting elastic bands on the inside. They weren’t Calvin Klein, but Vivian was certain Tom would be delicious in them.

“Already buying Tom’s clothes? The two of you are progressing quickly.”

Vivian smiled, not wanting to betray Tom’s privacy, not even to Sophie. “He mentioned needing some new things. I thought I would help him out.” She shrugged. Not a complete lie. After all, she had made Tom throw out some portion of his underwear.

“Those are cute. I’m grabbing a pair for Ben.” Sophie snagged the underwear.

After they gave the boys enough time to tear down the shed, accounting for the time they would take talking and standing about. They found the two of them sitting on the couch, looking quite pleased with themselves, drinking a beer.

Vivian settled onto Tom’s lap while Sophie sat on the arm next to Ben. She wiggled her ass against Tom’s crotch and he shifted underneath her, pulling her tight against him, nuzzling into her neck. She grabbed the beer from his hand.

“No alcohol for you.” She took a sip. “You are driving.”

“Yes, darling.”

Sophie sighed and smacked Ben’s arm. “Why can’t you be romantic like that?”

“Because I’m married.” Benedict joked.

Sophie threw daggers with her eyes. Benedict grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down. “Ah!!” she screamed as Tom and Vivian giggled.

“How is this for romantic?” Benedict kissed her dramatically.

Sophie righted herself. “Sorry you two had to see that.” She playfully elbowed Benedict. “Sometimes he needs to know who’s the boss.”

“No apologies.” Vivian continued to rub Tom’s neck. “Sometimes you just need to establish your dominance.”

“You’re not going to back me up, mate?” Ben yelled, looking to Tom for support

“It’s okay, sunshine.” Vivian whispered so only Tom could hear, before kissing behind his ear.

“Of course, Ben.” Tom straightened up. “I think… all relationships should be based on mutual respect and trust.” His face breaking out into a smug grin.

“Good answer.” Vivian praised, smoothing down his hair.

“I agree.” Sophie piped in.

“Boo.” Benedict pouted with a smile.

“Would you two like to stay for dinner?” Sophie offered.

Tom looked to Vivian to answer. “I have a big week at work, unfortunately, so I must be headed home.” she stated. “Another time, though?”

Sophie and Ben nodded. Vivian stood and Tom tugged at his shorts to hide any potential arousal. “I’ll drive you home, darling.”

“Thank you.”

Vivian gathered up her bags, and they said goodbyes, Sophie promising to text Vivian later in the week. Tom drove away.

“That went well.” Vivian hummed. Tom didn’t say anything. “You did so well.”

The praise softened his mood. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure how to…”

“You did beautifully, my sunshine.” She ruffled his hair. “I will never embarrass you in front of others. Unless you ask me to.” Vivian wiggled her eyebrows.

“Thank you.” He smiled at her.

Tom walked Vivian all the way to her front door. She pulled him in for a kiss, dropping her bags on the floor to grab his ass, pinching lightly. Tom jumped.

“You do have a beautiful ass.” she purred, pulling away and grabbing one of the bags. “Here. For you.” She placed it into Tom’s hands.

“You bought me something?” His eyes wide with surprise. He pulled out some shirts and underwear. “You bought me underwear?!”

She ran her hand up his thigh before swatting his ass. “I expect to see those in my photo tomorrow morning, sunshine.” She kissed his cheek. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Tom woke up in the morning on Monday, painfully hard. He touched the tip of his cock through his underwear, wishing he could jerk off. Tom grabbed his phone and snapped a photo so he could hop into a cold shower. Once he stepped out of the shower, he found Vivian’s text.

Oh my, sunshine. That looks painful. I can’t wait to feel you inside me.

Tom groaned and dug his nails into his thigh. It was going to be a long week.

Vivian enjoyed herself a bit too much that week, teasing Tom. But Thursday, Tom’s cock was leaking cum, soaking through his underwear. Vivian would text Tom each time praising him for sending the photo and then letting him know how much she was looking forward to fucking him. And indeed she was. So much so that she moved it up from Saturday to Friday.

She texted him early that morning even before he woke and sent his daily picture.

6 p.m. my place. Wear one of your new shirts and boxer briefs. Bring condoms and a change of clothes. You’re spending the night.

Tom snapped his photo and sent it before seeing Vivian’s text. He fisted the sheets as he read. He rolled onto his stomach, biting his pillow. The pressure of the mattress was comforting on his erection. He rolled his hips and felt some relief. He repeated the action three more times before stopping, not trusting himself to not cum.

The day was blurry and fuzzy on the edges for Tom. He could not concentrate on much more than the TV running in the background. While Vivian plowed through her to-do list at work, reaching a settlement for one of the firm’s biggest clients. She gave herself the rest of the afternoon off. Vivian hurried home to prepare.

She chilled a bottle of white wine in the fridge and pulled two glasses onto the counter. She grabbed a few bottles of water and some chocolate bars and granola bars to place on the nightstand before pulling out just the wrist cuffs. The bed linens were crisp white, and the straps prepared. She slipped into a simple black bra and panties before slipping on a dress, no shoes. Fifteen minutes before six and five minutes before Vivian expected Tom, she poured two glasses of wine, sipping from one. As predicted, five minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

“Sunshine.” she sighed as she opened the door.

Tom’s pupils were already large, and he fidgeted. He carried a small leather bag containing his clothes.

She pulled him into a deep kiss. Tom moaned against her mouth as she tugged on his hair.

“Put your bag in the bedroom. Condoms on the nightstand, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He hustled off to the bedroom while she grabbed the wrist cuffs with one finger.

Tom returned and his eyes went straight to the cuffs. He held out his wrists without having to be asked. “Good boy, sunshine.” She buckled them on. “Are they too tight?”

Tom twisted his wrists to test them out. “No, ma’am.”

She kissed his lips lightly and pressed her body against his, his cock already hard. “Some ground rules. No cumming until I say so. No touching my breasts or cunt until I tell you. If you need to stop, use your safe word.”

Tom nodded, licking his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

She pulled him into the bedroom. “Strip.” Tom frantically pulled off his shirt and pants, folding them neatly. Vivian gestured to a chair, and he placed them there. “Underwear too, sunshine.”

Tom pulled them off and placed them on the chair with the rest of his clothes.

“Hands behind your head. Stand tall, my beautiful sunshine boy.” Tom complied, pulling himself to his full height, chest puffed out.

His cock bobbed as he rocked on his heels. Vivian stood behind him and ran her hands from his shoulders down his back to cup his ass and gave one cheek a playful slap. As she walked her way around him, she grabbed the back of his head and jerked him into a kiss. Tom’s hands waved in the air, not knowing what to do.

“Touch my breasts.”

Tom squeezed, moaning into Vivian’s mouth. “Yes, ma’am.”

She bit down on his lower lip before kissing his neck, sucking hard, leaving a mark.

“Kneel, my sunshine.” Tom lowered to the floor. His head pressed against her legs. She petted the top of his head. “Take off my panties, please.”

Tom’s hands slipped under her dress, finding the waist, and pulled them down Vivian’s legs. She stepped out of them and walked to the end of the bed, sitting down, legs splayed wide. She hooked her finger towards Tom.

“Come here.” He started to stand. “On your knees.”

Tom groaned and walked over on his knees, settling between her legs. His hands hung at his side. Vivian balanced her heels on the frame. “I like how you look between my legs. Use your mouth. Taste me. Make me come.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His excitement was palpable. He reached for her legs. She stopped him with her foot on his forehead.

“No hands.” She pushed her legs wider. Tom hummed as devoured Vivian’s thighs, leaving sloppy open mouth kisses as he traveled up. His nose nudged along her folds. She moaned.

“That’s it, sunshine.” He moved his lips down to her other thigh. Vivian whimpered. “Tease.”

“It will be worth it, ma’am.”

“It better be.”

Tom peeked up and smiled. He licked with the flat of his tongue before swirling it around her clit. Vivian grabbed the back of his head and yanked him forward. “Yes!” she hissed.

Tom continued to suck and lick at her, his cock dripping and hard against his thigh. Vivian’s hand tight like a vise in his hair, yanking his head where she wanted. Tom’s tongue darted inside her entrance, collecting every drop of her arousal, savoring it. When Vivian came, she screamed out, her head falling back, and she pulled hard on Tom’s hair. A shot of pain ran through his scalp. He moaned into her, continuing to lick and slurp. As she came down, Vivian pulled Tom away. His eyes glassy, pupils lust blown. His lips swollen and red, her arousal glistening on him.

“It was worth it, sunshine.”

“yes, ma’am.” Tom remained on his knees, his voice low.

“On the bed on your back, arms out.” She stood and allowed him to crawl into the bed, unable to resist smacking his ass.

“Ow.” he complained as he lied down. Vivian quickly hooked him into the restraints.

“Nice and tight, sunshine? I don’t want you running away.” she play pouted. Tom made a show of flexing and tugging until Vivian ran her nail along his shaft and he let loose a ragged gasp, his hips bucking into her touch. Vivian clicked her tongue. “If you can’t be a good boy, I’ll restrain your legs.”

Tom lowered his legs. “I’ll be good, ma’am. I promise.” he pleaded. “Please, I’ll be good.”

Vivian grabbed the box of condoms and pulled one out. She unwrapped it and rolled it down Tom’s cock. He fought against the restraints at her touch. She climbed back on the bed and Tom’s posture relaxed. Vivian straddled his hips, his cock twitched underneath her. She rocked against the tip, Tom jerked against the restraints and pressed his feet into the mattress. She leaned forward to press her breasts against him. Her hazel eyes staring into Tom’s soul. He whimpered and whined.

“I am going to ride you, sunshine. You are going to tell me when you get close to cumming. You are not to cum without my permission.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom nodded. “Please ride me, please.”

She lightly slapped his cheek, Tom groaned. “That’s a good boy.”

Vivian lowered herself onto his cock. He was larger than her previous partners, stretching her walls. She moaned and hissed. Tom’s chest heaved underneath her hand, breaths short and shallow as he struggled to control his release.

“Oh, sunshine. Your cock may be my new favorite part of you.” She rocked up and down on him.

“Please, please. Please.” Tom begged. Her walls tight around him. “I need to—”

“It’s not about you.” Vivian stopped. Tom growled. “It’s about me. And I want to ride you until I come on your cock and then, if you are a good boy, I might let you come.”

“Yes, ma’am. Please ma’am.” he breathed.

Vivian resumed twisting and rocking her hips. Tom’s cock hit all the right spots inside of her and soon she was ready to orgasm. Tom’s face was twisted in pain and exertion. He wanted to please and impress you so much.

“I’m close, sunshine. Are you close?”

“Yes… ma’am….” he gasped.

Vivian thrusted hard down on Tom’s cock and she rubbed her clit and came with a guttural moan. As her walls fluttered and warmth washed over her.

“Come for me, my boy. Come.”

Tom bucked his hips twice and yelled as he came. His vision turned black and then white as he came. Vivian squeezed around him. Tom collapsed underneath her, completely spent, the denial of the week having the desired effect of intensifying his orgasm. His face plastered with a smile, sweat glistening his skin. Tom’s eyes fluttered open and closed.

“Tom?” Vivian asked, soft and sweet. She rolled off of him and undid the restraints and then the cuffs, kissing his wrists. “Sunshine?”

“Hmmm…” Tom hummed. She rubbed his neck.

“Tom… are you okay?”

“Yes, ma’am….” His voice trailed off, dreamy. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. Sit up, sunshine.”

Tom sat up with a groan. Vivian handed him a water bottle and snack. “Here.”

Tom blinked and took a swig of water and a bit of chocolate. “Thank you, ma’am. That was incredible. I’ve never….”

She smoothed down his hair and kissed him soft. “You did beautifully, sunshine.”

His head snapped her. “Are you pleased, ma’am? Satisfied? I can… I can…”

“Shhh…” She kissed him again. “I am very pleased. No complaints. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Tom unrolled the condom and discarded it in the garbage can in the room. He grabbed his leather bag.

“You won’t need that. Put it down, please.”

Tom dropped the bag. “But I… ma’am?”

“Come with me.” Vivian walked to the bathroom. “Shower or bath?”

Tom’s eyes darted between the tub and the glass shower enclosure. “Shower, ma’am.”

She flicked on the shower, waiting for the water to heat up. “If you are cold, you can put on your robe.�� Vivian gestured at a hook. Tom’s eyes widened at the obscenely short blue satin robe.

“That’s for me, ma’am? It’s awfully short.” Tom’s hands fidgeted in front of him.

“I know the perfect way to show off that perfect ass.” Vivian grinned as she playfully smacked his ass before pulling him into the shower and a deep passionate kiss.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston series #follow my lead

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san-shui · 3 years

Text

HAPPY (late) BIRTHDAY MY BELOVED! @djts-arts

i'm sorry this took a while but here's ur gift! it's based off on the MLB AU but doesn't follow ur plot. basically - let parrmour be happy lol! anyway i love you and hope you enjoy it!

i also posted it on ao3

On Monday

On Monday, I met you

It was the first day of school and the first akuma attack when Jane Seymour, a.k.a. Chat Noire, met Ladyblue.

How they met was by accident when Ladyblue flew into Chat Noire, who was walking along her baton like a tightrope, learning her new abilities. Their time to get acquainted was cut due to having to fight an akumatized classmate, Stoneheart.

But the moment Chat Noire met her partner in crime, she was entranced.

I liked you, I liked you

The girl had bronze skin and short, dark curly hair that parted on her left side with blue highlights hanging over her deep brown eyes.

Her skintight was black with light blue on the front in the style of an opened short sleeve jacket that stopped at the waist and on the legs from the knees down her to her feet, and within the light blue were black spots while white pearls lined along her wrists and waist into a “V” on the front. Her mask was opposite of the suit (light blue with black spots), and on her head was a black headband with silver spikes.

Even though she was in her superhero outfit, Ladyblue was gorgeous. Appearance was one thing, but her personality was another, and it's just as beautiful as her. Her bravery, her cleverness, her strength, her positivity, and her confidence.

It’s Monday – bad day

After defeating Stoneheart for the second and official time, the superheroes checked to make sure that the citizens were alive and well. To their surprise and glee, the akumatized classmate ended up dating their crush.

But good day for us

“They’re made for each other,” Ladyblue awed.

“Like us two,” Chat Noire flirted, offering her new partner a hand.

Good for us

Right then, Chat Noire’s ring beeped as the fourth paw flashes green – signaling one minute left before transforming back into civilian form. At that, Ladyblue grabbed her wrist and pulled it forward, showing the ring.

“Uh-oh, you see that?” Ladyblue asked lightly.

Chat Noire glanced at it then at her, and noticed how close their faces were to each other.

Even though they just met today, Chat Noire briefly wondered how those lips felt against her. It must’ve been subconscious because the next thing Chat Noire knew was her eyes drifted close then getting shoved back.

You wouldn’t let me kiss you

“Time to split,” Ladyblue said, releasing her hand.

Too stunned to move or speak, Chat Noire merely stood and watched as Ladyblue walked away.

“See you soon, Chat Noire,” Ladyblue said with a wave, then swung her yoyo out and launched herself into the air and behind some buildings.

Chat Noire smiled and dazely waved.

And that is why

She’s been in a relationship before and truly thought she was in love with him, but he turned out to be douche. She thought she learned to not fall in love so fast, but fighting alongside Ladyblue, Chat Noire was willing to do anything to get closer to her.

“Can’t wait, milady,” she whispered, then turned and vaulted away.

You were my kind of guy

~~~

Then Tuesday, I called you

Chat Noire was playing with her baton while lying lazily on a roof. After defeating another akumatized civilian, the superheroes agreed on doing patrol around London to further prevent harm and more akumas. Chat Noire wanted to talk to Ladyblue, but she left before Chat Noire could get a word in.

Chat Noire wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Wasn’t Ladyblue curious about her partner too? Or was she just too busy today? Chat Noire knew what it was like to be busy. Her civilian form, Jane Seymour, was a famous singer in England, she was bound to be crowded with meetings and rehearsals and classes.

Still, why did Ladyblue leave in a hurry?

Chat Noire supposed she could learn more about her baton’s gadgets. She had the rest of the day anyway. She was boredly pressing buttons when Contacts popped up on the screen. Seeing the only contact on her baton was Ladyblue’s, Chat Noire perked up.

She immediately pressed “call” under Ladyblue’s profile and waited eagerly. To her disappointment, the call went to voicemail. Chat Noire frowned, but it quickly vanished when an idea hit, and she pressed “call” again.

Several hours later, Chat Noire had left about 15 voicemails for Ladyblue of her rambling about her day. Unlike the others, the last voicemail was sincere as she asked if they could meet and talk. Assuming Ladyblue wouldn’t answer, Chat Noire set down her baton, sighed, and gazed at the starry night.

Ignored me, straight voicemail

A minute later, her baton vibrated with a beep, and Chat Noire glanced to see a notification from Ladyblue. She excitedly opened it to a message.

You texted back saying:

Ladyblue: play hard to get. ready. set . . .

You wouldn’t let me see you

Baffled, Chat Noire reread the text over and over. What was that supposed to mean? Was Ladyblue interested? Did she think she (Chat Noire) was messing around? She knew she was a jokester between the two, but she’s real when it comes to feelings.

Whatever it meant, it was clear that Ladyblue was not going to video call with her - at least for today.

Got so depressed by your test

Chat Noire sighed. That’s fine, she didn’t want to pressure her partner to the point of scaring her. Although she probably annoyed her with all of the voicemails. Chat Noire would gladly wait to see her lady, but that didn’t dismiss the depression that she felt at unanswered calls and the game Ladyblue set up.

Still I thought

Yet, a smile crept on her lips at the excitement of the game with Ladyblue, and she typed her response.

You’re the best

Chat Noire: u’re on >:P

‘Cause I’ve been so juvenile

That to take my time is just not my style

~~~

Come Wednesday, black coffee

After purifying the akuma, the victim offered them free coffee. Chat Noire happily agreed, while Ladyblue hesitated but agreed.

“You like black coffee?” Chat Noire asked her partner.

“Yeah, and you don’t?” she countered, raising a brow.

“Just because I look good in black doesn’t mean I like black coffee. I prefer flavor like myself,” Chat Noire teased proudly.

Ladyblue rolled her eyes, and Chat Noire laughed. Once they got their coffee and gave their thanks, the heroes left to drink in peace. They decided to sit on Big Ben, having a perfect view of their city.

Pure talking, clean touching

For hours, they talked and laughed. At some point, they discussed their double lives as being superheroes. While Jane was thrilled to have more freedom as Chat Noire, Ladyblue appeared anxious and concerned.

“I’m glad doing this to save London, but I can’t help but think I’m not the right one for this job,” Ladyblue confessed, staring down at the busy streets.

Chat Noire frowned and leaned back on her hands, gazing up at the sky.

“I get that. I doubt myself too sometimes. This may be bias but–”

Feeling bold, she placed a hand on Ladyblue’s. Startled, Ladyblue stared at their hands then at her with wide eyes.

“–I think you’re perfect for the job. Sure, we have flaws, but that’s what makes us human. I’ve never seen someone as smart, brave, and strong as you. I know we’ve only met and done this for three days, but it feels like a lifetime, and I can’t picture a better Ladyblue than you,” said Chat Noire sincerely.

Chat Noire wasn’t sure if it was the sun’s lighting, but she could’ve sworn she saw color on Ladyblue’s cheeks.

Oh, Wednesday, hump day

Ladyblue averted her eyes and stammered.

“I– um, thank you, Chat. I couldn’t have a better partner than you,” she said, facing Chat Noire again.

From the soft tone and her genuine eyes, Chat Noire knew she meant it and smiled. Then, to her astonishment, Ladyblue turned her hand over, grasped Chat Noire’s, and squeezed it gently. Chat Noire’s heart skipped a beat, and a silent gasp left her lips.

But we just held hands

“And I can’t picture a better Chat Noire,” Ladyblue whispered, giving her a small smile.

Chat Noire beamed and laughed.

“That’s a relief to know,” she teased.

Ladyblue giggled then gazed forward again.

You wouldn’t let me take you away for the day

As much as Chat Noire wanted to do more than hold hands, she was content with this for the day. Facing out, she too stared out at the city. About an hour later, Chat Noire decided to push her luck for the day.

“Are you up for hanging out more? Maybe go see a movie?” she asked.

Ladyblue chuckled and shook her head.

“Sorry, kitty, but I gotta stay. I have some things I need to finish,” she excused apologetically.

Chat Noire tried her best to hide her disappointment.

And I felt so juvenile

“Oh, that’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Good luck on your stuff,” she said.

Chat Noire then took Ladyblue’s hand, who was close to resisting until Chat Noire simply kissed her knuckles.

“Goodnight, milady,” she said, shooting her a wink.

Suppressing a smile, Ladyblue shook her head.

“Night, Chat Noire,” Ladyblue said.

Chat Noire smirked then jumped away. As she leaped from building to building, a part of her was feeling impatient with her and Ladyblue’s relationship (friends or more). She was clearly pushing it, but she didn’t know what else to do with these feelings – especially towards a girl.

The logical side of her informed Chat Noire that she’s taking this too fast, but the emotional, useless, romantic side of her wanted her to pursue this. Hell, she only knew her partner for three days, and Chat Noire was willing to do anything for her.

You gave an inch of time, and I took a mile

If Ladyblue wanted to just be friends, she would’ve said, right? Maybe she was interested in Chat Noire, but was too afraid to admit it or didn’t know it yet.

Arriving at her mansion, Chat Noire jumped through her bedroom window and landed quietly on her floor. She de-transformed into her normal clothes then walked over and face planted on her bed with a groan.

“You’re such a useless lesbian,” Plagg said bluntly, floating above her head.

“Shut up, Plagg,” Jane mumbled into her pillow, but Plagg ignored her.

“Psh, why love a complicated human when you have camembert!” Plagg said, throwing a piece of cheese up and into his mouth.

Jane flipped over onto her back and stared at the ceiling.

“She may be complicated, but she’s still amazing. I’m still not sure how we ended up getting these miraculous, but we’re meant to be. I can feel it,” she said thoughtfully.

Plagg rolled his eyes. “Yuck. You being all gushie is making me sick. If you need me, I’ll be in the cabinet with my love,” he said, stroking a piece of cheese then disappearing into a desk under the TV.

Jane grinned and shook her head then stared out her window at the moon as thoughts of Ladyblue swarmed her head.

I was so juvenile

‘Cause to take it slow is just not my style

~~~

Then Thursday, like Tuesday

Fed up with her family, Jane used Chat Noire as an excuse to flee her house. She roamed around London for a bit, helping citizens here and there, then ended up relaxing on top of a building.

Similar to Tuesday, Chat Noire called Ladyblue and left voicemails about her day. She probably shouldn't bother her, but Chat Noire found comfort doing this. She’s not sure why, but being able to talk to someone other than Plagg was relieving.

But unlike Tuesday, Ladybug never responded. This baffled Chat Noire. Was it something she did yesterday? Everything seemed fine . . .

Your “day off” from me

A loud crash came from behind, and Chat Noire turned to see a large robot stomping through the streets. It was about to hit another building until a yoyo stopped it, restraining its arm back. Chat Noire followed the line to see Ladyblue tugging on it.

Maybe that’s why Ladyblue hasn't responded. Whatever the reason was, Chat Noire had to put the issue aside as she sprinted to help her partner.

~~~

But Friday busy

Twice, Chat Noire tried to bring up Wednesday’s night event, but Ladyblue kept dodging it, using an akumatization or needing to hide before transforming as reasons to avoid the topic.

And Saturday too

Another victim saved, and Ladyblue and Chat Noire’s partnership appeared alright, but Jane could see through the mask (figuratively and literally) that Ladyblue was evading more moments with her. Jane’s heart broke the less Ladyblue interacted with her when they’re not fighting alongside each other.

Not wanting to deal with this game anymore, Jane made certain Ladyblue would talk to her the next day.

What’s up with you?

~~~

On Sunday, after a well fought battle with an akuma, Chat Noire caught Ladyblue before she left.

You don’t wanna kiss me

“Ladyblue, wait!”

You don’t wanna see me

Ladyblue froze and stared at her with apprehension.

You don’t wanna take me

“You’ve been avoiding me and I want to know why. I get you don’t wanna kiss me, but why don’t you want to see me? Or even be with me?” Chat Noire asked desperately. “Look, if it’s something I said or did on Wednesday, then I’m sorry. I know it seemed like a game and it’s only been a week now, but I really really like you. But if you don’t feel the same, you can tell me. It’s okay.”

So let me go

Chat Noire lowered her head and closed her eyes, waiting for the heartbreaking words. Instead, a gentle hand rested on her shoulder, prompting her to look up into kind eyes.

But you said:

“There’s things I know . . . you are cute, but juvenile,” Ladyblue said, booping her on the nose.

Then she placed her hand on Chat Noire’s cheek, who happily leaned into the touch.

“Don’t you know the greatest love takes the greatest while? So if you’re willing, take my hand and take the trial for just a mile and then another mile. Be patient for that one day.”

Before Chat Noire could blink, Ladyblue kissed her on the other cheek. When she pulled back, both faces were blushing. Ladyblue chuckled and looked at the sunset.

“Look, kitty, it’s Sunday,” she said, then glanced back at her. “Come with me, and I’ll make it worth your while. Maybe it’s not far away or coming down the aisle, but . . . I do wanna kiss you and try this out if you’re okay with going steady,” Ladyblue asked shyly.

But I wanna kiss you now

Chat Noire beamed. “Can I kiss you now?” she asked eagerly.

Oh . . .

Ladyblue giggled and nodded.

And kiss you

Chat Noire grinned and cupped her cheeks then connected their lips.

And kiss you

Ladyblue tasted like sweetener, and Chat Noire couldn’t get enough.

And kiss you

They broke away for air, but they could barely get some as they laughed at one another.

And kiss you

They then rested their foreheads against each other as they calmed down – goofily smiling.

And kiss you

“Is it too soon that I just want to kiss you?” Ladyblue asked in a hushed tone.

And kiss you

Chat Noire giggled. “We can do it as much as you want, milady,” she whispered.

And kiss you

Ladyblue chuckled then closed her eyes and kissed her again, which Chat Noire gleefully returned.

Till Monday

#six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #parrmour #six mlb au #chat noir! jane #ladybug! cathy #songfic #my writing #not my au #Jane do be impatient #somewhat OOC

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crimsonandcloverwrites · 3 years

Text

bhah ch3 reread u know the drill

what is Jamie doing with all this oil I am concerned

god the tension of knowing Jamie is there but not talking to her but Dani probably secretly hoping she will

aww is she picking up more wonder woman comics for mikey?? cute

gah I love that they slip back into playful banter so easily despite everything going on

also 10/10 that the gays in town would be trying on the tackiest sunglasses in the service station (and 12/10 that Jamie actually brought them)

Dani Carson car adventures!! i would read a whole 20k word chapter just on that

sdfkjdshjfhd Dani throwing herself to the ground when she sees Jamie in the supermarket I’m losing it

“Yeah and then she left” ouch

THREE GAYS IN A SUPERMARKET WHAT WILL HAPPEN

aww Jamie Carson reunion tooooo cute

oh my god the tension of them standing back to back trying not to touch lmao

Jamie rly is the teeniest in town huh

Dani getting all protective and mad over Mikey having to sit outside school is v sweet

Jamie to the rescue how cute

Jamie’s collarbone: hello. Dani’s gay panic: LOOK AWAY

also sdkjfhdkjhg Jamie working w her hands is so hot we need more fics just talking about her getting dirty. for the good of the nation

there is so much going on here the cute teasing Dani feeling all weird abt their whole dynamic jamie giving her looks the engagement ring I am not equipped to process all of it

“you think there are secrets in this town?” just ur burning love for each other ladies!

once again mechanic!jamie... i am compromised

aww Dani bby literally does not know what to do with herself. the juxtaposition of the depth of their relationship and the little moments of familiarity with the awkwardness of people who don’t really know each other properly anymore is so fucking well done here

Eddie’s “honey I’m home” moment carrying her over the threshold afkjhsdkjf good for him

Dani and this house got beef huh

Dani: sometimes things with Eddie just don’t feel right but I’m sure that’s fine. Dani when she loses a tiny piece of her relationship w Jamie: level 5 meltdown. Literally the theme of this fic is “honey you got a big storm comin” and I love it

this dig at pineapple on pizza........ offensive

“Instead, she reset her mask, pulled the rope to part the stage curtains, and tied the other end around her neck.” Jesus.

“the other part of Dani, the part that never knew how to stop missing Jamie” i will cryyyy

starting a gofundme for Dani’s car asap

Eddie putting the moves on I can’t look. but lmao when he finds a girl that’s actually into him and wants this kind of attention his whole world is gonne be rocked

can we get Dani some therapy pls this is not how u should feel abt the person ur gonna marry. or about yourself

*gasp* the wontons mixtape

hmmmm I’m Not in Love and A Case Of You really are a one-two punch huh

lol I just went to play them and I was apparently in the middle of listening to Stop Making This Hurt by The Bleachers which feels... apt

fuck. making a mixtape for someone truly is peak romance huh? music my beloved

hmmm i just realised that this timeline parallels the flashback chapters w a new Taylor in school in each how cool. and also Nan vs Jamie taking on responsibilities w these kids and stepping up for them in their own way pls my emotions

aahh the coffee date I kinda forgot how fast Dani made this relationship rekindle bless her

wait clara and horace does that mean abigail is in Dani’s class too??? she lives??

a reserved sign pls that’s so cute

OWEN! god I love the levity and banter w Jamie he brings to fics

there is just so much fondness between them it always shines through no matter what they’re talking about I love it

this backpacking chat... envisioning Dani n Jamie once Mikey is grown up going on a big tour of europe together n fufilling Dani’s dreams

the fact that Jamie was drawn back to this place... by what hmmmm ms taylor. by what

oof this really is a painful rehashing of the past huh.

“star hike” lmao

"I can fix it." "You can't." OUCH

ooft just rip the bandaid right off. “I missed you. Everyday.” god my heart

arguing in an alley behind the pharmacy that’s gay rights

"Because if it was going to end, then I wanted it over quickly!” jamie ‘everyone always leaves so I cut them off before they can hurt me‘ taylor everyone. I am not doing well

ok with the context of like... everything from the future chapters this scene hits even harder than the first time i read it jesus

still can’t get over Dani ‘trying not to recall the memories of the last time they were in this room together’ was Jamie absolutely falling to pieces in her arms *screams forever* i remember reading that line and imagning so many things it could have been and yet yall went for the ultimate stab to the heart bravo

god I’m just thinking about how much they’ve both changed in those 10 years and how much they’ve stayed the same and just. god the way they’re so drawn to each other still!!!! i can’t even comprehend

blue schrunchie cherished friend

i feel like there is a significance to the red door I cant place and all my brain will provide is “you, me, her” but polyamory adventures is probably not the direction this is going

Jamie like “want a tour of ur future home babe? lets go” (I do love how enchanted Dani is by all of it though)

gah I love Jamie and Mikey together soooo much

find u a person that eats all the foods u don’t like. pickle soulmates

heh “Miss Dani” poor Mikey is goin through it lolol

they are all so cute together i love this lil sunday afternoon family

“Dani kept her gaze fixed on Jamie for just a second longer, studying her profile” gay

there has been several mentions of Jamie’s unreadable/blank expressions this chapter and I can’t stop laughing at her losing her mind over how much she loves Dani and trying to keep it in check every time

THEY’RE FRIENDS AGAIN

AND THEY’RE HUGGING OH HAPPY DAYS

oooh the sandalwood cologne

idk why this Jamie Eddie handshake is making me laugh so much but I love them

Eddie pulling Dani in closer to himself when Jamie’s there..... he knows

staying awake until 2am to finish rereading gay fanfiction... clownery (but fun!) goodnight

#bhah #silly time

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prioritysope · 3 years

Text

Cheating

Reader: Female

Character: Oikawa Tooru

Rating: Explicit

Chapter: 14/26

please read the prologue first!

"You know we don't need to go to school together, I don't want them to start creating rumors." Gaby spoke. She had Oikawa beside her, while he looked at something on his phone.

It was normal for them to go to school together, but that was because he was with Iwaizumi. However, now that they are no longer together, she felt that anyone could misunderstand him. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed how Oikawa frowned still at the sight of her on her cell phone, which caught her attention. It was kind of weird that he was so glued to his phone so early in the morning.

"What is it, Kawa?" She leaned a little closer to him, but Tooru quickly put the phone away as he shook his head, giggling nervously.

Gaby gave a laugh, denying and decided to focus on the road. She saw that they were already close, but looked to each side to see if no one was there. Upon confirming, she grabbed Oikawa's hand to make him stop walking. With her nerves on the surface, she placed her left hand on the brunette's cheek, giving him a small smile. Tooru did not stay behind her and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closer to his body. They spent a few seconds looking directly into their eyes, which caused Gaby to blush; and Oikawa couldn't help but laugh at that.

"You are so fucking cute." Trooru whispered quite close to her lips, finishing closing the distance between them and planted his lips on hers, in a soft and short kiss. As they parted, he heard the school bell ring. "Let's go before we're late, precious."

------

It was lunchtime and Gaby was watching the Volleyball team practice. It was somewhat uncomfortable, because despite everything Iwaizumi was still part of the team and it was only because Oikawa insisted. All morning everything was quiet at first, but as time passed, everything became tense. Some Oikawa fans booing you in the hallways or in the classroom itself — which she hasn't told Tooru, all not to worry him. Also, she sometimes saw Scarlett tease from afar, which infuriated Gaby more and more.

She felt like something was going to happen, or something happened and within herself she prayed that Scarlett and Iwaizumi weren't involved.

"Are you okay, Gaby-san?" Kunimi's voice snapped her out of her trance, shaking her head slightly.

"Yes, Kunimi-kun. Don't worry." She gave him a smile to reassure him.

Kunimi wasn't convinced by that at all, and he didn't want to see her that way either. He decided to sit next to her with her cell phone in hand. He wasn't sure whether to show her, as he didn't know if Gaby already knew everything. He returned his gaze to the court, sighing as he saw everyone focused on practicing; although there was a clear tension between Oikawa and Iwaizumi.

"Gaby-san, haven't you seen Instagram?" He asked a little doubtful, unlocking his phone to directly go to Instagram and search for Scarlett's profile, clicking on her last post. "Take this easy, okay? I wouldn't want you to get in trouble." He finished by giving her his phone.

Gaby looked at him somewhat confused, but took the cell phone and fixed her gaze on the screen. She blinked a few times before scowling at it, her anger beginning to run through her veins. She repeated the video a couple of times while she reread the caption of the post: Then the whore was me, how pathetic.

The video was of her date with Oikawa in that park, sitting on the bench kissing each other. Gaby squeezed Kunimi's cell phone, then handing it to him to get up when looking at the time. It was almost time for the next class. She left the gym without even saying goodbye, slamming the door hard, which left everyone confused, except Oikawa because he realized that Kunimi was showing him something on her phone and from her reaction, he already knew what it was.

------

"Gabs!" Oikawa yelled as he tried to catch up with her at the school entrance. He managed to grab her by the wrist, stopping her. He observed some sign of anger, but saw nothing, just looked totally serious. "What is it, love?" He whispered just to both of her as he brought his right hand to her cheek, stroking it with his thumb.

Gaby shook her head, not wanting to talk about it, even though she knew Oikawa would insist until she said something. "I guess you already saw Scarlett's post, just this morning when we were getting to school."

"I—." He tried to explain, but Gaby interrupted him, placing her index finger on his lips, "Don't worry, I know you didn't tell me so as not to screw up my mood. "

A soft giggle escaped Oikawa's lips at her words. He gave a small kiss to the finger that was still on his lips, making her feel a bit embarrassed and quickly pulled her finger from him. Turning around she saw Scarlett walk alongside Iwaizumi, both laughing. A smirk appeared on Gaby's lips, feeling the anger run through her veins once again.

"So what do you want to do—." Tooru began to speak to notice how Gaby was walking towards Scarlett and Iwaizumi, causing him to let out a deep growl in his throat. "Shit, this won't end well." He muttered to himself. He jumped when he felt hands touch either side of his shoulders, out of the corner of his eye he realized it was Mattsun and Makki.

"Oikawa, if I was you I'll go with her. Although it would be crazy to see Gaby and Scarlett fight." Mattsun blurted out, making the rest of the team laugh, and he rolled his eyes.

Tooru followed her, watching as Gaby took Scarlett by the arm to turn her. Hajime's eyes widened in surprise at that. At first Oikawa wanted to interrupt so that Gaby doesn't end up in trouble, but at this point he didn't care about anything anymore and he decided to stay close enough to her in case something happened that he had to get into.

"Would you mind explaining what you uploaded to me, Scarlett?" Gaby was the first to speak, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed somewhat. Her anger was evident, but the laugh that her black haired let out, made the anger increase; however, she was going to control herself. "This is not for laughing."

"It will be for you. You have to admit that you didn't expect me to humiliate you like that." Scarlett said with an air of pride, beginning to circle around Gaby, which managed to enrage her even more. "Aren't you ashamed that the school realizes what a bitch you are by picking on your boyfriend's best friend, I mean ex-boyfriend." She laughed again, drawing more attention from some students still coming out of school.

"Humiliate me? Honey, don't you think you're humiliating yourself?" Gaby said with a small smile. "In the end, you didn't wait a bit to go into Iwaizumi's arms as soon as we finished or he went into your arms, since I kicked him out of the apartment. Or did you forget, Iwa-kun? Oh right, you like to tell your version on your own way to be the fucking victim of all." She finished with a laugh, raising her eyebrow towards both of them, who were now looking at her somewhat nervously.

It was pathetic how they both wanted to come out as the good and innocent of the situation, when they were both the ones who started it all.

"I should teach you a lesson. So everyone sees how pathetic and slutty you are." Scarlett spat, grabbing Gaby by her hair, tugging a bit. Action that made Oikawa alarmed, but Makki and Mattsun took him by the arms, shaking their heads, telling him not to get in.

"What if I tell the whole school how you've been spreading your legs to Iwaizumi in the last eight months of our relationship?" Gaby replied, doing the same as her, only she knocked her to the ground.

A gasp of surprise was heard from the students who were witnessing everything while others were already recording everything.

Gaby climbed on top, taking her hands to place them on either side of her head. Her anger was nothing to bring out the worst in her, which she did not want so as not to fall at the same level as her. However, her dignity and reputation was at stake. She wasn't going to allow the person she used to call her best friend to try to screw up her life.

"And do you think they will believe you? Don't be delusional, they've already seen my proof, nothing will change their mind." She whispered to her as she struggled for Gaby to release her, but she couldn't.

"Did you forget the video I showed you the last time you went to my apartment, mh? I still have it, honey. So don't try to challenge me." Gaby warned with a smile on her face, patting Scarlett's face a couple of times.

"Y-You wouldn't, Gaby, you're not as vengative as you try to appear." She kept trying to push her, succeeding.

On the other hand, Tooru was with his phone in hand, recording absolutely everything. A smile on his face. He handed the cell phone to Mattsun and approached the scene to pose, letting out a couple of laughs at his stupidity. He took his phone back, still recording.

Everyone let out a surprised gasp when they saw how both girls were already fighting. Hair pull, slap and fist. That was like watching a UFC fight, something quite comical.

"Shouldn't you separate them, Oikawa?" Iwaizumi spoke harshly, arms crossed as he looked seriously at the brunette. "Or does this excite you?"

Tooru just shrugged, a smirk on his face. He cared very little about it, it was time for Gaby to take revenge on everything.

"That is my girl!" Oikawa yelled without any shame, getting a couple of laughs from the team and some weird looks, which he didn't mind in the least. However, now is when Oikawa and Iwaizumi got to separate them, looking at each other with total venom.

"I do not dare? Babe, watch me do it, just don't be surprised." He finished Gaby after giving the black haired one last slap and letting himself be carried away by Tooru.

"Let's go, baby. Before everything ends for the worse." She whispered to him, taking her hand and joining her fingers to leave the place.

#haikyuu!!#oikawa x oc #oikawa fanfiction #hq oikawa #oikawa smut #haikyu fic #oikawa fluff #hq fanfic #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst

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kidney9-9 · 4 years

Text

Petty Chapter 5

Yay it’s updated, I hope you enjoy! MJ in this series is not a love interest of Peter Parker, but she is friends with him and Ned. In this chapter, you’ll see the struggle going on with the Reader, as she tries to make a decision about Peter Parker.

Tags will be in the reblog; to be added to the taglist send me an ask, or click the link in my bio to fill out the form :) Let me know if I forget you in the taglists as well, or if my tags aren’t working. Thank you!

Series Masterlist

Peter Parker x Reader Warnings: Swearing and some anxiety Word Count: 1.6k

You shuffled the mini cookies into your mouth as you read through the lines over again. You muffled your mouth shut as the teacher glanced over to your desk, and you moved your head down even more towards the desk, trying to lose his attention. History class was… it was shit. You were terrible at it, and you needed those notes, but Peter ruined them.

The pre-exam made no sense to you, because all the questions were so mixed up. It included questions about the type of clothing people would wear, and the language, but you barely paid attention to any of that stuff, instead you tried memorizing the dates and certain names. It sucked. You glanced up to the clock, instantly wincing when you noticed you only had five minutes left, and you just got to the second page of it.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Peter either, which did you no good now. You were going to apologize, maybe even try to get to understand why he wanted to be a stupid superhero, but now you felt even more pissed. You cleared your throat, shaking your head at yourself to stop thinking about him, and focus on the test.

You scribbled down random things at the end of the test, for the bonus question, just hoping your teacher would be forgiving. The bell rang the second you sat your pencil down, causing you to sigh. As you glanced over your exam quickly, you cringed, realizing some of the mistakes you made and you bit your lip, shaking your head as you stood up.

“Look- I don’t know what to do, you’re going to be stuck here during vacation. I have to go out of town for those meetings, and they booked my flights really far apart. You’re old enough to stay home for three weeks by yourself as well, and I’ll send you money for food and supplies.” Your mom rambled on the phone as you strolled through the halls. She called you a few minutes ago, telling you about this sudden trip, and you didn’t know what else to do but feel worried.

“Mom, but what about, what if someone breaks in?” You questioned her back, stressing about the idea of being home alone and the exams coming up. Your mind spun up with many other possibilities about everything, while your mom laughed back, thinking you were just joking, “It’ll be fine. You’re already an adult, just see this as practice.” She responded.

You cleared your throat as you found a seat outside. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner though, right?” Your question was left unanswered as your mom yelped out, “Oh got to go, Simon’s calling,” You sighed as she hung up. You glanced around, looking for any of your friends as the second bell rang, signaling the official end of school.

You hummed, not seeing any and looked back down to your phone. Should I? You wondered as the thought of Peter Parker came back to your mind. Your finger edged over the Twitter app, as you thought if you should look him up. You clicked on it after another second of hesitation and sighed as you quickly typed out his name. “Shouldn’t be doing this…” You mumbled to yourself, clicking on his profile. You bit your lip, almost nervous as you scrolled to his latest tweets. You raised your eyebrows as you started to read them over, “Does anyone have notes for English? Lost them and freaking out about exam.” You pouted at it, instantly feeling guilty again.

Should you feel guilty though? Not exactly, since he destroyed your notes for History, causing you to fail, or at least barely pass that class. That history test was supposed to boost your grade just the slightest, so when you failed the real exam (because you were terrible at memorizing history), it would lower your grade to a C, or around 70%. Sure, even that grade wasn’t that “good”, but it was passing, and you could retake it during the summer, before college.

Speaking of college, your application to NYU was accepted for now. You were happy with that. If everything worked out, you’d be going there. You scrolled through Peter’s twitter again, still feeling the ounce of guilt build up into something more, as you started to bounce your fingers against the bench. The doors opened again, and you glanced up, seeing a few of your friends and classmates. You grinned to a few of them, waving as your leg started to bounce nervously.

You looked back down to your phone after the door closed again, and you scrolled all the way back up to the top, rereading his last tweet. You hummed, shaking your head to yourself, “Oh, fuck it.” You decided, getting up in an instant and stumbling to the door nervously.

You needed to help him.

That was the human thing to do, right? Or the villain redeeming themselves? Yes, it was, you nodded, coming to terms in your head.

Where was Peter though? You looked at random people, groaning as you couldn’t see his face, and stomped through most of the first hallway, confused. You huffed out a sigh and leaned up against one of the walls, glancing around. A few people still were walking around, and you knew for sure that Peter or one of his friends still had to be here. You glanced down the hall, back to the lockers he lifts in the mornings sometimes and wondered if he’d even let you help. It was quite a dumb idea now that you thought of it.

He was close to hating you, and you were close to hating him. But why did you even want to help him after he fucked up your history grade? You kept second guessing and thinking yourself, he was a complete asshole! Why would you even help?

You groaned aloud when you thought of an answer immediately, because he’s hot, and because he’ll be held back probably without help. Your groan was heard by MJ, and she furrowed her eyebrows at you slightly, recognizing you as the girl that fucked Peter’s grades up, he told her the whole story so many times.

She cleared her throat, staring at you almost indifferently, “What are you doing?” She questioned causing you to snap out of your thoughts. You let out a strange noise, shaking your head as you thought about what to say. “I just- uh, nothing.” You responded, stuttering back to her.

You knew her from your freshman year computer science class, which was boring to say the least. You remembered how she would turn her computer off ten minutes into class and scroll through her phone instead, because the teacher never paid attention. “It’s MJ, right?” You asked politely, scratching your head. She nodded, raising her eyebrows back to you.

You both stood there, almost awkwardly. You blinked, realizing you’ve seen her hang out near Peter before, or with him. You opened your mouth for a second before closing it, wondering if you should really go through with this plan.

You listed the pros in your head: he might be kind to you, he’ll forgive you, your mom won’t be upset with you anymore, and your cousin will act normally again. Cons would be everything fucking up and backfiring. You let out a sigh at the thoughts, before you focused on MJ again, seeing she was still standing there.

You had to do it.

“Hey, MJ, you know Peter Parker, right?” Fuck, fuck, nope, you instantly regret it. But you watched as MJ tilted her head back to you suspiciously. You griped onto your hands, tugging on your fingers nervously as she nodded back to you.

MJ didn’t know what to say except this, “You’re not going to kill him, are you?” Your face melted into a weirdly guilty look as you laughed back, holding back a groan at yourself. No, you weren’t going to kill him, and even if you were, you wouldn’t tell one of his friends. That would just be dumb.

“No, of course not! He’s fucking Spi-” You cut yourself off, cringing in distress at the almost slip up, and quickly covered over it, “He’s fucking splendid, I love him so very much.” You lied through your teeth, almost wanting to roll your eyes at yourself.

“Great,” MJ smirked back, chuckling quietly at your obvious devastation, knowing what you were trying to hide. “Were you going to confess to him? I’ll go with you.” She continued, causing you to groan, shaking your head.

You wanted to crawl in a hole and stay there. Like a rabbit, or a gopher. Or maybe one of those bears that go into hibernation, you quickly shook your head at the thoughts, getting distracted. “I- no, I just wanted to talk to him about the English exam.” You explained back to her, dropping your head low to stare at the floor.

Wow, the floor was very interesting now. It looked amazing in fact, to the point you’d- okay, stop. You blinked back up to MJ, listening as she explained where Peter was.

He was out back at the football stadium, sitting under the bleachers with Ned and a few other classmates. You thanked her and briefly apologized to her for lying about loving him, which she laughed over, shrugging it off. You huffed quietly to yourself as you started to walk back outdoors, preparing yourself to just ask if he’d like any help. Maybe he wouldn’t want it, you had no idea, but you were about to find out.

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hotchslut · 4 years

Text

believe it’s the fright

spencer reid/reader (strangers to enemies to lovers)

summary: though horribly unqualified, somehow (y/n) lands a gig interning for the bau department in quanitco. already nervous beyond belief about starting her new job, the first person she meets seems determined to make her time with the team a living hell.

a/n: because the internship period with the fbi is ten weeks, this is going to be a ten part fic with each part being a new week. i always wanted spencer to have a girl in his life who wouldn't kind of baby him like the rest of his friends do and also love the idea of opposites attract when it comes to such a specific character like him. i also think spencer can unknowingly be a bit of a dick sometimes and we never really talk about that, so here's to exploring that side of his person a bit more. this first chapter acts more as a prologue, introducing you to the characters and circumstances. next chapter will have more of the two interacting and working together. please enjoy!! <33

The goal was simple. Finish the 10 week internship at the Quantico division of the FBI without screwing everything up. Hopefully, she’d leave a positive enough impression to secure a job for herself immediately after. Realistically, she knew she would end up barely scraping by, but at least she’d have enough practical experience to write a believable award winning screenplay about the ins and outs of a special agents life.

She knew she wasn’t in the right field. She was basically just a film student. But after graduating from a school she hadn’t even left her hometown to attend, she was desperate for some real life experiences, and how many people could say they had worked with the FBI, even for just a little bit? Her electives in journalism and visual arts had been enough to meet the internship requirements, her GPA was undeniably impressive thanks to a fairly easy course load, and no one could argue that she was one hell of an interviewee. So there she was, all alone in a new state, walking into the biggest and most intimidating building she had ever stepped foot in, to start working an internship she wasn’t even sure how she booked. She had been told it was her passion which had gotten her there, but she couldn’t help but thinking about how painfully stupid the other applicants must have been to allow her to be in this position.

“What floor?”

As she stepped into the elevator she looked up to see a man, she assumed was only a little older than herself, with his fingers hovering over the buttons. She was shocked, or maybe annoyed - which definitely translated to jealous - that someone so young could have such a stable career already. He must just be another intern.

“Six, thank you,” she said, a little louder than she intended. The man pressed the button but looked at her with hesitance.

“Are you sure?” He asked, still waving his fingers near the buttons, as if he was waiting for her to correct herself so he could make sure she got to the correct floor.

Fuck. This is exactly what she had been worried about. She had checked her introductory email 3 times just on the walk from the front door to the elevator so she could be absolutely certain she was heading to the right floor. “Uh, yeah, I can check the email again,” her voice wandered off as she pulled out her phone to quadruple check. The elevator was going up quite quickly, like a ticking clock, as she scrolled to find the information she was looking for before they arrived. “Yeah, no, it’s the 6th floor.” she turned her phone for him to look at, but he didn’t, he just looked at her. There was nothing she hated more than a starer.

“My bad,” he said excruciatingly slowly. “I’m Spencer. I guess I’ve just never seen you around.”

Guess that meant he wasn’t an intern. Something about him was putting her off. She had hardly spoken a word to him and she could already feel his raging superiority complex. “Well, it’s my first day,” she explained as the elevator doors opened. He started to walk out, giving her a faint smile.

Spencer made his way over to his desk, briefly looking back at (y/n) to make sure she was out of ear shot. She was standing uncomfortably, looking at her phone, which he assumed she was using as a shield to mask that she had no idea what she was supposed to be doing.

“What’s with the new girl?” He asked JJ and Derek who were already seated.

JJ almost instantly perked up. “I didn’t know we were getting a new girl,” she confessed, looking over at (y/n), who was still in the same position.

“She’s a little underdressed for her first day, don’t you think?” Spencer judged. The three of them started examining her, with little to no subtlety.

(y/n) had been anxious about this. She spent three hours the night prior, trying to decide on an outfit that she thought would be appropriate. Everything she tried on either felt under or over dressed, but in the end she felt that comfort was the most important thing. Besides, in ten weeks time, no one was going to remember what she wore on her first day.

So there she stood, at the front of the bullpen terrified, in a black crewneck with a collared shirt underneath, french tucked into some black mom jeans and vans on her feet. She had absolutely no idea where to go. All she knew was she had to find Aaron Hotchner’s office, as she was supposed to be shadowing him for her time there. She quickly read and reread the email, trying to find any hint of where Hotchner’s office could be. She didn’t look up until she sensed someone walking straight towards her.

“You look a little lost,” Derek said, stopping in front of her.

A forced laugh was all she gave him, as she looked through her phone. She didn’t want to admit that she needed help already, but when he didn’t move, she brought her eyes back up. The first thing she saw wasn’t even Derek, it was Spencer, sitting at his desk, looking right at her. Why was this guy so weird? Did he send this other guy to check in on her? “I’m, uh, looking for Aaron Hotchner’s office,” she finally explained, turning to Derek for some unwanted but highly needed help.

“Just up there,” he explained, pointing to one of the only offices even in the room. His voice was soft, and she didn’t feel judged by him for not knowing anything. “I’m Derek.” He held out his hand, which (y/n) was happy to take.

“I’m (y/n),” she shook his hand with a genuine smile. “I like that you shake.” She wasn’t sure why she said that, and tried to fix it with a simple, “Thank you,” before nodding towards him and heading up to Hotchner’s office.

The door was closed, which left her feeling more uneasy than it should have. Didn’t he know she was coming? It would have been a lot less threatening if he had just left it open for her to peak her head in. Nothing about this experience had been exactly welcoming thus far.

After some hesitation, she finally knocked on the door. Definitely louder than she meant to. As she waited for someone to open the door, she could feel eyes on the back of her head. She wasn’t sure if it was because Spencer was actually still looking at her, or if it was just the feeling he left her with. He was like a spider in the distance that once you see, you can suddenly feel crawling all over you. Luckily these thoughts and feelings were interrupted when Hotch opened the door and ushered her in.

“Hello, (y/l/n), come in. Take a seat. I’m Aaron Hotchner, it’s great to have you with us,” he remarked, waiting for her to take a seat before he followed suit behind his desk. (y/n) thanked him quietly before he continued, “(y/l/n), I have-”

“I am so sorry to interrupt, but I kind of hate that, so can you just call me (y/n),” she pleaded, laughing slightly so he knew she wasn’t trying to be mean.

Hotch was taken aback, but politely obliged before explaining the role she would be taking on with the BAU. He was about halfway through speaking with her, when she realized she had not been processing any of the information she was being given. She couldn’t help it - she was a visual learner and Hotch was doing nothing to accommodate that. Not that she thought it was his fault, either.

“I know you passed all your training very well, but obviously you’re not cleared to be in the field, so when I do have to leave with the team, we’ll have you stay behind to work on the paperwork and be a resource to us here,” Hotch paused, noticing how overwhelmed she looked by all the information.

They maintained silent eye contact while (y/n) tried to process everything before piping up. “Can I have a gun?”

Hotch continued to look her in the eyes. Always the profiler, he was irritated that he couldn’t read if she was joking. Taking a risk in assuming she was, he wittily replied, “When you solve your first case.”

“Deal.” She smiled in return, as she noticed Hotch’s lips curl just slightly as well. She could tell he was going to be a tough one to completely break, but she was willing to accept that challenge.

“Now, unfortunately we don’t have any active cases for you to look through,” he began again before being interrupted by his phone beeping. He immediately looked down and sighed, “I stand corrected.”

(y/n) laughed, a genuine laugh before remarking, “I was literally just going to say, how funny would it be if that was a case coming in.”

Hotch didn’t react, he just grabbed his things and stood up, prompting (y/n) to do the same.

Everyone had gathered around the round table, with Garcia standing in front, ready to present the case, when Hotch and (y/n) walked in. “Everyone, this is (y/n) (y/l/n), she’ll be joining the team as an intern, she’s been assigned to shadow me,” Hotch introduced the girl who observed the room full of people. She quickly grew uncomfortable when she saw Spencer, giving her a quizzical look. Hotch continued to introduce everyone by name, but (y/n) was hardly listening. “And this is Doctor Spencer Reid,” he finished off.

“We’ve met,” she spat coldly, earning a head nod from the apparent doctor. She suddenly noticed there were only two remaining seats, one of which was next to Spencer. Before she could get moving, Hotch began walking over the other seat, across the table. She stepped forward, trying not to broadcast the reluctance she was feeling. As she moved to get comfortable she saw Spencer trying to give her a welcoming smile through her periferal, but her stubborn nature forced her not to acknowledge it.

“Alright, if everyone’s settled and comfortable, you won’t be for very long,” Garcia spoke with slight disgust of what she knew she was about to say, “Thomas Victor, 34, found dead in his girlfriend's kitchen.”

The team all leaned forward slightly as Garcia put up photos of the victim and crime scene. (y/n) was the only one smiling; she had never seen crime scene photos in real time before. Being a fan of horror and true crime, she found this to be almost fun. It wasn’t until she noticed Spencer noticing that she herself noticed, and had to remind herself this was, in fact, real, and probably not something to get too giddy over.

“Zoom in on the neck,” Derek instructed. Garcia followed, never turning to face the screen. “Look at that stab wound.” He was right - That stab wound to the neck was nasty… And oddly circular.

“What could’ve caused something like that?” JJ pondered out loud.

Garcia’s eyes lit up before remarking, “Aha. That we know. There was a bloody corkscrew on the ground. There was also a very nice bottle of red on the counter, so my guess is the unsub caught poor old Thomas preparing some wine for him and his lady and-” She shrugged, allowing the team to infer the rest.

“Where’s the girlfriend in all of this?” JJ asked.

“Nowhere to be found,” Garcia explained, scrunching up her face, as if she felt bad for not being able to help out any further.

Hotch sat up straight, asking, “Garcia, what more do we know about the victim?”

“Relatively low risk. Worked a 9-5 office job downtown. Rumour on the street is, he had just started seeing this girl, um, Melaney,” Garcia looked down at her notes, “Paulinchuck. Friends say they had been talking on an online dating site for just a couple days before meeting for the first time. Last night was supposed to be their 5th date.”

“You know, with online dating on the rise, so are the numbers of first dates resulting in violent crime,” Spencer chimed in, adjusting himself in his seat, “Just in the last five years alone, reports of abuse and even murder spiked drastically within the online dating community.” Just as (y/n) thought he was about to shut up, he kept going. “In fact, police in the UK are dealing with approximately 20 online dating related crimes a week. You hate to think about how bad it could be here in America, a statically more violent country.” He nodded to himself and sucked both of his lips in, waiting for a response from anyone.

“Very cool, Spencer,” (y/n) whispered sarcastically, hopefully not loud enough for everyone to hear.

JJ tried backing him up by adding, “So, there’s a fairly high chance this missing girlfriend is actually our unsub.”

The team started bouncing ideas off each other while Garcia kept spewing off potentially helpful information, but for the life of her (y/n) could not focus. She didn’t want to fuck up her first case by not being able to recall important information from this initial meeting, but if Spencer clicked his pen one more time…

“We’ve got a lot of digging to do on both the victim and his girlfriend. Wheels up in 30,” Hotch eventually announced. Everyone stood quite hastily, going to grab their things and head to the plane. Garcia stayed put, gathering all of her belongings, while Spencer seemed to be moving at the pace of an injured turtle. (y/n) just sat, relatively unsure of what she was to be doing. She knew she was to stay at the headquarters and process the paperwork from the case and be readily available to help the team in any way she could from her position, but there wasn’t exactly anything to work on until they actually arrived on the scene. Plus she didn’t even have a desk.

Not wanting to look like she was stalling from getting any work done, she decided to strike up a conversation with Spencer, who was still placing papers into his file. Without looking at him, she said, “You’re a little young to be a profiler, aren’t you?” When he didn’t immediately reply, she assumed it was because he heard it all the time and she was either boring him or accidentally offending him. Unfortunately, the curse of her anxiety forced her to continue, “I mean, I’m 22 and I’m only an intern, I can’t imagine having a whole ass career with the FBI already. And a doctorate, huh? How do you even find time to accomplish so much in so few years?”

Spencer had finished getting himself together while she rambled, and threw his satchel over his shoulder. “Well, I’m not 22, I’m 33,” was all he gave her in response.

(y/n) was taken aback. “Could’ve fooled me. You look 20.” She wasn’t sure if he would take that as an insult or a compliment, but she wasn’t quite sure which she meant it to be anyways.

“But I got my first doctorate at 17, so either way,” he trailed off.

His first doctorate. (y/n)’s blood boiled. The way he was basically standing over her and rubbing in her face just how smart he was. Not that he had actually done anything wrong, she knew he was just answering the questions she had initially asked, but she hated people who were smarter than her. More, she hated people who were smarter than her and weren’t shy about letting her know. Granted, she knew she wasn’t all that intelligent, so most people were significantly smarter anyways, but she couldn’t help the way she felt.

“I have to go. Good luck with your first case, intern. You’ll need it,” He spoke, emphasis on “you’ll” as if anyone else wouldn’t need the luck.

(y/n) watched him leave, like she was throwing daggers to the back of his head with her eyes. “He’ll grow on you,” Garcia smiled, about to leave the room herself, octopus mug in hand. (y/n) wanted so badly to retort with how certain she was that he wouldn’t, but refrained. She didn’t want to come across as a judgemental bitch on her first day. “I’m heading to my lair, so just holler if you need me!”

About an hour of scrolling her facebook and instagram feeds had passed, before (y/n) decided she should probably take some initiative and get some work done. The issue was, she still didn’t know exactly what it was she was supposed to do until she got some information from a profiler. It took some internal convincing, but eventually she walked out towards the hall, looking for Garcia’s office. She figured she might have some work she needed help with, and (y/n) was happy to help until she had a task of her own. She didn’t know where her office was, but it only took a few minutes of wandering around like a fool before she found it. The door was locked and needed a keycard to open which (y/n) clearly didn’t have yet, so she knocked. She didn’t know why she was so scared, she just didn’t want to get anything wrong. It was no secret she was going to be the dumbest one on the team, and she didn’t need another thing for Spencer to have against her.

Garcia must have been waiting, or, alternatively be a really fast runner, because the door opened almost immediately. “Yes, hello, how may I assist you padawan?”

“Um, I don’t really have anything to work on yet, so I thought maybe you could make use of me? I also, uh, don’t have, like, a desk, or space, to set up,” (y/n) laughed as if she was telling a joke, which she wasn’t, but the nerves were building up.

Garcia lit up, radiating enthusiasm. “Yes, yes of course,” she practically squealed, ushering (y/n) into her office and pulling up a chair. “We will get you to work right away, and I’ll set you up with a desk immediately after. But first, work.”

Suddenly any trace of anxiousness disappeared, and for the first time all day, (y/n) was completely absorbed with excitement. Maybe it was the motherly tone of Garcia’s voice, or maybe it was the assortment of figurines and toys surrounding her computers, but something about this dark room was comforting.

Garcia spent the next few hours with (y/n), showing her the basics of her program; the stuff anyone could pick up on. As she was explaining how to follow a phone’s GPS on the map, a phone rang, startling (y/n).

“Hellooooo, my big brained beauty, I am at your service,” Garcia quipped into her cell, as she put it on speaker for the two of them to hear.

“Two things. I need you to check Melaney’s employment history, go as far back as you can. I’m talking about high school jobs. I also have a hit on her new phone number since the one on file was out of service, so I need you to see if you can track it,” Spencer didn’t ask, he instructed, before reading off the number.

“Yes, yes, easy peasy lemon squeezy. (y/n), you got the phone?”

(y/n) didn’t speak, not wanting to converse with Spencer, she just nodded and got to work. She was still a little hesitant around the system, so she knew it would take a couple extra minutes.

Spencer didn’t speak for a moment either, but as (y/n) was coming to learn, that boy didn’t stay silent for long. “(y/n)’s there?” he questioned Garcia, as opposed to just speaking to (y/n) directly.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” (y/n) teased.

“Aren’t you an intern? Shouldn’t you be bringing Garcia her coffee, not trying to intervene with the case the adults are working?” Spencer snapped. Though nothing in his tone would suggest it, she knew it had to be a joke. There was no way he was that mean.

(y/n) dug back almost immediately, “I’m not that kind of intern, dumbass.” She didn’t mean to call him that, it just came out. It was what she called all her friends when they were joking around, the only difference being Spencer was not her friend.

It felt like minutes passed before Garcia yelled, “Hit ya back!” and hung up the phone.

Four days had gone by, and (y/n) was loving her new job. She had finally had the chance to help out every member of the team, at least over the phone. Garcia had kept her promise and helped her pick out a desk. The catch being, there were only two available, so it was either across from Spencer or squished in with another team. Since Spencer was away, she didn’t exactly mind her new spot, but she also knew that would change the moment they had to spend a whole day just feet apart. Garcia was still insisting that the two would grow close, because according to her, no one ever disliked Spencer. But also according to Garcia, he was charming and had one of the kindest souls she had ever come across. Sure, she technically knew him much, much better than (y/n), but somehow she found those claims hard to believe.

The case had closed, and (y/n) was working on the last bit of her paperwork when she heard the team wandering into the bullpen.

“What are you doing there?” a shrill voice asked from behind her, and it didn’t take a genius to know it was Spencer trying to accuse her of something. He made his way to his side of the desk and took a seat, staring her in the eyes, waiting for a response.

“This is my desk, Spencie. I’m like a real team member now.” She grinned, gesturing to her space, which she had set up with a few personal items and had organized neatly.

He didn’t smile back, he just quietly mumbled, “Not really.”

Spencer didn’t try to continue the conversation, but (y/n) wasn’t done. Besides, she was dying to talk to someone who wasn’t Garcia. As lovely as the woman was, (y/n) found she appreciated her more in small doses. “So, is four days, like, average? Like, for solving cases?” she asked, genuinely curious as to what to expect in the future.

“2.367,” Spencer spoke, not looking up from the piece of paper in his hand.

“Okay, yeah,” she replied, with an influxion in her voice that told Spencer she had no idea what he was saying.

“That’s how many days it takes us on average to solve a case, from the time we get debriefed on the details here to the time we’re getting ready to board the jet back home.”

(y/n) dropped everything and leaned forward. She made sure to catch his eye before speaking, “I just love how you’re so specific about everything. All your statistics? Absolutely fascinating to me. Anyone else would’ve just said it was about 2 and a half days, but you… You’re clearly so much better than anyone else, because you give exacts. Super cool.”

Spencer subconsciously started playing with the pen on his desk, indicating he was getting upset, but beyond that, he kept his cool. He couldn’t let her win. Not that easy. “You don’t find it fascinating.”

“No, I find it weird. And annoying.”

Just when Spencer was about to completely rip into her, Hotch came down the stairs and interrupted. “That was a draining one, I want everyone to head home, get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he gave his farewell. Before heading to the elevator, he turned to (y/n). “Good work, (y/n), it’s great to have you on this team.”

She smiled and thanked him, making sure to throw in a joke in an attempt to crack him, before turning back to Spencer, who was already on his feet and raring to go. “Night, Spence,” she spoke while gathering her things up herself.

“Don’t call me that,” was all he said as he left the office. Something about the way he said it made (y/n) feel bad for the first time. All she was doing was wishing him well on his way out and he had to make her feel like shit over it. Over a nickname. She made a mental note that “Spence” was apparently crossing a line while she waited for the elevator that he was on to go down, so she didn’t have to leave the building with him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid/reader #criminal minds fic #spencer reid series #spencer reid fic

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faunusrights · 4 years

Text

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 19

IN THIS EPISODE OF MURPHY IS SCREAMING, CONSTANTLY, TRAPPED IN THEIR PERFECT NIGHTMARE:

Glynda was saying: “I know we aren’t friends. I know we aren’t partners. I know you’re a criminal. But—I think I can trust you. I think I have to trust you, even if you’ve done awful things before.”

EVERYTHING GOES WRONG BUT LIKE SOMEHOW WORSE THAN EVER? LIKE A WHOLE NEW BRAND OF LOW. LIKE CINDER’S GOT A PICKAXE AND THE CENTRE OF THE PLANET CALLS FOR AID.

IT’S BEEN A WHILE HUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but dw offal hunt, like the rising of the sun, the arrival of winter, and the eventual downfall of capitalism, always returns. so lets go.

(i just quickly reread chapter 18 liveblog to remember what happened and Ah Yes I Remember Now. The Suppressed Memories)

The place was emptier without Glynda. Quieter.

/gunshot oh we’re in danger right out of the gate huh? we got some yearning right out here? right now? how quickly the turn do tables.

Cinder appraised her work, holding the beige coat up to the light and squinting.

man i forgot. i FORGET. how much i just love cinder in this fic. sometimes she kinda zones to the back of my mind where she sits waiting for me to start thinking about her again, but now i remember that this cinder is Peaque. look at her GO, minding her own BUSINESS. im proud of her. does she know i love her.

It didn’t take long to don her new, fire-proofed clothes.

in another world, in a more comical plot, she used asbestos. it didnt go well.

The subtle warmth of the Dust teased tension from Cinder’s stiff muscles, even as she marvelled at the strangeness of her own bedroom’s space. It seemed bigger now than it had the last two nights.

She chose not to dwell on it.

i choose to dwell on it! ME!!!! I CHOOSE TO DWELL ON IT. HEY CINDER WHAT THIS GAY SHIT. hello. ma’am. can we look deeper into this. i, for one, would like to, and i, for one, think its of value to think abt this. that said, small segue

Quietly, Cinder murmured, “I didn’t freak out.”

THE FACT SHE SAYS IT ALOUD LIKE EM AND MERC CAN HEEEEEEAR HEEEEEEEER i am. INFATUATED with this family. cant wait for the 100k spinoff thats basically an elongated beach episode where they go to like. alton towers. or butlins. six flags??? thats a thing in america right??? anyway. beach episode. call me. (wink wink nudge nudge push push shove shove)

We had to stop back in because Merc left his favorite binder, and it was 2 in the morning, so it was easier to crash here for the night than mess with the ship’s autopilot.

them,,, THEM!!!! mercury is just a son and childe. thast it. he canot change this. i love these kids so much i am SHAKING THE MONITOR RN!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAA

Stuck here in one of the homes they’d shared, Cinder missed them terribly. Missed the sound of their voices and the easy comfort of their presence. Finding the time to contact them had been difficult, between managing Glynda and Hati both, but Glynda was gone, and she’d sent Hati onwards to Atlas. She remembered her call with Emerald, before arriving in Umbraroot; she knew it had not soothed her or her fears.

im sorry was this chapter targeted at me, specifically, as a human being on planet earth? GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THIS FAMILY!!!!!!!!! THIS WONKY OLD BANDAGED UP FAMILY UNIT!!!!!!!!!!!!! i thrive every time they are mentioned on the page. it is a blessing. my succulents grow stronger each time they show up.

“No,” Cinder argued softly, “I had to. Mercury, you deserve to hear it from me as well. I am sorry. And I am promising you: I’ll come back.”

For a long, heart-wrenching moment, he was completely quiet. It was good that Cinder was alone in the apartment; laying herself bare like this would be unbearable with an audience.

GODDDDDDDDDDD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

i am OBSESSED WITH THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM GOING TO BE THINKING ABOUT THIS UNTIL I D I E. of all thing the remaster does better than og, this is just. SPEEDING AHEAD. this whole CONFLICT this whole MESS just makes everything so much RICHER its like when u splash some wine in yr fancy food or stick some cinnamon on yr favourite desserts u dont NEED TO but it adds that lil SOMETHING,,, that little KICK that just ties the flavour profile together and in this case ofgughugguhu it just GIVES SO MUCH. im making SNOW ANGELS in the WORDS on the PAGE.

“Mercury. If I could prove it to you, I would. But you have to—trust me. For just a while longer.”

“It’s getting harder,” he said. He didn’t sound like he was lying just to hurt her. That wasn’t spite. That was honest anger. And it made her feel like dirt.

im less picking these for specific instances of like, things i want to say, but more just because bits of this r rly just so /chef kiss. cinder has these.... endearingly (take that whichever way u like) human qualities in OG to rly make u realise she had ties to add to her #Doubt but the remaster is just AMPING it up and u FEEL IT and ive never been more SYMPATHETIC to a round-faced sinnamon bun of assholery and fire id DIE for cinder fall and this is a fact PUT IT ON MY GRAVESTONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Is there anything you need?” What was this? Cinder could barely focus on her words. It felt like... “Anything? At all?”

“We’re fine.”

“Mercury, wait please—” She was losing him. “I think—”

“Just hurry up.”

The line went dead.

this place is not a place of honor.................. no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here........................ nothing valued is here................ IM DYING

Cinder began to type out her response, and that was when the nausea really kicked in.

[...]

She recognized this now.

Glynda.

stress stress stress stress STRESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

There shouldn’t be anybody. Cinder had done everything in her power to cut Glynda from people who would interfere. To isolate her. Make it easier to bring her to Atlas, to the frozen north, to her mother and the machine…

Cinder’s esophagus quivered; furiously, she shut her eyes and thought of nothing.

god cinder don’t remind me that you’re an asshole and dipshit and also a moron im trying to be NICE and CARE ABT YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP REMINDING ME YOU’RE A PIECE OF SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FOR FIVE MINUTES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The front door clicked open.

Cinder couldn’t have said how much time had passed, only that it had passed slowly. What she did know was that it was Glynda returning, the sensation of boils bursting wafting off her soul. It crawled over Cinder’s flesh. She curled in on herself.

There were mites under every nailbed. Salt in her weeping mouth.

offal hunt’s brilliant use of this horror aspect is something i have tried previously to emulate and here’s a fact, take it from me: that shit is HARD. offal hunt consistently able to whack those real nasty, really Disgusting vibes on the head EVERY TIME is a work of art. i mean, kc and diesel do not fuck around, and therefore i am NOT surprised, but it’s only when u try this shit yourself that you realise: this is hard! this is difficult! it’s a huge testament to how GOOD this fic is in every way. also this whole fucking body horror aspect is something i didnt know this fic needed, but it did, and here we are.

Thickly: “Things were going okay. If you hadn’t gotten nasty, I might have smoothed things over. I could have fixed things with my son.”

with my son

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I CANT TAKE IT EVERY TIME ITS TOO MUCH FOR TO BEAR I CANNOT HANDLE IT I CANNOT STAND IT ITS LIKE BEING SHOT JUST DIRECTLY IN MY DICK

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

im like sweating rn

Glynda said, “I’m scared.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

I SAID IM SWEATING

Glynda asked, “Are you lying to me?”

And Cinder said, “What?”

“About me. About Witches. About Ozpin—” Cinder’s guts went sour. “—About anything. I need to know if I can trust you.”

I SAID I! AM! S W E A T I N G

“I know you’ve lied to people. Hurt people.”

Adrenaline and the image of her kids’ faces behind her eyes made a potent, sick cocktail. “—Not. Now.”

so lets like double back to when i said hey was this chapter written to target me specifically and as it turns out, yes. yes it was. yes it was and as MUCH AS I AM LIVING FOR THIS MOMENT THIS SWEET BUILDUP THE EXPLOSION AND THE CRATER IT ALL LEAVES BEHIND

so this next bit is like. i cant really quote one section but as i was saying in Vague DMs, this whole bit feels like wading through mud. usually if you say something consumes energy to Read it’s in a Bad Way when yr bored but this is more like. you Feel cinder all over everything feels so sluggish and it’s like dragging your own corpse around as you try and leave and you’re TIRED and your LEGS HURT and you’re kinda thinking god what if i just fell face down for just a moment of my LIFE.

The putrid weight of Glynda’s soul filled the room until there was no space left for her.

it’s like being trapped in a sauna, like getting stuck in a humid waiting room. where do you GO. what do you DO. god this whole section is fantastic and offal hunt NEVER fails to fucking nail the Vibes but reading it is HARD. i literally keep having to stop and breathe like ive been holding my breath. jesus h christ.

a small intermission for a mood:

“Get fucked.”

back to regularly scheduled hell

Out of the bedroom. Down the hall. The walls were sweating with heat. She tasted smoke.

i love that i just said how i feel like im trapped in a sauna and it turns out: thats because me and cinder both, baybee!!!! hahahaha help

Glynda’s soul chewed her to the marrow. “Move, Glynda.”

cinder being hunted at the start of this fic: teehee! im running away! now im gonna getcha! heehee! arent i clever :) cinder being hunted now: this uh. this blows, actually,

Cinder’s pulse roared in her ears. Her hands twitched. She smelled Ochre Brown’s round face melting off. His wide smile shattered with each of his teeth, going black and popping like corn.

this chapter is probably my favourite so far for this blending of so many elements. i cant even begin to like. THINK STRAIGHT about how all of this is tying together. the lore. the THEMATICS. like i said this character rly is just Rich with what og lacked and oh is it RICH. im gonna read this chapter in future and see so much that i know ive already missed. holy shit.

“Ms. Fall,” she said. “The White Fang requires your presence immediately.”

NOT NOW

Cinder stood there looking at it for a moment. Her thoughts were slow. Copper-tinged. Something small and indulgent whispered to her through the blood-fog.

It was obvious enough what would happen if she got into this car. The driver would take her to a secluded place, where she would be ambushed by a squadron of battle-hungry White Fang grunts.

They’d try to take her down. And she was a killer, wasn’t she? Ochre Brown wailed in her ears with every thump of her runaway heart. Her hands itched for action; her teeth, for blood.

She’d burn them black.

never mind! you are already dead,

She thought about Glynda. About her saying that if there was trouble with the Fang, she wanted to come. That she would fight for Cinder.

She thought of Glynda’s question: What aren’t you telling me about Ochre Brown?

Yeah, fuck that.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!! WHAT A CLIFFHANGER!!!!!!!!!! WHAT A MOMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!! MORE MOMENTOUSLY: WHAT A CHAPTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this is EASILY my favourite chapter so far. EASILY. everything about this was peak offal. the relationships. the dynamics. the dialogue. the vibes. the Grossness. the fighting. the EVERYTHING. this is some other level and its BITCHIN. PEAK. that said im now very tired. im going to have a cup of tea and Consider Things for a few hours. brb.

#liveblog #rwby #offal hunt

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yibodie · 4 years

Text

I've been thinking a lot about this old comic I came up with years ago called Miller the Killer.

It's about a mentally unstable serial killer cat who's owner gets blamed for the killings. I came across the comic script and fuck... Rereading it made me really proud of my past self. I thought I would share it here

So I present you, Miller the Killer

Issue One

Page 1

Panel 1: [ From behind we see a fair blond hair man, arm casually hanging on the bar, chatting with an attractive woman and enjoying themselves. They can not be heard. Comic title in the upper right-hand corner “Miller the Killer” ]

P2: [ Close up, we see the blond-haired man laughing with a suave demeanor ]

P3: [ We see the woman returning the same body language ]

P4: [ The woman's hand gently clasps the man's forearm ]

Page 2

P1: [ The woman whispers something inaudible in the man's ear ]

P2: [ The pair have left the bar. We see from behind them walking down a street. It's late, the only light is the street lights ]

P3: [ They then walk up to a small home with a camper parked on the side of the house. The reflection of the street light is barely visible]

P4: [ Keys unlocking the front door ]

Page 3

P1: [ The woman sits on the futon in the living area. It's covered in sweaters and blankets. The man walks towards the kitchen nearby ]

Man: “Would you like anything to drink?”

Woman: “A beer would be nice if you have any”

P2: [ The Man reaches out to a knife block on the counter. Looking towards the living room with a large smile ]

Man: “I have oranges if you'd like a slice in your beer.”

P3: [ The woman starts looking through the pile of photos and books on the coffee table. There are many books for learning several different languages. The photos show a variety of landscapes, the man himself, an elderly gentleman and a young blue-haired woman ]

Woman: “Oh. Yeah, that's sounds perfect. Thanks!”

P4: [ In the kitchen, we see the man is holding a large knife in a ready position, you can hear the woman from the other room ]

Woman: “Do you travel a lot? You have a pretty extensive library over here.”

Page 4

P1: [ The woman is reviewing the photos more closely while the man is audible in the kitchen ]

Man: “Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that? I travel for work, I'm a professional travel photographer. It's mostly for travel catalogs and books.”

[ He starts reaching for something not viewable ]

P2: *Dramatic Black and white* CHOP

[ Knife hitting wood, we see the top of this action and the man ]

P3: [ Back in the living room ]

Woman: (suggestively) “I imagine that can get quite lonely"

P4: [ Repeat black and white shot] “CHOP”

Page 5

P1: [ In kitchen ]

Man: “It definitely can sometimes. I typically come back here a few times of the year for a break. Hopefully, I can stay longer this time.”

P2: [ Repeat black and white shot] CHOP

P3: [ Man walks back into the living room carrying two beers both with orange slices in them ]

Woman (off-screen): (suggestively) “I hope so too.”

P4: [ Both sitting on the couch, behind one arm of the couch we see a pair of cat ears and the top half of reflective eyes ]

Woman: “Cheers”

[ They clink their beers ]

P5: [ A cat pops over the couch arm and begins begging for attention ]

Woman: (smiling) “Aww! You have a cat?! What's this Cutie's name?”

Page 6

Full-page panel: [ Up close view of the woman holding the cat's name tag, it reads “Miller” ]

Man: “That's my buddy, Miller”

-End of Issue-

Issue 2

Page 1

P1: [Albin walks through the front door with a take out bag in hand]

P2: [Albin looks up and notices something)

Albin: “Oh, I didn’t think you’d be up yet. Did Marty give you an earlier shift?”

P3: [We see a young blue-haired woman lounging on the couch eating cereal and watching TV]

Woman: “Nah, Liz needed some extra hours, so I gave her my shift, *sarcastically* out of the goodness of my heart”

P4: [Albin begins to walk towards the couch and kick the woman’s legs off the couch to sit down and eat]

Albin: “Ha yeah and I’m sure the new Light Slayer game had no contributing factor to your generosity.”

P5: [The woman grabs something from the side of the couch and flashes the video game]

Woman: “That’s just an added bonus Pal. The pre-order came in today.”

Page 2

P1: [The pair continue to watch TV, chat, and eat their respective food]

Woman: “I saw you leave with that chick last night. How’d that play out?”

Albin: “Eh, we put on a movie. She must’ve been dead tired because she passed out pretty quick. I just ended up driving her home. She wasn’t all that interesting.”

P2: Woman: “Well what movie did you put on?”

Albin: “Does it really matter?”

Woman: “ Just tell me..”

Albin: “Fine, it was “The Last Breath”.”

Woman: “Hahaha, well that’s why you didn’t get lucky dude!”

P3: Woman: “Well if it helps at all, she was a terrible tipper. So you dodged one there”

[They hear a cat door swing open nearby]

P4: [Miller enters the room with something in his mouth, barely visible]

Albin: “Hey Buddy!”

Page 3

P1: Woman: *looking at Miller* “Oh come on Mil… AGAIN?! I got the last one!”

P2: Albin: “God damn it *sighs* Alright”

[Miller drops a dead bird at Albin’s feet, looking pleased with himself]

P3: [Miller begins walking down the hall to Albin’s room, blood on his face. We can hear Albin and the woman’s conversation continue]

Albin: “This is what like the 4th day in a row right?”

Woman: “5th if you count the lizard he brought in twice.”

P4: [We see Miller turning the corner into Albin’s room]

Albin: “I guess he’s just really happy I’m back home.”

Woman: “*sarcastically* Oh yes Albin, our lives revolve around you! You’re our light in the darkness, our warmth in the-”

Albin: “Alright Dylan, I get it. Soon your sarcastic tone will be intangible from your normal one”

Dylan: “That’s the goal.”

Page 4

P1: [Miller grabs a crumpled receipt that’s laying aside a pair of pants on the ground]

P2: [He walks into Albin’s closet and begins climbing the jackets in the closet]

P3: [He hops to the top shelf of the closet and crawls through a hole in the ceiling]

P4: [He enters a hidden room in the attic and walks towards the center of the area shown]

Page 5

P1: [Once he reaches the middle of the room he begins uncrumpling the receipt and extracts one claw]

P2: [The claw dips into a puddle of unknown liquid nearby]

P3: [Unseen by the reader Millers begins scratching and drawing the bird he had just brought in. We see from the view of the paper, looking up towards Miller’s face.]

P4: [He sticks the something on the wall, Miller’s body is blocking what it is]

Page 6

P1: [He backs away and we see the drawing, an almost unrecognizable drawing of the bird]

P2: [Further pan out to a larger view of the same scene. We can see Miller’s silhouette from behind]

P3: [the Same scene but from Miller’s POV the coloring goes to Sephia. His silhouette has changed to show him standing up like a biped and can make out the outline of a coat and hat. The crude drawings are now well-photographed pictures of a few dead animals. All the photos have numbers and names on them. Some of them have red slashes on them]

P4: [Upclose profile of Miller with a trench coat and hat. Looking down with a smug face]

Page 7

Full-page panel: [Same view, Miller’s face has changed to looking at the wall with a determined expression]

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sharkfish · 4 years

Text

ps i loved this one

(rereading bookmarks edition)

i’ve been rereading stories from my bookmarks as a comfort thing. i’m getting real deep in there to stuff i haven’t (re)read for years, and damn do i have good taste. the ones i’ve read recently that you should, too:

(under the cut so i’m not that asshole that makes you scroll past an endless post)

A Change of Scene by SurlyCat

When Dean goes over to see his Dom on Christmas Eve, he isn't expecting Cas to play naughty Santa, and neither of them is expecting how it turns out for them.

ooooomg fuck me up with that sex to lovers thing featuring bdsm. yessssss

A Room of His Own (or not) by Valinde (Valyria)

Dean took a deep breath and reassessed the situation. He was in bed with a guy, sure, and technically they were snuggling, but it was Cas. The guy had absolutely no reference on what was appropriate physical contact between two dudes sharing a bed in the... normal, completely unsexy, no-funny-business, way.

cas is fallen, dean is confused (what else is new), A+ cuddling. that’s the fic.

Boys On Film by LoversAntiquities @tragidean

But maybe that’s what it is—maybe Castiel’s finally realized something Dean is too chicken to admit, despite the fact he’s been jerking off to the idea of Castiel fucking him for the past few weeks. The idea warms him as much as it pains him to think about, his friend not being able to talk to him about something like that. That has to be it—it’s the only explanation. Castiel likes him.

“Or maybe he knows you do cam shows.”

Dean chokes on his burger.

idk what to say, i love a good sex worker fic and here you go. @tragidean is always here with that first-class content.

Castiel's Angel by Valinde (Valyria) @valinde

The angel took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. He was fidgeting Cas noticed. Usually he was so bizarrely at ease in his human form, lounging around and tossing winks and smirks at anyone with a pulse. That more than anything had Cas straightening on his stool and wishing he was a little less tipsy.

“Ineedyoutogroommywings,” Dean muttered in one long, almost unintelligible, string. He was blushing.

all my fellow wing hos should flock* to this fic. i also love me a good switcharoo with angel dean (and hunter cas, as this is an alternate canon universe). and dean gets all claim-y, which is also my jam.

*this was unintentional but a pretty funny joke

For Science! by pm_lo

Selected transcripts and supporting materials from Dr. Castiel Williams and Dean Winchester’s seminal study on physiological and psychological sexual response by gender designation.

i believe this was the first abo fic i added to my bookmarks. story time: many, many moons ago, i kept track of my reading list. i was doing that “50 books a year” thing so it was mostly for tracking that, but i had another tab for fics, because i read few enough that i could track them. i rated things and sometimes left notes, and by all the abo ones i was like “don’t tell anyone i read this.” yes, i shamed myself for liking abo. it was a dark time in my life.

anyway, then i read this, and was like, all right i can see what’s going on here.

this is a great fic for multiple reasons, and the format is one. it’s written as dialogue-only transcripts from their experiment. it’s hard to make that kind of format work, but pm_lo ain’t fucking around.

Just a Stranger On the Bus by Amelia_Clark

December 31 9:32 PM When Castiel boards the bus in KC, they think it’s empty at first—but when they toss their backpack onto an aisle seat and climb in after it, there’s a muffled yelp from the dimness at the back of the bus. They turn in time to see a man in a faded Carharrt jacket, sitting up and yawning as he rubs sleep out of his eyes. The man’s hair is greasy and matted down on one side, and there’s drool on the side of his face; nonetheless, he’s ridiculously good-looking.

“Hey man,” he says. Castiel does not correct him. “This can’t be Chicago.”

the non-binary tag, just like the trans tags in general, are a house half-built and left to rot in the rain. even if that wasn’t true, this series is goddamn amazing. also there’s rimming. also there’s a line in there that said something like “they don’t dislike their body, it just never felt like theirs” and i had a lightbulb moment irt my own experience. did dean ever wear carharrt in the actual series? if not, mistakes have been made.

Just Turn Around and Go by PorcupineGirl @porcupine-girl

Dean should be happy. His best friend and housemate of five years, Castiel, is moving out to live with his boyfriend, Balthazar. Dean's career is going great, so he can easily afford the house on his own now. This is just growing up, moving forward to the next phase of their lives.

It would be awesome, if he weren't in love with Cas.

Well, here we go, he thinks as he opens the refrigerator and digs around for sandwich supplies. First day of the rest of your life. Time to move the fuck on. As he slams his meat and mayo and pickles down on the counter, he considers adding the bottle of whiskey he knows is hiding in the cabinet, but decides that he has enough self-respect to wait 'til five. Then he'll get fucking blackout drunk. Yep. Awesome.

y’all, do i even have to say anything about this? roommates to friends to a pathetic amount of pining without saying shit to disgustingly in love. also i think i cried, but i’ve been in tears so many times in the last week, who’s to say.

Plus One by ceeainthereforthat @ceeainthereforthat

Castiel Novak might have to attend three weddings in two months, but he’s not about to let his brother play matchmaker. His family’s Internet streaming company is too important to let a relationship steal his time, but he knows exactly what to do–hire someone to pretend to be his boyfriend.

Dean Winchester has worked five-star hospitality long enough to know how to fit in with Castiel’s crowd, and this job could score him the connections to make his acting career take off. It’s a business deal, no matter how they’re drawn to each other. When the lines of their contract start to blur into real feelings, can they withstand Castiel’s family and jealous fans working to split them up?

there are a lot of great fake dating stories out there, but this one takes the cake (or, at least, a slice of it). also, i cried a lot rereading this, both “ohhh god i love their love” tears and also “ohhhh god this hurts so bad” tears.

Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche)

Despite their age gap and differing social circles, Castiel has struck up a warm friendship with Mary Winchester, a wealthy widowed socialite. When Castiel needs a place to stay, Mary invites him into her house, where there’s loads of spare room. Castiel’s aware that they make an odd pair, but he doesn’t fully realize how things look to outsiders, especially to Mary’s eldest son. All Dean Winchester sees is that his mom has apparently hooked up with a hot young guy (who is totally Dean’s type) and that makes things… weird.

they’re both oblivious idiots in love, cas is grey-ace, dean’s a total dork, it’s all just very lovely (and frustrating in the way oblivious idiots can be!!!).

PS - annie d is writing marvel fic lately and i’m sure it’s fantastic if you’re into that kind of thing.

Support Your Local Gay Beekeeper by Powerfulweak

It’s not like Dean goes on Grindr very often, just when he’s bored and alone. The blue-eyed guy's profile reads "Beekeeper, 29, 5'10, Single, I watch the bees." Dean is intrigued. He has to send a message.

this is a series that starts with some great phone sex and then goes on to very, very awkward sex injuries. a goddamn cringefest that had me in complete horror imagining it. but it’s fun! they persevere! people so rarely write about Sex Going Wrong and i love @powerfulweak for taking the bullet for us on that one.

Take Me Home Tonight by Persephoneshadow @persephoneshadow

“Come on, we’re finding you someone to…engage with sexually or whatever,” Dean explains, chancing another swig of beer before going on. “Anyone in this bar, no limits, who would you would be your top choice to bang?” “Well, you, ideally.” Dean spits out some beer before collapsing in on himself, legitimately choking this time. “Excuse me?!” ---- Or the one where Cas wants to have sex and Dean is there to help.

your classic denialist “i’ll be your wingman” turning to “actually imagining someone else touching you makes me want to punch someone.” which is dumb, because cas actually wanted dean all along.

Words with Friends by betts

"Dean Winchester is as straight as an arrow. He’s a lady’s man of epic proportions: the king of the one night stand, the messiah of the friends with benefits paradigm, the emperor of perpetual bachelorhood.

Except, apparently, when it comes to his best friend, Castiel Novak."

***

Wherein a longstanding acquaintanceship leads to friendship, then best friendship, then sexting, then dirty talk, then mutual masturbation, then, inevitably, fucking.

look i think you’re always in good hands with @bettsfic. but this one has some good sexting and phone sex right at the start, which i’m totally into, and then it gets even better. cas is a lil bossy, by which i meant to say he’s the kind of bdsm geek who has equipment installed in his bedroom for sex purposes.

You're The Only Stranger I Need by lyndsie_l

When Castiel receives a text from a stranger, he finds himself engaging in conversations daily. He's drawn to the outgoing college student and longs to interact with the other man as often as he can. Slowly, he finds himself falling in love with the other and can't imagine ever meeting a more beautiful person.

The only problem?

He's never actually met this other man.

be still my heart! a long distance/texting/phone sex thing! i want to read it again right this second. cas is such a cool nerd, dean is a brat, it’s a good time all around.

if you enjoy these fics (and you should), please give the writer some love via kudos and/or comments. <3

ps - as always, if i didn’t tag the writer and you know their tumblr, please tag in the comments. i don’t think there’s a writer alive who wouldn’t be happy to be on a rec list. :)

#sharkrecs #sharklist

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simplyshelbs16xoxo · 4 years

Text

‘The Adventure of Philip Anderson’ Chapter 8: Shot in the Dark

Through sickness, a second degree burn, and school draining my creativity, I finally managed to get this chapter written!

FFN | Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee?

Sherlock was pacing back and forth almost manically. The wall behind the sofa was covered with crime scene photos, maps, and newspaper clippings. Molly even saw her own photo up there along with one awkward photo of the Holmes brothers. She was sitting in his chair by the fire, nursing a cup of chai and a book in her hand. Despite how much she tried, though, Molly simply couldn’t keep her attention on the story, having reread the last paragraph three times to make sense of it. A week had passed since the identity of the murderer was now known, and Sherlock had been working nonstop to track him down.

Molly shut her book closed loudly, a sight escaping her lips. “Sherlock, why don’t you take a moment away from the case, and actually eat something?”

“It’ll only slow me down—we need to catch Moriarty. He’s not as clever as his deranged brother, which is why he’s been laying low. Too much activity and he’s sure to be found,” Sherlock explained. He felt exhausted. The case was going nowhere. Feeling a bit lightheaded, he supposed Molly was right about him needing more sustenance—he hardly ate a morsel this past week.

“Your homeless network is scouring London for the man. Until he comes out from the shadows again, there isn’t much else to be done,” Molly told him. She stood up, leaving her now-empty cup and book on the table, and closed the distance between them. “Come to bed with me, Sherlock. You need some rest…we both do.” She was due to work a double shift starting bright and early in the morning.

He frowned in confusion. “I thought you wanted me to eat something?”

“I do, but if it’s between eating and sleeping, then at least get some rest if nothing else,” she replied, almost pleading. “What we need to do is wait until we get a tip from someone before he strikes again.”

“Order takeaway and eat it in bed?” he suggested.

“Best idea you’ve had all day,” she agreed.

“Mmm,” Molly remarked, happily swallowing the first bit of chow mein she ate from the carton, chopsticks in hand. “This was a great idea.”

Sherlock nodded in agreement as he ate, listening closely to the program on the small telly that now sat in his room. It was Molly’s, brought over from her flat. She was going to leave it, but Sherlock knew how she loved falling asleep to a favourite program sometimes, so he insisted they bring it along. They were watching an American show that could only be described as a conspiracy theorist’s wet dream. Despite the absurdity of the show, Sherlock found that he enjoyed it quite a bit.

“Do you think I’m spooky?” The male protagonist—Mulder—asked Scully.

“We should do this,” Sherlock told her.

“Do what? Become FBI agents? Join the MI6?” Molly laughed.

“No—go out on the road, solving mysteries,” he explained.

“Isn’t that a bit Scooby Doo for you?” she asked, stuffing more chow mein in her mouth.

Sherlock smirked in amusement. “And for once, I got that reference.” He had loved the show as a child. It taught him that the real monsters were only human, and fed his compulsion to solve crimes.

They finished their food in companionable silence. When the episode finished, Molly reached out for her fortune cookie. She broke it open, her eyes taking in the words, a gasp escaping her lips. “Sherlock, open yours.”

“Molly, I don’t—“ His eyes widened when he read hers.

You’ll be next.

He scrambled to open his, forcefully breaking it apart. His fortune bore the words that the consulting criminal had spoken to him years ago.

I will burn the heart out of you.

Mycroft Holmes was having a fitful sleep. He felt as though something was wrong, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. This brother of Moriarty’s that bore the same name—it was alarming. He was seeking revenge for his brother who he felt had died in vain all because Sherlock Holmes still lived. They were all targets supposedly, but it had been too quiet lately. Colonel Moriarty had been keeping a low profile, and rightly so.

His eyes fluttered closed in an attempt to fall asleep, and it worked for a bit until his mobile rang. Mycroft shot right up, noticing it was Anthea calling him. She never called him. He answered it, speaking her name in an uncharacteristically frantic manner. There was no direct reply, but he could hear her struggling, followed by a shatter of glass. She was fighting back whoever was attacking her. Mycroft didn’t wait another moment; he threw on the simplest outfit and was out the door in moments. The last thing he heard before the phone call ended was a gun shot.

Philip Anderson studied the wall of connections and theories he had concocted. It wasn’t dissimilar to the one he created whilst Sherlock was gone. What he had found out so far was that Colonel James Moriarty was a stationmaster up until three years ago when he had a psychotic break. It obviously runs in the family. He’s been taking out anyone who ever betrayed his brother. In Sherlock’s case, it wasn’t betrayal, but the fact that he was still breathing meant that Jim Moriarty died in vain.

If only he could discover where the stationmaster was hiding out, he’d have a lead for Sherlock to follow. He had a theory, but first, Anderson needed to find out the specifics from an expert. Who was that fellow that Sherlock and Molly spoke with for a case a while back? Philip wracked his brain, searching for the answer, and then it hit him. He looked up the number, dialing it into his mobile. “Ah, Mr. Shilcott, I have a couple questions for you.”

When Mycroft arrived at Anthea’s home—a cosy little townhouse—he noted that there were no lights on from the windows he could see. The door had been left ajar, and he crept inside, making sure not to hit any of the creaky floorboards. He had memorised them from the many times he had been over here, needing a reprieve from reality. Just then, he realised that it wasn’t much different than Sherlock using Molly’s flat as a bolthole. And just when he could possibly stumble across her lifeless form, Mycroft finally admitted the truth to himself: he loved her.

Please don’t be dead, he repeated in his head, silently mouthing the words. Little by little, he moved quietly through the house, his hand hovering above the pistol he never used, sitting in its holster that was clipped to his jeans. Soft sobs grew louder as he approached her bedroom door on the second floor, a dim light spilling out into the hall. He pushed it open slowly, and found Anthea, unharmed, crouched beside her bed. Despite the fact she had worked for him for years—almost fifteen now—Anthea had never been caught in the crossfire of a serial killer.

“Mycroft,” she called out in a broken whisper as the elder Holmes knelt down in front of her. “You need to be careful; he’s still in the house.”

“I need to get you out of here,” he insisted. “I didn’t see anyone, but that doesn’t mean he’s not waiting around.” Mycroft attempted to scoop her up in his arms, but all was a blur what with Anthea screaming. A sharp pain ripped through him—well, not quite all the way through—and was that blood? He slumped forward, heavy footfalls running down the stairs and out the door most likely. The last thing he remembered was the warmth of Anthea’s tears splashing onto his skin.

“Oh God…”

“Less than an inch away!”

“…a lot of pain when he wakes up.”

“Don’t wait a moment longer.”

“Mycroft? Please wake up, darling.”

Bright florescent lights blurred then focused into view. Standing by the door was Sherlock in full crime solving attire sans Belstaff, and Molly only in her sleep attire, though his brother had thrown his coat over the pathologist’s shoulders to keep her warm. He felt a smoothness running over the back of his right hand, and turned to see the source of it. Anthea sat beside his bed, both of her hands holding his, her thumbs running across the back of it. Her face was blotched and swollen from crying, tears still running down her cheeks.

“Hey you,” she managed to choke out. “I thought you were lost to us.”

Mycroft finally remembered. “I was shot.”

“You were,” Sherlock’s voice cut through the tension. “The bullet was lodged within you, nearly missing your heart.”

“It was less than an inch away,” Molly added. “You were very lucky.”

Feeling his mobile vibrate, Sherlock answered it despite the name that popped up on the screen. “Anderson, what is it? There’s been—“ He listened closely to him, his face hardening. “I see. Good work, there may be hope for you yet.”

“What?” Molly asked. “What is it?”

Mycroft and Anthea only looked on in curiosity.

“Anderson’s found a lead on Moriarty—he may be hiding out in the old York Road tube station.” The station had been closed for decades—ever since 1932—but that was why it was a fitting hideout for a former stationmaster. “Don’t worry, brother dear, rest assured I will find him.”

Molly cleared her throat. “Don’t you mean ‘we?’” she asked. “I’m not letting you go this alone.”

“Molly, it’s too—“

“Dangerous? Risky? I know, Sherlock. That’s why you can’t go this one alone. You need backup—I know how to fight. You and Mycroft made sure of that,” she told him. “I’m not going to sit around and wait, wondering if you’ll ever make it back.”

Sherlock sighed in defeat. He knew she would just follow after him if they didn’t go together. And then what? They’d arrive separately, and it could put her in more danger than if she accompanied him. “Fine, but we’re stopping back at Baker Street first. You need a change of clothes.”

Before walking out the door, Molly turned back to Anthea. “Remember what Sherlock said…don’t wait a moment longer.” And they were gone, off to slay a dragon, as Mycroft would say.

“What did she mean by that?” Mycroft asked.

Anthea gave him a small smile, wiping at the tears that still stained her face. “I love you, Mycroft Holmes. Don’t you dare scare me like that again.”

A look of awe crossed his face, and though he didn’t respond verbally, he lifted her hand to his lips. It was enough to let her know he felt the same.

#sherlolly #mythea #my fanfiction #the adventure of philip anderson

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